Chapter 102
After Yuhobum fell from the stage, shot, and an explosion followed.
The blaze spread uncontrollably through the auditorium, leaving only immobile Yugyeom behind.
Yugyeom pressed his hands against the gushing wound in his waist, hunched over. Smoke filled his lungs.
The unbearable heat clawed at his throat. Instead of breath, metallic clanging poured from his mouth.
He felt the end was near.
“Haha….”
A laugh escaped him. The fire had come full circle again, consuming him once more.
This final moment was quieter and more peaceful than expected. Yugyeom thought this end wasn’t too bad.
‘…Father.’
As he raised the gun towards his father, a thought crossed his mind. Nothing else mattered anymore. He had waited for this day for so long.
“Do you remember? The day you came to pick me up.”
The first winter that wasn’t cold. Yugyeom could never dream of that final day of the season.
The memory was blurry, like mist, but there was something etched in his mind.
I’ll come back tomorrow. The face that said it as he returned to the house where they had agreed to meet again.
The discomfort of living in such a different world became a precious, almost sacred emotion.
At first, he didn’t know anything. The end was unimaginable.
But what is precious often disappears in the happiest moments.
‘Now I can finally close those eyes.’
Holding back the impulse to repay his father in kind, Yugyeom pulled the trigger.
His father, who never seemed to die, fell backward like a deflating doll.
The last glance they shared lingered like a haunting memory even after he was gone.
Then the explosion erupted.
In an instant, the flames rose uncontrollably. Yet, strangely, his mind felt clear.
That day, in the fire.
‘It’s just a nightmare.’
‘….’
‘When you wake up, it’ll all be over. I’ll help you.’
Like the tears that flowed when he first emerged into the world, unbidden and deeply rooted, tears now slipped down his face.
His cheeks soaked in those tears appeared vividly in his mind.
Perhaps it was the woman who broke down the walls he couldn’t escape from himself.
Even in the fire, all he could think of was her, not his first murder at twelve.
“…Gyeom!”
The name escaped his lips, a name he had feared to call out, but now it was spoken fully.
At that moment, a faint voice echoed from somewhere.
Yugyeom, surrounded by the overwhelming flames, was certain it was just an illusion. He had no hope, no expectation left.
The breath he exhaled with a hollow laugh came out mixed with blood.
“Yugyeom! If you can hear me, please respond!”
The shout was far too vivid for an illusion. Yugyeom suddenly lifted his head.
Could it be?
There’s no way. Baek Hawon must have missed him. There’s no way she let him go. This can’t be real.
Yugyeom desperately tried to deny it. It was simply because some part of him held on to the hope. This must be a reality-bending dream.
“Anything is fine! Please!”
But hearing the desperate plea, Yugyeom couldn’t deny it any longer.
That voice could be real. There was no denying that slight possibility now. He had to confirm it, even if it meant using his last breath.
Yugyeom clenched his jaw and forced himself upright. His vision blurred as blood loss made him dizzy.
He pressed his hands tightly against his aching, bleeding waist, but the flow of blood wouldn’t stop.
Had there ever been a moment so close to death?
His vision, narrowing with each step, flickered—momentarily clear, then fading into a haze.
With each step forward, Yugyeom felt his remaining time shortening exponentially.
‘…Where are you?’
The scorching heat suffocated his breath. All he could see was the red flames everywhere.
Every beat of his heart reverberated through his body. He imagined his pounding heart would soon burst out of his chest.
Yet, strangely, no laughter came—only silence.
Yugyeom staggered forward, inching towards her. His teeth were clenched tightly, but a beast-like groan escaped from his mouth.
He desperately wished for this life not to end yet.
‘Just a little.’
There had never been a moment so intensely desperate for life.
A time spent walking towards the end, as if dead already.
‘Please, just a little more.’
This was salvation he had never dared to seek, because he knew it was something he could never have.
Crack!
A loud crash echoed, and Yugyeom stopped. His eyes fell on the crumbling figure of Yeonbyeol in front of him.
“…Ha.”
He thought he couldn’t laugh anymore, but a breathless chuckle escaped him.
There she was. Crawling into the fire with him, again and again.
