Chapter 103 – Face It (4)
Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl
"It ain't here."
"It's not here."
Juho and Geun Woo said simultaneously. Though they searched the room together, neither of them found the flash drive. Unfortunately, it meant that it wasn't in the studio. Thankfully, it wasn't such a big room and it was rather organized, enabling them to search through the entire place quickly.
"What do we do?" asked Geun Woo, looking concerned.
He knew what was in the flash drive Juho had lost. The open drawers and sheets of data scattered around the room were proof of their desperate search.
"Nothing, I guess," said Juho, walking around the room once more.
"You're not giving up now, are you?"
Juho wasn't giving up, but simply accepting the current situation. The reality was that his flash drive had gone missing, and like in most cases when belongings got lost, it resulted in jumbled up memories. Knowing that, Juho emptied his mind and focused on the barking dog in the distance.
"It's possible that the dog fetched it."
"Now's not the best time to write a novel, Juho," Geun Woo said sternly.
Juho tried to organize his thoughts. He had tried to revise 'Grains of Sand.' The flash drive had been stashed in his pocket, and the laptop happened to be in Geun Woo's studio. Because he had had some down time, he had decided to put the two objects together. After that, he had left the house to go visit the dog.
"Are you sure this is the last place where you saw it?"
"Most likely."
"Are you sure you didn't leave it at the doghouse?"
"I doubt it."
"That's weird..." muttered Geun Woo, looking around his studio. It was definitely strange. When his memory didn't match up with reality, Juho felt something odd in most cases. Fortunately, breaking out of it wasn't all that difficult. All it took was to either summon a ghost or lure the dog into the house. As long as he assumed one of them to be the culprit, the mystery would have practically solved itself.
"What are you guys doing?"
While he was lost in thought, a voice sounded from behind them. It was the man with the bushy hair. Geun Woo answered before Juho had time to respond, "Nothing."
"It doesn't seem to be that way," he said, walking around the messy studio. "What's with the mess?"
"A dog was in here."
"A dog?"
"Or a ghost."
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"A ghost??" the man asked, studying Juho with a puzzled look.
"I don't think I can catch up to your colorful imagination, Mr. Woo," he said. His hair covered his face, making it difficult to make out his expression.
As Juho stared at him intently, Geun Woo interjected, "Did you see a flash drive, by any chance?"
The man tilted his head, and his hair moved with it. His entire body was communicating that he was clueless.
"What flash drive?"
"We lost one, and we're looking for it. Where could this thing be?"
At Geun Woo's answer, the man's eyes rolled up toward the ceiling. He seemed like he was trying to think of something.
"You got me there."
"You have seen it, though," said Juho. Though calm, he sounded certain.
"Me? When?" the man asked.
"We were talking here earlier. My flash drive was in the laptop then."
"Ah, that's what you meant. I didn't see it. Heck, with Yun Woo in front of my eyes, I wouldn't be looking at some flash drive. Besides, I'm not even a writer anymore, so I don't even bother to look at my surroundings."
Contrary to his answer, he had come into the room looking rather natural. One couldn't change their habit overnight, but Juho couldn't argue. He simply gave him a nod and said, "I'm getting hungry."
"Ha...!" a dumbfounded laugh sounded from the floor. Juho looked down. Geun Woo was looking under the desk with his cheek to the floor.
"You're hungry? In this situation?"
"I know, right?"
"All right. Well, it's in the house somewhere for sure, so we'll keep looking. Unless the thing has a set of feet, it'll come out sometime, somewhere," Geun Woo said, standing up.
He was right. Juho hardly ever lost his belongings. To begin with, if he hadn't been in Yun Seo's house, he would have never taken the flash drive out of his pocket. It was a safe place for him. Yet, his belonging had gone missing.
"Dinner's ready. What are you all doing here?" asked Yun Seo, standing behind the man who was standing by the entrance. "Are you guys cleaning or something?" she asked as she looked around the room.
The man answered as he stood nearest to her, "Apparently, Mr. Woo has lost something."
"What??"
"A flash drive. Not just an ordinary flash drive, but the one that holds his works."
Despite the seemingly alarming news, Yun Seo remained calm. Maintaining her tranquility, she made a sound similar to her friend, Hyun Do Lim, "Hm... Did you look thoroughly?"
