By Zephyria 
Unable to grasp the situation at first, Yoon Jun-young frowned as if he were in a dream, then curled up with a shiver as the air hitting his skin felt cold.
He started to push himself up halfway to pull the blanket over him, only then realizing he was naked, but he tilted his head, unable to immediately comprehend the situation of having this man before him.
“……..”
Kwon Kang-hee looked down at Yoon Jun-young, frozen and motionless, while Jang Ui-geon entered the bedroom behind him.
“Kang-hee, why are you suddenly here at this hour—”
Jang Ui-geon began to speak in a low, displeased voice, but he couldn’t finish his sentence.
A heavy, loud thud echoed. And with an even louder crash, Jang Ui-geon, recoiling backward, slammed hard against the wall.
“………!”
“Get out.”
It was a terrifying voice. Kwon Kang-hee glared at Jang Ui-geon with bluish eyes, looking as if he would tear out his throat if he didn’t leave this instant.
Silently wiping the corner of his mouth, Jang Ui-geon glanced at Kwon Kang-hee after seeing the blood on the back of his hand. Before the expressionless Jang Ui-geon, Kwon Kang-hee spat through gritted teeth.
“Did you enjoy just watching for so long, and now you think you’ve finally gotten your hands on him?”
“…..Yes.”
The moment the words ended, a cracking sound came from Kwon Kang-hee’s jaw, and his face was whipped to the side.
“I’m only just about to get my hands on him. You’re the one who should get out.”
Kwon Kang-hee staggered a couple of steps, clutching his jaw. His lips twisted. Did I send that bastard here for this? A low mutter, like a monologue, flowed from his lips. And then.
Grabbing Jang Ui-geon by the collar, Kwon Kang-hee swung his fist. Jang Ui-geon likewise struck Kwon Kang-hee’s face with immense force.
Terrifying sounds erupted. As if two ferocious beasts that could not coexist had encountered each other in one place, eerie noises mixed with shouts beat against the air.
“……..”
The scene where curses, screams, and the sounds of impact were horribly intertwined did not last long. Seo Chi-young, who had paused outside the room with a blanket, instinctively intervened, throwing the blanket over Kwon Kang-hee.
Both Kwon Kang-hee, whose vision was momentarily blocked, and Jang Ui-geon, who had been pulling back his arm to swing another punch, stopped moving. In the middle of them, Seo Chi-young wore a troubled expression, appearing belatedly flustered.
Kwon Kang-hee violently threw off the blanket from his head and paused the moment he saw Seo Chi-young standing right in front of him. Staring intently at Seo Chi-young, seemingly bewildered to see someone he hadn’t expected at all, he muttered, “What is this?” and grabbed Seo Chi-young by the collar. However, before his light fist could even graze Seo Chi-young, Jang Ui-geon suddenly lunged forward fiercely and tore Kwon Kang-hee’s hand away from Seo Chi-young.
“….Don’t touch him!”
A voice so rough it made one’s heart freeze erupted in Seo Chi-young’s ear. Kwon Kang-hee, startled, shifted his gaze to Jang Ui-geon and was pushed back a couple of steps by his grip.
“What the hell is that—”
But cutting off Kwon Kang-hee’s words, a short, cold voice pierced through the air.
“What is going on? What are you all doing here?”
Beside them, Yoon Jun-young, who seemed to have woken up instantly, stood his ground between them, looking back and forth with wide-open eyes. Standing with unstable steps as his fever had not yet subsided, Yoon Jun-young looked at them alternately, a hint of bewilderment in his deep blue eyes.
However, he didn’t seem to have forgotten how he returned home, as there was no look of surprise upon seeing Jang Ui-geon and Seo Chi-young. After glancing over them, Yoon Jun-young’s gaze finally landed on Kwon Kang-hee. His eyes, which seemed to swell slightly for a moment, soon sank into a cold stillness.
“Why are you here?”
“……….”
Kwon Kang-hee did not answer. Under his intense glare, his clenched jaw tightened. Yoon Jun-young’s pupils seemed to waver for a moment, but he soon averted his gaze.
“I believe you said you had to leave early tomorrow morning because the wedding is in the morning. Go back. You said you’d never appear before my eyes again, just as I wanted. Or was the celebration not enough? —Congratulations on your wedding, Kwon Kang-hee. There, now go.”
