이 포스팅은 쿠팡 파트너스 활동의 일환으로, 이에 따른 일정액의 수수료를 제공받습니다.
# Chapter 48: The Noon Crossroads
Seo-ah saw Kang Ri-woo at exactly noon. She only knew it was noon later. In that moment, time felt suspended.
A convenience store parking lot. The gray asphalt beside the Han River near Hapjeong Station. The sunlight was falling almost vertically because of the hour. Seo-ah’s shadow existed only beneath her feet—a time of day where escape from oneself was impossible. It was in such a moment that Kang Ri-woo appeared.
A black Genesis. The car door opened, and he stepped out. Unlike Seo-ah, who had been working since 9 AM, Kang Ri-woo looked immaculate. A black cashmere coat. A white shirt beneath. Yet his face was not immaculate. The dark circles under his eyes had deepened. The marks of a sleepless night. When Seo-ah saw this, she realized how much she affected this man. And how dangerous that was.
“Hey.”
Kang Ri-woo spoke. His voice sounded different than it had through the phone. Closer. More real. More dangerous. Seo-ah didn’t answer. Instead, she looked at her own hands. The hands of someone after a nine-hour convenience store shift. Her fingers were slightly swollen from constant movement at the register.
“I brought a towel.”
Kang Ri-woo said. He was looking at her hands as if they were his responsibility. He pulled a towel from his coat pocket. White. Expensive. He took her hand and began to dry it.
Seo-ah felt her hand in his. Warm. He wiped each of her fingers clean one by one, as if washing a child. As if those fingers were something precious. She was overwhelmed by the sensation. Had anyone ever treated her like this? Had anyone ever made her feel as if each finger mattered?
“I booked plane tickets.”
Kang Ri-woo said, continuing to dry her hand. “Seoul to Jeju. Departure at 8:40 AM tomorrow. You and me.”
Seo-ah heard his words but didn’t understand what they meant. Jeju. That was her past. Her mother, who had been a haenyeo. The time before her father died. And the sea where she had sung as a child.
“Why?”
Seo-ah asked. Her voice was weak.
“I have something to show you.”
Kang Ri-woo answered. “And there are things I need to tell you. Things I couldn’t say yesterday.”
Kang Ri-woo lowered her hand and set down the towel. He looked at her face. In the noon sunlight, his eyes were so serious. As if this were the most important moment of his life.
“What are you thinking right now?”
Kang Ri-woo asked.
“…Kang Min-jun.”
Seo-ah said. It wasn’t an answer. It was fear. Kang Ri-woo’s father. Chairman of JYA. The man who had signed her contract. “Did you tell your father where I’m going?”
“Not yet.”
Kang Ri-woo answered. Then there was silence. “He doesn’t know right now. But he will. Probably this evening. And when he does, irreversible things will happen.”
“What things?”
Seo-ah asked. She already sensed it. But she needed to hear it.
“I’m leaving the company.”
Kang Ri-woo said, as if giving a weather report. As if abandoning his life meant nothing. “I’m leaving JYA. I’ll tell my father today. And you have to leave too. You’ll have to break your contract. It might create legal problems. There might be settlement fees. But that’s the only way to truly free you. The only way to really save you.”
Seo-ah looked at Kang Ri-woo. His face. His seriousness. And what lay beneath it. Fear. Desperation. And some kind of guilt.
“Why are you doing this?”
Seo-ah asked. “Why do you keep giving me everything? What are you? What have I done to deserve this?”
“You’re…”
Kang Ri-woo began to speak. Then stopped. His mouth moved to form words, then froze. As if words themselves were dangerous weapons. “You’re like a friend I couldn’t save in Berlin. You’re like everyone I stepped on to climb up in Seoul. And you’re the only last chance I have to save someone. That’s why I can’t give you up. Even if I wanted to. Even if it’s the right thing. I can’t give you up.”
Seo-ah heard those words. And she knew how dangerous they were. Words that made her a object of salvation. Words that made her Kang Ri-woo’s means of atonement. Yet she couldn’t reject them. Because she wanted to believe them. She wanted to believe that someone truly wanted to save her.
“What about Do-hyun?”
Seo-ah asked. Her younger brother. Still a sophomore in high school. Her mother was still lying ill in Jeju.
“I’ll bring him.”
Kang Ri-woo answered. “When we go down to Jeju, I’ll bring Do-hyun with us. We can handle his school somehow. It’ll just be temporary.”
“What are you doing?”