"Yes, Mrs. Baek."
"Every corner?"
"Yes, Mrs. Baek," answered Geun Woo. He had looked around with his cheek against the floor, so he would have definitely looked in every corner.
"I'll look for it."
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"Great! She's a master at finding lost items," said Geun Woo as he moved aside for her. Yun Seo nodded in affirmation. At that moment, Juho stopped her.
"We should eat first. The food's getting cold."
"We can always reheat it. Would you all like to go on ahead and eat then?"
He couldn't possibly do that. Eventually, she began to search the desk. Since it had been in the nearest vicinity of the laptop, it was the most likely candidate. Though Geun Woo and Juho had looked multiple times, the flash drive had been nowhere to be found. Perhaps with Yun Seo looking, the search would yield a different result.
A voice sounded from behind them, "You should take care of your belongings. I'll help."
Juho turned around, looked at him in the eyes and thought, 'If it's not the dog or a ghost, then who's left?"
"I know. I must've been way too excited about dinner."
"Please don't feel like you're being a nuisance. It happens when you're young. Think of it as a lesson for the future."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Of course, their efforts went in vain despite involving the master searcher. Seeing as how the search went on for a lot longer than anticipated, Juho tried changing the atmosphere. This time, he went in a slightly different direction.
"I'm getting pretty hungry. Could we go eat now?"
Yun Seo stopped in her tracks at the young author's voice.
"Of course! Geun Woo, would you mind lending me a hand in the kitchen?"
"Yes, Mrs. Baek."
"We'll keep looking," said the man with bushy hair walking toward the desk. He moved his hands about as if he was looking for something. Clattering sounds filled the room. Juho heard Yun Seo and Geun Woo in the distance. They were alone, and Juho called out to the man.
"What is it?" he asked.
"How did you know?"
"Know what?"
"That my works were in the flash drive."
"..." Juho had never brought up anything about what was in the flash drive to him.
"I heard you and Geun Woo talking from the hallway when I was coming to get you guys," the man said, chuckling.
"So, you did know about the flash drive. You sounded like you knew nothing about it."
"... Did I? Well, I haven't seen it with my own eyes, so that's why I said it the way I did. I can see how there's room for misunderstanding though."
"That's what makes words such a powerful thing. I'm reminded of that often because of my occupation as an author."
As a writer, he was well aware of the power of words. He also knew full well of how close truth and lie were from one another. Because words had no shape, people tended to let it leave their lips with ease, all too thoughtlessly. They hardly realized how massive a power words could carry. Maybe it was for that reason that people often tried desperately to get rid of the evidence of having said certain things. Visible and tangible evidence. It had to have shape in order for it to be fully disposed of.
Juho said, looking at the desk, "It's strange. I could've sworn I left it here. It's almost as if it got sucked into another dimension."
"That's what it's like to lose something. By the time you come to your senses, it's already gone, no matter how secure you might have felt it was," the man said, turning around to look in Juho's direction. "It's upsetting. It's aggravating. You want to blame others, but you can't do that either because it's entirely your fault. Right? Don't be anxious. We'll find it," he said in a rather friendly tone. Their eyes met. He was also looking at Juho.
KH999 - វិបផតថលហ្គេមកាស៊ីណូដ៏ល្បីល្បាញឈានមុខគេនៅ Cambodia
KH999 - ល្បែងប្រជាប្រិយខ្មែរ លេងហើយជក់ចិត្ត
"I appreciate your help. That should be enough."
"You're not giving up, are you?"
"Yes, I am," Juho answered immediately.
"Writing must not mean all that much to you, Mr. Woo," said the man with a furrowed brow. He seemed irritated by Juho's quick response.
"When did I say anything about writing? You're an author. You should know the value of each and every one of your pieces," Juho said somewhat sharply.
"Well, it's just that you didn't seem like you meant that. I'm not an author anymore," said the man mockingly. It was subtle, but apparent.
"Not an author, huh," Juho said, smiling. "Then you wouldn't mind if I suspect you of something, would you?"
"Suspect me of what?"
"Are you not aware of the reason why we haven't used the word "culprit" still?"
