Chapter 54
Time is supposed to be fair—everyone gets the same amount. But the way it passes? That’s never the same. A minute can stretch into forever for one person, or vanish in the blink of an eye for another.
“Chanhee.”
Hyunjae’s voice cut through the stillness, cautious, like he was afraid to startle me. I hadn’t even realized I’d been frozen in place. Less than a minute had passed, but cold sweat was already trickling down my neck, my back. Only when I heard him did I finally close my eyes. A tear burned its way between my stinging eyelids.
“I’m sorry.”
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“No.”
It wasn’t nothing. But no was all I could force out. This suffocating, inescapable hell—it was worse than anything else. I stumbled forward, and Hyunjae fell into step beside me without hesitation. His quiet concern only made the guilt twist deeper.
“Are you sick? Headache?”
“No, really.”
I shrugged off his hand on my shoulder and walked faster. My thoughts were a storm. How much had Dohyun known? How had he even found out? Telling me to hide my name meant he was trying to bury the truth, and my father—he had no idea Hyunjae was Kim Hyunmin’s son. Seventeen years of this secret, this horror, and I was drowning in it. Eating his food, wearing his clothes, laughing with the man who had murdered my parents—how was any of that normal?
“Let’s go home.”
I tried to sound steady, but my voice betrayed me, trembling. Hyunjae didn’t push. He just followed in silence. My head spun. I wanted to black out, to stop thinking entirely, but the truth wasn’t something I could outrun. This was the beginning—the misery that bound Hyunjae and me together, the misery that would make him the center of this story.
I wanted to storm to my father, demand answers, scream why—but I couldn’t. I just stood there, paralyzed. What was the right thing to do? No, not right. What could I do to avoid becoming a sinner myself?
A bitter laugh escaped me. The idea of trying not to be a sinner was laughable.
Something brushed my shoulder—Hyunjae’s hand. I turned my head slowly and looked up at him.
“You’re hiding again.”
“……I’m not hiding anything.”
“You always say nothing when you’re lying.”
“……”
“I told you. I don’t want nothing between us.”
“This is different.”
“How, Chanhee? Every day, I look at you and wonder—what are you feeling? What are you holding back? Will you ever tell me?”
His eyes were unsteady, the corners glistening.
“Everything you say to me feels like a shell.”
A shell. The word settled in my mouth, heavy. A shell of Yu Chanhee. A hollow version of myself, with no identity, no one to confide in. If I was nothing but a shell, then a shell was all I had to offer.
“So I keep wondering. What does the real you, inside that shell, want to say to me? Or does he even want to say anything at all?”
“Hyunjae—”
“Even that’s just my guess.”
“……”
“Everything’s just a feeling. Just my emotions, my uncertain judgment. I’ve always watched your back.”
“……I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want to hear you say you’re sorry.”
“……”
“I just want to be someone you can talk to. Someone who can really listen to you.”
His hand fell away from my shoulder. I was lost. Where was the line I couldn’t cross with him? But Hyunjae—he wanted all of me, no boundaries. That meant—because—
“Do you like me?”
The words tore free, raw and unplanned. Hyunjae blinked, his head tilting slightly.
“Why are you asking that?”
His expression was unreadable—wronged, confused, exhausted.
“Why say something so… obvious.”
Of course. We’d never imagined a world where we’d have to ask. At first, it was too obvious to voice. Later, I’d been too afraid to ask if he felt the same.
“How deep is that feeling?”
I kept my voice vague. Hyunjae hesitated, like he was trying to read between the lines.
“Deep enough that losing you wouldn’t even leave a ripple?”
He nodded. I forced the corner of my stiff lips into something resembling a smile.
“What about you…? Don’t you?”
I met his gaze head-on, not looking away.
“If I said I liked you, would things change between us?”
“What do you mean? Of course—”
“Not just in theory. Really.”
My voice sharpened. I fought to keep the storm inside me from breaking free.
“Not just as people who like each other. Not just as a couple.”
“……”
“Could I be someone who forgives you for everything? Someone who accepts everything?”
Hyunjae’s eyes bored into mine. I couldn’t hold it. I looked down. Someone who could forgive and accept everything—even as I said it, I knew how selfish it sounded. That kind of relationship didn’t exist. And if it did, it couldn’t be us.
“……You are.”
His answer was precise, deliberate. I tried not to react, but it shook me to my core.
“How can you say that so easily?”
“It’s not easy.”
“It looks easy to anyone—”
“Yu Chanhee.”
His voice was low, rough. I lifted my head slowly. His eyes were trembling, like he was fighting to keep himself from breaking.
“I said it wasn’t easy. I told you that. So why do you always decide how I feel?”
His eyes were red, on the verge of tears. He glared at me, then looked up at the ceiling, like he was trying to hold them back.
“Just because I like you doesn’t mean you know all my feelings.”
“……”
“Every night before I sleep, I think about it. How can I make you understand me? Am I someone who can give you what you need?”
His voice steadied as he looked back down at me. Our eyes locked in the empty space between us. I couldn’t speak. It wasn’t just the anger—it was the realization that he wasn’t a character in some story. He was real. And that made this reality so much more terrifying.
“I’m sorry.”
It was all I could say. I couldn’t say anything else until Hyunjae spoke again.
***
After that, Hyunjae and I never got the chance to talk properly. The next day was the weekend, and I had to leave early for a meal my father had arranged.
“Congratulations on reaching Rank 1, Chanhee.”
The restaurant was one of those quiet, expensive hanjeongsik places, tucked away from the noise. I studied Kim Guhyeon’s face—it had been a while since I’d seen him.
“It’s all thanks to you, Director.”
“No, no. Rank 1 isn’t something you achieve with someone else’s help.”
“It can be. If there are people who make it possible.”
I was in a foul mood. No, disgusted was the word. The two men—one beside me, one across the table—were murderers. Hyunjae’s family. The thought made me sick. I wanted to stand up and run, to get as far away from this place as I could.
“Well, I suppose there aren’t any such people yet. Unless someone takes the exam for you.”
Kim Guhyeon smiled his usual pleasant smile and lifted his spoon.
A murderer eats. A murderer takes a spoonful of soup, puts it in his mouth. A murderer praises the food, chats idly about the ingredients. A murderer looks at another murderer. With that arrogant expression, he pretends to listen. Their gazes meet—both of them, murderers—and for a moment, their eyes land on me. I jerked upright without thinking.
“I’ll be back. Bathroom.”
I shoved my feet into my shoes and rushed to the restroom. I could feel the staff staring. I locked the door, lifted the toilet lid, and vomited. Everything I’d eaten came up. Even after the dry heaves, I didn’t feel any better.
There was still so much left inside me. Like the murderer’s blood running through my veins.
