Projection Novel (Completed) - Chapter 48

“That…”

Cheon Sejoo agreed with her words. He thought it was fortunate that Kwon Sejin didn’t know about that day, and fortunate that Sejin wouldn’t have to feel guilty, just as she said. Anyway, it was a secret he couldn’t reveal even if he wanted to now. If Sejin found out, he would surely blame him for missing the opportunity for treatment because of him.

Cheon Sejoo didn’t want to be hated by Sejin…

“Lately, my father keeps appearing in my dreams. He’s sitting on his sickbed, just as he was when he passed away, reaching out to me, but unlike that day, he’s always smiling in the dream. I don’t think I have much time left either.”

Kim Hyunkyung said this, smiling lightly as if it were nothing. Cheon Sejoo couldn’t find words to retort and lowered his head. His insides were churning chaotically. His chest felt hollow, as if someone had ripped out his heart.

“Still, I endured because of you, Director. I wanted to die without leaving debt, but what bothered me most was Sejin feeling guilty. I was afraid he’d struggle, thinking he should have at least tried, but couldn’t. But thanks to you, I got treatment, and now I’m going like this, being cared for so well, so Sejin will be okay, right?”

There was no way he would be okay. When Kim Hyunkyung died, Kwon Sejin would regret it in some way. That was the lot of those left behind. Death meant that those who remained would invariably find things they hadn’t done and regret them.

“Just in case, Director, you too.”

Just as Kim Hyunkyung whispered quietly, drr. The sliding door opened, and the caregiver appeared. Kim Hyunkyung closed her mouth and smiled at Cheon Sejoo. Not today, she whispered, then met the caregiver’s eyes and asked, “Sejin is?”

“He said there’s no room, so he’s sitting in the lounge. Director, you’re here.”

She smiled awkwardly, greeting Cheon Sejoo. Cheon Sejoo withdrew his hand, which Kim Hyunkyung had been holding, and stood up. His mind was loud. He didn’t have the confidence to face Sejin as if nothing had happened. He just wanted to clear his head.

“Please sit here. I’ll just make a phone call and be right back.”

“Ah… Um, yes.”

At his forced smile, the caregiver looked a little troubled before nodding. Cheon Sejoo closed the hospital room door and went out into the hallway. Then, he opened the door to the emergency stairs leading to the rooftop to get some air.

“Ah, I’m sorry…”

He was disoriented. Cheon Sejoo hurriedly descended the stairs, gave a cursory nod to the man whose shoulder he’d bumped, and then ascended upwards. His chest felt so suffocated he couldn’t bear it. He craved the cold wind.

He climbed until the stairs no longer continued, and then an exit appeared. Cheon Sejoo pushed the door open without hesitation and burst outside.

A chilling gale, biting to the bone, wrapped around his entire body. Cheon Sejoo inhaled deeply, letting the cold air reach the depths of his lungs, and looked around. It was the end of the year. Christmas decorations, not yet dismantled, sparkled in the sky garden. Cheon Sejoo’s eyes contorted as he looked at the beautifully shining rooftop.

Even on the day celebrating the birth of Jesus, someone died. Yet, despite that, the families of the deceased didn’t resent this grand celebration. Birth was a blessing, and death was destiny. Once born, one was destined to die.

Still, there was a death that clung to his heart like a rake. The reason Cheon Sejoo couldn’t forget Hyein’s death was that countless regrets had consumed him. While there might be no farewell without regret, Cheon Sejoo had played a decisive role in Hyein’s death, at least in his own mind, to express it and forget it that way.

If he had answered Hyein’s call, she wouldn’t have jumped that day. If he had insisted he had to go home today instead of going into surgery, bowing his head and returning, if he had found Hyein crouching in the hallway and embraced her, Hyein might have confessed everything to Cheon Sejoo that day.

If only I had… The regrets left by those countless hypotheticals were too many, and thus Cheon Sejoo couldn’t forget Hyein, living shackled to the past.

