CHAPTER 29
Noeul remained frozen, listening to the engine fade into the distance.
The silence that followed was heavier than any shout.
Slowly, he bowed twice toward Haneul’s grave before shuffling barefoot toward the cemetery entrance. He had no phone. No money. Dizzy and weak, all he could do was find somewhere safe and wait for Ji-Woo.
***
An hour later, Ji-Woo received a location ping from Chung-Hee’s phone.
They found Noeul half-asleep on a bench near the cemetery’s edge.
Ji-Woo stopped. Duri quietly exhaled.
Noeul’s black hair was matted with blood from the wound on his forehead.
Curled into himself against the cold, he rested his head on one shoulder, knees drawn tightly to his chest. Tear tracks marked his cheeks.
The warmth that usually surrounded him was still there but buried beneath quiet despair.
They hurried over. Ji-Woo rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. The small touch made Noeul flinch before slowly relaxing.
Duri opened the first-aid kit they had brought and carefully bandaged the wound while Ji-Woo stayed beside his brother.
“Don’t worry, hyung,” Ji-Woo whispered. “We’re taking you home.”
He wanted to hug him, to promise everything would be all right. Instead, he felt painfully helpless, just as he had when Gong hurt Noeul and no one had stood beside him.
Noeul said nothing, keeping his eyes lowered.
Together, they helped him into Duri’s car. The drive back passed in silence.
Ji-Woo stayed the night with his brother, while Duri prepared to return home.
***
Before leaving, Duri stopped beside the entrance.
“I’ll come tomorrow,” he said, looking only at Noeul. “If you need anything… call me.”
Noeul lowered his eyes and gave a faint nod, though they both knew he wouldn’t.
Duri hesitated, wanting to say more. To promise that nothing like this would ever happen again. But promises felt meaningless against what had already been done.
“Bis bald,” he murmured instead.
Noeul’s lips parted slightly at the familiar words, but no answer came. Duri lingered for another second before turning away.
Only after the apartment door closed behind him did he allow himself to lean against the corridor wall. His hands shook.
He reached for his phone, typed a message, erased it, then started again.
I’m here. Day or night. You don’t have to reply.
He stared at the screen for several seconds before pressing send.
***
Inside the apartment, Noeul’s phone vibrated. He saw Duri’s name appear, his thumb hovering over the screen before he placed the phone face down without opening the message.
Finally, the weight of the day settled over him. Every word. Every touch. Every moment at the cemetery.
He could still feel Chung-Hee’s hands.
Ji-Woo offered to help him shower or sit with him for a while, but Noeul shook his head before collapsing onto the couch.
Ji-Woo headed into the kitchen area. The sound of cupboards opening and closing drifted through the studio. A few minutes later, he returned with a bowl of warm soup and placed it carefully on the coffee table. He lifted a spoonful and stopped halfway to Noeul’s mouth.
“You should eat a little,” he said softly.
Noeul looked at the spoon but didn’t move. Ji-Woo dropped the spoon next to the plate.
“It’ll get cold.”
No answer came. Ji-Woo sat beside him anyway.
For a while, neither of them spoke. When the soup finally cooled untouched, Ji-Woo carried it back to the kitchen. The apartment had never felt so empty.
“How could he do this to me?” The question echoed unanswered.
When Ji-Woo eventually fell asleep beside him, Noeul finally let himself cry. He sat awake in the dim light, staring at the wall, a pillow held tightly against his chest as he tried to keep the sobs silent.
“I can’t believe he did this,” he whispered. The words sounded distant, almost as though someone else had spoken them.
Hours slipped by. He couldn’t bring himself to eat, shower, or even change his clothes. Eventually, exhaustion pulled him into an uneasy sleep on the couch, the pillow still clutched against him.
Morning arrived quietly. Sunlight filtered through the windows, but it did little to lift the heaviness pressing down on him. Every muscle ached. His thoughts felt slow, distant. The idea of seeing Chung-Hee again made his stomach twist.
He drifted through the day between the couch and the bed, barely aware of the television playing in the background. Even the thought of food made him nauseous. Despite Ji-Woo’s and Mr. Choi’s attempts to comfort him, Noeul remained withdrawn.
Mr. Choi gave him space but checked on him several times throughout the day. Sometimes he brought fresh fruit, sometimes coffee, and later, a small lunchbox.
“Noeul?”
Noeul always answered with the same words.
“I’m all right.”
Mr. Choi never challenged him. He simply placed the food nearby, reminded him to eat something, and quietly returned to the kitchen.
By evening, every plate remained untouched.
Whenever Noeul closed his eyes, he found himself back at the cemetery. Back on the cold stone. Back beneath Chung-Hee’s voice.
“I deserved it,” he whispered.
The familiar voice of depression answered before anyone else could. After everything I did to him… he had the right to be angry. Maybe it isn’t time to forgive myself yet. Maybe I really am as terrible as he made me feel.
For hours, Noeul stared at the ceiling, searching for something, anything, that might help him regain a sense of control.
Several times, he reached for his phone to call Duri.
Each time, he stopped himself. Ji-Woo and Mr. Choi were only a few steps away, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk to them either.
As night fell, Noeul finally forced himself to stand.
The bathroom light felt painfully bright. He stood beneath the shower for a long time before turning on the water. When the warm stream finally reached him, he closed his eyes.
He washed the blood from his forehead first. Pink water disappeared into the drain.
Then he reached for the soap. His hand stopped halfway.
For several seconds, he simply stared at it.
Eventually, he began washing himself with slow, awkward movements, relying mostly on his right hand and avoiding his own reflection in the glass.
The water grew colder. He didn’t notice until he started shivering. Only then did he turn the shower off. He dried himself as best he could and wrapped the towel around his waist.
Clean clothes were waiting outside the bathroom. Mr. Choi had left them there without saying anything.
Later, dressed and exhausted, Noeul found a fresh cup of coffee waiting for him. He carried it to the window and sat watching the city lights flicker in the distance.