Se.mo.byeol.

One winter, my lady passed away. I couldn't even cry out loud. I had no right to do so.



The yard and inner quarters, which had been bustling with the young lady's funeral, became quiet only after the sun set.



But none of those who came truly mourned the young lady's death. They had all come to see her family and perhaps even to establish a connection.











The night deepened, and everything seemed untroubled. The moon rose crimson, but my heart was empty, filled only with emptiness and loneliness.




"My lady, the heavens are truly heartless. To take such a young life on such a bright moonlit day."




It was a long time ago that I truly followed the young lady. So, a long time ago, when I was five years old, my parents were falsely accused and died in prison.



When I suddenly became the child of a sinner and was crying with no way to make a living, the lady took me in.



The lady treated me without any prejudice, thinking I was the child of a sinner. From then on, I decided to follow her. The lady loved me very much, and I followed her in return.



When I later heard from the doctor that the lady was sick, I felt as if my heart was breaking. But I didn't even show it in front of the lady. After all, the lady must have been the one who had the hardest time.



After the lady got sick, I took care of her even more. To me, she meant the world to me.





Then one day, when the lady passed away, I doubted my eyes. It felt like the world was falling apart and I wanted to deny it.



I shook the lady and called her, but she could not open her eyes again.





I suddenly got scared.





‘If you are not here, who will protect me now?’



I was sad, but at the same time, I felt resentful of myself for being so selfish. In the face of the lady's death, I felt so pitiful and guilty that I tried to save only my own life, so I ran away wherever my feet took me.





I was so ashamed. Was I even human? The lady had taken me in, and I felt like I'd betrayed her kindness.





The moon had risen, and we finally stopped in a place rarely visited by human footsteps. It was the place the young lady always went to whenever she wanted to think alone or be alone with others.





This is a lake bathed in moonlight, a veranda where a gentle breeze blows, and wildflowers blooming haphazardly and untended. If this place seems so desolate today, am I the one who's gone crazy?





Contrary to my expectation that there would be no one there, there was already someone there, blankly staring at the moon reflected on the lake.





I waited for him to leave. But when it was past midnight and he still hadn't left, I decided to go in.





I thought it would be dark anyway so he wouldn't be able to see me. When I got closer and saw him from the side, his expression was somewhat empty and sad.





Judging from his attire, he seemed to be a nobleman, and the bottles of alcohol scattered around him and the smell of alcohol emanating from him gave an idea of ​​his condition.



Although it was a very cold day, seeing his thin clothes reminded me of the lady and gave him a blanket.







“Take it. The weather is getting colder.”







After hearing what I said, he burst out laughing and said this.







“No matter how cold and bitter the weather may be, can it be more bitter than the heart of someone who has lost a lover?”







I could tell from his answer that he was the lady's lover.





When I was very young, on the day I first met you, I saw him next to you. He often came to this house to see you.





Then, while he was unable to visit her due to family circumstances, she passed away. It had been a very long time since he had been unable to visit her due to family circumstances.





While I was thinking about him, he asked me.







“Who are you to be here? No one is allowed to enter or leave this place anymore.”







At his words, I could no longer deny the young lady's death. In fact, I knew. Wasn't I the one who knew best?





I was just avoiding her because I was afraid of her death. I still couldn't believe it, and I was a little disappointed in him for accepting it so easily.





"You came here for the same reason, didn't you? If you ask who I am, it's that person I miss so much I can't let go."





He bit his lower lip hard at my answer. Only then, looking at his expression, could I tell that he, too, still couldn't let go of the young lady.



“Do you know the lady?”



I sat down next to him and answered.





“Yes, I know. Because you were my benefactor and my world.”





I gazed at the moon in the sky. Its brightness, even brighter in the cold season, reminded me of a lady. After a brief silence, I spoke first.





“Do you know why I became a young lady?”





He shook his head slightly at my question.





"I don't know."





“Originally, my world was my parents. But my parents passed away early and I was left alone.



"It was you, Miss, who took me in back then. Until then, I thought you were like the sun. Until I saw today's moon."





Perhaps it was because it had been so long since anyone had remembered and remembered the young lady. He continued, sharing a story he had kept to himself, never telling anyone else.





“It was only after you passed away that I finally realized that you were a world where even the moon existed.



“Because you always lowered your light to give rest to those who need it, and become a light to those who want to keep walking.”





I looked at him with a bitter expression. My bitterness filled my heart with feelings I couldn't express—resentment, longing, or emptiness.





"Actually, I'm a selfish person. Having you by my side is probably the luckiest thing I'll ever have in my life."





As the moon was covered by clouds and it became dark, I thought about my world.





I still felt like everything was my fault. Even the deaths of my parents and my wife seemed like tragedies that were caused by me.





I resented the world that went on as if nothing had happened and the people around me who didn't have a single sad expression on their faces.





In my head, voices of resentment against my parents and my wife echoed. I knew it wasn't true, but I couldn't easily shake them off.





My vision was blurry and my hands were shaking more and more. I was so scared. I thought it was really my fault. I thought they really would blame me.





And I couldn't forget the words because I was afraid that I would be ruined again because they, who were my world, had collapsed. I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out well.





After a long while of silence, he spoke.





“There is something my teacher once said. He said that everyone blames and blames themselves when faced with the death of someone precious.



But, he said, the reason a person can close their eyes is because they believe that the person will be able to let go.”





He, who had avoided eye contact throughout the conversation, looked at me and offered a small consolation.





"I don't know your reasons, so I can't say anything more, but don't blame yourself too much. I think that's what he wants, too."





The comfort he offered felt like a hand reassuring me, telling me it was okay when I was blaming myself. I cried and cried for a long time. Still, I was grateful that he waited silently without asking questions.





‘If the lady were here, she would be truly… happy, right?’





I tried to erase the questions floating in my head and wiped away my tears as I spoke to him.





“There was something you asked me to tell you.”





No matter how scared and difficult it was, I had to tell him, so I continued speaking in a choked voice.





“He said he wanted to be remembered as a world that was neither the sun nor the moon.

“A world where the hot sun, like midsummer, and the moon, which provides shelter when we are tired, coexist.”





I stood up and looked at him. He looked confused. After a moment of hesitation, I placed the letter in his hand.





“The letter I just gave you is one that the young lady left for you. I hope it will be of help to you as winter passes.”





After saying those words, I quickly left the place and slumped against the wall. Only then did I let out the words that had been rising to the very tip of my tongue but couldn't bring myself to say.





“I’m sorry that this is all I can do.”





Behind me, only his crying echoed.

































In the end, we who lost the world that day remained there because we could not let go of the world that was disappearing.





We decided to disappear together with the world we loved until we broke up.





It was the ending left by a world that does not return.

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Triangle star finish.