Projection Novel (Completed) - Chapter 30

When Hyein started to toddle and stumbled, Cheon Sejoo meticulously tidied her surroundings as if he would remove anything that blocked her path. When she entered daycare, he made sure to show his face there every day and asked the teachers to take good care of Hyein.

When she became an elementary school student and told Cheon Sejoo that she wanted him to become a doctor, he began studying late into the night to become the best doctor in Korea. Through such diligent effort, Cheon Sejoo entered Korea University Medical School, which had the highest admission standards in Korea.

Everything he had achieved since he was eight years old was for Hyein. He wanted to be a reliable family member for Hyein, he didn’t want her to experience the same shabbiness he had felt, and he wanted to give her everything without lack, even if it was later. Cheon Sejoo walked forward, holding Hyein’s hand, without realizing how she was falling apart a step behind him, trusting only the warmth of the hand he held and believing she was happy.

So when Hyein died, Cheon Sejoo’s world also collapsed. His life lost its purpose, and his time stopped then and there. His shell continued to breathe and move, seemingly fine, but Cheon Sejoo never felt alive after that day.

He felt trapped in a photograph. His life remained at the moment he faced Cheon Hyein’s death, on that rainy day. In that photograph, there was no past, no future.

But unlike him, everyone else’s lives flowed smoothly. Yeoreum, who was Cheon Sejoo’s classmate, completed her long residency and became an orthopedic specialist, opening her own clinic. His other classmates were probably the same. Their lives had never stopped.

Cheon Sejoo felt a profound bitterness at that obvious truth. He felt a deep sense of emptiness at the fact that only he, and only he, had remained in the past, letting five long years slip by. And at the same time, Cheon Sejoo despised himself for regretting the time that had passed. Hyein died because of me, and she’ll be forever eighteen. Do I even have the right to regret?

The answer was unknown. Only a suffocating feeling remained.

The call from Yeoreum came almost a month after their reunion. It seemed Yeoreum had decided to forgive his despicable self. Cheon Sejoo felt relieved, yet faintly guilty, at the message that casually asked how he was, as if nothing had happened. So, when he found himself sitting face-to-face with Ha Yeoreum for a meal after five years, Cheon Sejoo was the first to say he was sorry.

“It’s too late. I won’t accept it. I’ll never forgive you.”

Yeoreum snorted and said that. Now, even if he apologized, even if she said, “Alright, I understand how you feel,” nothing would change.

Ha Yeoreum now knew that Cheon Sejoo was someone who could disappear from her life at any time. She didn’t know why he had vanished like that, but she didn’t ask, guessing there must have been a good reason.

So, she thought it was meaningless to talk about the past and kept her words few. However, saying she couldn’t forgive Cheon Sejoo was because she wanted him to carry that guilt for a long time. She hoped that if he felt sorry, he might think twice before cutting off contact again next time.

“Seeing your face, I can tell you’ve been doing alright. Still annoyingly handsome. And still unintentionally making women cry with that face, how polite of you.”

Yeoreum said that to Cheon Sejoo. Instead of asking how he had been, she used the words “still the same” to imply her relief that he seemed okay. Cheon Sejoo smiled awkwardly and replied, “You’re the same too,” and then got scolded by Yeoreum. She even hit his shoulder, feigning anger, saying, “How dare you say something like that when I’ve gotten so pretty after my double eyelid surgery?”

The time spent with Yeoreum was more enjoyable than he had expected. She didn’t bring up the past, and so, contrary to his worries, Cheon Sejoo was able to enjoy the meal with a light heart and return home.

When he returned, Sejin was waiting. Kwon Sejin, who had received a shocking 778 grade on his March mock exam, was currently studying hard late into the night, fuming at Cheon Sejoo’s scolding about whether he was missing something in his head. Of course, the shameless Sejin didn’t forget to use that as an excuse to demand night shift pay.

Cheon Sejoo entered the house and asked in a slow voice,

“You haven’t slept yet?”

It was almost 11 PM, and the living room light was still brightly on. Cheon Sejoo, who was slightly tipsy, quietly chuckled as he saw the small head bent over problems, not turning around, as if he hadn’t heard him.

