# Chapter 58
They had already experienced how when one person dies, the other inevitably slowly loses breath too. They are each other’s lives, so the message was not to get hurt in any situation. Since their life itself is like a two-person team project, they should never get sick, die, or sacrifice themselves for the other.
Doha and Jaei pressed their foreheads together, tightly clasped all four hands together, and offered a “Prayer for the Longevity of Ryu Doha and Lee Jaei” before leaving the house.
They got off the elevator holding each other’s hands tightly. Before getting into the car, Jaei caressed Doha’s large hand for a long time. He thought it was truly fortunate to have been able to watch the process of hands that were once as small as half-moon dumplings gradually growing and finally becoming adult hands. He carefully traced the beloved bones and skin that were practically his own, then lovingly kissed each knuckle.
“Oh, right, I should say this before we go. I don’t think I’ve ever said this directly with my own mouth. I’m really sorry for hanging up on your call that day, Doha.”
At the sudden apology, Doha tilted his head with a troubled expression and tightly gripped Jaei’s wrist.
“Why are you saying that all of a sudden? Don’t act like it’s the last time. If you do this, I won’t let you go.”
“I’m just being sentimental. Finally, I have a chance to put down the burden in my heart too.”
Bringing to light Doha’s unjust death had somehow become a mission in Lee Jaei’s life. Perhaps he was much more desperate than Doha. Maybe from the beginning, it was his share of work, not Doha’s. Doha’s death originated from Lee Jaei. He thought only after punishing Hong Duyoung would he finally be able to recall that day without tears.
And he felt deeply grateful to Doha for agreeing with his opinion.
“Thank you for believing in me. I’m just a troublesome, high-maintenance fool. Thank you so much for believing in this fool.”
Idiot #2, with reddening eyes, blinked and spoke. Idiot #1, whose eyes had also reddened in response, gently pinched Jaei’s cheek and said:
“You’re more grown-up than me now. Because once you were a much bigger adult than me.”
Doha, who had started answering as Ryu Doha, soon became Lee Doha.
“Hyung’s choices have never been wrong. I bet everything on believing in hyung’s choices.”
That was Lee Doha’s love, slightly different from Ryu Doha’s love. If Ryu Doha regarded Lee Jaei as someone he wanted to protect with his life, Lee Doha loved Lee Jaei as a milestone in his life. Absolutely believing and following his words was an expression of his love and respect for him.
Jaei lightly kissed Doha’s lips, which were smiling like when he had hugged the fox pencil case Jaei had chosen for him, then got into the car.
“See you later. I love you.”
He still felt shy, thinking his love seemed much smaller compared to Doha’s. After resolving this matter, he thought about ostentatiously making a big show as if theirs was the love of the century.
He parked his car in Hong Duyoung’s apartment parking lot and watched “Meditation to Gather Strength to Subdue an Opponent Before a Fight.” But even without such videos, at this moment, Jaei was in the strongest state of his life. Confidence surged that he could accomplish anything, and his heart grew cold.
He also fanned his head diligently to fully engage his brain. After researching hard about how to improve intelligence, he learned that to activate brain function, one should keep the head cool. He would show Ryu Doha that he was a man who could do anything for love.
Hong Duyoung, who opened the door looking no different than usual, guided Jaei to the living room and handed him a printed script section along with peanut tea.
“Now I really just need to write the final ending. Jaei, I really want you to help.”
Jaei maintained his cool head and heart as he read through the script Hong Duyoung had written. It was a scene featuring Haeyoung and Heejai. Haeyoung confessed everything to Heejai, who had lost Yuha twice. As he read through it, Jaei muttered dejectedly:
“So there was a twist…”
In reality, Haeyoung deliberately dropped hints during a drinking session with Heejai, pretending to be drunk, that “I was with Yuha at the moment he died.” That greatly provoked Heejai. And he continuously provided hints that he was the culprit who killed Yuha.
Haeyoung knew everything from the beginning. That Heejai had vowed revenge, that Yuha’s brother was pretending to be Yuha, that they were plotting revenge and acting in front of him. Even that they would eventually reveal their claws of vengeance.
“To an adult’s eyes, children’s games are amusing. Because I can see right through what they’re doing.”
Jaei, with eyes full of tears, looked at Hong Duyoung with resentful eyes. His hands holding the script trembled with fear and terror. Hong Duyoung continued:
“I must discuss the rest of this story with you. I’ll write whatever you decide, Jaei.”
Jaei couldn’t speak and just cried.
“What Haeyoung ultimately wants is forgiveness from Heejai. He killed Yuha and waited 13 years for that ending. Haeyoung wants forgiveness from Heejai more than from the audience. It’s the moment when Heejai finally completely abandons Yuha and chooses Haeyoung.”
Jaei swallowed his tears and asked:
“What if he can’t forgive?”
“Haeyoung will eliminate Heejai, who wants to reveal his crime to the world and trample his honor. He’ll set up a beautiful death so his beloved Heejai can die as gloriously as possible. However, the work will remain with the audience forever, and people will remember him.”
Hong Duyoung approached Jaei, who had collapsed with his mental state half-gone, and boldly searched his body. When he searched his pockets, he found an active voice recorder. Hong Duyoung smirked and also took away the smartwatch that was recording voice memos while still attached to Jaei’s wrist. He also collected the phone openly placed on the table and turned it off. Then he seized the entire bag Jaei had brought. A sub-phone was hidden among the various items deliberately packed inside.
