이 포스팅은 쿠팡 파트너스 활동의 일환으로, 이에 따른 일정액의 수수료를 제공받습니다.
# Chapter 181: The Mark Left by a Voice
When Saea fell silent, that silence was not mere silence. It was refusal, and simultaneously, acceptance. Her mother’s words—“What do you mean I could hurt you?”—the sentence Saea had left unfinished hung suspended in the hospital room. Like coagulated blood. Like a wound still bleeding.
Her mother’s hand rose slowly. The hand with the IV needle attached. It reached toward Saea. But it didn’t touch. A few centimeters of distance. That distance said everything between them.
“There’s something I can’t tell you.”
Her mother spoke. Her voice grew smaller. Like words being squeezed from her throat.
“Why?”
Saea asked. And immediately regretted it. To ask why meant you had to be ready for the answer, and Saea wasn’t ready.
“Because… some truths are not meant to be understood. They’re meant to be endured.”
Her mother spoke in English. Saea understood the words, but what mattered more was that her mother had abandoned Korean. As if she couldn’t bear its weight. As if her native tongue itself was a wound.
Saea stood abruptly. The chair scraped backward. But it made no sound. As if Saea herself was silencing even the noise. She walked to the window. 11 PM. The night view of Seoul National University Hospital spread below. Gangnam’s lights. All those lights burning.
“Saea.”
Her mother called her name. That name struck the back of Saea’s neck.
“Who is my father?”
Saea asked, watching her own reflection in the glass. Whose face is this? What genes created it? Whose voice lives in this mouth?
“Kang Mi-jun.”
Her mother answered.
The name wasn’t unfamiliar to Saea. That was the worst part. The unfamiliarity it lacked. Where had she heard that name? Where? Like memory scattering through her fingers, Saea searched for the connection.
“The chairman of… JYA Entertainment?”
Saea asked.
“Yes.”
Her mother answered.
Saea’s breathing changed. Shallowed. As if someone were pressing down on her chest. JYA Entertainment. The company she’d signed with. The company she’d sold her music to. The chairman of that company was… her father.
“Why… didn’t anyone tell me?”
Saea asked. Now her voice had shifted. Colder. Sharper. Like steel transforming into diamond.
“Because… to protect you.”
Her mother said.
“Protect me?”
Saea repeated. Her tone close to laughter. But not laughter.
“That man couldn’t protect you. Couldn’t love you. Because of your voice. So I… I kept you away. Far away. In Jeju.”
Her mother spoke.
Saea’s hand touched the window. The glass was cold. Cold, hard, immobile. All those qualities felt right. At least glass didn’t lie. At least glass didn’t hurt her.
“What relationship did my mother have with my father?”
Saea asked.
Silence came. That silence said more than any answer could.
“Kang Mi-jun was… the chairman of the company I worked for. And I was… his secretary.”
Her mother said.
Secretary. The weight of that word. Saea knew it. What a secretary was. What the relationship between secretary and chairman meant. She’d seen it enough in her own work. An inequitable relationship. An imbalance of power. A choice with no choices.
“So… I was born?”
Saea asked.
“Yes.”
Her mother answered.
“And?”
“And… Kang Mi-jun never acknowledged you. Because you were illegitimate. Or more precisely… he was afraid of your very existence. Your voice.”
Saea closed her eyes. If she closed them, would this become a dream? If she closed them, would this become someone else’s story?
“My father… was afraid of my voice?”
Saea asked. That was a question she’d already asked. But now it held different meaning.
“Listen to me carefully. Kang Mi-jun wasn’t afraid of you. He knew your voice could do something. And he felt… it could be a threat to him.”
Her mother said.
“Something could do… exactly what?”
Saea asked.
“I don’t know. Truly. But what I saw was… your songs changed people. Your voice moved their hearts. And that power was… a power you didn’t even know you had.”
Saea opened her eyes. She looked at her mother again. Her mother lying in the hospital bed. Oxygen tubes in her nostrils. IV needles piercing her forearm. Her mother looked at her. And there were tears flowing from her eyes.
“I didn’t abandon you. I… hid you. To protect you. So your voice wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
Her mother said. When those words ended, she closed her eyes. As if she’d used all her energy just to say them.
Saea left the hospital room. Haeul was still standing in the corridor. And when Dohyun saw Saea’s face, he sensed something.
“Noona?”
Dohyun said.
Saea didn’t answer. Instead, she headed for the stairs. Not the elevator. The stairs. Her feet descended, and the rhythm of those feet became her heartbeat. Down and down and continuing down. As if she were falling. As if she were heading toward the bottom.
