Projection Novel (Completed) - Chapter 49

Sejin shook his head. Tears dripped down his face every time he closed and opened his eyes. Cheon Sejoo pretended not to notice his grief soaking the floor, took Sejin’s arm, and helped him stand up. His staggering body lifted lightly.

“Kwon Sejin. You’re the only one who can keep her company. Don’t leave your mom alone.”

Sejin finally let out a ragged breath at the stern reprimand. Without even thinking to wipe away the tears that streamed down his face unchecked, Sejin leaned his forehead against Cheon Sejoo’s shoulder. His sorrow-laced breaths dampened Seju’s neck.

“I don’t want to go out…”

“You have to go out.”

“I don’t want to…”

His mournful voice constricted Seju’s throat. No longer able to hold back, he raised his arm and embraced Sejin’s back. During the two months Kim Hyunkyung had been in the intensive care unit, Sejin had lost weight. As Seju placed his hand on Sejin’s back, devoid of any excess flesh, and stroked it, Sejin’s protruding spine grazed his fingers. Cheon Sejoo hugged the pitiable Sejin tightly and buried his lips in Sejin’s bowed hair.

“Sejin-ah, Sejin-ah…”

A gentle voice soothed Sejin. He softly comforted Sejin, who was struggling to burrow into his embrace and shedding tears. Cry if you want to cry. But you have to go out someday. You have to protect your place. In his comforting words, Sejin poured out his grief for a long time.

“Why did my mom have to die?”

His tear-soaked voice held immense resentment. Something felt wrong. There was someone else who should have died, so why did a kind and innocent person like his mother have to suffer so much and leave this world? Sejin simply couldn’t understand.

“What did we do wrong…?”

Sejin had planned to go to the factory after graduating high school and finishing his military service, working 18 hours a day to provide a comfortable life for his mother. But she passed away two days before his adulthood. She had never enjoyed anything good in her life, only worked, trapped in the mountains due to the debt Kwon Yongbeom had left behind…

Sejin felt like he was going crazy with pity for his mother’s life. She had given birth to him at a young age and raised him so well without giving up, but she had left without ever receiving any reward from him. He felt so wronged he thought he would die.

But who should he resent? He didn’t even know where Kwon Yongbeom was, and the only one left beside him was the man who had shown him unfamiliar affection. Sejin couldn’t shake off the resentment filling his heart and instead burst into tears.

It was only Cheon Sejoo. Only he reached out to Sejin, who was standing on the edge of a cliff. In that uniqueness, any lingering betrayal and sorrow he felt towards Seju melted away like snow. Sejin leaned into the warmth Seju offered, filling the emptiness inside him with Seju’s tenderness.

A rough hand patted Sejin. One by one, as he matched his breath with Seju’s, Sejin slowly regained his composure. Finally, his sobbing subsided, and Sejin, with a pale face, pulled away from Cheon Sejoo. Then, feeling a pang of regret as Seju’s scent moved away, he wrapped his arms around Seju’s waist once more, leaning his cheek against his shoulder. Cheon Sejoo’s pale neck and two small moles lay before his eyes. Sejin stared blankly at them and opened his chapped lips.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“……”

He was like a lost child searching for a path. Cheon Sejoo hugged Sejin tightly, then turned his head, buried his lips in Sejin’s hair, and explained in a gentle voice.

“You need to contact the people your mother knew and sit as the chief mourner to greet guests. Do you know their contact information?”

“…No. Mom doesn’t have a phone…”

Sejin rubbed his cheek against Seju’s shoulder like a child. Cheon Sejoo thought for a moment and then remembered that her phone had been taken when she entered Hwagak. After coming to the hospital, Sejin had been with her for a while, and then a caregiver had been there, so no one had looked for the phone and its existence had been forgotten. It was probably being kept at Shinsa Capital. He needed to contact Kim Donggil and tell him to bring it.

“I’ll have them bring the phone. You go out and sit down.”

“…You? Where will you be?”

As Seju said this while pulling Sejin away, Sejin lifted his head and asked. Transparent, glassy eyes were fixed on Cheon Sejoo from close by. Sejin met his gaze, grasped his wrist, and pleaded in a trembling voice.

“Can’t you stay by my side too…?”