Spatting the words out as if grinding his teeth, Yoon Jun-young turned around. He didn’t even spare a glance toward Kwon Kang-hee, as if he didn’t want to see his face any longer.
Kwon Kang-hee, who had been staring only at Yoon Jun-young without breaking eye contact, curled his lips upward at some point. With a face where it was impossible to tell if he was smiling or angry, he spoke softly.
“Wedding? There’s no such thing. Ever.”
Those were his final words.
As if he had nothing more to say, Kwon Kang-hee turned his head. He then grabbed Seo Chi-young, who was standing a couple of steps away, by the shoulder and dragged him out.
“Ah..!”
Dragged toward the entrance by a grip so strong it felt as if his shoulder would crumble, Seo Chi-young was pulled away while Jang Ui-geon, behind them, bared his teeth, his expression shifting.
“Let go of him..!”
However, without even looking back at Jang Ui-geon, who had struck his face, Kwon Kang-hee dragged Seo Chi-young to the entrance and threw him out the door. Immediately after, as he turned to face Jang Ui-geon, who was about to grab his arm, he drove a fist into his stomach.
“………!”
By the time Jang Ui-geon could pull himself up, he too had already been thrown out the front door.
As soon as Kwon Kang-hee pushed Jang Ui-geon out, he slammed the door shut. But just before it closed, Jang Ui-geon grabbed the doorknob.
Through the gap of the door, which remained open by barely a hand’s breadth, Jang Ui-geon faced Kwon Kang-hee. A bitter light flickered across his fierce face.
“Don’t touch Jun-young. Don’t make things harder for him anymore. …….Please.”
A sigh was caught in those final words. They were friends who had known each other for a long time. Both of them.
But at those words, Kwon Kang-hee’s lips distorted.
“Don’t touch him…?”
“……..”
“Do you know how much I endured so that I wouldn’t touch him? Because I knew he shouldn’t be caught by someone like me, do you know how much I held back? You don’t know. Every time you were with him, how anxious I was, how angry I was—how I felt like I was going crazy. If you knew even a fraction of it, you would never be able to say such a thing.”
With that, Kwon Kang-hee pulled the door shut without hesitation. As if he had broken some internal seal, or perhaps as if he had simply given up.
Through the closing gap of the door, Yoon Jun-young was visible. He was staring intently at Kwon Kang-hee’s retreating back as if possessed by something, but before it could be confirmed what expression eventually appeared on his face, the door slammed shut.
The door, closing with a heavy sound, did not open again.
In front of the closed door, Jang Ui-geon did not move for a long while.
The hand that had reflexively gripped the doorknob when the door closed momentarily paused, loosening the strength it used to pull. And then, the door closed completely.
Jang Ui-geon stood silently for a long time, frozen as if he were a statue while still holding the doorknob. He didn’t knock on the door, nor did he ring the doorbell.
Without even calling out a name, he remained in silence, looking down at his hand gripping the knob.
“…….”
Seo Chi-young stood silently beside him.
What words were being exchanged inside the door, what was happening. What he was thinking.
Seo Chi-young had no way of knowing. However, there was one thing that Seo Chi-young knew, just as he suspected the other man knew.
The one-sided feelings Jang Ui-geon had harbored had come to an end. No, perhaps they hadn’t ended in his heart. But those feelings had lost their destination. The door that had been open just a crack at the end of the dead-end street where he stood had finally closed.
Whether he would open that door again, or simply gaze at it vacantly. And if he gazed, just how long he would do so.
Seo Chi-young stood there, watching Jang Ui-geon, who remained motionless with his head bowed as if in prayer.
…He thought it would be nice if he could pray too.
The thought suddenly occurred to him.
That he wouldn’t hurt for too long. That he could find the one thing he desperately desired in his life.
“……..”
Suddenly, Seo Chi-young huddled. The wind mixed with rain coming through the open window of the hallway was chilly. A small cough escaped him.
Only then did Jang Ui-geon lift his head. Seeing Seo Chi-young cough twice in a small way, he let go of the door and walked toward him.
“Are you okay? It’s cold.”
Jang Ui-geon, approaching and speaking to Seo Chi-young, looked unexpectedly calm. Although his voice was a bit more subdued than usual, it was quiet and composed. It was as if the terrifyingly fierce aura he had emitted while fighting the man inside just moments ago had been a lie.
