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# Chapter 95: Things That Cannot Return
The fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor flickered. 6:30 AM. An hour when dawn hadn’t quite finished forming. Seo-ah sat on a bench, and Haneul sat beside her. Neither of them spoke. There was no need to speak. Everything had already been said. In front of the police. In front of the USB drive. In front of the news of Kang Riu’s hospitalization.
Haneul drank coffee. Coffee from the hospital café. It couldn’t have tasted good, but Haneul drank it anyway. As if performing a ritual. As if this were proof of being awake.
“Did you see Kang Riu?”
Haneul asked in a very low voice.
“No.”
Seo-ah answered.
“Shouldn’t you?”
Haneul asked again.
Seo-ah didn’t answer. She didn’t know the answer to that question herself. Should she see him? Shouldn’t she? What was the difference? What would change if she saw Kang Riu? What would change in her?
“What did the police officer say?”
Haneul asked.
“They said a civil suit is possible. Damages for emotional distress.”
Seo-ah said.
“And?”
“And they told me to hire a lawyer.”
Seo-ah said.
“A lawyer.”
Haneul repeated the word as if hearing a foreign language for the first time.
“They said it costs a lot of money.”
Seo-ah added.
“Of course. Justice is always expensive.”
Haneul said. And took another sip of coffee. “But what are you going to do? Are you going to press charges against Kang Riu?”
When that question came, Seo-ah realized how much she didn’t know. What it meant to press charges against Kang Riu. How it would change her. Whether it would end something or begin it.
“I don’t know.”
Seo-ah answered honestly.
Haneul looked at Seo-ah while hearing those words. And her expression changed as if she’d realized something. As if this moment were a boundary line.
“Seo-ah. What are you doing right now?”
Haneul asked. For the first time, anger mixed into her voice. “You go to the police station, talk about pressing charges, talk about lawyers… and that’s you, really?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
Seo-ah asked.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that you’re pressing charges against Kang Riu without even knowing what it means. You don’t know if you’re protecting yourself or taking revenge. You’re just… drifting. Following someone else’s direction.”
Haneul said. And she took Seo-ah’s hand. Very firmly. Almost painfully.
“I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Seo-ah said. And for the first time, tears came. Or rather, they fell. Without her even realizing she was crying. As if her own body had betrayed her.
Haneul saw those tears. And she let go of her hand. Very gently. As if setting something down.
“Okay. Then I think you need to see Kang Riu first.”
Haneul said.
“What?”
Seo-ah asked.
“You’re running right now. Going to the police station, talking about pressing charges—it’s all running away. Instead of facing yourself.”
Haneul said. “That’s why you need to see Kang Riu. You need to meet his eyes. And you need to ask yourself: Is this revenge? Is this self-protection? Or do you just want to let him go? You need to know that before you take the next step.”
As Seo-ah heard those words, she felt something shake. Everything she’d tried to build. Everything she’d tried to construct while sitting in that chair at the police station.
“But that person tried to kill me.”
Seo-ah said very quietly.
“I know. That’s exactly why you need to see him. You need to see someone who came close to death. And you need to know how you feel about it.”
Haneul said.
A nurse passed in the hospital corridor, pushing medical equipment on wheels. The sound was very concrete. The friction of metal and rubber. The machinery of handling life.
“Which room is Kang Riu in?”
Seo-ah asked.
“Fourth floor, psychiatric ward. Room 409.”
Haneul said. “But it’s not visiting hours yet. It’s only 6:30.”
“When can I visit?”
Seo-ah asked.
“10 AM.”
Haneul said.
Seo-ah savored that time. Three hours and thirty minutes. What would she do during that time? What kind of person would she become? The last three hours and thirty minutes before meeting Kang Riu.
“Can I go home?”
Seo-ah asked.
“Why? To shower?”
Haneul asked.
“Yes.”
Seo-ah answered.
Haneul looked at Seo-ah. And her expression changed as if she’d realized something. As if she understood that Seo-ah was trying to compose herself. To align herself before meeting Kang Riu.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Haneul said.
Seo-ah’s goshiwon was still dark. Even though it was 7 AM, the lights were necessary. It was the kind of room without windows, or in a basement, or with walls so thick that sunlight couldn’t penetrate. Haneul sighed when she saw the room. Even knowing about it for three years, she sighed every time she saw it.
Seo-ah took off her clothes. Yesterday’s clothes. The clothes she’d worn to the police station. She dropped them on the floor. And she showered.
The water was cold. It took ten seconds for warm water to come, and during those ten seconds, Seo-ah stood there. Taking the cold water. As if trying to wake herself up.
