Hey, Stop It
It was the moment I stepped into the living room.
I saw a silhouette curled up on the floor in front of the sofa. A white shirt. Disheveled hair. A red stain spreading over her wrist.
And something clutched in her hand.
Before my brain could even process the situation, something else registered first.
Red, swollen eyes. A phone that had been turned off for two days.
It was Yoo Sea-ah.
No, it wasn't Yoo Sea-ah.
In that split second, something snapped in my head.
"Hey!!! Fuck, stop!!!"
My voice burst out only after my body had already moved.
I ran.
With these thin legs, this fragile body, I just ran without a second thought.
I snatched the girl's wrist. It was cold. The chill seeped up through my palm.
I twisted her hand and wrenched away what she was holding. Whether she lost it because she lacked the strength or because she was too startled to hold on, the cutter knife slipped from her grip.
I hurled it away.
The blade clattered and slid across the floor.
Silence descended.
I was out of breath.
It was a short distance, but my heart was pounding right in my ears. I was painfully reminded once again of how poorly this body handled a full sprint.
I lifted my head.
I looked at the face in front of me.
It wasn't Yoo Sea-ah.
It was a face I had never seen before.
She was pale. Her hair covered half of her face. Her eyes were large. Right now, those eyes were staring at me.
Whether she was shocked, dazed, or both.
She was expressionless.
No, it was a face that had forgotten how to make expressions.
I was still holding her wrist.
I let out a breath, lifted the girl's arm, and checked the wound.
The fresh cut from today wasn't deep. It seemed I had stopped her just before she could really slice down. But beneath it lay a lattice of old scars. This wasn't her first or second time.
Without a word, I stood up.
I looked for the kitchen. I rummaged through the drawers under the sink. There were no clean towels. I briefly considered using a dishcloth, but instead went into the bathroom and brought out a proper towel.
The girl was sitting on the sofa.
I knelt on the floor and wrapped the towel around her wrist. I pressed down firmly.
I didn't say a word.
The girl didn't say anything either.
After securing the towel, I slumped onto the floor beside her.
I leaned my back against the sofa.
I stared at the ceiling.
It was a luxury apartment. The ceiling was high. Since the lights were off, only the dim light filtering through the window cast a faint glow across the living room.
There was a stillness to the vast space, as if it were completely empty.
The smell of a home where people lived, yet felt entirely devoid of human presence.
After a long silence, I looked at the girl.
"Are you Bae Si-ah?"
The girl nodded, her body stiff.
I pulled my bag closer and took out the envelope.
I slid it across the floor toward her.
"I came to deliver a notice from school."
Bae Si-ah looked down at the envelope. Then she looked at me.
There was something in her gaze. Utter incomprehension. She couldn't fathom what kind of person would cause such a scene only to hand over a school notice.
Meeting her gaze, I looked back up at the ceiling.
"You need to go to the hospital."
"..."
"Even if you don't want to, you have to. If you try to treat that yourself, it'll get infected."
Bae Si-ah spoke for the first time.
"Why did you come in?"
Her voice was low and dry. Completely drained of emotion.
"The door was open."
Bae Si-ah froze for a moment.
Her expression seemed to say she should have locked it. Or perhaps she hadn't even had the presence of mind to think of that.
I didn't ask any more questions.
Like why she did this, how long it had been going on, or if she was having a hard time.
I knew those kinds of words wouldn't reach her right now.
It had been the same with Yoo Sea-ah. When I went to see her, there was nothing I could say. Saying I was glad she was alive, or asking why she did it—it all felt incredibly shallow.
So I just stayed by her side.
That was all I did.
I leaned my back against the wall, closed my eyes, and opened them again.
Bae Si-ah asked quietly.
"Aren't you going to report this?"
"Do you want me to?"
Bae Si-ah didn't answer.
Without looking at her, I spoke.
"You have to go to the hospital. Just that."
Silence stretched between us.
Bae Si-ah stared down at her towel-wrapped wrist. Her face remained blank. She didn't cry. She didn't resist.
That lack of expression felt heavier than any tears.
A person who cries still has emotions left. A complete absence of expression was a different story entirely.
I sat there in silence.
From Bae Si-ah's perspective, this situation made absolutely no sense.
A strange boy had suddenly burst through her door. He had shouted, lunged at her, grabbed her wrist, and snatched the knife away.
That alone was enough to make her mind go completely blank.
But then, the next thing this guy did was fetch a towel to wrap her wrist. Then he handed her a school notice and slumped onto the floor.
She couldn't understand it.
She knew how normal people reacted in these situations. They would scream, cry, demand to know why she was doing this, or simply run away.
Yet this guy just sat there.