First floor. The hospital lobby. 11:45 PM. Emergency room signs. People sitting on benches beneath them. They all wore the same expression. The expression of waiting. Of despair. Of hope. All emotions mixed together.
Saea left the hospital. Night air struck her face. Late autumn air. Cold, dry, with the smell of something burning.
“Saea!”
Haeul followed.
“Don’t.”
Saea said.
“What?”
Haeul asked.
“Right now… I want to be alone.”
Saea said.
“No. You can’t be alone right now like this.”
Haeul said.
Saea looked at Haeul. Her face was twisted with worry. And Saea realized something. That Haeul knows her. That Haeul understands she’s in some kind of danger.
“Can I… do something?”
Saea asked.
“Do what?”
Haeul asked.
“With my voice. Can I… hurt someone?”
Saea asked.
Haeul didn’t answer. That silence was the answer.
She took a taxi to Hapjeong-dong. To Saea’s gosiwon. She climbed the stairs, opened the door. Inside was only a cat-patterned mat. Nothing else. Absolutely nothing.
Saea pulled a lighter from her bag. She flicked it. Fire came. Blue flame. Yellow flame. Red flame. She brought it near her finger. Closer. Even closer.
At that exact moment, her phone rang.
It was Kang Liou.
Saea answered.
“Hi.”
Kang Liou said.
“What… what are you doing?”
Saea asked. Her voice was trembling.
“Looking for you. They said you left the hospital. Where are you now?”
Kang Liou asked.
“Gosiwon.”
Saea answered.
“Are you alone?”
“Yeah.”
Silence. In that silence, Saea could hear Kang Liou’s breathing.
“You figured something out. Your mom told you something, didn’t she?”
Kang Liou asked.
“Yeah.”
Saea answered.
“And right now… you’re in a dangerous state?”
Kang Liou asked.
Saea didn’t answer. Instead, she flicked the lighter on and off repeatedly. Off. On. Off. On.
“Saea. You can’t be alone. I’m coming now. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
Kang Liou said.
“Don’t come.”
Saea said.
“What?”
“Don’t come. I don’t want to see anyone right now.”
Saea said.
“Then who do you want?”
Kang Liou asked.
That was a good question. Who do you want? Saea thought. Does she want someone? Or no one? Or does she want herself? Does she want to know who she is?
“No one… I don’t want anyone.”
Saea said.
“I’m coming anyway. Stay there. You don’t need to come out. I’ll go in.”
Kang Liou said.
“How will you get in?”
Saea asked.
“Where’s the key?”
Kang Liou asked.
Saea looked at the bookshelf in the living room. The key was there. When Kang Liou had first visited Saea, she’d left it there. Just in case.
“On the bookshelf in the living room.”
Saea said.
“Okay. Then wait.”
Kang Liou said.
The call ended.
Saea lit the lighter again. Fire came. She brought it near her finger. Closer. The smell of burning skin. No, it was just a smell. Nothing actually burning. Not yet.
The cat mat made a sound. Like it was speaking to Saea. “Don’t. Not yet.”
Saea turned off the lighter.
And she waited.
Kang Liou arrived in exactly twenty-five minutes. Saea heard the sounds. Footsteps climbing stairs. Footsteps crossing the corridor. The door opening. And Kang Liou entered.
Her hands were trembling.
“Are you okay?”
Kang Liou asked. But it wasn’t really a question. It was a verification. A check that Saea was still alive.
Saea looked at Kang Liou. And for the first time, in that moment, she understood something. How much Kang Liou was afraid of her. How much Kang Liou feared that she would disappear. And that fear… wasn’t love.
“Can I do something?”
Saea asked.
“Do what?”
Kang Liou asked.
“With my voice. Can I hurt someone?”
Kang Liou didn’t answer. Instead, he approached Saea. And he held her. His arms were strong. And trembling.
“You… can do that.”
Kang Liou finally said.
“How?”
Saea asked. In his embrace.
“…I don’t know. But I know what that power is.”
Kang Liou stroked her head.
“What is it?”
Saea asked.
“Love. That’s the power that can do something. Your voice… makes people love. And that love… can sometimes become the most dangerous weapon.”
Saea was silent. Whether that was true or false didn’t matter. What mattered in that moment was something else. What mattered was that someone was holding her. Someone refusing to let her go. Someone believing in her.
In that moment, Saea’s body stilled.
The external fire went out.
But it was still burning.
From within.
[END OF CHAPTER 181]