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The moments had stopped. Souho's voice kept ringing in my ears—like an old bell that wouldn't go quiet. The sky was crying in my place, but my eyes… they had run dry, as if something inside me had withered completely.
I was walking—not through darkness, but down streets where angry car horns kept warning me to step aside, to move out of their way. But I didn't listen. I couldn't. My feet carried me to the only place that still felt like a shelter—a place that, even in the dark, still glowed softly for me.
As I stepped into the park, I took a deep breath and pushed the rusty gate open with effort. Children's laughter echoed through the air. Some were jumping rope, others playing soccer. Their smiles stretched wide despite the soft rain falling around them. It was strange, almost surreal. With this weight in my chest, how could they smile like that? And yet… somehow, watching them still brought me a quiet comfort.
"Not thinking about anything… just enjoying," I whispered to myself. I turned away and walked toward the grassy hill, toward that one tall tree where I could lie down, even just for a moment, and close my eyes to everything. Maybe I just wanted to forget today.
With steps growing weaker, I climbed the damp slope, the wind brushing against my skin as the grass whispered beneath my shoes. I finally reached the tree, lay down under its wide branches, and closed my eyes.
But then—something. I felt it.
Footsteps on the wet grass. Soft. Slow. Drawing closer.
I opened my eyes.
She was there.
Curly short hair, skin pale like snow, wearing a white blouse tucked into worn denim jeans. A small, knowing smile curved on her lips as she sat beside me without asking.
It was Sia.
She glanced at me and said softly, "I see you're not smiling… just like Souho."
I wanted to answer, to say something back—but the silence was too loud, holding my words hostage.
She let out a quiet sigh. "I saw him today. But… he wasn't himself. Not really."
"Why? Did he take out his anger on you too?" I murmured, my voice barely there.
She gave a crooked little smile. "No. If it were just anger, I wouldn't be thinking about him this much. He was too quiet. It was like… he wasn't even present. That kind of silence scares me more than his rage."
Then she paused. Her voice grew serious.
"When we were kids… our parents split up. I barely remember anything about our dad. But Souho… he hates Mom. She doesn't really care about us. She just… tolerates us. Because she has to. I decided to stay with her. But Souho… he kept his connection with our dad. I don't understand why. I was always scared of him. But Souho… he still visits him. Even three ti—"
Her voice cracked. She couldn't finish.
And then, tears fell.
I wanted to comfort her, say something, anything—but before I could move, she stood up and left. No goodbye. No glance back.
Only her words stayed behind.
Could Souho's behavior today… have something to do with his father? I didn't know. But deep down, I felt it. I wouldn't be able to ask him—not now, maybe not ever.
I got up and left the park. The trees were still dripping, and the road ahead curved gently as if the wind itself was guiding me northward. I walked in silence, the sound of the rain fading behind me—
—when suddenly, two hands slipped over my eyes from behind.
Warm. Familiar.
And a playful voice whispered into my ear:
"Guess who?"
For just a moment, the world stopped again. And my heart… forgot how to beat.
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