By Zephyria 
“I can’t give you what you need. I’ve hardly had any experiences appropriate for my age. I didn’t even attend middle school properly, I dropped out of high school after only a few months, and I never even stepped foot in a university. Since I’ve been immersed in hunting Aberrations since I was fourteen, my social circle is incredibly narrow. I even lost twenty-two years of my life. If you were to erase anomalies from my existence, I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself tomorrow.”
“…….”
“Jiha. You are young, with infinite possibilities unfolding before you. I don’t want you to be tied to someone like me—someone who will die in a closed-off world—and give up those possibilities. Unlike me, you haven’t lost anything, have you?”
I wanted to ask. Why couldn’t he just open that closed-off world? But the moment my lips parted, I already knew the answer. Jeil Heon’s firmly set eyes were already conveying it.
That he was too old to change, and that he possessed no will to do so.
…I felt a poignant realization that I, too, would not be able to change him. It was simply impossible. I could not fling open the door to the world he had locked himself into since the age of fourteen. No one would be able to.
A hot surge of sorrow filled my eyes, and soon my vision blurred. Hot droplets rolled down my cheeks, leaving small traces on the windowsill. Something heavy surged within my chest, but it could make no sound, flowing only as tears.
It was the end of my first love.
* * *
A boy, holding a takeout coffee cup in one hand, became a transparent figure like a Spirit and slipped deep into the Water Abnormality Worship Management Bureau. He avoided the incantation circles that barred the approach of Aberrations not carrying the ‘real’ Ji-hwan, evaded the CCTVs recording Corruption Levels in real-time, and headed toward the deepest part of the building.
Eventually, the boy reached the spot right in front of where the Sealed One of the Ten Thousand Waves Flute slept. After staring at the door for a long time, the figure vanished as if extinguished, leaving no trace behind.
On Baegundae of Bukhansan Mountain, a man dressed in a black hanbok stood at the top of the flagpole where the national flag flew. The hikers didn’t even notice the man’s presence, continuing to chat happily or take photos.
With his hands behind his back, the man’s gaze was fixed toward the south. Normally, the building of the Water Abnormality Worship Management Bureau should have been faintly visible in the distance, but the barrier of the Ten Thousand Waves Flute blocked not only human sight but also the gaze of Aberrations. After some time had passed, opaque smoke in the shape of a boy drifted in from the south and seeped into one of his ten tails.
The corners of the man Mae-gu’s mouth twisted slightly.
「To think the barrier would open so easily, even using the bead given to that child as a medium. You’ve grown quite weak, old monster.」
It was only natural, as the life of the Prince who sealed the Ten Thousand Waves Flute must be reaching its limit. Clicking his tongue, Mae-gu recalled the image of the Prince—who was not a child back then—the last time he had seen him.
〈The dynasty has already abandoned its people four times. Though the people are most precious, followed by the state, and the monarch is the lightest, they were abandoned; even the great achievement of King Taejo, who rose resolutely to save the people suffering from the malpractices of the previous dynasty (Goryeo), was cast aside. And yet, you ministers tell Me to also abandon the people! The true foundation of the nation is not Me, but the commoners of this land!〉
The country collapsed, and those who harbored an unquenchable flame exiled themselves to Shanghai, Manchuria, and the Americas. Anomalies that crossed the Genkai Sea did not hesitate to invade palaces, leaving the Otherworld in utter chaos.
The Bureau had urged the Prince to flee overseas as well, but his stance was firm. In response to the Prince’s resolve never to abandon his people and run away, the Ten Thousand Waves Flute responded, manifesting as a vast barrier that enveloped nearly half of Hanyang. It was a barrier that not only kept them safe from anomalies but also allowed those resisting the Japanese Empire to hide temporarily from the eyes of the Governor-General’s office.
Compared to that, the current barrier was as flimsy as a sheet of paper.
