Chapter 130
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 130
More than a month had passed since the day we went to see the cherry blossoms.
Many things had changed, and yet, some things had not.
First, the things that had changed.
To start with the visible ones, a clock and a calendar had appeared on one of the living room walls.
It made sense, didn't it? Eun-ah no longer had any reason to turn a blind eye to the passage of time, so such things were necessary for the days to come.
Eun-seol had ordered the clock.
When Eun-seol had emerged at one point, she’d heard a clock was needed, made a call somewhere, and had it delivered.
She’d said it was a gift for Eun-ah.
She’d mentioned something about it being commissioned from a foreign artisan. According to Eun-seol, she had ordered it back when she was running around trying to get rid of Eun-chae, and it had only just arrived.
It was a good thing in the end, since it saved us the trouble of going out to buy one, but Eun-ah had been utterly astonished by it.
It wasn't for any particular reason, other than the fact that the gift’s price was astronomical.
After all, the price of a single wall clock was in the tens of millions of won, so it would have been stranger not to be surprised.
…I thought I’d gotten used to Eun-seol’s spending habits, but moments like these still felt a little strange.
Besides the clock, another strikingly obvious change was that we’d torn off the electrical tape that had covered the living room window.
No, it would be more accurate to say we replaced the window entirely.
It made sense. The window had been covered in tape for nearly twenty years, so even after peeling it off, deep, blotchy stains remained.
The solution we came up with after some thought was to replace the window, and once again, Eun-seol helped out.
This time, too, Eun-seol made a call somewhere, and the very next day, the new window arrived, and she and I replaced it together.
Recalling the matter of the clock, I asked her if this was also a custom-made item, but she replied that it was just ordinary bulletproof glass.
I didn't know why we needed it to be bulletproof, but the person who ordered it was so nonchalant that I could only nod.
In addition, it was only after replacing the window that I discovered something: this living room we’d been living in had excellent natural light.
After learning that, Eun-ah and I developed a new daily routine: spreading out a blanket by the living room window during the sunniest part of the afternoon and taking a nap.
The spring sun poured down just enough warmth to feel like it was melting your skin, so when it was high in the sky, I would find myself drawn there to lie down without even thinking.
It might seem lazy at first glance, but if I had to make an excuse, isn't this the season of spring fever, when your body feels languid and you feel cozy inside?
It's a special kind of rest you can only enjoy during those drowsy afternoon hours, isn't it?
Napping is, after all, an excellent way to enjoy the spring.
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Now, moving on to the things that hadn't changed even after Eun-ah's delusion was broken, I have to mention the restraints scattered throughout the house.
In the end, we didn't remove the restraints.
…No, we couldn't remove them.
It was because Eun-ah stopped me.
The day we finished peeling off all the electrical tape and replaced the window, I asked if we shouldn't get rid of the restraints now, too. Eun-ah seemed to ponder it for a moment before declining.
When I asked why, she answered with a face a little redder than usual, "I'll teach you later."
My head naturally tilted to the side.
What did "later" mean? That was the question.
To get straight to the point, I learned its meaning in bed that night.
…Indeed, those restraints had a truly remarkable use.
I think that was the first time in a long while that I'd moved my body to the point of complete exhaustion.
Oh, there was one other thing that didn't change: we decided to leave the studio and the library as they were.
The reasons were that she might use the studio herself, and that it was a waste to throw away all the books filling the library.
Seo Han-gyeong's files, too… we ended up keeping them.
Whatever the case, it seemed she couldn't throw them away, as they were traces of a mother who was no longer with her.
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Dokyun read through the text on his smartphone, then let out a soft chuckle.
He was scanning through what he’d recorded lately, and a smile had escaped him.
The diary was a new hobby he’d picked up recently.
A desire to vividly record the day-to-day changes and the emotions he felt at the time had taken root, and what started as small entries had now grown to stretch well over twenty pages.
He wondered how he'd managed to write so much, but at the same time, reading it brought back memories of those days and made him laugh. His mind was filled with the thought that he'd done the right thing in keeping this diary.
And so, after chuckling for a while as he looked at his diary, Dokyun turned his head to look at Eun-ah beside him.
Eun-ah, who had been engrossed in her laptop, was just now stretching languidly as she sat up.
“Uggghhh…”
“You worked hard.”
“Yeeeah…”
After her stretch, Eun-ah, moving with a continuous, boneless motion, flopped over and rested her head on Dokyun's thigh.
Dokyun chuckled at the sight, then began to stroke her hair as he asked a question.
“Are you all done with your backlog now?”
Eun-ah had built up a large stockpile of chapters before Eun-byeol appeared, and after she returned, she had poured every waking moment into writing to replenish the stockpile that had been depleted during her absence.
Of course, this time it wasn't to escape from reality like before.
“Yes, yeeah… It’s Eun-sam’s turn the day after tomorrow, so…”
She was building up a stockpile to prepare for the times when her other personalities would be out.
This was the biggest change that had occurred since Eun-ah broke free of her own delusion.
Eun-ah had started communicating with her other personalities.
She had accepted that she suffered from Dissociative Identity Disorder.
The communication wasn't anything spectacular.
It was simply a matter of leaving notes in a notebook to talk to each other while their bodies were switched.