Seo-ah asked. Then, wondering if it sounded like blame, she spoke again. “Why do you keep entering my life? What have I done to deserve this much?”
Kang Ri-woo didn’t answer. Instead, he took out his phone and showed it to her. There was a photograph on the screen. A man’s face. When Seo-ah saw it, she found a resemblance to Kang Ri-woo. The same eyes. The same line of the mouth. But this man’s face lacked Kang Ri-woo’s desperation.
“Who is this?”
Seo-ah asked.
“A friend I met in Berlin. His name was Marcus. He was a pianist.”
Kang Ri-woo said. Past tense. Was. “He was a musical genius. Really. Much better than me. But I stepped on him to climb up. I found better teachers with my father’s support. I bought better pieces to perform. And Marcus fell further behind. And one day, that friend jumped into the Elbe River in Berlin.”
Seo-ah heard those words and fell silent. There was nothing to say.
“So I…”
Kang Ri-woo continued. “When I saw you, I thought for the first time. Am I creating another Marcus? Am I stepping on another genius as I climb? That’s why I decided to stop. To defy my father. To give up myself. To really save you. It’s the only way I can atone.”
Kang Ri-woo’s hand found Seo-ah’s again. This time, without the towel, just touching. Warm. Real. Seo-ah felt the weight of that hand.
“So we have to go to Jeju?”
Seo-ah asked.
“Yeah. We have to go to Jeju. I’ll explain everything there. Who I am. Why I became like this. And after you hear it, you can leave me. No one will stop you. I promise.”
Seo-ah looked at Kang Ri-woo. In the noon sunlight. His serious face. His warm hand. And beneath it, decades of guilt and desperation.
“What time tomorrow morning?”
Seo-ah asked.
“8:40 AM departure. Before that, I’ll go to Do-hyun’s place and pick him up. You pack your bags. About a week should be enough. You need to see your mom.”
Seo-ah nodded. And she knew this was a decision that would change her life. Breaking her contract with Kang Min-jun. Legal problems. Settlement fees. Everything. Yet she was nodding anyway.
“But one thing.”
Seo-ah said. She looked at Kang Ri-woo. “When we go to Jeju, you’ll tell me everything, right? Without hiding anything?”
“I’ll tell you everything.”
Kang Ri-woo answered.
“Promise?”
Seo-ah asked.
“Promise.”
Kang Ri-woo said. And his finger intertwined with hers. A gesture of promise. The kind children make.
Around 3 PM, the convenience store manager asked Seo-ah.
“You can’t work today?”
Seo-ah nodded. “Not tomorrow either. Or the day after. I think I need about a week off.”
The manager looked puzzled. Seo-ah was someone who hadn’t missed a single day in the past two years. Not even when she had a cold. Not when she had a fever. Not even when her fingers were injured.
“Is there a problem at home?”
The manager asked.
“…Yes. There’s something I need to take care of.”
Seo-ah lied. But it was half-true. She had to deal with the fact that her life couldn’t go on like this. She had to acknowledge that something needed to change.
At 7 PM, Kang Ri-woo met with Kang Min-jun.
In the chairman’s office. The 88th floor. A height where all of Seoul’s lights spread below like a carpet. Kang Min-jun was looking out the window. His back. The hand that had signed Seo-ah’s contract hung loosely at his side.
“I heard.”
Kang Min-jun said before Kang Ri-woo could speak. “That you’re planning to leave JYA.”
Kang Ri-woo didn’t answer. His silence was his answer.
“And that you’re planning to take that new contract holder with you. That woman, Na Seo-ah.”
Kang Ri-woo’s face changed. His father knew Seo-ah’s name. That wasn’t mere coincidence.
“Father, that woman is…”
Kang Ri-woo began to speak.
“I found her. To give to you.”
Kang Min-jun said. And he slowly turned around. There was a smile on his face. A cold smile. “You’ve always wanted impossible things. So I’ve always brought them to you. And you’ve always thrown them away. Even in Berlin. And now here. So I tried again. To find something that could truly satisfy you.”
“What are you talking about?”
Kang Ri-woo asked. But he already knew. Something big. Something terrible.
“Do you think that woman resembles your friend? No. That woman isn’t your friend. She’s your friend’s younger sister. Marcus’s younger sister. Before your friend jumped into the river, he sent money to Korea. And with that money, that woman’s father came to Korea and met a woman. And that’s where she came from. That woman. None of this is coincidence, Ri-woo. I made it. To bring you back to life. To give you something you truly want.”
Kang Ri-woo moved toward his father. His hand clenched into a fist.
