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# Chapter 47: The Weight of a Disconnected Call
When Saea didn’t answer the phone, Kang Riou already knew.
Saea was lying in the convenience store break room around 6:30 in the morning. Eyes closed, but not asleep. Sleep itself seemed impossible now. Her body had become like a machine—either running or stopped, with no concept of rest in between. Even after her phone stopped vibrating, she remained there for a long time. Six missed calls were logged on the screen. All from the same number.
Caller: Kang Riou.
The first came at exactly 6:00 AM. The second at 6:03. Then 6:07. The intervals were getting shorter. The last call came at 6:28. Now it was 6:41. No more calls. As if Riou had given up too.
Saea opened her eyes. Stared at the ceiling. The break room’s ceiling was a dingy white—the kind of grime that accumulated from unknown sources. Years of dust, moisture, and something’s smell had seeped into it. Looking at that ceiling made time feel suspended. Like she’d be working here forever. Like she was already dead.
Her phone rang again.
This time it wasn’t a call. A text from Kang Riou.
“Will you pick up?”
The moment she read those six characters, Saea understood how weak she was. Six letters that shattered every decision she’d made. Like a single stone breaking an entire sheet of ice on water.
She sat up. Turned on the break room light. The fluorescent tube flickered, then glowed. The room was really small. About 2 by 3 meters. An old refrigerator, microwave, two chairs. This was her only refuge. The only private space available during work shifts. Fifteen minutes of rest per hour.
Saea picked up her phone and called Riou back.
Before the first ring even finished, he answered. As if he’d been waiting for nothing else.
“Hi.”
Riou’s voice was very quiet. The exhaustion of early morning was crushing it. Saea answered with silence. She thought she should say something, but didn’t know what. Nothing seemed to fit.
“I’m sorry.”
Riou spoke first. It wasn’t clear what he was apologizing for. For what he’d said at the convenience store? Or for his own existence?
“For what?”
Saea asked. Her voice was also small. In the fluorescent light of the early morning break room, both their voices sounded almost identical. Like the same person talking to themselves.
“Yesterday. The things I said.”
Riou continued. Then a brief silence. “And the things I didn’t say.”
Saea felt the weight of those words. The unspoken words were heavier. They meant there was more left unsaid than said. Riou’s sentences always remained incomplete. As if something he didn’t understand kept cutting them off.
“What are you doing right now?”
Riou asked.
“I was lying in the break room. Just got up.”
Saea answered.
“Go home. After your shift.”
Riou said. It sounded more like an order than a suggestion.
“Why?”
Saea asked. She wanted to know why he was saying this. Whether it came from wanting to protect her or from a need to control her.
“I’m coming to get you. At noon.”
Riou said. Then silence again. “But before that, I need to tell you something. What I couldn’t say yesterday.”
“What?”
Saea asked. She felt like she already knew. But she needed to hear it spoken aloud. Truth in silence isn’t real. Only spoken truth becomes reality.
“It wasn’t a lie that I tried to save you.”
Riou said. “But that wasn’t everything either. The truth is, I was trying to save myself. Through you. And that was the best I could do. Really. I saw everything I’d failed at in Berlin reflected in you. And this time, I didn’t want to fail.”
Saea heard it. And she recognized it as a confession. The best confession Riou could give. Not perfect truth, but imperfect truth. Truth that was hard even for him to accept.
“Even so?”
Saea asked. Those two words contained everything. Even so, you tried to possess me? Even so, you tried to manipulate me? Even so, you tried to make me a tool for your atonement?
“Even so, I wanted you.”
Riou answered. It wasn’t an answer but another confession. “I don’t know if that’s right or wrong. But it’s true. I wanted you. Your music. Your voice. And you yourself. Everything.”
Saea said nothing. The fluorescent light hummed. She’d grown accustomed to that sound. Like her own heartbeat now.
“Then what am I to you?”
Saea asked. “Your object of atonement? Your instrument of salvation? Or just… your possession?”
Riou took a long time answering. That silence stretched. Saea heard his breathing through the phone. Rapid breathing. Like he was running.
“You’re someone I can’t let go of now.”
Riou said. It was a confession of love without using the word love. Or not love—necessity. “And I know that. That’s why I’m terrified. Of losing you. Of losing someone again.”
“But you already let me go.”
Saea said. “Last night. At the convenience store. When the darkness came.”
Riou didn’t answer. Saea understood. That he knew what he’d done. That he understood what it meant to walk away into the darkness.
“Let’s meet at noon.”
Riou said. It wasn’t a question. “At your place.”