Seo Chi-young looked up at Jang Ui-geon, who was gazing down at him with concern, and murmured.
“….You look colder than I do, Ui-geon-ssi.”
Jang Ui-geon, who had been kicked out without even a jacket, seemed to only then realize he was shirtless; he looked down at himself and shrugged nonchalantly.
“Ah, this is fine. I don’t get cold easily, so I often get by with just a cotton shirt even in the dead of winter.”
“…It’s raining, too.”
Jang Ui-geon looked up at the sky outside the window and then glanced back at the door for a moment. However, he turned away, seemingly having no intention of knocking to call the people inside.
“Shall we buy an umbrella at the convenience store and head back?”
With those words, Jang Ui-geon began to walk. After moving a few steps away from Seo Chi-young, who was standing as if nailed to the spot, he looked back curiously.
“Why aren’t you coming?”
“…No..”
Seo Chi-young hesitated for a moment. He looked at the door of Yoon Jun-young’s house once more. Even he, who had no reason to regret that door at all, felt it weighing on his mind.
However, Jang Ui-geon gestured to him, saying, “Hurry, come along,” and Seo Chi-young began to walk. Jang Ui-geon waited for Seo Chi-young to approach before moving again, and for a while, there was no conversation between them.
After looking at the rain falling quite heavily in front of the apartment entrance, Jang Ui-geon left only the words, “Wait here for a moment,” and dashed to the convenience store right in front of the main gate. After he handed the umbrella he bought to Seo Chi-young, silence continued between them until they reached Seo Chi-young’s shop, walking along the rainy night road where almost no one was seen.
The sound of rain. The splashing sound of water with every step. The pitter-patter of raindrops falling on the umbrella.
Seo Chi-young silently watched Jang Ui-geon, who was walking three steps ahead. That broad back, revealed without hesitation, had forever lost the hot body temperature it had carried when he had been carried on that back up this road.
“……”
He must have slowed his pace without realizing it. Before he knew it, the distance had increased to six or seven steps, and Jang Ui-geon looked back. He waited for Seo Chi-young to get closer, and once the distance narrowed to three steps, he turned and walked again.
During the ten-minute walk to the shop, Jang Ui-geon walked ahead in silence, occasionally looking back at Seo Chi-young. Whenever he looked back, Seo Chi-young would quicken his pace to close the gap that had opened.
In the meantime, the shop came into view in the distance.
In the dark alley where other shops had already closed and no people were passing by, only that place was emitting a white light.
Jang Ui-geon, who Seo Chi-young thought would go straight back to where the car was parked, entered the shop naturally. Seo Chi-young followed him in and first handed a dry towel to Jang Ui-geon. Although he had used an umbrella, the raindrops that had flown onto his bare skin would have stripped away his body heat.
“Thank you,” Jang Ui-geon said as he took the towel and dried himself, pulling up a chair to sit.
“Come to think of it, I left without even locking up the shop.. I’m sorry. I was out of it earlier. Did you happen to lose anything?”
Jang Ui-geon asked, looking around the neatly organized interior of the shop. Seo Chi-young felt around under the counter, remained silent for a moment, and then shook his head.
“No. This isn’t the kind of shop that has things worth losing.”
As Seo Chi-young answered with a clumsy smile, Jang Ui-geon nodded simply. Seo Chi-young, who had been lost in thought while looking down at his feet, looked up upon hearing the sound of a low click of the tongue. Jang Ui-geon, who had been drying his torso and roughly wiping his face with the dry towel, was frowning, having perhaps touched his torn lip the wrong way.
In the chaos at Yoon Jun-young’s house and while walking through the dark alley afterward, he hadn’t noticed, but seeing him under the lights inside the shop, Jang Ui-geon was a mess. His lip was torn, and the area around his temple was swollen and faintly bruised. The bruise would likely be very prominent by tomorrow.
Seo Chi-young hurriedly dampened a towel with water and approached Jang Ui-geon. He applied the wet towel to the spot on Jang Ui-geon’s mouth where blood had dried messily as the man sat there and looked up.
“Ouch, ouch..”
Jang Ui-geon’s face contorted the moment the wet towel touched his mouth. Seo Chi-young silently pressed and wiped his torn lip, and also pressed the wet towel against his palm and elbow, where the skin had been scraped after hitting or being pushed against the cement wall of the hallway. After complaining “Ouch, it hurts” once or twice at first, Jang Ui-geon eventually fell silent.