“That’s right. Hit me. That seems like your truth.”
Kang Min-jun said, still smiling. “But if you take that woman with you, she’ll find out too. What she is. What her father was. What her brother was. And that’s not for you. It’s for her. To make you give up.”
Kang Ri-woo’s fist trembled. And lowered. He didn’t hit. Instead, he left the chairman’s office.
At 11 PM, Seo-ah’s phone rang.
It was a call. From Kang Ri-woo. Seo-ah answered.
“…”
There was no voice. Only breathing.
“What? What is it?”
Seo-ah asked.
“We can’t go to Jeju.”
Kang Ri-woo said.
“Why?”
Seo-ah asked. But she already knew. That something big and terrible existed.
“There’s a reason I can’t tell you. If I tell you, everything will end. So I want to ask you something. Can you trust me? Without knowing anything?”
Seo-ah didn’t answer. She already knew what she would choose. And how dangerous it was.
“Can you trust me?”
Kang Ri-woo asked again.
“…Yes.”
Seo-ah answered.
And then everything began.
# The Moment of Choice
Through the chairman’s office window, Seoul’s night view spread out. Kang Min-jun stood there in silence, looking at that landscape. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the desk. Tap tap tap. The sound was regular, like the ticking of a clock. 10:45 PM. Fifteen minutes until Kang Ri-woo arrived.
The door opened.
Kang Ri-woo entered. His face was pale, the shadows under his eyes deep. He looked like someone who hadn’t slept in days. Kang Min-jun read his son’s condition at a glance. Exhaustion. Confusion. Desperation. Perfect.
“Sit.”
Kang Min-jun said. His voice was soft. Like a father comforting his son. But Kang Ri-woo knew how dangerous that softness was. His father’s gentleness always had a blade beneath it.
Kang Ri-woo didn’t sit. He looked out the window. Seoul’s lights looked like thousands of stars. Could one of them be Seo-ah’s home? What was she doing right now? Sleeping? Or awake, thinking of him?
“Did you see Seo-ah?”
Kang Min-jun’s question broke the silence.
“…Yes.”
Kang Ri-woo answered. His voice was low. As if he didn’t want his words to be heard.
“Was it a good time?”
“Father, what do you want?”
Kang Ri-woo turned around. He looked into his father’s eyes. Kang Min-jun’s black pupils reflected light and blinked.
Kang Min-jun slowly stood. He removed his hands from the desk and walked toward the window. He looked down from this height. From this height, people looked like ants. All focused on their small lives. Not knowing someone was watching from above.
“What do I want?”
Kang Min-jun repeated. And laughter came out. Low, deep laughter.
“I found that woman. To give to you.”
Kang Min-jun began to speak. His voice was soft, like a father reading a fairy tale. But this fairy tale was a terrible one.
Kang Ri-woo’s heart jumped. Something was wrong. He could feel it. In this silence, in this darkness, in the way his father looked at him—something was terribly, fundamentally wrong.
“You’ve always wanted impossible things.”
Kang Min-jun continued. He slowly turned around. There was a smile on his face. A cold smile. A glacial smile.
“I found that woman. To give to you.”
No. Kang Ri-woo thought. This is something different. It’s not that his father did something for him. It’s that his father planned something. And now Kang Ri-woo was beginning to sense how vast it was, how deep, how dark.
“So I’ve brought them to you. And you’ve always thrown them away.”
Kang Min-jun’s voice didn’t grow louder or quieter. It was flat, as if he were reading a weather report to someone. But beneath that flatness lay decades of anger.
“Even in Berlin. And now here.”
Berlin.
Kang Ri-woo’s body went rigid. His father knew about Berlin? His father knew about his past? Everything that happened there?
“So I tried again. To find something that could truly satisfy you.”
Kang Min-jun widened his smile.
Kang Ri-woo’s lips trembled. He wanted to ask something, but the words caught in his throat. As if he’d swallowed poison.
“What are you saying?”
Kang Ri-woo finally asked. His voice was low and trembling.
“What are you saying?”
But he already knew. Something big. Something terrible.
Kang Min-jun sat back at his desk. He folded his fingers beneath his chin. Like a mathematician solving a problem.
“Do you think that woman resembles your friend?”
“What…?”
“No. That woman isn’t your friend. She’s your friend’s younger sister.”
Time stopped.
Kang Ri-woo heard those words, but he couldn’t understand what they meant. As if he’d heard a foreign language. The syllables registered, but their meaning slipped away.