This had raised a question in Dokyun's mind, which he had asked Eun-seol the last time she was out.
He had asked if Eun-ah couldn't communicate with the others in the headspace, like they did with each other.
The answer that came back was: impossible.
Eun-seol had explained that Eun-ah and Eun-chae were too independent to communicate separately within the headspace.
Dokyun briefly recalled that conversation, then turned his gaze back to Eun-ah, a smile forming on his lips as he replied.
“Ah, so it's Eun-sam this time?”
“Yes, sh-she said she needs to write, too…”
Thump.
Dokyun's hand, which had been stroking Eun-ah's hair, stopped.
His pupils began to tremble violently.
Eun-sam's novel.
‘The Legend of the Seven D—’
A title he was afraid to even think of.
Feeling his composure waver for a moment, Dokyun only managed to pull himself together after he felt Eun-ah's gaze on him.
“Oh, right. Eun-sam wrote a novel, too.”
“H-Honeybee, have you read it?”
Dokyun felt another shiver run through his body at her question.
It was because those sentences that had made his head spin were now replaying in his mind.
“Y-Yes, I have…”
“H-How was it?”
At the repeated question, Dokyun squeezed his eyes shut.
‘Go Eun-sam…!’
Why are you putting me through this ordeal?
That wicked brat had shown me the novel without a moment's hesitation, yet she refused to tell Eun-ah the title of the story she'd written.
The reason she gave—"because it's embarrassing"—was so absurd it made him want to laugh.
It was astonishing.
He was astonished that such a person was capable of feeling shame, and even more astonished that she knew her novel was something to be embarrassed to show others.
‘Then why me…!’
Another wave of resentment washed over him.
But this wasn't a situation where he could resent her freely.
“H-Honeybee…?”
Eun-ah's question came again.
Dokyun forced a smile onto his miserably crumbling face and continued.
“It was… i-interesting…”
“R-Really?”
Curiosity, and moreover, anticipation, bloomed on Eun-ah's face.
Dokyun looked at her, then, lacking the courage to meet her gaze any longer, squeezed his eyes shut.
“Yes…”
Lying was such a painful thing.
*
The notebook where Eun-ah and her other personalities communicated was their own secret notebook.
In other words, it was a notebook Dokyun was not allowed to see.
The reason for this, it could be said, was that it had been Eun-byeol's idea.
Something about it being a "girls' secret." It was a reason Dokyun couldn't possibly understand, but seeing no need to press the issue, he had accepted that they wouldn't show him the notebook.
However, there were still moments when he became curious about its contents, and this was one of them.
“Pfft…!”
Right next to him, Eun-ah was stifling a laugh, the notebook held between her thighs as she read it.
“Khh…!”
Her face was bright red from holding back her laughter.
And what's more, her pen was moving diligently, which was impressive.
Seeing this, Dokyun felt an itch of restlessness.
Honestly, who could blame him?
No matter how hard he tried not to be curious, when someone was having that much fun right next to him, his eyes were drawn to it against his will.
He couldn't help but wonder what was inside.
So, whenever he tried to subtly shift his body in Eun-ah's direction to steal a glance at the notebook…
Snap.
The notebook would snap shut.
Followed by Eun-ah's sharp, pouting gaze.
The only thing Dokyun could do in response was flinch and offer up an awkward smile.
“Haha… My back was just a little stiff.”
“N-No, you can't…”
A gesture to hide the notebook from him.
“Th-This is our secret…”
“I know…”
Dokyun's shoulders slumped.
When you thought about it, this was a good thing.
They might be different sides of herself, but weren't they the first friends Eun-ah had ever had in her life?
If you set aside the strangeness of the concept of splitting oneself to make friends, it was a truly positive sign.
But that was only when judging it rationally.
For some reason, Dokyun felt a sense of melancholy, thinking that Eun-ah was growing distant from him.
‘Is this what it feels like to raise a child…?’
For some reason, Department Head Han's grumbling came to mind.
—The thing about daughters is, the moment those damn teenage years hit, they start treating you worse than a stranger. Telling me I smell like an old man, telling me to get lost… Ungrateful, after all I did to raise her!
Eun-ah wasn't his daughter, nor was she a teenager, but he was starting to sympathize a little with Department Head Han.
And why wouldn't he?
Now that she had more people to talk to, the attention she poured on him was diminishing.
Sigh.
A sigh escaped him before he knew it.
As Dokyun was subtly revealing his gloom, Eun-ah, who had noticed him, blinked a few times, then let out a small laugh and approached him.
“H-Honeybee.”
“Yes?”
At her call, Dokyun turned his head toward her, and an instant later, Eun-ah's lips pressed against his, then pulled away.
Chu.
A short sound rang out.
At that, Dokyun's face went blank for a moment before he realized what had just happened and turned red.
Eun-ah watched him, then tossed the notebook behind her and continued.
“S-Still, I like you the m-most, Honeybee…”
She said, her cheeks tinged with a slight blush.
Dokyun felt his heart begin to pound at her words, and he took her hand as he replied.
“I like you the most, too, Eun-ah.”
As he spoke the words, his parents' faces flashed through his mind, but he tried his best to ignore them.
His parents would forgive him.
After all, at thirty-two, wasn't it about time he became independent?