It felt like just yesterday Sejin couldn’t solve a single problem and would procrastinate, but now he was showing quite a bit of concentration. The sight of the kid who used to shout “Why do I have to study?” Working hard was endearing. Cheon Sejoo resisted the urge to hug him tightly from behind and headed to the kitchen.

He took off his jacket and hung it on a chair, then pulled out bottled water to wet his dry mouth. He felt a bit more alive now. Keeping pace with Ha Yeoreum, who was even more of a heavy drinker, he had over-imbibed. Feeling dizzy, Cheon Sejoo thought about smoking a cigarette but put down the lighter, feeling it would just make him drunker. Then, he headed to the living room to help Sejin with his studies, even if just a little, before going to bed.

“Kwon Sejin.”

At the slowly uttered name, Sejin finally turned his head. His slightly blank gaze swept over Cheon Sejoo’s gently relaxed face.

“Where have you gotten to? Let me see.”

“…”

Cheon Sejoo stumbled over and slumped to the floor, leaning his head towards Sejin. It was late April, and Sejin looked at him with displeased eyes; Cheon Sejoo had gone out, skipped dinner, and returned smelling of a sweet, spring-like perfume. Sejin, who was leaning against the sofa holding a mechanical pencil, moved his body sideways, avoiding Cheon Sejoo approaching him. The scent, mixed with the bitter smell of red wine, made him subtly uncomfortable. For some reason, he felt annoyed.

“You smell like alcohol. Get away from me.”

Ignoring Sejin’s words, Cheon Sejoo leaned against him and examined the textbook. The English textbook was a complete mess. Sejin tried to cover it with his hand, but Cheon Sejoo was a step faster. He frowned and asked,

“You… still don’t understand past participles?”

The nagging was about to begin. Cheon Sejoo was usually talkative when it came to studies and academics, but even more so when he drank. He had a talent for irritating people. Sejin, who didn’t want to listen to a drunkard’s sermon, pushed Cheon Sejoo in annoyance.

“Ah, just go away!” 

“What exactly is in your head…”

Of course, he didn’t budge. Although Sejin had grown a bit taller, with only a 5-6cm difference now, Sejin, whose body was thin without much muscle, couldn’t overpower Cheon Sejoo. Cheon Sejoo clicked his tongue and reached an arm over Sejin’s head. He ruffled Sejin’s soft hair, placing his hand on the crown of his head. A fragrant shampoo scent wafted from him. He looked down at Sejin, who was huffing, his face flushed red.

The kid, who used to be like a disobedient troublemaker, had been strangely well-behaved lately. His diligence in studying, cleaning, cooking—everything he did diligently—was endearing. Cheon Sejoo silently smiled as he scrutinized Sejin’s face, which had grown considerably since he first saw him.

Today, Cheon Sejoo had heard news about his classmates from Yeoreum. Among them were friends who had already married and become fathers, friends who had left the medical field due to sudden accidents, and friends who had moved their lives overseas. Listening to these stories, Cheon Sejoo reflected on how his own life had changed over the past five years.

Then, things he hadn’t noticed before came into view.

Five years ago, Shin Gyoyeon had entrusted Cheon Sejoo to Seok Yoonhyung at the DG headquarters under the pretext of ‘training.’ Under Seok Yoonhyung, Chairman Shin Gyeong-ju’s enforcer, Cheon Sejoo suffered all sorts of indignities. While hospitals also had a strong hierarchical atmosphere, this place couldn’t even be compared. Slapping him if he didn’t listen was common, and even a small mistake would earn him all kinds of humiliating words and accusations.

Cheon Sejoo learned to fight, getting stabbed and cut by his knife, and he also learned how to handle people who had lived at the bottom of society. Those who had been marginalized by society since childhood and lived by the law of the jungle could only be controlled by power and authority. The people within the organization were beasts that could not be controlled by appeasement or care. To become the person who could rise above them, as Shin Gyoyeon expected, Cheon Sejoo learned to bend gently before breaking, and he also learned to inflate himself in front of others.

The members of the Enforcement Team he was in charge of had mostly gone through similar processes. Goo Hae-ung, Seo Jinyoung, and Yoon Cheol-ju all had a history of being beaten bloody by Cheon Sejoo. Only Moon Seonhyuk had bowed his head to Cheon Sejoo before he even acted. Seonhyuk never showed any rebellion when Cheon Sejoo pushed him aside and took over the head of the Enforcement Team.

