March Novel (Completed) - Chapter 106

“Ah. Ahh.”

Sehwa let out a long, drawn-out, meaningless sound, repeating it several times. Every morning after waking, his throat would sting as if shards of glass were embedded in it, but for the past few days, even that pain had vanished.

At first, he thought it was a good thing, no longer hurting, but it wasn’t that the pain had subsided; it was more like his senses were slowly disappearing, as if he were paralyzed. Now, even warm water felt indistinguishable in temperature.

In any case, it didn’t seem like a good sign, so he was careful not to arouse suspicion from Lieutenant Na, who was in charge of him. He was floundering, buried in memories that assaulted him several times a day, yet he still couldn’t recall how he ended up hospitalized.

How long had he been here? They said he had undergone surgery and hovered between life and death for over a week, so if he added that time, it must have been close to a month. Money was leaking away even if he just sat there breathing, and he didn’t want to waste meaningless expenses on tests that seemed to have little effect.

“So, what kind of surgery was it…”

Sehwa stared out the window with a desolate feeling. Just as his memory seemed to be returning, his body refused to cooperate. What did he want to forget so badly that his body was so violently rejecting life? For him, who had a stronger will to survive than anyone, this situation was simply baffling.

Of course, Sehwa’s biggest question right now was Gi Taejeong himself. Why was that man being so kind to him?

At first, he suspected Gi Taejeong had taken an organ, or was planning to. If not for such a purpose, there was no reason to bring him to such a nice place and care for him with expensive food.

There was no such thing as kindness bestowed without reason in this world. Moreover, what could a man like him, who was astonishing in every aspect from appearance to rank, possibly lack that would make him say he had done Sehwa much wrong? It wasn’t uncommon for lower-class people to be crushed like insects by a mere gesture from those in high places.

Surely he wanted something from Sehwa, which was why he was practically living in his hospital room… Yet, he didn’t seem to enjoy gambling or drugs.

‘Brigadier General.’

‘Hmm.’

‘Did I, perhaps… entertain you in a different way, General?’

He had phrased it as indirectly as possible, but what he meant was, had he sold his body to him all this time? The thought of what kind of mess he would be rolling in a year later was terrifying, but… there weren’t many things a man could take from him, and after ruling out the two most significant, this was all that remained.

‘…What?’

‘You don’t seem to need drugs…’

‘……’

‘And as for Hwatu,’

‘Lee Sehwa.’

‘……’

‘I told you, you’re not a prostitute.’

And to Sehwa’s difficult question, Gi Taejeong rarely froze his expression and retorted sharply.

‘It’s not a profitable business, and you hate being treated like that by people, right? Wasn’t that your business principle?’

‘Ah… Yes, that’s true, but…’

‘Then why? Is that the only thing you imagine when you see me?’

An indescribable emotion was embedded in the man’s calm voice. He didn’t seem angry. He just… seemed a little shocked. It might have been his imagination, but he also seemed hurt.

‘But… if it wasn’t for something like that, where would I meet someone like the Brigadier General?’

‘……’

‘So, if my body was broken somewhere and I had surgery… no, even if there was a problem, there’s no reason for a Brigadier General to specifically take care of me, but…’

‘It’s not like that. You never did anything like that.’

‘……’

‘…I…’

After that, Gi Taejeong remained silent for a long time. Sehwa was curious about the words he swallowed, but he couldn’t press him further. He felt a firmness from the man, as if he would not offer any answer on this topic.

Well, if it wasn’t that, it was a relief… but the discomfort and questions only grew. He only hoped that whatever it was, it was a tremendous wrong that could justify this luxurious treatment.

After that, Gi Taejeong neither urged him to regain his memory nor showed frustration at his seemingly endless condition. Except for one time, when he leaned his forehead on Sehwa’s hand and exhaled a long, writhing breath as if collapsing, he treated him as if nothing had happened.

Days passed like that. When he opened his eyes, he saw Gi Taejeong. Then they exchanged greetings, asking if they had slept well, and ate together. He sometimes asked what unfamiliar fruits tasted like. He even brought bedding that wasn’t from the hospital and asked if the texture was okay. More precisely, he wanted to know what Sehwa liked.

There were many times they sat side by side, silently staring out the window. At such times, a hollow place beneath his sternum seemed to hum. An inexplicable sadness and a hatred that had lost its target surged forth. If that were the case. If it were to be like that. Tattered sentences, with all the important parts missing, fluttered in his mind.

“Mr. Lee Sehwa.”

A knock sounded, and after a brief pause, the door swung open. It was Lieutenant Na, the military doctor who had supposedly pulled him back from the brink of death.

“I took a walk after lunch, and it’s quite hot outside.”

Indeed, Lieutenant Na smelled of dry sunshine. Sehwa, who had even forgotten the season, simply nodded.

“Don’t you want to go out? Even for a little while?”

“…No.”

He barely managed to reply in a muffled voice, and Lieutenant Na nervously touched his eyebrows, looking troubled.