He clenched his lips. Juho had given him a friendly reminder on how dangerous of a statement he had just made.
"An author can't steal another writer's work. They know the meaning behind it all too well. Getting your hands on another writer's work is to abandon your dignity as an author."
Having given up on writing, the man was no longer an author.
"There are only authors here in this house."
Including Yun Seo and Geun Woo, everyone in the house had been desperately holding onto that truth. Juho asked, "But what was it that you said just now?"
He had said that he was no longer an author with his own lips. 'If it's not the dog or a ghost, it has to be a person,' thought Juho. Everyone in the house was an author, but there was exception. Juho looked at the man intently.
"..."
"Words are powerful. You can't take them back once they leave you. It gets rather messy really quick. We all make mistakes, children and adults alike."
The man's lips quivered, looking somewhat angry and anxious at the same time.
"Then, why aren't you trying to find it?" he asked in a slightly hoarse sounding voice. His face became visible, and it was filled with malicious intent. He had the appearance of a person who wanted to bring someone down with him as he spiraled down himself. He desired for Juho's downfall and for his career to come crashing down. He was blinded by his desires. His hair concealed his face once again.
"I have all my works saved up at home and my flash drive is password protected, so I don't have anything to worry about. Nobody will be able to read what's in it, whether it's a dog or a ghost. If the flash drive really is in this house still, it'll be found eventually. I'll get it then," Juho said, smiling peacefully.
The man's expression grew darker and darker. It was apparent that things were not turning the way he had hoped they would.
"Such a relief, right?" said Juho.
The man's face became more and more distorted with anger. He had the look of a victim.
"Yun Woo is amazing," he said, sarcastically. He had said something similar to Juho that day. "Success after success. I suppose that's how you're able to look so peaceful while making a fool of an adult in front of you."
"I'm not making a fool out of you. I was simply beating around the bush a little bit. Words are a powerful things."
Though Juho's words may have been sincere, nothing could change the twisted mind of a twisted listener.
"See? You'll never know. You'll never learn what it feels like to be comforted by a kid."
Juho stared at him quietly, infuriating the man all the more.
"Just be angry, why don't you? Why don't you just say that you know I stole it and ask me to hand it over?"
"No, thanks," Juho said light-heartedly. "I have to write. I don't want to waste my emotions with times like this."
"You make people miserable."
"No," Juho said firmly.Chapter 104 – Face It (5)
Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl
"You seemed unstable from the first time I saw you."
They met while the man was on the verge of giving something up. From the beginning of their encounter, he was cornered to the edge of a cliff. That had to be why he had done something so foolish. An author giving up writing. An author praised as a genius. One who stood on the edge of a cliff tended to lose their footing easily.
"That's right," he admitted in a weak voice. His emotions seemed to be rather unpredictable. "I was forced to quit because my books weren't selling," the man explained as if giving him an excuse. "People only look for Yun Woo and his books. They only talk about him. My books are collecting dust in a corner of bookstore, rotting away. It's nothing like your fancy book. That was it. That was the result of my work."
Countless books had met the same unfortunate fate. Even books written with every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears ended up getting lost and forgotten.
"You're young. You haven't even been writing as long as I have. You didn't even have to try as hard as I have. That's why I can't accept this reality. It makes no sense."
"So, what will change if you steal my flash drive?"
"Nothing..." he murmured. "I wanted to see you getting angry at the very least. I desperately wanted to see you getting anxious. I wanted to prove to myself that I'm not the only person who felt this way."
Unfortunately, things had not turned out the way he had hoped, just as how Juho had hoped for a ghost or a dog that hadn't really existed.
He may have given up writing, but Juho was still an author.
"You won."
"This was never something worth competing over," said Juho, still smiling. "This was your choice."
Giving up had been his choice.
"No," the man denied.
"Who told you to give up then?" asked Juho.
"The world," said the man. If that had been true, he had been fighting an opponent that he couldn't beat. Had he been overcome, or did he announce an opponent he knew he didn't stand a chance against so that he could give his decision meaning? He was playing his own god. Much like God, words provided a reason for those in need of one, all without revealing themselves.
"So where is it?" Juho asked calmly. Though he wasn't explicit, the man understood immediately.