“Are you asking me to quit the convenience store?”
Saea asked.
“No. Just at noon.”
Riou said. “That’s all.”
And the call ended.
Saea came out of the break room. The guy manning the register was a college student named Park Jun. He looked at her.
“Are you okay? Your face looks kind of—”
Park Jun tried to say, but Saea didn’t answer. Instead, she put on her apron. Automatically. A motion her body remembered.
7:00 AM. The convenience store was entering the morning rush. Office workers started appearing. For coffee. For a quick breakfast. Or just stopping by on the way somewhere. Saea watched them. In their faces, she saw everything Riou had mentioned yesterday. The things they’d trampled climbing over. The things they’d lost. And the things they still couldn’t let go of.
A woman came in. Early thirties, maybe. Probably an office worker—she was wearing a suit. But the suit was too large. Like she was wearing someone else’s clothes. The woman came to the register and ordered an Americano.
“Hot?”
Saea asked. Like a machine.
“Oh, yes. Hot.”
The woman answered. While Saea prepared the coffee, the woman looked at the stack of magazines beside the register. Several music magazines were there. Some that the convenience store didn’t even sell. Ones Saea had collected separately.
“Oh, you like music?”
The woman asked.
Saea didn’t answer. She was pouring the coffee. Hot water fell onto the powder. The sound was like a small explosion.
“I used to like music too…”
The woman said. Her voice grew thin. “But now I don’t know what I like anymore. I forgot for so long.”
Saea looked at that woman. Looked into her eyes. What was there. Surrender. And something that refused to surrender. Like what Riou had described yesterday. People slowly dying while smiling perfectly.
“Music stays with you even if you forget it.”
Saea said. She didn’t know why she was saying this. “You can always start again.”
The woman looked at Saea as if she were something mysterious.
“Then what about you?”
The woman asked.
Saea handed her the coffee. As her answer.
“That’s 5,000 won.”
The woman paid and left. Saea watched her back. The way she walked in her oversized suit looked like an actress leaving the theater stage.
Saea leaned against the register. The way Riou had leaned against it.
11:30 AM. Saea left the convenience store. She hadn’t finished her shift. There were still thirty minutes until Park Jun’s replacement time. But she left anyway. Because noon was approaching. And noon was a time that needed to be waited for.
The alleyway of Hapjeong-dong was filled with morning sunlight. Warm sunlight. Spring was coming. Saea felt it. The warmth in the air. That sensation when it penetrated her body. But she couldn’t tell where that warmth came from. From the sun? Or from inside herself?
The path to her semi-basement gosiwon room was very short. Eight minutes on foot from the convenience store. Walking that path, Saea thought about how repetitively she lived in this neighborhood. Convenience store to gosiwon. Gosiwon to convenience store. Sometimes to a club in Hongdae. Then back to the convenience store. That was her life.
It was time for Haneul to be at the tattoo shop. Saea hadn’t contacted her. Since last night, she hadn’t wanted to see anyone. Except Kang Riou.
When she arrived at the gosiwon, she entered her room. The room was still tiny. A bed, a desk, and linoleum. That was everything. Saea lay down on the bed. And looked at the ceiling. Not a fluorescent light ceiling. A ceiling of aged wallpaper and moisture seeping through it. This place also looked like someone’s tomb.
She checked her phone. 11:47 AM. Thirteen minutes until noon.
She didn’t know how to endure those thirteen minutes. Thirteen minutes was short. But infinite things could happen during those thirteen minutes. Riou might not come. He might cancel. He might call and say he couldn’t make it. What would happen to her then? Would she keep lying in this room? Staring at the mold on the ceiling, realizing how pathetic her life was?
No. He would definitely come. Riou seemed like someone who kept his promises. At least about things concerning her.
And exactly at noon, Saea’s phone rang.
Caller: Kang Riou.
Saea answered.
“I’m downstairs.”
Riou’s voice came through. It was almost inaudible. Like a whisper.
Saea sat up. She looked out the window. A black car was parked in the alley. An expensive car. Riou was standing beside it.
Saea went out without putting on shoes. Barefoot. Her toes touched the cold concrete. It proved this was real. Everything was real, not a dream.
Riou saw her. There was something in his gaze. She couldn’t define what. Love? Desire? Or desperation?
“Get in.”
Riou said.
Saea got in the car.
The car door closed. And the car began to move.
Saea looked ahead. Riou was driving. His hands gripped the steering wheel. Those hands that had been in his pockets last night. Those trembling hands.
Now those hands weren’t trembling.
Instead, Saea was trembling.