Chapter 119
Chapter 119
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: 119. Apple Peels
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"Arin isn't coming, huh..."
Yoo Daon muttered as she changed the water in the vase.
Warm sunlight streamed in through the window, and beside it sat a fruit basket.
The fruit basket left behind by the Team Leader, along with a mirror.
He had mentioned having some HR business to handle and left like the wind, abandoning the basket.
"You haven't heard anything else, right, Daon?"
"There hasn't been any chance for that."
It'd probably be the same the other way around, Yoo Daon said with a smile, finishing up with the flowers before meeting my eyes.
"Anyway, you should take this chance to rest a bit."
"I know that well enough."
I should rest, I should rest. That's what I said and thought, but incidents always seemed to follow me around like this.
Life wasn't easy, sure, but it didn't have to be this tough.
"What about Chaeyeon?"
"Oh, Chaeyeon went off because the Team Leader asked her to help with something. He said it was something only she could do..."
...
Everyone needed to gather before we could talk or not talk about anything.
...
"Jaeheon, are you worried about Arin?"
Yoo Daon picked up a bright red apple and looked at me.
...
"Yeah."
What should I say to explain it?
I pondered my feelings for a moment.
I couldn't move rashly without knowing exactly why she hadn't come to see me.
It might be self-recrimination, or maybe just exhaustion with the whole situation.
If I went to her and she asked why I'd come, it'd just make things awkward again.
...
"I'm worried."
And that's what people usually call this feeling.
"Anyway, she's not replying to texts or picking up calls."
"That's true."
Yoo Daon rested her chin on her hand, thinking, then spoke up.
"Maybe she's on the rooftop?"
"The rooftop?"
"Yeah."
"How do you know?"
"I saw her go up there yesterday afternoon."
...
"That's been a few days."
She wouldn't be up there all day, every day.
Still, it was worth a shot.
I groaned as I got to my feet.
...
"Heading to the rooftop?"
"I'll be right back."
"Okay. Take care. I'll peel the apples while you're gone."
Yoo Daon waved with a smile, and I slowly stepped out the door, heading for the rooftop.
Ah, my side hurts.
*
The way up to the rooftop was pure torture.
More precisely, my condition made it torture.
"Oof..."
I let out a groan with every step up the stairs.
"I'm dying..."
Clutching my side, I groaned my way up.
Soon, I reached the rooftop door.
Whoosh.
Blinding sunlight hit me as I opened it, along with...
...
A scorching heat.
Would Song Arin really be in a place like this?
"Song Arin."
My voice echoed across the empty rooftop.
No one's here.
...
"Should I really wait here?"
Won't my wounds get worse?
...
"Ugh."
I sat on the hot concrete floor, staring blankly at the sky.
"Fine, whether my wounds fester and I die or I make it to the rooftop, let's see—"
"You're insane."
A curt voice cut me off.
"What. If you're here, answer when I call."
...
Song Arin stared straight at me.
"You."
"Yeah."
...
"You're hurt. Why'd you come?"
Her voice was still curt, but her eyes checked my wound.
"You okay?"
"No."
...
Song Arin shut her mouth.
"So come on time for once. Everyone else shows up, but when you don't, it bugs me, so I come looking."
...
She averted her eyes and muttered.
"Sorry."
"Good, you get it."
...
"You're not mad?"
...
"Me?"
Me? Why would I be?
As I made a genuinely puzzled face, Song Arin stammered in confusion.
"You got hurt."
"What does that have to do with you?"
...
"I couldn't protect you."
Was she seriously comparing herself to Yoo Daon right now?
"You're not Daon."
...
She clamped her mouth shut, then opened it again.
"Right. I'm not the black-haired one."
"So?"
"So I shouldn't have been so overconfident."
Song Arin sighed.
"If I'd done better, this wouldn't have happened."
...
Suddenly, I recalled the painting of hers I'd seen at the gallery.
[One Flock of Cranes]
Her standing alone amid a shining crowd.
Even in that room where you couldn't leave without doing XX, she just yearned for praise.
...
"You're doing great."
...
"If it weren't for you, who would've dug up that intel?"
She lowered her gaze at my words.
"That's..."
"Say it. Chaeyeon? Daon?"
...
She said nothing.
"See? You know it's something only you can do."
She still said nothing, then muttered in a small voice.
"It wasn't perfect. If the finish isn't perfect, it doesn't count."
"Who's perfect?"