In the process of adapting to the organization, Cheon Sejoo had changed a lot. He hadn’t known about it until now. Cheon Sejoo had thought he was simply acting out the ideal person Shin Gyoyeon wanted him to be, but now, thinking about it, that wasn’t it. He was changing. Although it wasn’t the direction he had wanted, he was definitely flowing somewhere.

Time was fair. It spared no one. Therefore, Cheon Sejoo wasn’t the only one who had changed.

Cheon Sejoo looked at Sejin, who was glaring at him with sharp eyes. At the same time, he remembered the day he first saw him. That day, in that hallway, Cheon Sejoo had thought Sejin was even smaller than Hyein. It was because he looked so pitiful, huddled with his guard up, glaring at him. But Sejin, upon experiencing him, was not so fragile. Rather, he was stronger, tougher, and more resilient than anyone.

“How tall are you now?” 

“176 [cm].”

At Cheon Sejoo’s sudden question, Sejin answered without hesitation. He had grown 8 cm in just six months. And he wasn’t just taller; Sejin had truly grown in many ways.

His slender face, which could easily have been mistaken for a girl’s, still had delicate features, but it was now undeniably masculine, and his small physique, which he had mistaken for a child’s, was now quite sturdy. Of course, compared to Cheon Sejoo, he was still thin and small, but just by looking at his widening shoulders and equally large hands and feet, it was clear that Sejin’s growth wouldn’t stop there.

“You’ve grown a lot…”

At his murmured words, Sejin gazed at Cheon Sejoo with a clear stare. Cheon Sejoo somehow felt that even his gaze had changed. Sejin no longer regarded him as an enemy. He wasn’t wary. Their relationship was also endlessly changing.

Sejin’s time also flowed relentlessly. Even if it was only a brief companionship, the very fact that he could witness Kwon Sejin’s growth right beside him seemed to comfort Cheon Sejoo. The corners of his mouth softened.

“My sister too…”

He had had too much to drink. Words that shouldn’t have been spoken slipped out. But Cheon Sejoo couldn’t take them back and laughed.

It wasn’t Cheon Sejoo’s life that had stopped. It was Cheon Hyein’s life that had been preserved like a single photograph. For her, there was no past, no future. Cheon Sejoo had only been looking at her last photograph.

“I wish she could have grown up like you…”

Excessive drinking loosened the latch on his heart, letting out what had been stagnant. Cheon Sejoo felt his chest heave and thought,

If only I had. If only I had died instead. If that had happened, he wouldn’t have disappointed Hyein by living like this, nor would he have prolonged a life that failed to meet her expectations. The thought that Cheon Hyein would have lived a more meaningful life than he had, if she were alive, wouldn’t leave his mind. Cheon Sejoo couldn’t help the crushing guilt in his head and bowed his head.

His neat forehead rested on Sejin’s shoulder. The shoulder he had thought was small was unexpectedly firm and broad. He could lean on it for a moment. Smelling the warm scent emanating from him, Cheon Sejoo gently closed his eyes. He murmured, as if proud,

“You’ve grown so much, our Sejin…” 

“…”

With those words, silence descended upon the surroundings. Sejin held his breath, listening to Cheon Sejoo’s gentle breathing. A flush appeared on his pale face, and he froze, cheeks red and not knowing what to do.

He should have pushed Cheon Sejoo away, saying, “What kind of drunken rambling is this? Go to sleep,” but his body wouldn’t move. Why was this happening? His shoulder, where Cheon Sejoo’s forehead rested, felt like it was on fire. But he couldn’t tell if Cheon Sejoo was hot or if he himself was.

“Cheon Sejoo.”

His name, spoken in three syllables, trembled faintly. Sejin felt his heart pound strangely and raised his arm. The hand resting on Cheon Sejoo’s back, who had fallen asleep as if collapsing, soon slid down and wrapped around his waist. Pulling him closer so that Cheon Sejoo could lean fully on him, Sejin swallowed dryly.

It was a strange feeling. Sejin didn’t know where this desire came from, this wish for this moment to last forever.