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Contrary to what you may think, Saheon doesn’t think of him immediately.
When he hands over his points so that the agent can return from the lump of flesh in a tube, all Saheon thinks is that there is a debt that has been paid. The items and the silence in between will be paid back after, that that is a separate debt.
From the periphery of Director Ho’s project, Saheon doesn’t know what it is that Soleum aims to achieve though. The end of the disaster in Sekwang Metropolitan City is one thing, but it clearly isn’t what the Wish Ticket is for. Saheon doesn’t ask, and no one tells him.
And then Soleum disappears.
For the first time in a very long time, Saheon thinks of his sister.
And when he thinks of his sister, he is taken back to that village once more.
When he closes his eyes, the straps tug on his shoulders and the bag weighs heavy against his back. Bones clatter inside and even if he presses his palms to his ears, the sound lingers.
Behind him, the village burns.
He won’t leave her here though, his sister deserves a proper cremation, somewhere far away from this place that has only ever taken from them. This place that has taken his sister already, will not be the place that gets to keep her too.
Saheon runs with nothing but that backpack, nothing but the weight that will not let him leave. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as the smoke builds, and the flames cover his back. He looks back, and blood rains from the sky. He doesn’t, and blood erupts like a volcano in front of him.
Jisan Village takes the bones from him each time.
He wakes up sweating, a blurry eye frantically seeking out his clock in this empty room.
One year passes, then two.
He returns to the village, and then again. And again, and again, and again, and nothing ever changes.
Until something does.
Working at Daydream, Saheon is, of course, familiar with the Supernatural Disaster Management Bureau. He does not think much of them because there isn’t much to think of, not until he is staring at a pair of glasses and messy hair.
The agent appraises him and frowns, seeing something in his expression that Saheon does not see himself.
“If that’s what you think, so what?” he says hoarsely. There is no saving his sister—is his life not worth living?
If she was not worth saving, does that mean he isn’t either?
“So you’ve been planning this for a long time.”
Truthfully, if it had been him, she would have found a way to save him. That’s how it had always been—that is all Saheon ever knew of family. In lieu of parents or a village to call home, he once had a sister.
“You must have thought hard about whether this would work, and what to do if the agents failed to rescue you.”
“That’s right.” Saheon smiles mirthlessly. “I thought about it every day. What would I do if I ever got chosen. I never wanted to end up like that. Every time I slept in this shitty house, every time someone died, even when my older sister died!”
For Baek Saheon, there is no salvation. There is survival that he must rip off the bone with his own teeth, that his desperation leaks into the shape of with each Darkness he clears at Daydream.
And in return, he is brought back to the one place where he is most reminded of this.
The words spill out like vomit. “I always thought, I never want to end up like that. Fuck, if I die, god or whatever…”
“God?” The agent prompts and Saheon nearly freezes. This is the first time he’s ever spoken of any of it to anyone at all, anyone—alive.
“This festival is for worshipping a god, then.”
“Worship? No!” Baek Saheon practically screams. “This is a ritual to make a god!”
How funny, that in running away from the ritual to make a god, Saheon builds a faith of his own, and folds it into the shape of a boat, one made of a paper so thin it couldn’t withstand the seas, and he entrusts to someone he shouldn’t.
Truthfully, he must have suspected it. Agent Grapes only ever appeared when his roommate was otherwise indisposed and those other agents were familiar with him. If there was anyone who could have easily confirmed it, then it would have been Saheon, with the very eye Soleum himself gifted him.
He could never find the right moment to check though. He never wanted to—it was easier to keep those two separate the same way Soleum kept him separate from the rest of his acquaintances.
Saheon prefers the periphery. It is easier to disappear if no one will look for you in the first place, and it is easier to survive when you do not have to depend on anyone. When no one else is depending on you.
One year passes, then two. The nightmares of the night he lost his sister never disappear, but a new one joins them. Flesh spills from the ceiling and through his nose, down his throat until it solidifies around his chest. It clenches, and eyes peak at his heart from the cavity within.
Found you, an eerie voice says, one that could not be from the Darkness. Found you!