Realizing that the recordings would be useless, Jaei let everything be taken without resistance. Then he sighed as if everything was over. After turning off all the electronic devices Jaei had brought, Hong Duyoung sat down across from him on the sofa and continued:
“I’ll send you back within an hour. Well, you must have made arrangements with Ryu Doha, right? You probably came up with a childish strategy like, ‘If I don’t come back within an hour, come looking for me.'”
Jaei, as if all his plans had been shattered, spoke desperately while half-collapsed with a hollow expression:
“Did you really have to kill Doha?”
Both expected and unexpected things happened simultaneously, yet Lee Jaei remained exactly as he was when he first set foot in this house. I don’t understand why he acts so well.
Hong Duyoung, having confiscated all of Jaei’s recorders and feeling safe, finally revealed his true feelings:
“Yes, he had to die. For you. And for the ending of the work I wanted. Oh, to be precise, for this moment between you and me today.”
“So you killed an innocent fourteen-year-old boy through a contract killing just for that?”
“Jaei, I really can’t stand kids who have nothing but are still positive about everything. I couldn’t just stand by and watch him even contaminating you. You succeeded as an actor because you lost that child. Even you can’t deny this.”
Jaei screamed painfully. With a very cold head and heart.
Soon Jaei began performing in detail—pallor, purple-tinged lips, even tremors. Looking like his mental state had completely collapsed, he said to Hong Duyoung:
“I absolutely won’t die… I… I won’t die. I don’t want to die…”
“Forgive me. Then I will never hurt you. Nor that pitiful Ryu Doha’s brother.”
Right now, Jaei was giving the performance of his life while observing Hong Duyoung from head to toe. In Hong Duyoung’s script, there were many instances where conversations he and Jaei had in reality were written exactly the same, down to the smallest particles. He would completely change dialogue that needed changing, but he kept quoted dialogue almost verbatim, and the order of exchanges was the same as in reality.
Even Haeyoung’s lines in the death scene Doha recently filmed were exactly the same, down to the smallest particles, as what he had said in Doha’s recurring nightmares. Doha might have shocking events etched in his mind that kept replaying in dreams, but Hong Duyoung wasn’t like that.
No matter how intelligent Hong Duyoung was, it was impossible to perfectly remember every moment of conversation, especially ones from over a decade ago. And he wasn’t someone who was seen taking notes immediately. So there was only one possibility. Hong Duyoung always carried a voice recorder. He recorded every moment of daily life that could become material for his work. Jaei was 100% certain.
Jaei, who had continuously worked on developing his brain, already knew that all the recording equipment he had deliberately and obviously brought would be confiscated. There was no way Hong Duyoung wasn’t recording this moment himself. How important was this part? It was the climax, so to speak—the scene where he confesses all his crimes to Lee Jaei and urges forgiveness.
What kind of recorder might he use always, everywhere, even when working with many people, when alone with someone, even when a dying boy was right in front of him? Not his glasses; he often didn’t wear them. A necklace? The pendant was too small to be a recorder.
Would he keep a voice recorder in his pocket? But the probability of carrying something that could be witnessed by others at any time seemed low. Slippers were only worn at home, so obviously not…
Exhaling slowly, Jaei thought it was about time for Doha’s plan to be executed and checked the time over Hong Duyoung’s shoulder. Somehow, 35 minutes had passed since his arrival. At that moment, he felt a strange sense of incongruity. For a while now, Jaei’s large, fennec fox-like ears had been hearing the sound of clock hands moving. Tick, tock, tick, tock.
The wall clock Jaei just checked the time on was an LED clock. Pretending to sigh, he turned his head and started looking for an analog clock. In a relatively quiet environment, anyone could hear the ticking of a wall or desk clock’s second hand. However, the additional clock Jaei spotted was a digital frame on the wall. The time was also displayed on the set-top box beneath the TV. Then where was this ticking sound coming from?
Jaei just closed his eyes and concentrated his nerves on the sound for the first time in a long while. Without the preconception of it being a wall clock, he tried to sense the direction the sound was coming from. Though he had worked to dull his sensitive nerves as he grew up, this was a sense he had from birth, and in quiet places, when he heightened his nerves, he could always hear sounds others couldn’t.
The good fennec fox living in the city, who trembled in fear every day because he could hear sounds too well, opened his eyes and stared in the direction the sound was coming from. Hong Duyoung’s wrist, covered by long sleeves. The analog wristwatch that had always been naturally attached to Hong Duyoung’s body. No, probably a recorder that had doubled as a watch for his entire life.
At that time, Doha, not far from Hong Duyoung’s house, had moved with his manager and parked the company-provided car, and was doing a live broadcast with the company-provided phone.
Recently, with increased SNS exposure, his followers had grown exponentially, and now quite a lot of people came to watch Doha’s broadcasts. Of course, many of them were Jaei’s fans.
“Ah, Lee Jaei sunbaenim? Yes, we’re close. I don’t know if sunbaenim thinks so too, but I consider us close. We were eating shaved ice together until just a little while ago.”
Doha, showing off his handsome face under his cap, opened his eyes wide while looking at the chat and said:
“Right now, sunbaenim is…”
