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# Chapter 175: Words Trapped Behind Walls
Seo-ah couldn’t move in the hospital corridor. Her mother’s final words clung to her ears, refusing to let go. Kang Ri-u had gone to find her mother. Kang Ri-u had been looking for her. And knowing that—or rather, had that knowledge driven him to search even harder?
Seo-ah closed the hospital room door. Very quietly. As if even the sound of closing it could wound someone. The fluorescent lights in the hallway illuminated her face—a light that was neither warm nor cold, but neutral. As if the world neither acknowledged nor rejected her existence.
On the way to the elevator, Seo-ah looked at her hands. Traces of tattoo ink still lingered beneath her fingernails. Sky’s hands. Sky had held her so tightly. A name etched across her chest. Na Seo-ah. That name felt like a lie now.
Someone had created her. She had belonged to that person. And she hadn’t even known it.
Her phone rang. A vibration. Seo-ah pulled it from her pocket. Do-hyun. The third call. Or maybe more. Seo-ah didn’t answer. What could she say? He’d probably know her mother was in the hospital. But he wouldn’t know why her mother was there because of her.
The elevator arrived. The doors opened. Inside were two nurses and an elderly patient. Seo-ah stepped in. As she reached for the button, one of the nurses looked at her. That gaze grazed Seo-ah. As if the woman sensed something was wrong with her. As if Seo-ah didn’t belong in this hospital.
“First floor?”
The nurse asked.
“Yes.”
Seo-ah answered. She couldn’t tell whose voice it was.
The elevator descended. Seo-ah looked at the mirror-like walls. Her reflection stared back. Her mother had said she looked like her father. Seo-ah studied her own face closely. The shape of her eyes. The angle of her jaw. The line of her lips. These features seemed connected to someone else’s face. As if her own face were merely a mirror for someone else.
First floor. The hospital lobby. Seven in the evening. Still crowded with people. Patients, guardians, doctors, nurses. Everyone here for their own reasons. Everyone carrying their own pain. But no one else would be here not knowing who they were.
Seo-ah walked out of the hospital. Night air brushed her face. Different from the night air of Jeju. Jeju’s wind carried salt. Seoul’s wind carried exhaust fumes. But Seo-ah couldn’t tell the difference now.
Her phone rang again. Do-hyun calling back. Seo-ah answered.
“Hello.”
She said.
“Noona! Where are you? Mom suddenly collapsed yesterday. I’m at the hospital right now.”
Do-hyun’s voice trembled. Frightened. For the first time, Seo-ah thought about what her actions had done to him.
“I know. I’m outside the hospital now.”
She said.
“What? Then where are you? Come up to the fifth floor.”
Do-hyun said.
Seo-ah hung up. And stood there. At the hospital entrance. Not yet ready to go in.
She needed to call Sky. But what would she say? That she was Kang Mi-jun’s daughter? That she was Kang Ri-u’s sister? That everything was a lie?
Seo-ah walked. Away from the hospital entrance. She didn’t think about where she was going. Just let her legs carry her. As if her body understood better than her mind.
Thirty minutes later, Seo-ah was at Hangang Park. Eight o’clock at night. The lights of the Han River reflected off the water. Each light like someone’s dream. Like someone’s wish. And those dreams floated on the water’s surface. Floating, but impossible to grasp.
Seo-ah sat on a bench. Alone. Though couples and friends surrounded her, she was alone. Always alone. And now she understood. This was her fate.
Her phone rang. Sky. Seo-ah answered with trembling hands.
“What are you doing? I heard from Do-hyun. Your mom’s in the hospital?”
Sky asked.
“Yeah.”
Seo-ah answered.
“Where are you? I’m coming now.”
Sky said.
“No. I want to be alone.”
Seo-ah said.
“What? What did you say?”
Sky asked.
“I want to be alone.”
Seo-ah repeated.
Silence fell. Sky’s silence—trying to understand. As if she were reading something in Seo-ah’s tone.
“Seo-ah. Are you okay?”
Sky asked.
It was such a difficult question. Was she okay? Her identity had collapsed. She’d learned she wasn’t the daughter she thought she was, but someone else’s daughter. She’d learned she was Kang Mi-jun’s daughter.
“I don’t know.”
Seo-ah said. It was the only truth. She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything. She didn’t know she wasn’t herself.
“Seo-ah, what happened?”
Sky asked.
“I’m Kang Mi-jun’s daughter.”
Seo-ah said. Very calmly. As if discussing the weather.
The silence deepened. Sky processing those words.
“What?”
Sky asked.
“I’m Kang Mi-jun’s daughter, and Kang Ri-u is my older brother.”
Seo-ah repeated.
“How… how is that possible…”
Sky murmured.
“My mother told me.”
Seo-ah said.
“That doesn’t matter. You’re still Na Seo-ah. You’re my friend. That’s all.”
