I Am Afraid
Drab gray was bleeding into a many-colored rainbow. The bird that had been a lump of stone became a pigeon, and the mannequin became a person. The sculpture shaped like a car began to move, coughing exhaust, and the rigid leaves started to sway.
Air entered his lungs. Light warmed the crown of his head. Sweat ran down his cheek, and when a drop fell close to his lips he licked it away. It tasted of salt and water.
"Hah. Hah."
Time moved on. The tension he had been clamping shut burst like a broken dam, and the aftermath of the fight came rolling in late.
This is bad.
He felt a foreignness gnawing at me from the inside out. That foreignness was him as well—the very thing he had begged never to come looking.
It isn't time to go back to being Phantom yet...!
He had only just become able to speak his own name. He had only just become able to exist as Do Kyungsoo.
He forced down the hand that wanted to reach for his waist. The mask there grinned, wide and bright.
No. No.
Put that on, and he had no idea when he would come back to himself. Until then he would live as a mad phantom thief, doing nothing but harm.
That's what I wanted, I know! Just this once, let it go!
He had hidden behind the mask because he was worn out and exhausted, but he could come back out again, couldn't he? Why wouldn't it let him?
Contrary to that desperate inner plea, another will whispered.
"It's to protect me. Just leave it to me. There will be another chance. You've already suffered once, haven't you? It's all right to rest."
I'm not asking for much. Just this once. There's still a date left.
"No. I'm at my limit. Leave this any longer and there will be trouble."
I'm fine! What, you think I'm insane?
"He will not allow it."
A current ran down his spine. The back of his head went hot, and he turned without thinking.
The full moon he had thought was gone hung in the sky—vast, as if it were covering the sun, as if it might fall upon the Earth.
His teeth ground together.
I wasn't supposed to die back on Jeju!
A single death had twisted him into something uncanny and stolen the part of him that existed as himself. It had been an inevitable choice, a path he himself had taken, and yet he had never imagined it would be this inflexible.
It's a date, so you could let it slide! It's the wish of my whole life!
The desperate plea seemed to reach nowhere at all. The mask was already in his hand, and it was slowly being fitted toward his face.
Damn it. What am I supposed to tell Yumin?
Put this on, and the date would become hell. Because Phantom was that kind of bastard...!
"...Are you all right?"
A light tap landed on his shoulder. He turned a creaking neck and found Hong Yumin standing there, worry on her face.
"...Why are you wrestling with a mask in the middle of the street? Do you want attention that badly?"
He rolled his eyes around the street. People who had stopped to stare, people glancing over as they walked—every kind of gaze had gathered on him.
"...Yumin, it's not like I want to be doing this, okay? Could you wait at the café? Just a little. Just a little?"
He forced a smile and made his excuses. Naturally, they did not work. A deep furrow dug itself between Hong Yumin's brows.
"Who would wait, hearing talk like that? Honestly—do you get the itch if you go a single day without causing trouble?"
With a sharp snap she snatched the mask from his hand and threw it into a trash can.
"...Huh?"
The moment the mask vanished, his body snapped back to normal as if a ghost had passed through it. While he opened and closed his palm in a daze, Hong Yumin let out a heavy sigh.
"...I will not ask what happened. Tell me when the time comes."
She turned and went back to the café.
"What just happened?"
He stared at the trash can. The mask that had rolled in a moment ago was gone without a trace. He felt along his waist—nothing. His face was the same. The moon had hidden itself on the far side of the Earth, and the stares of the crowd slowly faded.
"Did I dream that?"
He pinched his cheek and twisted. It was real.
"...For now, back to the café."
He wanted to think longer, but he hurried after her before Hong Yumin's stare could turn truly terrifying.
What... was that?
Hong Yumin ate her cake and turned over the strange phenomenon she had just felt. A single instant split into thousands, and in the instant of splitting that instant again and again, she had seen it: a young man watching her from a hole punched clean through empty air. Eyes distant and deep. Darkness surging inside the void. A man darker than the darkness itself.
It had been faint as a dream, more fantastical than any fantasy. For only the briefest moment within it, Hong Yumin had glimpsed the aura of an Absolute. More transcendent than a god. More ultimate than Heaven. Enough to kill an immortal more easily than an ant. That she had seen it and was still alive was a miracle.
...I don't want to believe it was real.