The realization washed over him like a storm. His heart couldn’t contain the overwhelming emotions.
“…Cha Yeonbyeol.”
Yugyeom began to run toward her. The scorching wind clawed at him, but he didn’t stop.
With every painful step, he pressed forward with every ounce of strength.
This might truly be the last time.
But it must end with only his life crumbling.
“Cha Yeonbyeol!”
The red sky shattered around him. The world disintegrated, yet Yugyeom didn’t cease, his voice piercing through the destruction.
Then, as the ceiling fully collapsed, he threw himself towards the woman who couldn’t hear him.
Crash!
Yugyeom held Yeonbyeol tightly in his arms, rolling across the floor without a second thought.
The ground shook beneath them. Loud crashes accompanied the falling debris of concrete, scattering in every direction.
After a long moment, the vibrations subsided, and Yugyeom finally lifted his head to check on Yeonbyeol cradled beneath him.
It felt as if he had lost consciousness when the ceiling caved in.
“…Wake up.”
Yugyeom whispered softly, gently brushing his fingers over Yeonbyeol’s cheek.
Her eyelids remained closed, still as if asleep for eternity.
Yugyeom squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. His pale fingers trembled as they lingered on her face.
“Please wake up.”
His voice cracked as he pleaded, his breathing ragged. His heart pounded unnaturally fast. Over her motionless form, a memory surfaced—the image of a cold, lifeless face cradled in his arms during his childhood.
Swallowing a shaky breath, Yugyeom pressed his ear to her chest, trying to hear her heartbeat.
Yet, it was hard to distinguish whether the faint sound was hers or his own fading heartbeat.
His mind, barely holding on to consciousness, couldn’t focus on anything beyond the desperate moment.
“Wake up. Please.”
Yugyeom groaned, his eyes locking onto hers once more.
“…Ah!”
Suddenly, Yeonbyeol exhaled, opening her eyes as if waking from a dream. She blinked rapidly, meeting Yugyeom’s gaze.
Their eyes finally connected.
Yugyeom’s body slackened, and for a moment, he almost collapsed onto her. His hand pressed against the ground, veins bulging as he struggled to maintain his balance.
Seeing her breathe, feeling her alive, snapped Yugyeom back to reality.
Though part of the ceiling had caved, it was only a matter of time before the rest followed.
Yugyeom struggled to rise from her, trying to hold back the overwhelming pain that threatened to overtake him.
“From here…” he began, but couldn’t finish the thought.
His body tilted forward once again, and he felt himself descending, pulled by an unseen force toward her.
“Why did you do it? Why?”
Yeonbyeol’s voice broke as she tightly embraced Yugyeom, clutching him desperately. Her voice was choked, suffocated with emotion.
Her mind raced with thoughts—she needed to push him away, get him out of there. Yet her limbs refused to respond. Her body refused to release him.
The warmth of her embrace felt too real, too comforting.
“You promised you wouldn’t die.”
Her voice trembled, and memories flooded her. The moment they stood on her legs together, pleading him to stay alive for her.
That plea—”Don’t die”—was the first time those words ever held so much weight.
Yugyeom, wrapped in her unyielding embrace, gradually began to regain some clarity.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t push her away.
His body failed him. Strength drained from his muscles, and all he could do was lean into her warmth.
He whispered, though his voice wavered, “If you wake up from this nightmare, everything will be fine.”
Tears welled in Yeonbyeol’s eyes, her gaze sharp and unwavering as she stared at him.
“Neither of us will wake up, Yugyeom,” she said softly.
Her dark eyes pierced into his, and despite his attempts to look away, he couldn’t escape her intense gaze.
“This isn’t a nightmare,” she continued. “This is my world.”
In the next breath, Yeonbyeol fiercely grabbed Yugyeom’s collar, pulling him down toward her once more.
Yugyeom helplessly tilted forward, surrendering himself to her grasp.
“Don’t let go,” she whispered, her voice unwavering in its intensity.
The world spun around them, but neither could break free from the gravity of each other’s presence.
And then, as if fate sealed their moment, Yeonbyeol pressed her lips against Yugyeom’s in a final, consuming kiss.