Staring at the ceiling.
Demanding nothing from her.
Bae Si-ah quietly studied his profile.
His face was pale and thin. His school uniform was somewhat rumpled. When he had wrapped the towel around her wrist, his hands had felt cold.
He was a stranger.
But strangely...
She wasn't afraid of him.
That was what felt even stranger.
Bae Si-ah was terrified of men. Having them come near her, or even speak to her. It had grown worse after that incident when she entered high school.
Since that day, every man who approached her overlapped with the memory of that incident.
But this guy didn't.
She didn't know why.
"Get up."
Han Gyeowol stood up first.
Bae Si-ah looked up at him.
Han Gyeowol didn't offer a hand. He just stood there.
If you're going to get up, get up. If not, don't.
That attitude struck Bae Si-ah as bizarre once again. It was impossible to tell whether he actually wanted to help her or not.
"I'll go to the hospital with you."
"..."
"It won't take long. You just need to get it treated."
Bae Si-ah stared at his face for a moment.
A face that didn't force a smile. A face that suppressed shaken emotions, trying its best not to let them show.
Bae Si-ah slowly pressed her hands against the floor and pushed herself up.
Her legs were numb. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there.
I walked toward the entryway first.
Bae Si-ah followed behind me.
Neither of us spoke while waiting for the elevator.
The hallway was quiet. The evening light slanted in through the hallway window.
Why did I suddenly sprint with all my might to stop Bae Si-ah?
Was it because I thought of Yoo Sea-ah? Because it was the exact same situation as back then?
Or was it out of some cheap sense of justice?
When I saw the scene, my body had already moved before I could think of such trivial things.
It was true that seeing Bae Si-ah's self-harm overlapped with memories of Yoo Sea-ah.
But even to me, telling her to go to the hospital like this felt strange.
It was natural to worry when seeing someone self-harm, but I was trying to take someone I had only met today to the hospital with my own hands.
When I didn't even have the money to pay for her hospital bills.
My own life was too difficult to worry about, let alone taking care of others.
When I was young, I liked taking care of others. I liked seeing people happy because of my actions, and I found happiness in that.
But at some point, I became someone who didn't care much about others.
I learned while living with the other kids in the orphanage that living kindly in this world only makes you an easy target.
Even when you acted out of goodwill, you rarely got anything in return, or worse, you were taken advantage of.
After going through dating and military service before coming to this world, I had wondered if I could trust people again, unlike during my school days.
But after Yoo Sea-ah broke up with me, the pain was unlike anything I had ever felt. I resolved never to date again, and never to help anyone else.
I thought I had steeled my heart, but in the end, here I was again.
I guess I just can't help myself.
Seeing how my body moved first, driven by that ingrained habit of caring for others, proved it.
In truth, when Yoo Sea-ah was struggling with depression, the times I spent taking care of her and looking after her were when I was happiest.
Even though recovering from that depression was ultimately what led her to leave me.
Now, none of that mattered. First and foremost, a hurt person needed to go to the hospital and get treated.
The elevator doors opened.
The two of us stepped inside.
The doors closed.
It was a cramped space.
Standing in the corner of the elevator, Bae Si-ah cradled her towel-wrapped wrist with her other hand.
Han Gyeowol stood facing the door.
Staring up at the descending floor numbers.
Bae Si-ah stole a glance at his face from the side.
She recalled the voice that had shouted earlier.
'Hey. Fuck. Stop.'
It was a remarkably loud voice to come from such a small frame.
The words were harsh. Yet, that voice hadn't been scary.
On the contrary...
It had sounded almost desperate.
Bae Si-ah shook the thought from her head.
He was a stranger. She didn't know why he had come, or why he was doing this.
Han Gyeowol kept his eyes on the door.
His mind was elsewhere.
It had been the same with Yoo Sea-ah. I couldn't say a word; I just stayed by her side. Even now, I didn't know if that was the right or wrong thing to do.
But back then, Yoo Sea-ah had gotten better.
Perhaps this girl...
There was no way to know.
The elevator doors opened.
It was the first-floor lobby.
Han Gyeowol stepped out first. Bae Si-ah followed a beat later.
The automatic doors slid open, letting in the evening breeze.
Bae Si-ah paused for a moment as the wind hit her.
She couldn't remember the last time she had stepped outside.
Without looking back, Han Gyeowol spoke.
"Which way is the hospital?"
After a brief silence, Bae Si-ah gave a quiet reply.
"...That way."
Han Gyeowol turned in that direction.
Bae Si-ah watched his retreating back for a moment before taking a step forward.
In the evening alleyway, the sounds of their footsteps overlapped.
They walked on in silence.