Three years pass. Saheon puts space between himself and the past and keeps walking forward. That is the key to surviving—you must never look back.
But Soleum—that lump of flesh, molten and Saheon thinks he might throw up—depended on him once. Even if he does not look back, that reminder metastatizes like the guilt he once convinced himself he did not have the luxury of feeling.
So he takes one look at the prison orange and the two men ganging up on him and decides: this too, is a debt I must repay.
He has learned to never trust a word from Soleum’s lips, that he will lie before anyone can so much as glimpse the truth, and he learns to flinch at these lies. Three years pass, he learns to stand firm too.
“You’re lying.”
“It’s true.” Soleum shrugs and straightens his worker jacket. “And I have no intention of threatening you. I don't need to anymore.”
Is this a lie? Where within the lie could the truth be? His lies only held up for as long as they did because of the truth they were built around—does that mean he’s confident Saheon will do as he wishes without the lies? He hasn’t been here for three years, he doesn’t know what Saheon will do.
“…”
Saheon doesn’t know what he will do. He knows what he wants—maybe if he could touch him, he could tell. That’s a stranger uncertainty—he’s never doubted what he can see like this before.
Conversely, there’s only been one other time he hesitated to rely on his sight to confirm the truth.
“I was just glad to see you.”
Saheon flinches.
Liar.
. ˳ · ˖ ✶ 𓆩 𓁺 𓆪 ✶ ˖ · ˳ .
He gets Soleum’s money sorted out first and continues his work before going to find him again. There’s little reason to assume the researcher is suspicious of him, but Saheon’s never been one for the sciences anyway.
Soleum looks better today, a little less beat up, and a little more surprised to hear from him. Saheon wonders: was his impression of me truly so bad?
“…Don’t do anything too conspicuous.”
Saheon scoffs. “Didn't you ask me to smuggle you out so you could leave safely in a week?”
Soleum stays silent.
Saheon wants to step forward and shake him. Ask him what it is that he wanted so badly that he risked so much for. What it is that he did to Saheon, where he now can’t think of anyone else but him.
“Now you’re acting all considerate, but I don't need it. Do you think I’m still a Supervisor?”
Was he truly so bad? He’s stayed this long because he intends to follow through on his words and repay a debt. Beyond that, it will be Soleum’s hands to determine what comes next.
“I’m just telling you to be careful. I can be worried, can’t I?”
His stomach flips. He doesn’t like leaving things in Soleum’s hands. He doesn’t like how he can’t tell whether he’s lying or not—mostly because he’s used to stranger words and an even stranger tone.
For someone so kind, sincerity seldom suits Kim Soleum.
“…I really don't know what you’re thinking,” he murmurs, subdued.
Soleum asks things of him easily and he asks him for help even more easily. Saheon wonders if he ever knew that agent—no, his roommate.
He knows the answer to that too.
“…Anyway, I’d like to be able to secretly dig out this dirt to investigate further. By any chance, can you keep the CCTV here off constantly or get rid of it?”
“It’s not like I can’t do it.”
Does Soleum ask him so easily because he knows Saheon will or because he thinks Saheon will? How sure is he that he knows the man in front of him at all?
Baek Saheon crosses his arms. “Do you think I’ll do it just because you said it like that?”
No, he’s asking for so much after so long. They knew each other a lifetime ago and Soleum walked away with the deck stacked in his hands and Saheon in his palm.
He is grateful. In his own way, in words he cannot bring himself to say, Saheon is grateful that their paths intertwined once.
But this is too much, seriously. Has this man had a personality transplant in the time he was gone? If it weren’t for the visual confirmation, he would think a Darkness was impersonating him.
“If you’re in your right mind, shouldn't you say ‘Please do it. I beg of you’ first?”
“Yes. Please do it. I beg of you.”
Was this what Soleum wanted from him? Now that he’s on the receiving end, it feels like nothing. A pyrrhic victory that cost him everything long ago.
Saheon should have said something then. Soleum seemed so much larger than life, like he knew things no one knew.