“Your place is only for the chief mourner…”

“I don’t want to be alone…”

Sejin’s state was unstable. Unable to do anything about Sejin, who was trembling as if he would cry again, Cheon Sejoo finally nodded. It would be better for someone to stay by the side of a child with no relatives than for him to sit alone as the chief mourner. He patted Sejin’s shoulder.

“Alright. Then change into these clothes and go out. I’ll make a call and come in.”

Cheon Sejoo opened the suitcase he had placed on the floor and took out a new jacket for Sejin. Thanks to his weight loss, Cheon Sejoo’s suit jacket fit him very well. It was fortunate that it was a classic design. He handed the pants to Sejin and then left the room. He left the funeral hall and headed to the outdoor smoking area, calling Kim Donggil.

As always, Kim Donggil answered the phone before it even rang properly.

– Yes, Hyung-nim! How have you been? What’s up?

“Hey, who has the debtors’ phones?”

– Phones? Debtors? Ah, the debtors’ stuff?

Kim Donggil cleared his throat, hmmm, at Cheon Sejoo’s words, which came without a greeting. He seemed to think for a moment, then groaned and called Cheon Sejoo’s name.

– Hyung-nim, it’s probably somewhere here. That, that, Ms. Kim Hyunjeong? You’re looking for her phone, right?

“Kim Hyunkyung.”

– Ah, yes. Right, originally, if a debtor repays their debt, we give them a repayment confirmation along with their phone. But last time, Hyung-nim called and sent the money, so Kim Hyunkyung’s file is still being kept in the office. Should I bring that too?

Repayment confirmation. It wasn’t something to show Sejin. However, he had to check it at least once, so Cheon Sejoo let out a short sigh and replied.

“Do whatever you want with that, just bring the phone quickly. If there’s a charger, bring one of those too.”

– Yes, where should I go? I’ll leave right away.

“Here…”

Cheon Sejoo, who had been talking with a cigarette in his mouth, suddenly fell silent. He calmly looked around with subdued eyes, then responded in a low voice.

“Korea University Hospital Funeral Hall.”

– Oh, someone must have died. Understood, I’ll be right there.

Kim Donggil’s voice disappeared, and the lukewarm screen of the phone turned off. Cheon Sejoo stood there silently, looking down at the bare floor, then soon opened the screen again and went to his messages.

He sent the news of Kim Hyunkyung’s passing to Han Jiwon. Han Jiwon, who had visited Kim Hyunkyung a few times on her days off, immediately called Cheon Sejoo and burst into tears.

– Perhaps, back then… Even when she said she was on a diet, maybe she was already sick then…

Cheon Sejoo wasn’t the only one feeling guilty about Kim Hyunkyung’s death. Han Jiwon was also guilty of overlooking the fact that she had collapsed. Cheon Sejoo swallowed a bitter smile and denied her words.

“No, Manager, you know how quickly pancreatic cancer progresses. She would have been fine then. And it’s a cancer that’s hard to detect early anyway. Even if she had thought something was wrong and gone to the hospital then, they wouldn’t have found it. Don’t worry about it. Ms. Kim Hyunkyung also told you not to think that way, so just forget about it. It’s not your fault, Manager.”

– Is that so…?

Han Jiwon’s voice was somber. Cheon Sejoo realized that she, like him, wouldn’t be able to completely erase her lingering regrets. But there was nothing more he could do. Those left behind after the death of a loved one had to swallow and digest the regrets thrown their way.

Han Jiwon said she would stop by with the staff after Hwagak’s business hours ended and then hung up. Cheon Sejoo stood there, slowly smoking a cigarette, reflecting on the past.

He didn’t remember much about Hyerin’s funeral, but he knew all the procedures because he had helped a friend whose father had passed away when he was in college. The coffin to hold the deceased, the burial shroud. Everything costs money. Cheon Sejoo didn’t want Sejin to worry about money when sending off Kim Hyunkyung, so he stopped by the funeral home office before returning to the mourning hall. There, he ordered the necessary items beforehand so Sejin wouldn’t have to worry.

After that, when he returned to the mourning hall, Sejin, dressed in the suit he had brought, was sitting alone in the chief mourner’s seat. The tears were gone, but with a face still full of sorrow, Sejin looked pitiful, sitting there staring only at the floor. Cheon Sejoo approached Sejin and helped him stand up.

“Did you eat?”

“I don’t have an appetite…”

“Eat anyway. Come here.”