"Nowhere."
"What did you do with it?"
"Did you check the backyard?"
"No."
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"There are a lot rocks there, so I picked one up."
Juho pictured him crushing the flash drive with a rock in his hand.
"Did you break it?"
"Completely. I threw it away."
"Where?"
"Down the toilet."
A cruel fate. Kidnapped, damaged and then disposed of. By that point, the remnants would be floating down the Han River somewhere.
"What if it had clogged the toilet?"
"It was too small for that."
The room fell silent, and the air became damp. He was overcome with the realization of having committed something irrevocable. Juho looked up at the ceiling for a brief moment. It had to be dark out at the point. At that moment, an intoxicating smell came into the room.
"If I were you, I'd have waited until after dinner."
"... What?"
"It's your last."
"... My last?" he asked, looking perplexed.
"Are you telling me that you're not smelling this?"
By reflex, the man inhaled at the word 'smell,' clumsily and awkwardly as if he had never done it before. Only then did he finally realize that he had been holding his breath. His senses returned, suffocating him with realities that he had wanted to avoid all along. He stared at Yun Woo standing in front of him.
The young author asked him mercilessly, "Where are we?"
'Mrs. Baek's house."
"What have you done?"
'Thud.' He felt his heart drop. His hands started to shake.
"What have I..." With all the discontentment aside, he started to see things more clearly. Dark emotions were flowing about him, and he couldn't do anything to resist them. 'Where am I? What have I done?'
"Now you seem to be aware of your surroundings. You used to be an author you know," said Juho, emphasizing the fact that he was no longer an author. The man felt vulnerable to those seemingly ruthless and forceful words as they coiled around him like a snake. He felt exposed and powerless.
"Now, think again."
"... about what?"
"About yourself."
Like Juho had said, he thought about himself. 'I'm an author, no I used to be an author. It was my choice to give up writing. Nobody forced me to quit. This world has nothing to do with it.'
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"Pathetic," he said, smiling. He had been feeling that way since well before he met Yun Woo in person. He felt chills running down his spine. "I didn't want to write anymore."
His joy of becoming an author was short-lived. There was a sea of well-written books around him, making him focus on his weaknesses. He couldn't think of a way to compete. It was during that time of his life that Yun Woo appeared. His writing was both colorful and beautiful. It almost felt like his book was the only book existing under the sun. His book had been on a different level, and the contrast was rather striking. Though much younger, Yun Woo was much more skilled as a writer than he had ever been. A child had surpassed him. He had reached his limits and he couldn't go on any longer. He lost the will to fight.
"I lost my awareness of my surroundings long ago."
He had turned his eyes away from himself. In order to avoid his own stench, he had been holding his breath. The world had become smaller and smaller. It made sense that he couldn't go on writing. He had given up and reached for whatever reason that he could grasp and cover himself with it. However...
"I still couldn't hide from you. You're simply too big and shiny." He paused, "But when I saw you here... you were writing in the same place where I was giving it all up. That's why I did it."
He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were covered by his bushy hair. He had come to visit his teacher in that untidy appearance. He felt miserable, and nobody had made him that way but himself.
"I'm sorry...
"... Mrs. Baek."
Yun Seo was standing quietly by the door. He recognized her presence from the intoxicating smell of grilled meat. Having confessed, he dropped his head.
Standing next to Yun Seo, Geun Woo added, "Both Joon Soo and I were struggling with our books not selling. Joon Soo is giving a lecture even at this very moment. I even threw my manuscript away, but you know what? We never tried to steal what belonged to another person and ranted about our situations. We still wanted to be authors, even if that meant our books not selling. We might not have been popular, but we were still authors."
"... You're right. I've been just hiding behind the title 'author.'"
He had simply been dishonest about his decision to give up. He looked at Yun Woo and came to realize the person reflecting on those clear eyes. Yun Woo didn't criticize him. The man didn't see himself in those eyes. Yun Woo didn't even think about someone like him. 'What have I been doing?' the man had reconnected with reality.
"I'm sorry," he said in a cracked voice. He apologized in front of his teacher, fellow author, and Yun Woo.
"... I'm so sorry," his voice wavered.
Juho was the only one standing with his shoulders wide open.