“Hmm, are you uncomfortable anywhere?”

“……”

“Still, it would be good to try doing everyday things little by little… Is there anything you want to do? Like read a book, or watch a movie.”

He couldn’t possibly have such grand hobbies. Sehwa’s daily life consisted of shuffling Hwatu cards and rolling drugs. Of course, he would be grateful if he were given time to practice so his hands wouldn’t stiffen, but… he shouldn’t display illegal activities in front of soldiers, no matter what.

“There’s a children’s storybook in the pediatric ward. Would you like to read that today?”

Lieutenant Na pressed a button on his watch and entered something into the screen. That watch, which only soldiers could use, was laden with functions ordinary people didn’t know about. Of course, Brigadier General Gi Taejeong’s watch was far more elaborate than Lieutenant Na’s.

The watch…

Sehwa, staring at the small hologram floating above the dial, felt a sudden chill down his neck and hastily lowered his head. He felt as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have. He didn’t know when it started, but whenever he saw that watch, his heart would plummet.

“This time, I asked for it to be brought, but tomorrow, Mr. Lee Sehwa, let’s go choose one yourself. The bookshelf isn’t far from the room. How about it?”

He really didn’t want to go out… As he hesitated, searching for words to refuse, the door swung open. Was it Master Sergeant Choi… or something? Anyway, that person was panting, hugging an armful of books.

“You’re already here?”

Lieutenant Na’s eyes widened. Sehwa was just as surprised.

“Is this enough? Should I bring more?”

“What is this?”

Just then, as if he had just finished work and returned, Gi Taejeong stood in the doorway, frowning in disbelief.

“What’s all this commotion in a patient’s room?”

“Ah, Brigadier General. I apologize, I don’t have a free hand right now…”

“I asked him to bring some books for Mr. Lee Sehwa to read.”

Lieutenant Na quickly saluted and helped Master Sergeant Choi with his load. Gi Taejeong, who seemed about to scold them, merely twitched an eyebrow at the explanation.

Sehwa, feeling awkward, pressed down on his messy side hair with his palm. The man seemed to think that anything was fine if it was for him, no matter what chaos ensued.

“I’m back.”

At some point, he had been greeting Sehwa with a calm “I’m off,” and “I’m back.” Then, taking off his military jacket, he would briefly recount his day.

He had been to the Ministry of National Defense, had a meeting at the Air Force headquarters, reviewed the introduction of new fighter jets… It was more like summarizing his main tasks for the day than having a conversation, but Sehwa liked that moment the most.

His eyes, which seemed calm but twitched slightly as if hesitating, his low voice, his gaze that subtly scanned Sehwa as if expecting something… Sehwa liked all of Gi Taejeong’s slightly awkward actions, and yet, strangely, he felt sad. Many words he wanted to say to the man welled up and then subsided repeatedly.

“Now, pick one.”

Lieutenant Na and Master Sergeant Choi stepped back, pointing to the storage cabinet. Sehwa hesitated, then got up. He wasn’t interested in books, but he mostly didn’t want to show his walking.

Recently, Gi Taejeong, Lieutenant Na… everyone who came to the room, seemed to be keenly observing his steps, saying he seemed to be limping slightly on his right leg. His leg didn’t hurt at all, though his throat felt a bit strange.

His side face stung from the intense gazes. Sehwa, feeling a little intimidated, moved forward.

He tried his best to ignore their stares, looking only at the floor, when suddenly, startled by a long, extending shadow, he involuntarily trembled violently.

“…Ah.”

The owner of the hand, which wrapped around him like a black snake, was, of course, Gi Taejeong.

“I’m sorry…”

The large hand, which had paused in mid-air due to his strong rejection, then firmly gripped his arm. Gi Taejeong should have been embarrassed for being treated so badly when he was trying to help, but he didn’t scold him at all. He simply supported him so he could step forward easily. Seeing the two people’s massive tangled shadows, Sehwa felt a strange nausea, and he awkwardly turned his head.

The books in the empty cabinet varied in size and color, but their colorfulness made the room feel brighter. Sehwa reached for a book, then paused and glanced at Gi Taejeong. He felt as if he shouldn’t touch it without his permission.

Gi Taejeong was conversing with Lieutenant Na using only lip movements. Then, perhaps sensing Sehwa’s gaze, he merely flicked his eyes to look at him. He closed his eyes deeply, then opened them, swallowing a sigh.

“…Read comfortably.”

“……”

“Don’t mind me.”

“Li…”

Lie.

Sehwa gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth. He had almost blurted out what he had only mumbled to himself. And a lie? He had kindly told him to read comfortably, but he didn’t know why he felt such a surge of indignation at those words. Sehwa suppressed the boiling, unruly feeling and picked up the thinnest book.

The pages turned easily, so much so that he felt embarrassed for having procrastinated, saying he didn’t want to read. He pretended not to care, but in fact, it was interesting.