By merely existing, it brought the world down. It forced her to understand that she was an ant, a frog in a well. Her soaring pride was worth less than a cesspit. Survival meant nothing. It was a presence that made one choose death of one's own accord. She wanted to look away and run.
I can't.
But Hong Yumin did not commit the folly of lying to herself. She had spent a whole lifetime that way. She could not do it again.
What have you been through?
The young man stupidly watching her for a reaction while sucking on his straw would not have put on a show with a mask for no reason at all.
What fight did you fight somewhere I could not see, somewhere I could not know?
She was dying to know... and she was worried.
...Ha! What am I thinking?
Worry was a luxury where this one was concerned. Hadn't he always handled things well enough on his own? As usual, when the time came, he would ask for help.
...He ought to.
She could not be sure.
Will it be the same from now on?
Would he suffer alone where no one could see? When in truth he was hurting more than anyone, would he brush the pain off as eccentricity and refuse help?
I'm afraid.
Afraid the delusion might be real.
I'm afraid.
Of your end.
I'm afraid.
Of myself, focusing on you.
Of you, and what you think of us—of me.
What do you think?
"Aren't you going to eat?"
"...I'm full. You eat it."
She speared a macaron with her fork and held it out.
"Thanks. I'll enjoy it."
The young man bit straight down on the fork.
"......"
"...What?"
"...Forget it."
...If Soryeong had seen this, there would have been a riot.
As if he had sold off every last scrap of tact, he had no idea what he had done wrong. Hong Yumin ignored him and speared what remained of the cake. The fork tasted bitter.
"Yumin, how could you eat that?!"
"Honey! Please! You can't go out!"
"Pele! Help! Heeeeeelp!"
"He might be more of a player than I thought."
"Grrrr."
"......How long am I supposed to stay here?"
"......"
"Going after holy water? I'm jealous!"
"We barely made it in time for the movie."
We bought tickets, got popcorn, and went into the theater.
"...You're going to eat more after all that?"
"Popcorn during a movie is different."
No matter how full you are, popcorn still goes down. We sat with the buckets in our arms. There was no one else in the theater. It felt as if we had rented the whole place.
We ate in silence through the ads for a long while. Then the lights went out, and the movie began.
It's been a long time since I watched a horror movie...
The first time since huddling with friends under a blanket.
Didn't think I'd be watching one with a woman.
I slid only my eyes toward Hong Yumin. She was watching, utterly unfazed. Not a speck of fear.
Well, of course.
It would be strange if she were scared.
If a movie ever scared Hong Yumin, it would be a guaranteed hit.
The greatest horror film in the world.
Just focus on the movie.
The film was slowly passing its midpoint. The protagonist couple, newly moved to the countryside, were glimpsing the truth behind the country folk who had welcomed them so warmly.
That scene...
Oh, fuck.
What the couple had glimpsed was the village performing a human sacrifice.
"We offer up this frail life first! O our god, grant us salvation!"
"Grant it!"
A wet thrust. The one who looked like the cult leader split open the bound lover's chest and pulled the heart free. The heart roared up in flame. The villagers wept and cheered at the sight.
My mind went white.
Of all the wrong movies, I had to pick this?!
Grabbing some horror film at random to kill time, without really looking, had been the mistake. If I had even watched the trailer—hell, just read the synopsis—this disaster would never have happened.
Showing a cult-horror movie to someone who suffered under a cult?!
Even if she beat me to death, I would have nothing to say. And sure enough—
Her grip crushed down.
"Hk...!"
My hand was caught. No. It was being crushed.
"Yu-Yumin?"
I checked on her, killing my voice as much as I could.
Hong Yumin was silent.
"...Should we leave?"
Still nothing.
Say something. Anything!
How was I supposed to handle the aftermath? When the movie ended, wasn't I dead? If Mi Soryeong found out, she would grind me up and drink me.
"......Huu."
I flinched. My body trembled on its own at the sound of her breath.
"Let's go. The movie's no good."
I started to stand first.
"It's all right."
Hong Yumin tightened her grip on my hand.
"Stay still."
"...Okay."
At her word, I had no choice but to sit back down.
The pressure kept increasing. The trembling was twice that.
She's scared.
I clasped her hand in return. The trembling faded. I held that small hand tight and gave her my warmth.
Hong Yumin did not tremble again until the movie was over.