"It's OK. You don't have to worry about paying me back," said Juho light-heartedly. He didn't intend on blowing things out of proportion. Besides, he did manage to get something out of the experience: those who take from others. War. Death. God. The shape of the narrator began to take form slowly.
In the end, the man left without staying for dinner.
"I'm home."
"Hey! You said you'd have eaten by the time you came back, right?"
"Yes."
Having greeted his mother, Juho walked into his room. Changing into his home clothes, he lay on the bed and felt his eyes getting heavy. Realizing how tired he felt, he let out a sigh. At that moment, the door opened.
"If you're still hungry, do you want me to make you something?"
It was his mother. She was asking even though she was aware of the fact that her son had already eaten.
"It's OK. I had a big dinner."
"That's good. Are you OK?"
ចំណុចប្រទាក់ខ្មែរប្រពៃណី – ប៉ុន្តែការលេងហ្គេមទំនើបណាស់។
KH999 - វិបផតថលហ្គេមកាស៊ីណូដ៏ល្បីល្បាញឈានមុខគេនៅ Cambodia
"Yes."
After saying goodnight, she closed the door and left. Juho sat up from the bed and sat himself in front of his computer. In it, was the same content as the one in the flash drive. Bushy hair. Juho hadn't recognized his name. He and his books hadn't been very popular, making him give up writing. For that reason, he was moved to destroy something that hadn't belonged to him. While thinking about him, Juho remembered the conversation he had had with Yun Seo on his way out.
"Do you think it will stay with you?" she asked. He had just eaten, so he rubbed his stomach by reflex.
"You mean the meat?"
Yun Seo laughed with relief.
"Do you think you can handle it?" she asked again, concerned. "If you can't, you can always give it to me."
"You make it sound like it's an object."
"It might as well be. If you keep it in you, it'll eventually rot away."
"I better digest it before it goes bad."
Though Juho answered with a smile, Yun Seo didn't let up.
"It must've been upsetting."
"I definitely wasn't happy."
"Do you feel like you like this world a little bit less now?"
"Thankfully, it wasn't to that extent. After all, it all happened because I was simply too capable."
Looking in his direction, Yun Seo nodded, pushing him gently.
"Then go write. Don't hold back."
She knew well of the way Juho worked with his emotions. Before going on his way, Juho asked, "Are you OK, Mrs. Baek?"
The man had been her own pupil. Seeing as how her own pupil had spiraled down into darkness, she had to be in pain.
"I've seen this often. It is never easy, but I know that the pain won't last forever," she said with a smile.
Juho slowly rose from his chair and turned on his computer. The screen lit up, showing everything he had written up to that point. Everything had been intact with nothing missing or damaged. What the man had crushed and flushed down the toilet had been none other than himself as an author.
'There had been a war, a war to take away from others. In order to take something that one didn't possess, weapons had been made, and hearts had boiled in anger despite knowing that the outcome would be unfortunate and miserable. If there was a God...'
"If I were God."
He would have been dying to leave mankind behind. 'Don't hold back,' somebody had told him earlier that day. Juho calmly moved his pen. The protagonist wrapped in a luxurious fabric lived at a point in the history where there was no God. War had come to an end. God had left the world. Only stories existed in that world, and it was as if God had really existed in the past.
The beginning of the journey took place in his hometown. He, too, had parents who had raised him. They were beings who had birthed him into the world. Juho thought of the man's bushy hair. He was someone who couldn't accept the fact that he had given up.
The protagonist's father had wrapped himself in fancy clothing. He was wealthy, but he couldn't bear to be alone. He interacted with and made love to as many people as he possibly could. As a result, he had many families and offsprings.
"I'll give you an allowance."
As if by habit, the father always said that.
"You're cowardly, father," said the son, the protagonist.
In his eyes, his father was a coward. Because he lacked the courage to give something up, he ended up ruining countless lives, including his own. The son ended up alone.
The son was sensitive to language. He had his ears open to others' opinions as well as his father's. He thoroughly understood the situations he faced. He was being clothed, fed, and educated with his father's wealth. With the exception of his father, the son expressed his anger to every single person around him. He grew less and less tolerant. Angry. Detached.
Then, he changed.