Sejin got up weakly, as if he didn’t have the energy to argue. Led by Cheon Sejoo’s hand, they went to the dining area where Kim Sunhee and women who had come to help were quietly chatting. Upon seeing them, Kim Sunhee got up and led Sejin to an inner seat.

“Yes, you have to eat. That way, your mother won’t worry either. Director, you should eat too. I’ll bring the food.”

Kim Sunhee patted Sejin’s shoulder and went straight to the kitchen. From there, she returned with a generous amount of warm spicy beef soup, rice, and various dishes including pancake. She set the meal on the table, and Cheon Sejoo placed a spoon in Sejin’s hand, who was unwilling to move.

“Eat.”

“……”

Sejin nodded blankly and scooped up some rice. As soon as he filled his mouth with rice, he stopped moving. With bulging cheeks, Sejin bowed his head and tears dripped down. Cheon Sejoo could guess what he was thinking.

Mom died, but can I really be doing this? Can I just eat rice to survive on my own? He must be thinking that.

It was a natural thought when a very close person died. Those left behind feel great distress that the person who occupied a part of their life is now dead and gone, yet the world continues on as if nothing happened. Eventually, they feel as if they are wrong for being a part of the world that rolls on unaffected, and they sink into an uncontrollable depression.

Cheon Sejoo had experienced it too. Hyerin was dead and gone, and he couldn’t understand how he could still be alive and well. The world felt out of alignment. …But all of that was just a fleeting emotion.

“You have to eat. That way you can live.”

Cheon Sejoo said calmly and placed side dishes on his rice bowl. He had to live. Because he was alive, he had to continue. That was life.

“Yes, you too…”

Sejin wiped away his tears a moment later and said so. With a face swollen from crying, he picked up side dishes with chopsticks and placed them on Cheon Sejoo’s rice bowl. Cheon Sejoo accepted it silently. He, too, felt like sand was chewing in his mouth, but he didn’t show it.

After finishing the meal, there was nothing to do. Since no one had been contacted yet, Sejin was curled up lonely in the chief mourner’s seat. He looked deeply absorbed in thought. Cheon Sejoo, who had been silently guarding his side, received a message from Kim Donggil saying he had arrived and got up.

“I’ll be out for a bit.”

“Where are you going?”

Sejin’s eyebrows drooped into an inverted V-shape, and he grabbed Seju’s wrist. Cheon Sejoo said he would bring the phone and gently removed Sejin’s hand. He softly stroked Sejin’s hair to tidy it and then left the spot.

As soon as he came out of the mourning hall, he ran into Kim Donggil. Kim Donggil, dressed in a black suit, seemed to have come looking for him from the entrance to the inside, stroking his shiny bald head and looking around.

“Oh, Hyung-nim.”

Upon seeing him, Kim Donggil smiled broadly and approached. Cheon Sejoo raised an eyebrow, then, noticing Sejin’s gaze from the side, immediately moved his body. He grabbed Kim Donggil’s neck from behind, pushing him towards the exit to prevent Sejin and Kim Donggil from meeting. Kim Donggil grumbled resentfully.

“It seems Kim Hyunkyung-ssi died. Ah, why are you like this? It seems there are no guests, so even I could at least bow once…”

“Shut up and come out.”

Cheon Sejoo snarled fiercely and dragged Kim Donggil out of the funeral hall. Kim Donggil grumbled about his neatly ironed suit getting wrinkled, then, receiving Seju’s cold stare, he soon rummaged in his pocket and pulled out an old phone and a charger.

“Here it is. I charged it a bit in the car on the way, but the battery isn’t full.”

“Give it to me. Now go.”

“Ah, you’ll be lonely if there are no guests.”

“Get lost.”

Cheon Sejoo ruthlessly drove Kim Donggil away. Leaving Kim Donggil, who was pouting unpleasantly, behind, he turned on Kim Hyunkyung’s phone. The phone’s wallpaper was a selfie of her and Sejin, cheek to cheek. Sejin, who looked much younger than when they first met, as if the photo was taken years ago, was frowning with a grumpy expression. Cheon Sejoo gently traced Sejin’s characteristically grumpy face with his fingertip once, then re-entered the building.

“Sejin-ah.”

When he returned to the mourning hall and called his name, Sejin, who had been leaning against the wall staring into space, turned his head. Cheon Sejoo sat beside him and handed him Kim Hyunkyung’s phone.

