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# Chapter 161: Before the Flame Dies
The streetlights of the night followed Seo-ah. After leaving the convenience store, her shadow fell across the sidewalk—elongated, bent, nearly insubstantial. The paper cup of hot chocolate grew cold in her hands. She was walking toward the Han River, though she couldn’t say why. Her legs had simply chosen that direction. As if her body knew something her mind refused to accept.
Words from the hospital echoed behind her. Her mother’s voice. Do-hyeon’s voice. And her own voice—“I don’t know.” That single sentence explained everything. She didn’t know what she was doing. Why she kept meeting Kang Ri-u. Why she kept pushing herself into the fire. Why she kept trying to silence her own voice.
Your father is inside you.
Those words flowed through Seo-ah’s bones like poison. As if something lived within her. Something she couldn’t control. Something that moved her hands, moved her legs, made her open her mouth.
Seo-ah took out her phone. 11:42 PM. One message from Kang Ri-u from hours ago.
“Can we meet tomorrow?”
That sentence. It wasn’t a question. It was a summons. And Seo-ah was already answering it. Her feet pointing toward the Han River proved it.
Seo-ah turned the phone screen on and off, on and off. Bright, then dark. Bright, then dark. As if her existence flickered like this. As if she herself were some kind of flame.
She responded to Kang Ri-u without words. Just sent her location. “I’m here now.” That was enough. They had become the kind of people who understood each other without language. Whether that was dangerous or necessary didn’t matter.
When she arrived at the entrance to Han River Park, it was 11:57 PM. The park was nearly empty. A few people walked in the evening air, but they were all distant. Seo-ah sat on a bench. Lights reflected off the water. Seoul at night. It was beautiful. And that beauty terrified her. Because beautiful things were always dangerous.
She waited ten minutes. Or not waited—simply existed. Sitting on the bench, watching the river, feeling her own presence fade. As if she were becoming part of this landscape. As if she were dissolving into the Han River.
Kang Ri-u’s black car appeared. It always appeared. As if it materialized the moment Seo-ah thought of it. As if his car answered her summons.
Seo-ah didn’t stand. She waited for him to get out and approach. His footsteps. They were always quiet. As if the night itself wrapped around his feet.
“You came.”
Kang Ri-u said it. Not a greeting, but a confirmation. Confirming she was here. Confirming he could still find her.
Seo-ah looked at him. In the nightlight, his face appeared even paler. His hands were trembling. No—the trembling had intensified. As if his body rejected something. As if he couldn’t accept himself.
“Are you okay?”
Seo-ah asked. It was a dangerous question. Because it revealed concern. And concern was exactly what Kang Ri-u wanted.
Kang Ri-u sat on the bench. Beside Seo-ah. Only a small distance between them. Close enough to touch. But they didn’t hold hands. Instead, they watched the river.
“Your mother?”
Kang Ri-u asked. That was strange too. It was the first time he’d asked about her family. As if he were trying to make her family his own. As if he wanted to become part of that family.
“She’s not well.”
Seo-ah said.
“Not just unwell. Very unwell.”
Kang Ri-u looked at her. His gaze was heavy. As if it had physical weight.
“And you?”
he asked.
“How are you?”
Seo-ah didn’t answer. The answer to that question was something they both already knew.
The light on the water wavered. As if someone had thrown a stone. The ripples broke the reflected light. Seo-ah watched it and thought: I’m breaking like this too. Like light on water. Like I’m being hit by someone’s stone and shattering.
“What did Do-hyeon say?”
Kang Ri-u asked again.
“What are you doing?”
Seo-ah asked reflexively.
“How did you know?”
Kang Ri-u’s mouth moved slightly. Whether it was a smile or an expression of pain was unclear.
“You always have that look when you come out of the hospital. Like someone hurt you deeply. Like someone wounded you to your core.”
“That’s something you can’t know.”
Seo-ah said. But there was no conviction in her voice.
“Is there anything I can’t know?”
Kang Ri-u asked. It wasn’t arrogance. It was sincerity. As if he truly believed he knew everything about her. As if he could see through everything beneath her skin.
Seo-ah stood up from the bench. She already knew where this conversation would lead. Kang Ri-u would take her hand. His voice would try to wrap around her. She would resist. But eventually, she would surrender.
“My mother talked about my father.”
Seo-ah said abruptly. With such urgency, as if she would shatter completely if she didn’t speak.
Kang Ri-u’s body went rigid. It was a noticeable reaction. As if that name itself affected him.
“Your father?”
Kang Ri-u said slowly.
“What father?”
“My father.”
Seo-ah said.
“She said my father tried to erase me. My voice. My existence.”