Now, he stands toe to toe with Baek Saheon and begs him to do something so he can get himself killed again.
“…Forget it. Just don't do anything pointless like investigating and stay put. I’m not turning off the CCTV.” Saheon stares at him hollowly before he turns away. “I’ll be back, so don't do anything else until then. And don't use items pointlessly either. I don't like second-hand things.”
“What…?”
The words come out so easily again and the worst part is that he doesn’t even want to stop. If Soleum only knew what he’d put him through, maybe he would understand. “I’m saying don't go looking for a place to die when you can't even do anything.”
Saheon is a runaway train and the tracks are laid down past the edge of the world. Soleum is the one laying the tracks, perhaps. As long as he is there, Saheon will keep racing forward through time.
. ˳ · ˖ ✶ 𓆩 𓁺 𓆪 ✶ ˖ · ˳ .
He doesn’t think about what it means when Soleum freely shares his carefully collected insight with Assistant Manager Jin Nasol because he shouldn’t think anything. He is no one to Soleum and everything he says is a lie that must not be believed.
I was just glad to see you.
Saheon swallows a curse and starts complaining instead. Soleum doesn’t think very highly of him, so he can write it off as pettiness, instead of the concern Saheon has long suspected it is.
Isn’t he stupid, concerned for his psychotic ex-roommate, a man he doesn’t even know?
He justifies his protests that if Soleum had been the only one to skip the pill, they would have maintained a semblance of discreteness.
Soleum is the one that’s been gone for all these years. Saheon is the one that stayed at Daydream—shouldn’t his word be worth something more now? He could have at least asked for permission—it isn’t like this was easy for Saheon to do either. For that matter, he could’ve seen Soleum and looked the other way and walked right back out of the facility. He could already have reported to their headquarters that operations at the Namhae branch were fine and normal and—
“Permission?” Soleum repeats.
Saheon flinches.
Ah. The truth finds a way out, doesn’t it? He couldn’t keep his original personality back for so long.
Well, he really couldn’t have. Saheon knows that too. He just wants Soleum to be selfish.
Still, with his original personality, he wouldn’t be speaking softly now, would he?
“Like you said, I’m just a worker right now. I don’t have a way or the leisure to speak to someone from headquarters, so how on earth am I supposed to get your permission in the middle of all this?”
A paper boat would sink in the sea. The man who left this world behind left Saheon too, with no consideration for what it would mean to see him again. Really, if only it were so easy for Saheon to walk away too, he would have.
He’s never been good at letting go.
“And you don't have to worry so much about getting caught. If she was the type of person who couldn't control herself and got caught by the company, I wouldn't have spoken honestly, no matter how much we were cooperating.”
“…Ah.” Saheon looks between them, Kim Soleum and Assistant Manager Jin Nasol. “So that’s how it was for someone like me?”
I was never worth your truth, he concludes privately and it stings, but he can only hope it doesn’t show. His sister always said he face would get him into more trouble than he was worth, and he’d taken it for praise when he was younger. There’s nothing flattering about his hurt showing up now, but Soleum says nothing more and just looks back at him as he waits.
Maybe he’s gotten better at controlling himself. He’s had plenty of time to practice.
“Fine. Do as you please. It’s not like I’m the one dying.”
Soleum’s face twists and he reaches forward, almost helplessly. “Baek Saheon.”
Saheon steps back, away from his hands. The wall meets his back. Is he protesting? Saheon can’t tell what it is that he hears in Soleum’s voice, only that he does not care to decipher it now. It doesn’t matter what it is that they think of each other so long as they cooperate now.
After all, Soleum had begged him for this, hadn’t he?
“Whatever.” He exhales raggedly and tosses the schedule to him. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed and pointedly looks away as he waits.
Soleum’s eyes reading over the worker’s schedule glean with anticipation, and then recognition. Saheon knows better than to ask—clearly, the truth is only shared if deemed necessary and it was never necessary for someone like him.
He listened to him though, Soleum to Saheon. Can he let that be worth something?
If his mind were clearer, he might have complained about how no one ever gave him a chance. Before they even knew each other, Soleum had made a judgement that he was worth less because he wanted to survive.