The pain wouldn’t be from such scraped wounds or a torn lip. The place that hurt more severely would be so painful that he wouldn’t even be able to make a sound. It was a heart that had been festering for years, perhaps decades.
“……..”
Seo Chi-young thoroughly washed the towel, which was stained with blood and dust, in the sink, wrapped it around his hand again, and then sat down silently a short distance away. Jang Ui-geon remained silent, staring blankly at the hand wrapped in the wet towel.
It was a night where the long hours were coming to an end. In a couple of hours, the day would break, but on a rainy day like this, the sun likely wouldn’t rise. It was a dawn that arrived darkly and quietly.
The silence, which seemed as if it would last forever, was broken by a short sigh. Jang Ui-geon lifted the hand wrapped in the wet towel, slowly stroking his mouth and cheek while grimacing. He muttered, “Ouch…..” and when his eyes met Seo Chi-young’s, he clicked his tongue and murmured.
“That guy Kang-hee, his punch is really strong. I’m not exaggerating.”
Seo Chi-young didn’t know what to say, so he just blinked for a moment and nodded awkwardly. Jang Ui-geon sighed.
“He just looks like that, doesn’t he? Fierce and rough. He’s always been that way. Blunt, not good with words, and if he’s misunderstood, he just keeps his mouth shut. If Jun-young and I hadn’t played with him, he probably wouldn’t have had a single friend. He only knew how to blindly swing his fists and push forward, without knowing how to flexibly avoid things.”
The voice that began as a mutter grew slightly louder in the middle. Even after finishing his sentence, he seemed to have more to say, but when he met the gaze of Seo Chi-young, who was blinking his large eyes, he shut his mouth. After staring at Seo Chi-young for a moment, he continued as if sighing.
“That guy really always misses the things that are actually important. Still, it’s a relief that he seems to have gotten it right this time. …..Still, to hit a friend like this without any warning, damn, see if I ever help him again. He can just ask Jun-young to look after him.”
“……..”
“Jun-young will take good care of him. He seems indifferent to those around him, but he’s surprisingly devoted to the people he considers close. He doesn’t look like it at first glance, but it’s surprising, isn’t it?”
Jang Ui-geon gave a faint smile. Seo Chi-young nodded silently.
He knew. Yoon Jun-young was a kind person, albeit somewhat clumsy. There wasn’t a single lie in his answer when asked if he disliked Seo Chi-young. He was a person who deserved to be loved. By Kwon Kang-hee, and by Jang Ui-geon.
“Hmm.., I’m a bit hungry. …..You were just about to close the shop when you left, right? I guess I can’t ask for stir-fried tripe right now..?”
Muttering as if to himself, Jang Ui-geon glanced at Seo Chi-young with smiling eyes. Seo Chi-young, who had been sitting quietly, widened his eyes slightly and soon stood up.
Taking ingredients out of the refrigerator, he lights the grill. Watching the grill quickly begin to sizzle and send up plumes of steam, Jang Ui-geon sat with his chin resting on his hand, a habitual, beaming smile clinging to his face.
“That guy Kang-hee… you’d have to date him for about a hundred years to barely start figuring him out, but he has a kind side. Usually, he hides it under that desolate face of his, so it’s hard to tell. …But people’s eyes are actually quite accurate; even when it doesn’t seem like it, everyone knows. Who’s a decent guy and who isn’t. That’s why people end up staying by his side. Take me, for example—even though I’m hurting like crazy right now, I can’t bring myself to stop being his friend.”
Though the place that actually hurt wasn’t there, Jang Ui-geon rubbed his slapped cheek. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he asked Seo Chi-young.
“Come to think of it, Chi-young, you seem to have a good eye for people sometimes. What do you think? What do you think Kang-hee will do?”
Seo Chi-young paused the spatula he was using to stir the gopchang for a moment, then tilted his head ambiguously and murmured.
“Uh… I don’t know. …I’m not very good at reading people.”
“Haha, but you knew I liked Jun-young.”
Seo Chi-young averted his gaze from Jang Ui-geon, who laughed and spoke as if it were nothing, and silently lowered his head.
That was because he liked him. Because he was always watching him, he couldn’t help but know. Who he looked at while laughing cheerfully, how much sincerity was mixed into the words he threw out as jokes, asking to just date him, and whether the sun-like smile he wore even at this moment was actually happy or not.