Kang Ri-u looked at her again. His gaze seemed different now. As if it were acknowledging something. As if it were confirming some truth.
“Do you know what you’re doing right now?”
Kang Ri-u asked. His voice was very quiet. Almost a whisper.
“What?”
Seo-ah asked.
“Do you know what you’re doing right now?”
Kang Ri-u repeated.
“What are you getting from me? What do you think I’ll give you?”
Seo-ah didn’t answer. Because that question already contained its answer.
“You’re looking for your father in me.”
Kang Ri-u continued.
“You want me to erase you. You want me to kill your voice. You want me to complete you.”
“That’s not…”
Seo-ah tried to speak.
“What will you give me?”
Kang Ri-u cut her off, asking.
“You know what I want, don’t you?”
Faced with that question, Seo-ah fell silent. Because it too already held its answer. What Kang Ri-u wanted was all of her. Her body. Her soul. Her existence. And to possess it completely, she had to crumble further. Become weaker. Hate her father enough.
Kang Ri-u took her hand. His hands were still trembling. But it wasn’t weakness. It was a different kind of trembling. As if something was failing to control itself. As if he was failing to suppress his own desire.
“What can you give me?”
Kang Ri-u asked again.
Seo-ah looked at him. In the nightlight, his face was very blurred. As if suspended between existence and non-existence. As if he too were no longer part of this world.
“I…”
Seo-ah began to speak. But there was nothing after that.
“You can give me anything.”
Kang Ri-u said.
“You can give me everything I want.”
Seo-ah’s hand slipped from his grip. Slowly. As if against her will. As if someone else was moving her hand.
“I have to go.”
Seo-ah said.
Kang Ri-u stood quickly. With desperate urgency, as if he couldn’t let her go.
“Where?”
he asked.
“Home.”
Seo-ah said.
“No, the hospital. To my mother.”
Kang Ri-u grabbed her arm. Not forcefully. But with clear intent. Don’t let go of me. Don’t leave me.
“What will you give me?”
Kang Ri-u repeated. The question had become a threat now.
“You know what I want. You know what I’m waiting for.”
Seo-ah looked into Kang Ri-u’s eyes. Something was breaking inside them. As if some restraint was coming loose. As if Kang Ri-u himself was losing control.
“I gave you everything.”
Kang Ri-u said.
“I gave you all of myself. What will you give me?”
Seo-ah’s body stiffened. She thought of how to escape this situation. If Do-hyeon were here. If Hae-neul were here. If her mother were here. But there was only herself and Kang Ri-u. The night and the river. And something trying to consume her.
“You know what I’m waiting for.”
Kang Ri-u cupped her face in both hands. His hands were trembling. But it was no longer weakness. It was madness.
Seo-ah’s voice came out. Very small.
“Let me go.”
But it wasn’t a command. It was almost a whisper. Almost a prayer. And Kang Ri-u didn’t listen to prayers. He only heard what he wanted to hear.
Seo-ah pushed his hands away. In that moment, his face changed. As if someone were awakening something inside him. As if something that had been suppressed was rising to the surface.
“Why?”
Kang Ri-u asked. His voice was no longer human.
Seo-ah stepped back. One step. Two steps. Kang Ri-u followed. As if it were a dance. As if it were a predetermined pattern.
The river was behind Seo-ah. It felt very close. As if it were trying to pull her in. As if it were trying to complete her.
“I love you.”
Kang Ri-u said.
“I love you, so why…”
Seo-ah stopped listening to him. Her body moved. Moved by something other than her will. Her hand went into her pocket. There was a lighter. Like always. It was always there. She pulled it out.
Fire ignited. A small flame. In Seo-ah’s hand.
Kang Ri-u stopped. The moment he saw it, all his movement ceased.
“What are you doing?”
Kang Ri-u whispered.
Seo-ah didn’t answer. Instead, she raised her arm. The flame lit her face. It was very beautiful. And very frightening.
“I don’t know.”
Seo-ah finally said.
“I really don’t know.”
And in that moment, the flame that hadn’t gone out for so long reflected in Seo-ah’s eyes. As if it were the reflection of her soul. As if she had already become fire long ago.
The night was growing deeper. At the hospital, her mother would still be awake. Do-hyeon would be sleeping beside her. Hae-neul would be calling her. But Seo-ah couldn’t hear any of it. Because she already felt like she was in another world.
“Let me go.”
Seo-ah repeated.
“Please. Let me go.”
Kang Ri-u came closer. As if that were the answer. As if that were the only way.
And Seo-ah let him. Because she was already burning. Already beginning to burn. In her father’s name. In Kang Ri-u’s name. And in her own.
END OF CHAPTER 161