“Marcus’s younger sister. Before your friend jumped into the river, he sent money to Korea.”
Kang Ri-woo’s fingers gripped his collar until they turned white.
Marcus. That name tore through Kang Ri-woo’s chest. On that street in Berlin. That night. That moment.
“And with that money, that woman’s father came to Korea and met a woman. And that’s where she came from. That woman.”
Kang Min-jun stood. Now he moved closer to his son. Like a hunter circling around prey.
“None of this is coincidence, Ri-woo. I made it.”
Kang Ri-woo’s breathing stopped.
“To bring you back to life. To give you something you truly want.”
Kang Min-jun’s hand touched his son’s shoulder. That hand was warm, but Kang Ri-woo felt it like fire.
Kang Ri-woo moved. Toward his father. No—it wasn’t movement. It was losing himself.
His hand clenched into a fist. The bones in his fingers crackled. Like a branch breaking.
“That’s right. Hit me. That seems like your truth.”
Kang Min-jun said, still smiling. His face seemed to be savoring his son’s rage.
“But if you take that woman with you, she’ll find out too. What she is. What her father was. What her brother was.”
Kang Ri-woo’s fist trembled. Seo-ah. She would learn. Who her father was. Why her brother died. And that Kang Ri-woo was part of that death.
“And that’s not for you. It’s for her. To make you give up.”
Kang Min-jun’s voice was now almost a whisper.
Kang Ri-woo’s fist trembled. Like the earth before an earthquake.
And it lowered.
But he didn’t hit.
Kang Ri-woo left the chairman’s office. He didn’t slam the door. He left quietly, like a ghost.
Behind him, Kang Min-jun continued to smile.
11 PM.
Seo-ah’s phone rang.
A vibration. Light on the screen. And the name above it.
Kang Ri-woo.
Seo-ah woke in the dark room. She looked at the clock beside the bed. 11:07 PM. Who would call at this hour? And why Kang Ri-woo specifically?
She answered.
“……”
There was no voice from Kang Ri-woo.
Only breathing. Ragged breathing. Like someone who had just run.
Seo-ah waited. She knew that sometimes silence says more than words.
“What? What is it?”
Seo-ah asked. Her voice was gentle. Like a mother soothing a child.
“We can’t go to Jeju.”
Kang Ri-woo finally said.
Seo-ah’s heart sank. Can’t go to Jeju? That trip they had planned? That escape? That new beginning?
“Why?”
Seo-ah asked.
But she already knew. That something big, something terrible, existed. Like seeing a shadow move in the darkness.
“There’s a reason I can’t tell you.”
Kang Ri-woo’s voice deepened.
“If I tell you, everything will end. That’s why I want to ask you something.”
Seo-ah knew his next words. But she also knew that hearing them would fundamentally change something.
“Can you trust me? Without knowing anything?”
Silence.
Seo-ah looked at her hands. They seemed light. As if they no longer belonged to her.
She already knew what she would choose. And how dangerous it was.
“Can you trust me?”
Kang Ri-woo asked again. His voice was even weaker now.
Seo-ah took a deep breath. It felt like the last breath before entering water.
“…Yes.”
Seo-ah answered.
And the call ended.
Seo-ah set down her phone. The light from the screen faded. Darkness remained.
But it was a different darkness than before. This darkness held a choice. And that choice was pulling her somewhere.
Seo-ah looked out the window. Seoul at night spread before her. The city still shone. But that light no longer looked like hope. It looked like a trap. A beautiful trap.
And she was already inside it.
She lay in bed. She looked at the ceiling. There was nothing there. Only darkness.
Time passed. Minute by minute. Hour by hour.
And during that time, a message from Kang Ri-woo arrived.
“See you at the airport tomorrow.”
Seo-ah read the message. And deleted it. But those words were etched on her heart.
The airport.
A place where you depart. A place where new beginnings happen. But also a place where things end.
Seo-ah got out of bed. She opened the closet. She took out a bag.
And she began to pack.
One piece of clothing. Another. Socks. Underwear. Detergent. Toothpaste.
Her hands moved automatically. As if someone else were moving them.
And everything began.
Kang Ri-woo’s choice. Seo-ah’s trust. And everything that trust would create.
The true beginning of what Kang Min-jun had planned.
The night deepened. And Seoul’s lights continued to sparkle. But beneath those lights, in the dark places, events were moving.
Seo-ah’s hands closed the bag. The sound of a zipper. Like the sound of fate’s door closing.
And morning came.
A new day. And a new tragedy.