Well, whatever. You want to survive now, don’t you? Was it below you to ask me for help?
Somehow, the thought brings him little pleasure.
The first time Saheon sees a stray dog is when he finally gets to Seoul. He never came upon strays in the village, and upon seeing the small dog quivering under the old car, he thinks that maybe one good thing came of it.
It takes him weeks to walk up to the dog without it scampering away, and months from there before the dog rests his head on his knee while Saheon sits on the curb and studies.
The jindo is the first warmth he feels after his sister.
Soleum’s back is just as warm when Saheon yanks him up through the vent. For a moment, Saheon is on fire and hurtling towards the sun, euphoric and free.
He crashes down hardly a few minutes later when they run into Jin Nasol.
“Baek, no, Section Chief Goat.”
Saheon freezes. Why is he…
“I said this before, but thank you.”
“What are you….”
“It might be better for you to go to the authorized personnel zone you were in earlier.”
“…”
“Right now… I can’t even be sure if I haven't taken it.”
This self-sacrificing freak. Is he seriously going to waste all of Saheon’s efforts like this on the suspicion that they’ve both taken the medicine? And even then, wasn’t it Soleum who tried to get people out even at the cost of his own life?
“I’m sorry for making you waste time coming all the way here. For now, we’ll try to escape as planned, so if possible, let's meet again outside—”
Saheon won’t stake his life on this, but if the agent from the Disaster Management Bureau was able to get both of them out alive, then Saheon can do this too.
“Shut up.” Saheon looks up, gritting his teeth through the anguish that washes over him in waves. The words stick to the back of his teeth and he runs over them with his tongue before he spits them out, word by word. “Convince me.”
Soleum stares at him, eyes wide and wavering. “What?”
“Convince me that I have something to gain by going with you.”
That was how Soleum treated him before, right? What’s different about them now? Just because Saheon gave up his points for that Wish Ticket—well, it doesn’t matter now if Soleum is stuck in some company branch, does it?
“…I know how to activate this branch’s old central administrative system.”
“…”
“That’s how I found out about the path we’re going to take.”
Saheon holds his breath and waits.
“So… if we use the mud wall path, maybe you could obtain special results for the audit worth negotiating with the higher-ups.”
“Understood,” he grits out. “I’ll accompany you, so shut up and just move.”
“Will you be okay—”
There’s a question Saheon has never once considered. Only one other person would ever ask him that, and she’s not here, so no one ever will. This is an exception he cannot grant anyone, not even that agent.
“Stop asking and move quickly. I said I’d go with you.”
Soleum looks at him for a moment longer. “…Alright.”
Such a hollow agreement. Saheon stalks away before he asks him something stupid, like why he turns into a compulsive liar only around him.
Of course, he turns into a psycho the second he sees the researcher too. Maybe he’s more consistent that Saheon thought, though the thought of sharing something in common with a psychotic researcher doesn’t make him feel any better.
He does regret it briefly when the music starts up again and both his escapees—companions? accomplices? Isn’t it just that he’s helping them escape?—start wavering.
And then he pulls out a whole goddamn bottle of vodka.
Seriously, does he do this on purpose? What purpose could the bottle have had in aiding an escape plan? He knew what the Darkness was and what the pill did, so why bother carrying the vodka around after that?
It’s a miracle they manage to get out of there. Saheon doesn’t believe in miracles, but he’s tired enough that he’ll chalk this one up to luck.
After all, they were due for a turn in the tides just about now.
. ˳ · ˖ ✶ 𓆩 𓁺 𓆪 ✶ ˖ · ˳ .
Seagulls greet them at the top. Saheon sits there and stretches his legs out, watching the colors scatter across the horizon at dawn.
He hasn’t been to the sea in a while. His sister had always wanted to go, said that they would make it there one day.
Noona, are you seeing this?
“Congratulations on the successful bet, Baek Saheon.”
“What, huh?”
“Success in choosing the more dangerous path. You really did get extra profit, and we escaped.”
What nonsense is this guy so sincerely spewing?