Seo Chi-young placed the plate of gopchang in front of Jang Ui-geon. Despite saying he was hungry, he remained lost in thought without even picking up his chopsticks.
Then, at some point, he suddenly spoke.
“I’ve known those friends since we were very young. I’ve gone to school with Kang-hee since elementary school, and Jun-young lived in the same neighborhood. It wasn’t that we all knew each other back then; I knew Kang-hee at school and played with Jun-young at home, but we all started hanging out together once we entered the same middle school. We’ve stayed together as a trio ever since.”
Jang Ui-geon picked up his chopsticks. However, he only aimlessly poked at the plate a few times.
“When I was young, I was a bit of a precocious child. It makes sense—my family was well-off, I was smart, and the adults were always busy and rarely home; it was the perfect environment for a spoiled brat to emerge. Moreover, as is often the case with busy parents, mine were always busy and perhaps felt sorry for not taking care of their children, so they tried to make up for it with money. They let me do whatever I wanted. In an environment like that, it would be strange not to turn out crooked. But considering that, didn’t I grow up quite wholesomely?”
Jang Ui-geon looked at Seo Chi-young and gave a smiling squint. Seo Chi-young mumbled a “Yes” and gave a barely perceptible nod, causing Jang Ui-geon to burst into laughter. “You sound like you’re saying no; there aren’t many people as wholesome as me,” he said in a cheerful, joking voice. But that cheerful voice slowly faded.
“It’s because Jun-young pulled me along. Whenever I tried to go astray even a little, he always blocked my path. Every part of me that is a ‘proper human being’ was made that way by Jun-young. Since we grew up together from a young age, we were almost always together.”
Jang Ui-geon fell silent. Quietly setting down the chopsticks in his hand, he remained silent as if lost in thought before speaking softly.
“Chi-young, you said it before. That everyone has a place assigned to them.”
Seo Chi-young looked at him and nodded after a brief pause.
“I, for one, couldn’t figure it out. Where I should be, what I should do, who I should lean on, where my place was. I knew for sure that the place I’m standing now wasn’t it, and I felt like there was a comfortable, cozy place somewhere else, but I couldn’t find it. No matter where I was or what I did. Even when I was young. …….Even now.”
It was the first confession of anxiety Seo Chi-young had ever heard from Jang Ui-geon. While he always possessed unwavering confidence in the things he encountered in life without a shred of anxiety, the instability of his own existence flickered through those casual words.
Somewhere other than here.
He felt as though his place existed. He didn’t know what kind of place it was, but he felt certain there was a spot designated just for him.
A place that filled what he lacked.
A place where everything was satisfied—where the intermittent thirst and the empty void deep in his chest that never went away could be filled.
Where could that place be?
……Perhaps it was never given to him in the first place.
“Whenever Jun-young saw me trying to take the wrong path or go astray, he always stood in my way. I didn’t know it then, but looking back, the direction he pointed was always right. So… I felt that if I were with Jun-young, I would reach the place where I belonged. No, I thought the place where he was was where I belonged.”
Jang Ui-geon stopped his quiet story. He chewed over the longing and precious memories that remained only in their minds—or perhaps, only in his.
Seo Chi-young looked at Jang Ui-geon and then dropped his gaze. Noticing a bit of sauce on the tip of his index finger, he rubbed it off with his thumb. He pulled the cooling gopchang back and poured it onto the grill.
Stirring the heating grill, Seo Chi-young added just a bit more alcohol, water, and seasoning. Only the searing sound of shhh echoed in the quiet air.
It was a feeling that had persisted for over twenty years. Perhaps it was Jang Ui-geon’s first love. The heart that had confessed like a joke from the position of a closest friend for over twenty years had finally lost its way today.
“…….”
Twenty-some years. It was a feeling that had lasted more than twice as long as the time Seo Chi-young had known him. Seo Chi-young had met Jang Ui-geon over a decade ago. Even then, he had only watched him for a few years. But Jang Ui-geon had been watching him from the side for over twenty years. Today, that heart received the notification that it had nowhere left to go.
“……It would be nice if it were decided from the start that the person I like likes me back.”