Kim Hyunkyung’s death felt painful to Cheon Sejoo because it also left him with regret. He could have easily solved the misfortune that befell her with what he possessed, and he couldn’t help but regret missing the opportunity to make Sejin happy forever by not doing so.

His head felt like it was splitting. Cheon Sejoo went to the smoking area in the rooftop garden, where there was a snowman figure, and pulled out a cigarette. He slowly lit it and inhaled the smoke. The smell of burning, spreading deep within his body, seemed to represent his inner turmoil.

It was when his lit cigarette had almost burned down to the end that Sejin appeared before him. The headache grew clearer, more distinct, and his head throbbed as if someone were gripping and shaking it.

“Cheon Sejoo.”

A low voice permeated his ears. Hearing the familiar sound, his headache seemed to subside. Cheon Sejoo, who had been standing, staring at the ground, raised his head to look at Sejin. Sejin, who had said he’d be in the lounge, stood before him in short sleeves, without a coat. Cheon Sejoo frowned, gently chiding him.

“Why aren’t you wearing a coat? You’ll catch a cold.”

Cheon Sejoo said this, taking off his suit jacket. A biting, skin-piercing cold wind swept past his neck, but that wasn’t important. He placed the jacket over Sejin’s shoulders to prevent him from catching a cold. It would look a bit odd, but just as he was about to button it up to make him a little warmer, Sejin suddenly grabbed his hand, which had been moving towards his chest.

“…Did you know that Mom had collapsed?”

As he quietly asked, a sharp pain, like a knife stabbing his head, flared up again. He heard. That’s why Sejin hadn’t returned to the hospital room. With this belated realization, Cheon Sejoo tightly closed and then opened his eyes, raising his gaze. He saw Sejin’s reddened eyes. Sejin looked at Cheon Sejoo with a deeply sunken gaze, asking again.

“Was it that day? The day you went to Hwagak alone?”

“…”

He was speechless. He couldn’t answer. That day, Cheon Sejoo had lied to Sejin, saying he had talked to Kim Hyunkyung about Sejin’s grades. Sejin had doubted him once, but it was Cheon Sejoo who had stung his pride and made him believe his words.

When he didn’t respond, Sejin bit his lip tightly and intensified his gaze. His clenched fists turned white, and soon he opened his mouth, as if trying to hold back tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could have told me…!”

Kwon Sejin resents me.

At that moment, a desire surged deep within him to confess everything. It wasn’t intentional. I wanted to tell you, but your mom asked me not to say anything. He wanted to say that. He wanted to redirect the resentment aimed at him towards Kim Hyunkyung.

But how could he?

How could he dare to hurt him instead, just because he didn’t want to be hated? What right did he have to make Kwon Sejin resent his mother…?

Cheon Sejoo looked at Sejin, his mouth shut. He just wanted Sejin not to cry. He didn’t want him to recall that day and regret it. To achieve that, something was needed to cover the regret.

“Why should I have told you?”

“…What?”

At Cheon Sejoo’s cool question, Sejin’s eyes widened. Looking at him, Cheon Sejoo pressed firmly on one side of his throbbing forehead. In the previous conversation, the fact that Kim Hyunkyung had asked him not to tell Sejin about that day wasn’t mentioned. She had only thanked him for not telling him, so an agitated Sejin wouldn’t think that far. He spoke in a deliberately indifferent voice.

“It’s true your mom collapsed that day. But it was a minor incident back then, and it wasn’t important to me.”

Lying wasn’t difficult. Something more important was in front of him.

“Minor…?”

“It was nothing. Just collapsing while working in the summer.”

Yes. I’d rather you hate me. Don’t resent her…

“How, how can you say such a thing?”

And as Cheon Sejoo had wished, a trembling gaze soon turned towards him. Sejin, with tear-filled eyes, clenched his fists and glared at Cheon Sejoo. His expression showed that he couldn’t believe Cheon Sejoo was saying such things to him.

That belief was both welcome and heavy. Cheon Sejoo, with a cold expression, drove the nail in.