Sealing and isolating the Ten Thousand Waves Flute is not possible through will alone. The thirty-five years spent maintaining the purity of the domain without a single moment’s lapse had nearly exhausted the Prince’s Life Force and Vital Energy. Even with periodic sleep cycles, recovery would be difficult. Besides, had the Prince not already exceeded his natural lifespan?
The reason the Ten Thousand Waves Flute had not yet moved to a new Sealed One was likely because the Prince was desperately clinging to it, burning through his last remaining life force.
The Ten Thousand Waves Flute was not always like this. The anomaly, crafted from the desperate longing for peace and stability of people who had suffered through long years of war, sought only a single price from the one who sealed it in order to bring widespread peace to humanity.
Until that incident 600 years ago.
Recalling the blood-soaked night where a son pointed a sword at his father and slaughtered his own blood-related brothers, and the woman who lost everything that night, Mae-gu muttered bitterly.
「Palace Master, are you still not satisfied? The resentment and hatred binding you are so deep that even I can no longer feel you.」
“Wow, I look like a steamed bun…”
Looking in the bathroom mirror, I could only sigh. My swollen face was the textbook look of someone who had spent the night crying. I didn’t want to act like a child by skipping work because of a heartbreak, but I absolutely could not go out with this face. If people asked what happened yesterday, it would unintentionally keep bringing Jeil Heon back to mind.
To bring down the swelling, I washed my face with cold water and even used ice to rub the swollen areas.
I was dumped.
I hadn’t expected him to accept my feelings immediately, but I was rejected without a shred of hope. As if the excitement I felt while preparing my confession and the boldness I had when I fought a mental battle with myself after first confessing were all lies, my inner self was strangely calm.
It felt as if I didn’t want to think about anything at all, or perhaps so many thoughts were overflowing that I felt empty instead.
‘…He shouldn’t have even been nice to me.’
He was terribly kind, even up until the moment he rejected me softly yet firmly. Would he have rejected me if I were around his age? The answer was easy. He would have. No matter what conditions I assumed, the absolute premise that his world and mine were different would not change.
As I ruminated on it, my eyes began to sting again, and Yoo Jiha quickly shook his head. Other thoughts. Other thoughts.
But no matter how much I tried to steer my mind elsewhere, the end of my consciousness always led back to him. Yoo Jiha eventually succumbed. Scrolling through the photo album on his phone, it was full of pictures of him.
Even just looking at a phone, things must be completely different from twenty-two years ago, yet he showed no sign of being particularly surprised or fascinated. If I hadn’t taken the initiative to take photos of Jeil Heon, who used a state-of-the-art smartphone exactly like an old feature phone, he wouldn’t have left a single common photo on his device.
Photos of Jeil Heon, whose awkward expression never quite faded whether they were at a restaurant, a cafe, the lounge, or the garden, slowly scrolled across the screen. Yoo Jiha closed his eyes tight and deleted every photo he had taken with him.
Unlike photos that are deleted with a single operation, memories cannot be erased all at once. How wonderful would it be if the heart could be cut away this easily? Then I wouldn’t have to act so awkward in front of him.
Lacking motivation, Yoo Jiha stared blankly at the ceiling in a room where the air conditioner wasn’t even on. In my heart, I wanted to take a leave of absence, but I had already submitted the supporting documents and the application for concurrent employment permission to the personnel department. If I didn’t think about the aftermath, I could just hand in my resignation, but I didn’t want to become such an irresponsible person. Moreover, the work at the Bureau was interesting, and I felt a sense of reward in saving people.
Above all, I didn’t want to erase Jeil Heon’s memories by leaving the Bureau. Even though I was rejected, liking him is a precious memory and a sincere feeling that I do not wish to deny. Naturally, I don’t want him to be isolated.
Therefore, I had to maintain a relationship that wasn’t awkward moving forward. For his sake, and for my own.
Yoo Jiha practiced his words and refined his expression over and over. By the time the swelling had subsided significantly, he sounded reasonably natural.
It was time for Jeil Heon to get off work.