“Do you know the names of your mom’s friends, relatives, or acquaintances? Find them in the contacts and send them a message. Just write the location and the time of the departure ceremony.”

“…What’s a departure ceremony?”

Sejin’s transparent eyes turned to Cheon Sejoo. Departure ceremony. Depending on Sejin’s choice, Kim Hyunkyung’s body would have to be moved to a cemetery or crematorium two days later. But what was that? Cheon Sejoo couldn’t bring himself to explain what a departure ceremony was while looking into Sejin’s eyes. He quietly closed his mouth, then took the phone from Sejin’s hand.

“If you don’t know, I’ll write the message. You just pick the numbers from the contacts.”

“Okay…”

Cheon Sejoo manipulated Kim Hyunkyung’s old phone and wrote the message. It wasn’t difficult since he had done it once before. The memories of the last funeral were jumbled, but something remained. The moment he sent his sister’s obituary with his own hands was a memory he would never forget.

In fact, deaths by suicide usually didn’t have funerals, but he had a different reason for holding Hyerin’s funeral. At first, he didn’t know it was suicide. During the funeral, when he was told it was presumed to be a plunge rather than an accidental fall, Cheon Sejoo then realized there was something about her death he didn’t know.

He collected his surfacing memories and returned the phone with the completed message to Sejin. Sejin seemed to understand the meaning of “departure ceremony” upon reading the message he had written. He was silent for a moment, then pressed his lips together and searched through the contacts.

Unlike Sejin, who had no one to call as a friend, Kim Hyunkyung knew many people. After sending messages to the hundred-odd people in her contacts, calls and messages began to arrive shortly after. Among them, some called and wailed, and others asked for her bank account number. On behalf of Sejin, who didn’t know what to do, Cheon Sejoo gave them Sejin’s bank account number and the room number of the funeral hall.

“Kwon Sejin, think carefully.”

Then, when the phone had quieted down a bit, Cheon Sejoo looked directly at Sejin and asked.

“If I stay here, people might misunderstand me as your mom’s lover or new husband. You can’t introduce me as a relative either. Do you still want me to be here? Someone is also needed to receive condolence money at the front. If you’re okay with it, I can.”

“Stay here.”

He didn’t want Kim Hyunkyung to hear any unnecessary words on her way. However, despite the potential for misunderstanding, Sejin was resolute. As if such things didn’t matter, Sejin, with a gloomy face, held his wrist and insisted he stay by his side.

“I want you to be by my side.”

“…Alright.”

He couldn’t refuse that request. Cheon Sejoo nodded, then embraced the pitiful Sejin’s shoulder, kissed his hair, and spoke again.

“Then, if you’re okay with it, I’ll call someone to receive the money at the front. We can’t just entrust it to anyone.”

“Yes…”

Seeing Sejin nod, Cheon Sejoo took out his phone. Seonhyuk was the most reliable, but he was probably still reviewing the plan. Instead of disturbing him, Cheon Sejoo called Seo Jinyoung. He chose Jinyoung because Haewoong might cause an accident due to his anger management issues.

– Yes, Director.

Seo Jinyoung answered the phone before it even rang properly. Cheon Sejoo left Sejin and went into the family room of the mourning hall, speaking as he did.

“Jinyoung-ah, what are you doing?”

– I was eating popcorn with Haewoong in the office… no, we were exercising.

On January 4th, with the big event approaching, Jinyoung and Haewoong were continuously training their bodies. This was in preparation for any unforeseen accidents. But it seemed they weren’t exercising as told, but rather eating snacks and playing. Cheon Sejoo sighed inwardly and called him.

“Seo Jinyoung, stop eating popcorn and come here to do some work.”

– It’s exercise, exercise. What kind of work? Is it dangerous?

“No, come to the funeral hall and receive some condolence money. Do you have a black suit?”

Seo Jinyoung sighed upon hearing “funeral hall.” Although he didn’t know the detailed circumstances, the team members knew that Cheon Sejoo had Sejin with him, and that Sejin’s mother had been hospitalized a few months ago. The quick-witted Seo Jinyoung agreed without asking further questions.

– Yes, I do. I’ll be right there, send me the address. Wait, wait a minute, Director, Haewoong says he wants to come too. Can I bring him?

“He can’t. Come alone.”