“Why blame me for something like this? I didn’t know this would happen either. It’s in the past, just let it go.”

“You… how could you…”

Sejin couldn’t continue, closing his mouth. Tears, a chaotic mix of anger and betrayal, thoroughly soaked his cheeks. His face turned pale.

The moment he saw that, the impulse to tell him the truth surged again. But Cheon Sejoo gritted his teeth and endured.

If he confessed the truth, the weight of Sejin’s resentment towards him would lighten a little. But resentment was a feeling that never disappeared. Sejin would inevitably resent Kim Hyunkyung more, by the same weight that was lifted from him. He would resent her for not telling him earlier, for not giving him the chance to protect her.

But Kim Hyunkyung was a dying person. Cheon Sejoo wished that when she passed away, Sejin would not harbor even a trace of resentment towards her. That negative emotion would gnaw at Sejin, who would be left alone, for a very long time. Cheon Sejoo didn’t want Sejin to experience what he had gone through.

In contrast, what was he? Just someone who had briefly stayed by Sejin’s side, a fleeting guardian whose end was fixed, merely passing through his life. Even if Sejin was hurt by today’s events, it would only be temporary pain. If Sejin had to resent one of them, him or Kim Hyunkyung, it had to be him.

Cheon Sejoo clenched his fists to resist the urge to wipe Sejin’s tears. Glaring at him, Sejin, with a pale face, clutched the edge of Cheon Sejoo’s jacket. With trembling hands, he pulled it down and tossed it away as if discarding it.

“I don’t… need this…”

His frail voice crumbled. Sejin turned his back, facing away from Cheon Sejoo. Cheon Sejoo clutched the jacket, which still faintly held Sejin’s warmth. He stood motionless, like a dead man, watching Sejin’s retreating figure.

Everything was overwhelming. Kim Hyunkyung’s dying, Sejin’s pain, his resentment towards him… He even felt like letting go of everything right then. But he couldn’t.

He knew this resentment would be temporary. In the end, Kwon Sejin had only him to lean on, and he would return to his embrace before long. To hold such a Sejin, he had to endure to the end. He had to stand firm, so that no one would know he was wavering.

Cheon Sejoo moved his feet with difficulty. His entire body felt stiff from the bitter winter wind, but with the thought that he had to go back to Sejin, he closed the rooftop door and went inside. Just as he was about to head back to Kim Hyunkyung’s hospital room—

“Cheon Sejoo!”

A figure, emerging from somewhere, grabbed Cheon Sejoo by the collar. Thud. He hit his back against the wall without resistance, staring blankly ahead. A man, somehow familiar yet unfamiliar, stood before him. Cheon Sejoo blinked, unable to recognize the person at once.

“How dare you come here, you criminal bastard!”

The sudden accusing voice brought him back to his senses. Only then did Cheon Sejoo gaze at the man in front of him with a slightly clearer vision.

“Don’t you have any conscience? Can you even face your colleagues?!”

A white doctor’s gown hung over the hand gripping his collar. Lee Jung-oh. Seeing the name embroidered on it, Cheon Sejoo finally remembered exactly who he was. He was a person lingering in his mind. A colleague he wasn’t particularly close with. And the one who had visited him in the detention center, spitting venomous words telling him never to return to the hospital.

“You bastard who tried to kill someone, aren’t you ashamed? Why are you here?!”

His colleague was in an extremely agitated state. His sharp accusations flew and struck his chest. The voice, full of hostility, echoed loudly up the stairwell. His head felt like it would split. But Cheon Sejoo couldn’t even think of pushing him away, only smiled weakly.

“You should have gone to another hospital! Even if you were dying, you should have gone somewhere else! What did we hear after you left?! What did the patients say?! How dare you come here?!”

Lee Jung-oh had always harbored an inferiority complex towards him. The memories of being attacked by him were not just one or two, so these accusations weren’t unfamiliar, yet he still felt a sense of emptiness. He had told Hayeoreum, who was worried, that he was fine, but the presence of someone who appeared at such a moment, deliberately reminding him of who he was, was utterly ridiculous.