Sky said.
But it was a lie. Seo-ah knew it. Everything would change now. As long as the name Kang Mi-jun was attached to her, she would never be Na Seo-ah again.
“I saw Kang Ri-u.”
Seo-ah said.
“What?”
Sky cried out.
“Last night. At a cafe.”
Seo-ah continued. As if talking about someone else’s story.
“Seo-ah! Are you insane?”
Sky shouted.
“And I…”
Seo-ah said. Then stopped. She didn’t even know what came next. What she’d done. What had happened. Her memory was hazy like smog.
“Seo-ah, I’m coming now. Don’t move. Where are you?”
Sky said.
“Hangang Park.”
Seo-ah answered.
“Which side?”
“Near Hapjeong Station.”
Seo-ah said.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Don’t move.”
Sky said.
The call ended. Seo-ah lowered her phone. She looked at the Han River. The lights still floated on the water. And Seo-ah wondered. Were those lights someone else’s lights? Someone else’s dreams? Or just someone else’s consumption?
Do-hyun called. Seo-ah didn’t answer.
Kang Ri-u had gone to find her mother. Kang Ri-u had been looking for her. Kang Ri-u had been calling her his sister. And she had held that man’s hand. She had grasped his trembling hand. She had done something with him. She couldn’t remember what, but she had done something.
Her mother was in the hospital.
Do-hyun was crying.
Sky was coming.
And she was sitting here.
Nine o’clock at night. Sky arrived. She got out of the taxi and sat beside Seo-ah. Without speaking. Just sitting. As if waiting for Seo-ah to be ready to talk.
“What’s wrong with me?”
Seo-ah asked.
“Nothing.”
Sky answered.
“My father is Kang Mi-jun.”
Seo-ah said.
“Yeah.”
Sky answered.
“My brother is Kang Ri-u.”
Seo-ah said.
“Yeah.”
Sky answered.
“Then what am I?”
Seo-ah asked.
Sky didn’t answer. Instead, she took Seo-ah’s hand. Very gently. As if giving Seo-ah the freedom to pull away at any moment.
“You’re my friend.”
Sky finally said.
“That’s all.”
But Seo-ah knew better. That wasn’t all. From now on, she would always be Kang Mi-jun’s daughter. Always Kang Ri-u’s sister.
And she would never have a voice again.
The night deepened. One by one, the lights of the Han River went out. As if someone were turning off the world’s lights. As if the world were slowly going dark.
Seo-ah looked down at her hands. Her fingers were still trembling. As if they weren’t hers. As if they were betraying her.
Sky’s hand was warm. But soon it would grow cold too. Everything would.
Seo-ah looked at her phone again. Twelve missed calls from Do-hyun. One from the hospital where her mother was. And one unknown number.
It was Kang Ri-u’s number.
Seo-ah raised her finger. She didn’t press the call button. Just stared at it. As if that button were the literal embodiment of a word. As if pressing it would permanently alter something.
Sky squeezed Seo-ah’s hand harder. As if holding her back from pressing that button.
“Seo-ah, don’t call.”
Sky said.
“Okay.”
Seo-ah answered.
But it was already too late. The phone screen flickered. An incoming call notification. Someone was calling Seo-ah.
The caller was Kang Ri-u.
Seo-ah’s hand moved. Beyond her control. As if someone else were moving it.
The call button was pressed.
“Noona?”
Kang Ri-u’s voice came through. But it wasn’t the voice Seo-ah remembered. As if she were hearing someone else’s voice. As if Kang Ri-u were already dead, and she were listening to his ghost.
“Yes?”
Seo-ah barely managed to say.
“Noona, I’m at Seoul Airport right now. I’m leaving for Berlin tomorrow morning. And…”
Kang Ri-u said.
“And?”
Seo-ah asked.
Silence flowed. What was in that silence? Guilt? Relief? Despair? Or something mixing all of it together?
“And I’m not coming back. I’m sorry, noona. I’m sorry to mom. I’m sorry to everyone.”
Kang Ri-u said.
“Why?”
Seo-ah asked. But it wasn’t a question. It was a command. Demanding that Ri-u finish what he’d started.
“Because I’m someone who tried to destroy you. And I…”
Kang Ri-u said.
“I can’t be here.”
The call ended.
Seo-ah set down her phone. Her fingers were no longer trembling. Instead, her whole hand had frozen. As if she were no longer alive.
Sky embraced her. Without words. As if knowing Seo-ah needed no comfort right now.
The night grew deeper. All the lights of the Han River went out. Only darkness remained.
And Seo-ah thought:
There are many ways a flame goes out.
It can be extinguished all at once, or it can burn down slowly, or it can leave only smoke behind.
But every flame eventually dies.
That is the flame’s fate.
And so would she.
END OF CHAPTER 175