Then many of the world’s hardships would disappear. Without realizing it, Seo Chi-young must have murmured it aloud. Jang Ui-geon looked up at Seo Chi-young. However, the smile soon vanished from his face, and instead, his brow furrowed slightly. A single drop fell onto the grill, where the moisture had vanished and only the smell of stir-fried gopchang remained, making a shhh sound.
“Why are you crying, Chi-young?”
Jang Ui-geon spoke as if it were absurd. Seo Chi-young mumbled “Uh,” and rubbed his eyes. Then he looked flustered, stammering, “Uh, uh.”
“Some green onion got in my eye…”
“There’s no green onion in gopchang.”
“I mince a little bit of the whites when making the sauce.”
Jang Ui-geon looked at Seo Chi-young with a suspicious expression. The face that had been smiling calmly until a moment ago was gone, and he frowned as if his mood had suddenly soured.
“Don’t cry. I don’t like that.”
Jang Ui-geon might have thought he was crying out of pity. A faint trace of genuine displeasure tinged his voice.
Seo Chi-young didn’t know what to do, then instinctively reached out and rubbed the corner of Jang Ui-geon’s eye, saying, “I really did.” Feeling the other man’s eyes widen slightly in surprise through his fingertips, he startled himself and quickly withdrew his hand.
“…….. Ah…. damn it…”
After a moment of silence, a curse leaked from Jang Ui-geon’s lips. He frowned deeply and brought his hand to his eye. Soon, tears began to fall from his eyes in droplets. Clicking his tongue softly, Jang Ui-geon took the wet towel Seo Chi-young quickly handed him and covered his eyes. As Seo Chi-young also wiped his own eyes with a towel, he thought the situation—two men both crying—was somehow foolish. But then he thought it didn’t matter. If only the lump in their hearts could flow out even a little this way.
But the green onion was potent. Seo Chi-young, who had rubbed his eyes properly, shed tears until the tip of his nose turned red, and Jang Ui-geon, who had recovered quickly, stared at Seo Chi-young in disbelief with reddened eyes, holding the towel in one hand.
“I-I’m sorr—”
As Seo Chi-young apologized clumsily in a wet voice, Jang Ui-geon looked as if he wanted to say something but instead let out a dissatisfied sigh. However, the voice that opened was fortunately slightly softened.
“I’m telling you, I really don’t like crying at times like this. I had no intention of crying.”
“…I, ……I’m the same…”
“It’s not convincing at all when you say that with red eyes, a red nose, and a red face,” Jang Ui-geon muttered, clicking his tongue. Then, as if a thought occurred to him, his expression cleared and he stared blankly at Seo Chi-young. Watching him soak the towel in cold water to wipe his eyes again, Jang Ui-geon looked him over with a subtle gaze, started to say something, but then shut his mouth again.
Jang Ui-geon sat there quietly and waited without a word until Seo Chi-young’s eyes calmed down, and Seo Chi-young sat before him with stiff, reddened eyes.
“Your eyes are as big as a calf’s…”
The words murmured with a sigh no longer held any trace of displeasure or dissatisfaction; there was only a faint, absurd chuckle.
How much time had passed? Around the time the redness had almost vanished from Seo Chi-young’s face, Jang Ui-geon—who had been leaning against the wall in silence, gazing outside at the endless rain—murmured calmly.
“I’m sorry. I said I’d take your side, but it ended before we even got to a situation where I could. If something like that happens next time, I’ll take your side then.”
Without even looking at Seo Chi-young, as if whispering to himself, Jang Ui-geon murmured and then fell silent. He simply continued to gaze outside stoically.
It ended before we even got to a situation where I could.
Seo Chi-young’s heart throbbed and tightened.
At this moment, Jang Ui-geon was saying it. That it was over.
It had been a feeling that lasted a long time. He himself said that the path was completely blocked and that feeling had nowhere left to go.
It wasn’t that someone else thought so or advised him so; Jang Ui-geon had reached the conclusion himself.
Seo Chi-young lowered his head. “Yes, thank you,” he replied to his words, long after the fact.
The end comes unexpectedly at some point, or even if it was vaguely anticipated, it arrives with a suddenness that feels hollow. No matter how much time passes before facing that end—or rather, the longer the time takes—the end eventually settles into place softly, as if it weren’t an end at all.
As if it weren’t the end but would continue forward. Yet, while standing firm and insisting that it would never continue.
And on the night when the rain began to fall late, they met the time when something that had lasted a long time came to an end.