Sehwa lingered for a moment, then carefully took out another book. Since it was mostly pictures, it took him less than five minutes to read it to the end.

Had they said it was a book from the pediatric ward? That must be why it focused on protagonists’ wishes coming true rather than moral lessons about good triumphing over evil. The wishes were all incredibly modest: going on an adventure with a puppy in a dream, or eating a mountain of chocolate.

“It seems there are no major issues with his cognitive abilities.”

Lieutenant Na, who had been watching from behind, suggested they try other things little by little. Even if he didn’t want to, he should go for walks, and they should start counseling soon.

“If you stay inside, it will only get worse.”

Lieutenant Na gently coaxed him, reading the refusal in his sullen expression. Sehwa stubbornly kept his mouth shut and took out another storybook.

He knew his actions were contradictory. Life in the special room was burdensome, but he didn’t want to go outside. It wasn’t that he disliked returning to the house and resuming his life as a player. He literally didn’t want to step out of the room. That one step felt strangely terrifying. He felt as if something bad would happen if he opened the door and went out.

“Your body still seems uncomfortable. Especially your leg.”

“He didn’t have any issues until now, but he started limping as his memory returned, so it seems largely psychological. It’s time for aggressive treatment under the guidance of a psychiatrist.”

Sehwa flipped through the pages of the new book, letting the conversation between Lieutenant Na and Gi Taejeong wash over him.

It was a book about a little boy’s adventure, who wanted to fly in the sky. The page he opened was filled with a clear blue sky. Below it was green grass, and in the distance, sporadic light green mountain peaks could be seen.

“…Ah.”

Sehwa, quietly looking at the picture, involuntarily let out a small gasp. No, perhaps it was a sigh. A long, wavering sound, neither a groan nor a cry, escaped him.

“Ah, ugh…”

He had definitely seen a similar scene somewhere before.

Sehwa hastily covered his mouth. Suddenly, his insides felt completely crushed.

“Lee Sehwa!”

Gi Taejeong, noticing his abnormality, called his name. The book he dropped clattered loudly to the floor, and at the same time, he felt something shatter inside his body. It felt as if the thin glass wall wrapped around him had completely broken.

Crushed glass shards flew everywhere, and following the wildly scattering light, unfamiliar images poured out. It was definitely a memory Sehwa had experienced at some point.

Yes… he had flown in such a blue sky with Gi Taejeong. Below them was faded grass, and when he turned his head, he saw him, smiling, shaking his sweat-soaked hair.

He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them, and the overturned sky had poured down onto the ground, becoming clear blue water, lapping. Sehwa was surrounded by white spray, descending an escalator with Gi Taejeong. He had put a uniform cap on him and whispered that they would truly go see that sea when everything was over.

The sea.

As he mumbled the word in his mouth, a pitch-black darkness instantly descended upon the beautiful waves. The subtle, cool scent that had filled his nasal cavity had now turned into an acrid smell of burning.

“Hmph, oh…”

Lee Sehwa, Sehwa. The man’s voice calling him was distant.

Blinding white light, as if it wouldn’t cast even a shadow, burst forth before his eyes. People screamed, and a middle-aged woman began to sob incessantly. I don’t want to die. Young man, please save me. That tearful plea rendered Sehwa powerless.

And,

Honey.

A familiar voice called him by an impossible endearment.

No. You can’t die.

I’ll make you live just like me.

The man’s sharp words seemed to stab at his brain. Ah, Sehwa couldn’t collect himself amidst the flooding memories.

Why am I? Why am I here, why?

“Don’t lift your head. Don’t lower it too much either, yes. Stay like that.”

Gi Taejeong, who had approached him in a flash, supported the back of Sehwa’s neck and held his chin. His nose had been bleeding profusely for some time. Once he became aware of it, the taste of iron spread through his mouth. But,

“……, Bud…”

Whether he was bleeding or not, none of that mattered.

Bud… What happened to the child? Sehwa fumbled at his stomach with trembling hands. His insides hurt as if he had been beaten, but it was a distinctly different sensation from what he had felt when the child was there. It didn’t matter if his body screamed. Only the child…

“Ah… Bud…”

At the words that escaped him with a gasp, Gi Taejeong froze for a moment, unable to reply. Then he embraced Sehwa with a strong grip. He even cupped his hand and brought it to Sehwa’s mouth as if to make him breathe.

He seemed like someone who had waited a long time for this moment. Yet, he also seemed like someone who had prayed this moment would never come.

“…Do you remember?”

“……”

“Lee Sehwa.”

Gi Taejeong seemed to have many questions. But then, as if realizing his mistake, he didn’t press him further. He simply silently wiped Sehwa’s nose with his sleeve.

Sehwa couldn’t say anything. No, he couldn’t. No sound could resonate from his throat, which felt numb. His tongue felt stiff, making it difficult to form proper sentences. Only the hollow sound of wind cutting through the air echoed in his mouth. It was as if an invisible hand had stolen his voice, a punishment for failing to protect his precious child.