I know. I know… Cheon Sejoo hadn’t wanted to come here either. If the sick person had been him instead of Kim Hyunkyung, he would never have set foot here.

But what could he do? With Sejin making such an expression, Cheon Sejoo could only think of taking her to the best medical team he knew.

Now, there were no regrets. He had even thought that something like this would happen someday. But did it have to be now? He had been coming and going from the hospital for months, did it have to be now…?

Cheon Sejoo closed his eyes tightly, covering his ears. The accusations against him poured over his entire body. Words that would normally have meant nothing felt heavy today. He felt like he was suffocating to death…

On the morning of December 29th, Cheon Sejoo spoke with Shin Gyoyeon for a long time about what would happen after Kang Junmyeon returned to Korea. Various plans were discussed, but because Shin Gyoyeon wanted to interrogate him directly, Cheon Sejoo and the processing team planned to abduct him on January 4th, immediately upon his return home.

Since he was a long-time member of the organization and someone who had formed his own faction, considerable resistance was expected. Therefore, Cheon Sejoo left the CEO’s office after confirming the plan multiple times with Shin Gyoyeon and Chae Beomjun.

It was the moment he took out his phone to check it, having set it to silent. A call was coming from the caregiver, Kim Seonhee. With the numerous missed calls from her also displayed, Cheon Sejoo instinctively knew that Kim Hyunkyung had passed away.

“…Yes.”

Cheon Sejoo pressed the call button, his voice strained. In response to his reply, the caregiver spoke softly.

Ah, Director. I thought I should contact you…

“…I’ll be there soon.”

No other words were needed. Cheon Sejoo said this and got into the elevator. He ran a dry palm over his face. His throat was constricted. It was hard to breathe. Nevertheless, he showed no outward emotion, went down to the basement, and found the vehicle he used for work.

“Was the discussion productive?”

Seonhyuk, who was waiting in the driver’s seat, turned to Cheon Sejoo and asked. Now they had to go over the plan. Reconfirm the route from the airport to the workshop once more, and check escape routes in case of an unforeseen event.

However, at this moment, he couldn’t leave Sejin alone. His mind was filled only with thoughts of Sejin, who must be crying. Cheon Sejoo got into the passenger seat, sighed, ran his hands through his hair, and finally turned to Seonhyuk. He disliked the fact that he had to disappoint the person who looked at him with infinite trust, but he had no choice.

“Seonhyuk.”

“Yes, Director.”

“Can you go alone?”

At his sudden question, Moon Seonhyuk, who was about to start the car and drive off, raised an eyebrow. Then, he glanced at Cheon Sejoo, nodded, and asked.

“Yes. I can. Leave it to me. Did the CEO give you another task?”

Checking the readiness before an operation had always been Cheon Sejoo’s responsibility. Although he had been taking Moon Seonhyuk with him for a year, to practice Seok Yoonhyung’s words that the fewer people who knew important plans, the better, Cheon Sejoo had always confirmed the most critical elements alone.

It was quite a pleasant feeling for Cheon Sejoo to entrust him with the task. Moon Seonhyuk strained his face, which was about to break into a smile, and asked him. However, the answer he received was different from what Seonhyuk had expected.

“No, I think I need to go to the funeral home.”

“…”

Seonhyuk’s left eyebrow, not visible to Cheon Sejoo, subtly furrowed. Moon Seonhyuk was one of the few people who knew that Kim Hyunkyung was on her last legs. Seonhyuk was also the only one who knew that Cheon Sejoo was covering her medical expenses because of Sejin.

It wasn’t like Cheon Sejoo. Ever since meeting Kwon Sejin, Cheon Sejoo kept showing a side that Moon Seonhyuk didn’t recognize. He found it disagreeable, but Moon Seonhyuk said nothing. He had told him he would send the child away once he became an adult, so he thought it wouldn’t be long now. New Year’s was in two days, and then Kwon Sejin would turn twenty. Once Kwon Sejin left, Cheon Sejoo wouldn’t act unlike himself anymore.