After the shower, Seo-ah looked in the mirror. At her face for the first time. For the first time since yesterday. The face in the mirror was unfamiliar. Her eyes were swollen, her skin pale. As if it belonged to someone else.
Haneul knocked on the door.
“When are you coming out?”
Haneul asked.
“Now.”
Seo-ah answered.
Seo-ah got dressed. A black sweater and black jeans. The darkest clothes she owned. As if trying to erase herself.
When she saw Haneul, it seemed Haneul had the same thought. She was wearing black clothes. As if going to a funeral. Or going to war.
“Do you want to eat?”
Haneul asked.
“No.”
Seo-ah answered.
“You really need to eat. If you don’t eat, you’ll lose your strength.”
Haneul said.
“I know. But right now… I can’t.”
Seo-ah said.
Haneul didn’t push further. That was the Haneul that Seo-ah knew. Haneul, who didn’t force things but was still there.
The hospital corridor was brighter now. 9 AM. People had started moving. Patients, guardians, medical staff. Everyone moving toward their destination. Seo-ah watched them. And she realized something. Everyone in this hospital was standing at some kind of boundary. Between life and death. Between recovery and deterioration. Between continuation and cessation.
“409.”
Seo-ah read aloud. Reading the number on the door.
Haneul took Seo-ah’s hand. Very lightly. So lightly it could slip away.
Seo-ah pushed the door open.
Kang Riu was looking out the window. The window of the hospital room. A window where you could see the Han River. Morning sunlight was reflecting off the water.
He didn’t turn around when he saw Seo-ah. As if he hadn’t been waiting for visitors. As if this moment was unexpected.
“Hello.”
Seo-ah said very quietly.
Kang Riu turned around. Slowly. Very slowly. As if turning his own neck caused him pain.
His face had changed. Or rather, it had been stripped away. All the masks that Kang Riu had been wearing were gone. The refinement, the confidence, the control. All of it had vanished. What remained were only bones and eyes.
“You came.”
Kang Riu said, his voice broken.
“Yes.”
Seo-ah answered.
“The police said you went to the station. That you filed a report.”
Kang Riu said.
“Yes.”
Seo-ah answered.
“Are you going to press charges?”
Kang Riu asked.
Seo-ah didn’t answer. Not knowing if his question was directed at her or not.
Kang Riu sat on the bed. Very slowly. As if his body didn’t belong to him anymore.
“I tried to kill you.”
Kang Riu said.
“I know.”
Seo-ah said.
“That wasn’t love.”
Kang Riu said.
“What was it?”
Seo-ah asked.
Kang Riu didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at his hands. His hands. Pianist’s hands. Trembling hands.
“I wasn’t trying to kill you. I was trying to kill myself. Using you.”
Kang Riu said. And tears came. Or rather, they fell. Without him even realizing he was crying.
Seo-ah saw those tears. And she realized something. That Kang Riu’s tears and her own tears were the same thing. That they both carried the same weight. That both were irreparable.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Seo-ah asked. Not to Kang Riu, but to herself.
Kang Riu looked at Seo-ah. For the first time. Really.
“You have to live. The way I couldn’t.”
Kang Riu said.
When those words came, Seo-ah realized that her feet were touching the ground. And that her hands were her own. And that her voice was her own. Unless someone took them away.
“I’m not going to press charges.”
Seo-ah said.
Kang Riu didn’t move.
“Instead, I’m going to try to forget. All of this. You. Everything.”
Seo-ah said.
“What about me?”
Kang Riu asked.
“You’ll have to face yourself.”
Seo-ah said.
The sound of the Han River came through the hospital room. Or rather, it didn’t come. There was only silence. A very deep silence. Between two people.
Seo-ah turned around. And she pushed open the door.
Haneul was waiting in the corridor.
“Are you done?”
Haneul asked.
“Yes.”
Seo-ah answered.
“So what now?”
Haneul asked.
Seo-ah didn’t answer. Instead, she walked down the corridor. To leave the hospital. To step into the sunlight.
And in that moment, Seo-ah realized something. Who she was. What she wanted. What she needed to let go of.
It wasn’t Kang Riu. It was the flame she had burned for Kang Riu. Now it was time to extinguish that flame. And to light a new fire for herself.
The automatic doors at the hospital exit opened. Sunlight poured in. Noon sunlight. Very clear sunlight.
Seo-ah walked into that light. Holding Haneul’s hand.
And for the first time, Seo-ah felt that her footsteps were her own. Not someone else’s direction. Not someone else’s pace. Her own pace. Her own direction.
There might have been a voice from behind. Kang Riu’s voice. But Seo-ah didn’t listen. Or she heard it, but chose not to understand. Because she knew that voice could never be her own.
End of Chapter 95