– Yes.

After hanging up, Cheon Sejoo went outside again. After some time passed, guests began to arrive.

The first mourner was Kim Hyunkyung’s long-time friend. Sejin seemed to know her too, calling her “Auntie.” Immediately, she broke down and cried loudly, as if unable to believe the situation. Sejin, who had barely calmed down, started shedding tears again.

Cheon Sejoo stood beside him, his arm around Sejin’s shoulder, constantly comforting him. All the tears had to be shed. He had to cry until he had no more tears, and then shake it all off. Although it wouldn’t be easy to forget…

Time passed as they greeted the mourners. Seo Jinyoung, who arrived a little over an hour later, entered neatly dressed in a suit, offered flowers to Kim Hyunkyung’s portrait, and hugged Sejin, whom he was meeting for the first time, comforting him to be strong. Afterwards, he took a seat at the entrance of the mourning hall, introducing himself as Kim Hyunkyung’s junior colleague and greeting the mourners.

Among those who came to bid farewell to Kim Hyunkyung were her former colleagues and friends. People who had lost contact with her last autumn and then suddenly heard of her passing a year later were surprised and felt wronged about her life. Sejin cried with them. When someone cried out loudly, asking why their “older sister” had to leave at such a young age, he also nodded and shed tears.

As night fell and midnight approached, the staff from Hwagak arrived. Han Jiwon placed a thick envelope, saying it was from Madam Su-Seonhwa, into the condolence box, and also handed over an envelope collectively gathered by the staff.

The staff who had worked with Kim Hyunkyung for nearly a year couldn’t hide their shock. They had only heard that she was sick in the hospital, but they looked pale as if they hadn’t expected her to leave like this. Among them, the most distressed was a woman who, like Kim Hyunkyung, had entered Hwagak due to debt. She had been unhappy about Kim Hyunkyung meeting Sejin and had complained to Han Jiwon about the unfairness. Now, she cried while holding Sejin’s hand, saying she should have told her to come every week if she had known this would happen, admitting it was her fault and that she was sorry.

After they left, mourners who had traveled from distant places arrived. By then, Sejin was too exhausted to even shed tears. This was because every time someone mourned Kim Hyunkyung’s death, the reality hit him: his mother had truly passed away, and he was left alone in this world.

As dawn broke, the flow of mourners completely stopped. Cheon Sejoo forcibly took Sejin, who refused to rest, inside. He rolled up the jumper he had been wearing to make a pillow and laid Sejin down.

“Sleep. You’ll collapse if you keep this up. I’ll watch and wake you if a guest comes, so get at least a little sleep.”

“…I don’t want to sleep.”

Sejin, who had taken off his jacket and covered himself with it, looked up at Cheon Sejoo. Whining like a child with a chapped voice, Sejin held Cheon Sejoo’s hand. Since it was the hand that had continuously held him whenever he cried, Cheon Sejoo interlaced his fingers with Sejin’s without resistance and stroked the back of his hand with his thumb. A gentle voice flowed from him.

“You still have to sleep.”

“If I sleep, what about you?”

“When you wake up in the morning, I’ll rest for a bit. You come first. Close your eyes quickly.”

“……”

At Cheon Sejoo’s words, Sejin hesitated, bit his lip, and then tightly closed his eyes. His neatly arranged eyelashes fluttered softly with each breath he took. Cheon Sejoo stayed by his side until Sejin’s breathing became steady. However, sleep didn’t come easily, and Sejin soon opened his eyes again.

Transparent eyes turned to Cheon Sejoo. A blind emotion dwelled within those eyes. Sejin looked up at Cheon Sejoo’s weary face, who was guarding his side, and thought how fortunate he was to have him. What if you weren’t here? I can’t even imagine it. Sejin muttered to himself, pulled Seju’s hand, and placed it against his cheek.

“Touch my face. Then I think I’ll be able to sleep.”

“You’re not a dog…”

Cheon Sejoo chuckled in disbelief but didn’t refuse. His rough fingertips gently stroked Sejin’s face. Feeling the touch that ruffled his thin eyebrows, the touch that softly caressed his eyes, and the warm touch that brushed his cheek, Sejin slowly drifted off to sleep. He wished this moment was a dream, and at the same time, wished it wasn’t. He felt cowardly and guilty for feeling that way, but he couldn’t deny his emotions.