Chapter 17
Chapter 17
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 17
Chapter Title: Epilogue and Prologue
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The street soaked by rain offered a touch of something special amid the familiar.
I gaze at the window where water droplets trickle down.
The droplets on the glass fall at different speeds.
A miniature rain falls on the windowpane.
I look at the city that seems submerged in water.
The city lights, blurred like ink, give the illusion of being underwater.
Tiny specks of light glistening atop those lights catch my eye particularly vividly.
"Friends, huh."
The dictionary defines a friend like this.
A person you've known closely for a long time.
But somehow, that stiff definition feels a bit off for the word.
It seems to hold far more meaning than what's captured in the dictionary.
I stare at the empty beer glass, the empty seat.
Ber had stepped away for a moment, saying she was going to the bathroom.
Thanks to that, my mind wanders to many thoughts.
"Yeah. Friends."
It's hard to open up about what's inside.
I didn't want to burden her with my pointless emotions.
"Then at least hide your expression better. It's written all over your face."
Ber ruffled my hair roughly as she sat back down.
"What? When did you get back?"
"Just now. How far away is the bathroom?"
"You washed your hands, right?"
"Who knows?"
She shakes her head like it's dirty and bursts into laughter.
"Hahaha."
At least the mood seemed to lighten a bit, which was a relief.
The beret I was wearing fell off, probably because she ruffled too hard.
"Haven't you been wearing this for a long time now?"
Ber picked up the fallen beret from the floor and asked.
She examines it so meticulously from every angle.
"What are you doing? It's not up for appraisal."
"Occupational hazard."
She takes a sip of her beer, wetting her throat.
When she drinks coffee, she has this noble lady vibe, but with beer, she seems like a tough mafia type.
"It's just the first gift my disciples ever gave me."
Somehow embarrassed to say it, I turned my head and mumbled softly.
"Why be shy about it?"
Ber snatched the beret from my hands and covered my face with it.
"It just feels like a grandma delighted by her grandkids' gift."
"What? Your sensibilities are hard to grasp sometimes."
"Am I too ahead of my time?"
"Can you get more ahead than you already are?"
"True enough."
As we chatted like that, the awkward air from moments ago seemed to fade a little.
"Brought more drinks."
Right on cue, the Old Man returned with more alcohol.
"What? There was booze?"
"Only two cans left, they said."
He nods as if that makes sense and takes his seat.
"Cheers."
We crack open the cans, clink them together, and down the drinks.
I can't fathom why this barley-scented beverage I never cared for tastes so sweet now.
"So, what's the deal this time?"
"Huh?"
"Whenever you say you want to drink, it's never just ordinary stuff."
"Was it like that?"
"Yeah, it was."
Ber nods in agreement too. I feel a bit sheepish for no reason.
Ah, that explains it. That's why they make such a fuss every time I say I want a drink.
It was touching and embarrassing at the same time.
"Hehe."
"Not drunk already, are you?"
"I've only had one sip?"
"Right, but you could get drunk off that one sip. Don't underestimate your limits."
"Is that what that saying's for?"
Having tasted blood, Ber keeps teasing me relentlessly.
"Yeah, I couldn't believe it at first either. But you've got this efficiently low tolerance—one sip and you're done."
The Old Man joins in, teasing me hard.
"Hey, it happens."
In the Tower, alcohol isn't treated as poison.
If anything, it's left to the user's judgment.
Normally it's flagged as toxic, but you can exempt it just for drinking. Pretty convenient.
I don't get why it blocks cigarettes entirely but gives booze special treatment, though.
"Ha, 'not drunk,' my ass."
Ber shot Liv an incredulous look.
She hadn't even finished one glass before passing out drunk.
Liv lay sprawled across the table, clutching her beer can tight.
Her twitching leg proved she was still alive.
"Uhehe. Tastes bad."
"Hair's not for eating in the first place."
Ber pulled the strand of hair from Liv's mouth.
She looked utterly disheveled.
Yet somehow, she still had that beret on.