“And thanks to you, we avoided dying several times.”
Does he think…?
“Thanks for saving me.”
Baek Saheon stares at him blankly. Fine, one of them has to give first.
“How do you feel?”
It’s Soleum’s turn to stare blankly. He looks for a minute too long, and Saheon can feel the heat creeping up his cheeks. Maybe he can pass it off for the sunrise.
“Not bad.”
Well, if he’s fine, then that’s settled.
Saheon turns back to the sea and wonders what it would be like to walk in. He’s not determined to die, but perhaps there is a lesson to be learned there. The sea knows how to hold, and to not let go. It churns dark and effervescent under the moonlight, yet splashes against the beach rather meekly.
He shares a little in common with the sea.
“It’s my first time seeing Yongmeori Coast.”
He hears Soleum shuffle behind him. “You haven’t seen it before on a school trip?”
When would he have gone on a school trip to Jeju-do? Really, it’s fortunate enough that he was able to go to school. Despite the village being run by a cult, they were still in South Korea, after all, it would be impossible to not value education like that.
“I went once, and that was to Gyeongju. …It’s my first time on Jeju Island itself.”
Soleum hesitates. “Well, you’re seeing it now.”
Saheon bites back a smile. “…I guess so.”
In the briefest moment of respite, Saheon hopes he can come back one day. Not enough to spend a Wish Ticket on it, but enough that he hopes he remembers too.
. ˳ · ˖ ✶ 𓆩 𓁺 𓆪 ✶ ˖ · ˳ .
Saheon dreams of his sister and the sea, and walks up to screams like someone being boiled alive. His hand darts to his back for a second, reaching for a backpack that isn’t there, the weight of bones he no longer carries other than his own.
Soleum chokes on the bed across from him. Saheon runs over, swatting at the hands clutching his neck.
He’d said earlier that he would sort it out by grabbing chemicals from the branch, but if he’s reacting like this now, then… Soleum darts away, looking in the bathroom mirror at the sticker.
“Kim Soleum!”
“This, I think it comes intermittently….”
The pain? The sticker has a message on it, one that faintly lights up. It must be a special item Daydream uses—no wonder it seemed like they made it out all too easily.
“I have to go back, to the branch… kgh.”
Yeah, Saheon had figured as much. Jin Nasol bursts through the door in a similar state. Saheon’s heart falls.
Ah, things really couldn’t just be easy for once, could they?
“Baek Saheon.” Soleum grabs his shoulder harshly, tugging him closer. Saheon stumbles, catching himself before they both fall. “We have to go—to the branch…!”
The branch…
“Taxi. I’ll give you the money…,” he says, still looking at Baek Saheon. “I’m begging—you.”
Those words. Those fucking words. He throws them around so carelessly. Saheon shoves himself into the middle seat of the taxi—the Assistant Manager refuses to take the middle and Soleum looks pained just looking at it.
I’m not smaller than either of you or anything, Saheon grumbles to himself, nearly elbowing Jin Nasol when her knee jabs his.
By the time they get out of the taxi, Saheon is starting to wonder if he’s suffocating too. Soleum is speaking more nonsense and Jin Nasol is entirely silent, like she thinks he has a point.
A point. He’s going to rip out his carotid artery and he thinks it’s a reasonable plan?
Quite frankly, Baek Saheon has heard enough.
He grabs Soleum’s collar and yanks him forward. “Anyone could think of that kind of crap.”
What good is he for if he won’t think of the kind of plans he used to? Wasn’t his goal to get everyone and to help whoever he could?
Why, why, why does that never include himself?
“I’m telling you to come up with a surefire method. You’re good at that. You know, spouting things like there’s a way that works for everyone, and talking about strange methods!”
Soleum looks at him like he’s been hit. Saheon can’t say he wouldn’t have, had the sticker not made him look too pathetic to hit.
“There is one.”
Right. Saheon exhales slowly. Right, of course there is.
“But you might not like it.”
If he were to speak truthfully, there’s nothing about this situation that he likes. He’s been on edge ever since he saw that face, wet hair dripping over pathetic eyes. Saheon would like to be anywhere but here—but there is nowhere but here to be.
