Chapter Text
"What do I do now?"
That thought always lingered in the back of Gi-hun's head since he was a child.
He never had a clear sense of direction or plan for the future. He didn't even know what job he wanted; he just knew he wanted to be happy.
And younger him soon realized that his happiness wouldn't be found in notes, lectures, or anything tied to school, academics, you name it. But outside, playing; laughing with friends as if there wasn't a test tomorrow; exploring everything and anything nature had in store for him.
And most of all, his happiness lay with his bestest friend in the entire world, Sangwoo--filled with potential and intellect.
Which explains why it felt like the world grew a whole lot darker after he left for SNU.
Gi-hun knew it would happen, you can't tie down something meant for the skies for long. Sweet, humble Ssangmun-dong's too small for someone as bright as Sangwoo. But that didn't mean it hurt any less.
And now that question's back again to haunt his present; you never really grow up, do you?
He's only stepped into his neighborhood once since he got back here. Walking down the same streets, knowing the person he used to walk with can and never will be able to? Painful, he can almost feel the familiar sensation of bile working his way up his throat at the thought of doing so again.
He risked his life for the money in the card he's holding right now, but he hasn't used much of it.
All that can be found in the card's transactional history is the payment to the hospital for his mom's diabetes treatment and a cheque to the loan sharks, to avoid them going after members of his family.
He may have gained an unreal amount of money in his bank account, but for what? His best friend's dead, and there's a high chance of his mom being next.
"It's been left untreated for far too long," they told him.
People died trying to get this money, why does he think it has the ability to save someone? It's cursed.
Waves crash into the shore and retreat back into the ocean, just to come back and do it all over again.
Gi-hun's been hanging around the benches overlooking the river lately.
He doesn't want to go back into the house he once called home, and he doesn't want to get a hotel room since that means using the blood money. Why should he spend it on himself? It's not his, it never was, it was never supposed to be.
Ironically, he's living worse than before; despite having a million times more money on "his" card than he thought he'll ever have.
He's once again lucky everyone today who passes decides not to bother the homeless looking man staring off into the water.
They probably think he's here to jump--some of them maybe even hope he will. And Gi-hun wouldn't put it past them, he wants to too.
But he can't, he's not allowed to. He promised, Sangwoo made him promise.
Why on earth should he disrespect a dying man's wish? Especially since the one in question is Sangwoo; he's always held what he said in high regard.
When did things become so complicated? What was the turning point; when was the turning point?
He would tear every single bit of won in the bank under his name if it meant he could go back to how it was, when it was simpler. Where the only thing on his mind is what game he would come up with to cure his and Sangwoo's boredom.
But you can't turn back time; time doesn't care about money or the people that get hurt and die in the process. It just keeps trecking on, indefinitely, forever.
"Appa! Appa! Faster!"
He almost falls off the bench.
A father daughter duo, joyfully laughing down the sidewalk. The dad obviously not going at full speed, more like powerwalking than running compared to the little girl next to him. Absolutely sprinting to just try and keep pace.
It's jarringly different to his predicament right now, so full of excitement, wonder; untouched by the cruelties this world has to offer.
It's.. like staring into a reflection, a mirror into his past.
He was happy like that, if not more, once. He remembers running down the streets, laughs loud and boisterous, uncaring who'll hear. Since what people thought didn't matter, just the fact that he was happy with someone he holds close.
Gi-hun and the father make brief eye contact; the father picking up his kid and walking just a bit faster.
"He thinks I'm some sort of pervert, doesn't he?" He sighs.
Again, Gi-hun can't put it past him; he surely would've done, and probably has done the same thing.
He focuses his gaze back onto the shore, waves doing the same thing it always does.
Ga-yeong.. his beloved daughter.
He never forgot about her, she was half the reason he kept persevering. Another spark of joy, coloring in what Sangwoo left behind; not as bright, but enough.
Gi-hun doesn't regret her one bit, maybe the circumstances could've been better, but he doesn't feel any resentment, only guilt.
Guilt for not doing better, for not attending her birth, for not providing enough, for having to make her grow up with two homes, for.. everything he has done and failed to do.
He can't risk losing a third thing in his life.
That day, the disheveled man was nowhere to be seen near the bench or river.
And a slightly less dead-eyed man walked out of a salon, red hair glittering. Signs of better days still etched onto every wrinkle, but resolve brimming just below the surface.
The river still flowing, but spared from a humanoid looking object floating in it for another day.