Or rather, it was just perched there.
"Ugh. Don't wanna say goodbye. Hate goodbyes."
"Why hate goodbyes?"
What was she even saying?
Liv was always hard to read, but lately it felt worse.
"It hurts too much. Don't wanna hurt."
Plip, plop. The falling rain wipes away the brief silence.
The night landscape drenched in rain had an exotic flavor.
In the Tower where change was rare, she didn't hate rain for bringing small shifts to daily life.
Come to think of it, Liv had introduced her to that whale called Golgoli or something.
The rain-making whale, Sky Whale.
The concept of weather, especially rain, personified as a whale child.
Wonder how that kid's doing now.
"Ah."
Then it hit her.
Why Liv was so sad.
It had taken her too long to realize, being so dense.
Rainy skies, the whale that makes the rain, and the girl who cherished that whale.
So "goodbye" meant farewell.
Ber silently stroked Liv's back.
"Hehe."
Liv giggled foolishly and snuggled in.
At the sight of Liv burrowing into her arms, Ber let out a helpless laugh and opened up.
"How can I see you as an adult like this? So fragile, such an idiot."
If it hurt that much, she could just share it. Why carry it alone?
"You're such a scaredy-cat, you can't even handle things on your own."
She knew so much about time because after her disciples died, she'd gone mad researching it for a while.
Ber knew because she'd funded those studies.
Liv had said she gave up because convincing the Tower and Abyss was too hard, but everyone knew that was a lie.
Though Ber didn't know the exact reason.
"Farewells are always tough."
Jang Chun-mong spoke up quietly from the corner where he'd been drinking alone.
"So that's why you've been avoiding me? Kinda hurts."
Liv's eyes widened as she looked at Chun-mong. Her expression confirmed it.
No wonder she'd been so startled when they crossed paths earlier.
"@#$. @#%#@. (But what can you do when it's scary? Saying goodbye makes the separation feel real.)"
Liv slurred in garbled speech. Chun-mong understanding it perfectly was the real marvel.
Classic drunk behavior, but Chun-mong took it in stride, accustomed to it.
"Scared that when we meet again, those people won't be the same."
Ber could make out the mumble this time.
"It'd be fun, like spot-the-difference, finding the parts that don't match your memories."
"Not differences, just... other."
Chun-mong chuckled at Liv's grumbled correction.
"Then maybe 'spot-the-other-picture' instead of spot-the-difference?"
Chun-mong took a swig and continued.
"But think about it. Saying that means you know, right? Even if they show sides different from your memories, it doesn't make them wrong. You're just seeing other sides of them."
Liv clamped her mouth shut, saying nothing.
"She's wasted."
Ber shook her head, pulling Liv closer to keep her warm.
"You said you like finding the special in the familiar rainy scenery, right? This is the opposite. Finding the familiar in the special—sounds fun, doesn't it?"
Chun-mong gazed out the window.
The sky was still dark. Rain poured from the cloud-filled heavens, drenching the city.
"Losing memories doesn't make them not them. Amnesia doesn't erase who they are."
"What if they don't like me anymore? Even if they're the same, no guarantee they'll like me again."
Liv muttered timidly.
"Time has elasticity, you said? Even better then. Your disciples will end up liking you in the end."
Like the quiet, soaking rain, their voices filled the room.
Liv talking with Chun-mong.
She looked in better spirits—good.
But Ber felt dissatisfied too.
With no one but herself.
She wanted to comfort her properly but couldn't even do that right. Pathetic.
No wonder Liv never opened up to her.
It made sense, but her mouth still tasted bitter.
She downed the rest of her beer in one go.
"Heehee. Thanks, Ber."
Liv grinned and snuggled in, making Ber spill her beer.
"Hey, what're you doing? You made me spill it all."
"Thanks."
"For what?"
"Just... thanks. I like that you're my friend, Ber."
You can't spit in a smiling face. Ber couldn't say more to Liv's beaming grin.
"What's this all of a sudden?"
Still, the corners of Ber's mouth crept up slyly.