“What is it?”
“Let me add a few lines to your audit report.”
The audit report? He’s written plenty in it already and there’s probably more he could complain about, but how does that help their current situation?
“Of course,” Soleum looks at Baek Saheon, who is still holding his collar. “I’ll write it in a way where you can benefit too.”
Does this bastard only ever misunderstand him? Saheon wouldn’t submit an audit report that didn’t play in his favor in some way. He also asked Soleum to come up with a method that isn’t killing himself and reviving himself on this black sand beach.
“Now you’re talking.” He loosens his grip on his collar and jerks his chin at it. “So, how exactly do you want to write it, the report?”
It all works out better than he expects, and much faster too. Saheon sorts out the report and makes a scene about how terrible conditions were and what he went through. Really, he convinces them that the Namhae branch shouldn’t exist at all.
And with his convictions, he fixes the problem of those stickers too.
Lately, he’s been having dreams of waking up in a boiling sea to see Soleum choking at his side. If he’s particularly tired, the choking Soleum turns into a melted agent and the sea turns into the agent in turn—
There was one more matter. Assistant Manager Jin Nasol, whom Soleum thought had only been in the facility, had been missing for six months now.
At least Soleum believes him when he tells him. It’s all neatly sorted out and they can look into that later, when it’s less of an inconvenience.
He speaks lightly. “So, are there any Darknesses you want to enter? Why not take this opportunity to help extract some Dream Essence? It’s a chance to get paid without leaving a record.”
“I’d like to keep receiving the daily wage, but….”
Well, naturally. Didn’t he get pulled in here because he needed the money?
“But I’d like to be assigned Darknesses based on them not being scary, rather than efficiency.”
“Pardon?”
“To be honest… I can't handle scary things very well.”
This psychopath—does he think Saheon is that much of an idiot? It was one thing three years ago, when they were roommates and all Soleum did was terrorize him for his own entertainment—though there were times he helped him, he always said such terrible things for no reason so it canceled out—and now he thinks Saheon will believe him?
He almost laughs, settling for a derisive snort instead. “Stop joking. I told you to stop doing that stuff now.”
Really, who does he think he is? Does he think Saheon became the Section Chief and remained so naive and gullible?
“Saying psycho things won't scare me anymore. What kind of habit is it to do that knowing full well? Is this a joke?”
“No,” Soleum starts, but Saheon waves him off.
“Whatever. If you don't want to enter a Darkness, then do as you like.”
He puts himself on patrol. Saheon waits for the bureaucracy to get a move on so he can take control over the center and set things in motion. Temporary or not, if he had access to everything the branch manager would, they would at least be able to get an idea of what Daydream was truly running.
And who was behind the sudden breaches.
The more he thought about it, the less sense it made—why would they let such high grade Darknesses out like that with no proper containment? Regulations had changed a little bit after Sekwang—though Saheon suspected it was more Director Cheong’s disappearance than the disaster itself, since they still offered those faulty Wish Tickets—and tensions had never been higher between the Disaster Management Bureau and Daydream.
Saheon reads over the reports again, and looks back through the logs.
No, something isn’t adding up.
He wasn’t there though, so it’s not like he could pinpoint what was wrong.
And if Assistant Manager Jin Nasol was so sure she had only been here for two weeks, then it didn’t matter if she’d been there for six months if she wouldn’t share.
Saheon bites the inside of his cheek. He needs Soleum to look over this and see if he notices anything. He has his own suspicions, but he would like to be wrong.
The ground shakes. Saheon looks up sharply.
He would really like to be wrong.
He opens the office door and frowns at the familiar figure standing in the hallway. “Assistant Manager?”
Jin Nasol doesn’t blink. “He’s gone.”
Kim Soleum?
Throughout the facility, eerie groans fill the walls.
Saheon is a runaway train at the edge of the world and there are no tracks beneath the wheels. Saheon is burning as he falls into the sun, the bones on his back burning first, and the man that he thinks of boiling in front of his eyes.