Am I?
No.
I failed to save people in the theater, failed to save those whose minds broke on the cruise, failed to save the people turned into puppets in A Midsummer Night's Dream.
My deductions have failed and nearly gotten me killed, and even now, I'm racking my brain alone without knowing who my enemy really is.
"No one's perfect on their own."
I'd have died long ago without help.
"We get through it by helping each other, right?"
Song Arin stayed quiet at my words, then sighed.
"I'll do better next time."
"No need to pressure yourself."
She looked at me after I spoke, then opened her mouth again.
"First, let me tell you what I heard—"
"Ah, save that for when we're all together later."
...
She shut her mouth again, and I met Song Arin's eyes.
"I'm fighting a regressor."
...
...
"Song Arin?"
She stared at me blankly, blinked, and repeated.
"A regressor?"
"Yeah."
...
"Is this the memory I erased?"
"Yeah."
"So you know what I said too?"
"Yeah. I told you it was dangerous and not to tell anyone else."
"Then why'd you tell me, you idiot!"
She raised her hand to smack my arm, but her eyes went to my side and she lowered it.
"This makes me a variable for sure—"
"Doesn't matter."
...
"You might become a variable. But I've realized something."
This wasn't something I could handle alone.
"I need help from you three."
...
"Three? Wait, you've already told the other two?"
"Yeah."
Song Arin's movements froze.
...
"I'm last?"
"Yeah."
I heard her teeth grind, but just like that, she pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed.
"Fine. If that's what you think, I'll respect it."
"Right."
...
"Let's go talk inside. Who's there?"
Song Arin grabbed my arm and started walking.
"Why?"
"You said your side hurts. I'm supporting you."
You heard that?
Good ears.
*
-Scrape, scrape...
In the empty room after the man left, only the sound of peeling fruit echoed endlessly.
...
The moment he left, the smile on Yoo Daon's face vanished without a trace.
The mirror reflected only a woman impassively peeling fruit.
"Ow."
Stab. The paring knife sliced into her finger, blood dripping onto the bright red apple in crimson drops.
But as if the blood had never flowed, her finger returned to normal.
...
She peeled the fruit with a hollow smile.
She resented Song Arin.
"This is the only thing I can do."
She wiped the blood with her thumb and muttered emptily.
Immortality, Regeneration.
Some might call it a blessing, but to her, it absolutely wasn't.
It was a curse inflicted upon her.
Even when poison was injected at Kangseo University Hospital, even as her guts were ripped apart in agony, she yearned only for eternal rest.
Please, let this pain end this time. Please, let this horrific life end.
And as always, her body betrayed her.
No matter how many times she died, she revived, and exactly one year after hospitalization, she learned how to abandon herself.
If staring at an end that never comes made life painful, she just had to let go like a puppet doll.
But then, the sudden freedom granted to her—who had lived a life utterly unlike ordinary people for so long—was overwhelmingly burdensome.
By sheer luck, she wandered into the Management Bureau after not too long outside, and now she lived another life, but she had never once liked her ability.
And ironically, it was now the only ability she could rely on.
It was the only thing allowing her to stay by that man's side, to stand in front of him.
She was powerless.
She had no ability to kill a containment object in one hit, nor to manipulate people's minds.
...
The only reason she could stand by his side was that she could die for him.
She could yield everything else.
If he dated someone else or went on a trip with them, she had no intention of objecting.
She didn't belong in that spot.
But when he headed into mortal danger...
That spot by his side had to be hers.
Happiness could be shared with others. Sorrow could be shared too.
But pain alone had to be hers.
That was the only value she had by his side.
Yet this time, he hadn't chosen her—he'd chosen someone else.
Clang!
The knife hit the floor, a sharp sound ringing through the silent hospital room.
...
"I hate it."
She gripped her trembling hand and muttered.
"I can give up everything else."
She didn't wish for happiness with him. It was too much for her.
She didn't wish for conflict with him. It scared her.
But...
...
"Don't take away my only reason for existing."
Her powerless voice echoed in the room.
Footsteps approached.
The man's voice, and a woman's curt one.
...
She picked up the fallen knife and resumed peeling the apple.
The blood splattered on the peel could just be shaved off.
Then no one would know it had been there.
Whoosh. The door opened, and Yoo Daon turned with her usual smile.
"You two are back? I've almost finished peeling the apples!"
Was her smile the apple's flesh or its peel?
Even she no longer knew.