“I will take care of everything meticulously. Don’t worry and go.”

“…Thank you.”

Cheon Sejoo, who had been staring at Seonhyuk, suddenly smiled faintly and said that. Cheon Sejoo reached out and gently ruffled Seonhyuk’s hair, which was a head taller than him, and then crossed his arms. He closed his eyes tightly, taking a brief rest in silence.

Seonhyuk dropped Cheon Sejoo off below his apartment, and Cheon Sejoo went up to his home, put on a suit, and took out the ironing board. Black suits worn for mourning could be rented at the funeral home, but he thought there wouldn’t be a size that fit Sejin perfectly, so he ironed and packed his own suit jacket and pants.

While he was on his way to the hospital, a call came from the caregiver. She said she was tidying up the hospital room and heading down to the funeral home. He heard the location of the wake from her and hung up.

When he parked his car in the funeral home parking lot, which was attached to the hospital, and got out, sleet was falling from the gray sky. It was better than rain, but the damp, heavy air brought back memories of that day. Cheon Sejoo ignored the siren blaring in his ears and continued walking.

Deceased Kim Hyunkyung Chief Mourner Kwon Sejin (Son)

In Room 3, the names of Kim Hyunkyung and Sejin appeared on the panel in front of the mourning hall. The Chinese characters attached to Kim Hyunkyung’s name felt awkward. Just two days ago, the person who had held his hand and conversed with him was now gone from this world. Cheon Sejoo, his face devoid of expression, headed towards the funeral restaurant where voices could be heard.

He had asked the caregiver, Kim Seonhee, to stay until the funeral was over, so she was arranging the newly arrived food with the funeral assistants. Kim Seonhee, who was transferring side dishes to plates and covering them with cling wrap, saw Cheon Sejoo and greeted him.

“Director, you’re here?”

“Yes, you’ve worked hard. Where’s Sejin?”

“He’s in the inner room… but, well.”

Kim Seonhee trailed off, her eyebrows furrowed. It was easy to guess what Sejin’s state would be without even seeing him. Cheon Sejoo knew that no consolation would work for him, but he couldn’t leave the mourning hall empty like that, so he told her to prepare only a little food and started walking.

Seeing the empty chief mourner’s seat, where Sejin wasn’t sitting, Cheon Sejoo took off his shoes and stepped onto the wooden floor. The mourning hall, freshly decorated with flowers, was empty. There was no incense burning in the censer, nor chrysanthemums placed on the altar. Kim Hyunkyung’s photo, which he seemed to have seen on Sejin’s phone once, was placed as the portrait. In the photo, she was smiling brightly.

Cheon Sejoo gazed at her for a moment, then bowed twice and stood up. After lighting the first incense and placing a chrysanthemum, he picked up the suit bag leaning against the wall and opened the door to the family room inside the mourning hall.

The lights were off. A slender ray of light from the mourning hall illuminated the figure crouched against the wall. Sejin was silently weeping, hugging his knees like a child, his head resting against the wall. The tears streaming down his cheeks instantly felt like they were constricting Cheon Sejoo’s throat. In the suffocating sorrow, Cheon Sejoo forced himself to move.

“Why are you like this?”

“…”

Sejin looked up at him without blinking. His reddened, swollen eyes were drenched. The awkwardly worn suit was far too short for Sejin. Seeing his wrists and ankles exposed, Cheon Sejoo set down what he had brought beside him. Sejin’s expression twisted in pain. He slowly opened his mouth.

“Why… are you here?”

Cheon Sejoo didn’t answer the thorny question. Sejin quietly sobbed, then asked him again.

“It’s nothing, so why come all the way here…?”

“…”

He could tell how deeply the argument from two days ago had wounded Sejin. His heart felt like it was tearing, but Cheon Sejoo forced himself to ignore him. He struggled to swallow the emotions that welled up. After doing so several times, his calm voice finally managed, reached Sejin.

“Get up. You need to see your mother off.”