"The Depths of a Dream”

The night is half gone as they return to their apartment. A deep silence fills the space as they enter. Both sit on the couch, and in the soft light of the apartment, the atmosphere feels incredibly peaceful.

Wu Jin broke the silence, his voice calm but probing. "Will you go home, Kang-ha?"

Kang-ha barely shifted, his gaze fixed on the television. "No," he replied flatly. His tone left no room for argument.

Wu Jin looked down, pausing as if searching for the right words. He glanced at his friend, who seemed so distant, almost unreachable. "You should think about it," he said softly. "Miss Choi didn't want you to leave school…she believes in you. And maybe it's time to let go of what happened all those years ago."

Kang-ha's eyes narrowed, a sharp edge to his expression as he finally turned to Wu Jin. "Let go?" he repeated, incredulous. "Do you think I can just forget? My father was killed, and my grandfather was blamed for it." His voice grew bitter. "I never even knew my mother, and my grandfather—the one who tore us apart—refuses to acknowledge me. For three years now, he hasn't been careful about me. He once even had me imprisoned."

Wu Jin sighed, recognizing the anger and pain that had been simmering inside Kang-ha for years. He tried to keep his tone steady, persuasive. "I know it's hard. But, Kang-ha, you have a whole life ahead of you. There's so much you could achieve. You could even become a headmaster one day."

Kang-ha shook his head, a humorless shape tugging at the corners of his mouth as he stood. His gaze bore into Wu Jin, fierce and unyielding. "A future? What future, Wu Jin?" He took a breath, anger mixing with a hint of despair. "I am my father's only son, and I have a duty to find his killer. That's the only future I see."

Kang-ha moved to leave, his shoulders tense. But Wu Jin couldn't hold back any longer. He stood, his voice laced with desperation. "Kang-ha, this obsession with revenge—this war—has already taken so much from us. My father died in it too, just like yours. I'm not saying to forget him, but you don't have to throw your life away like this."

Kang-ha paused, his back to Wu Jin, fists clenched as he took in his friend's words. Slowly, he turned around, his expression conflicted but determined. "You may choose to believe it's over," he said quietly. "You can think it's a rumor, Wu Jin. But for me… I need to know the truth. I can't walk away from this. Not yet."

They stood there in silence, the weight of unresolved pasts hanging heavy between them, as the quiet night pressed in around them.

The night was still, the garden outside cloaked in shadows. Kang-ha lay awake, staring up at the ceiling, memories of his grandfather drifting through his mind. He remembered the laughter, the warmth, the gentle guidance. His grandfather had once been his anchor, his source of joy. But now, something had changed. The distance between them had grown, and Kang-ha couldn't understand why. He sighed, eyes drifting toward the window and the starlit sky above.

"Even when the path is gone," he whispered to himself, "there should still be a way to walk forward." But his hope felt shattered, scattered like broken glass. He didn't even know where to begin to pick up the pieces.

Suddenly, a sense of unease creeps over him—a strange, heavy feeling pressing against his chest. Without thinking, Kang-ha finds himself running, his feet pounding on an unknown path as he calls out desperately, "Grandpa!" His heart races with an inexplicable fear, the kind that gnaws at his bones. Is he about to lose someone again?

Through the trees, a faint glow appears in the distance. His footsteps slow as he approaches. There, hovering in mid-air, is his grandfather—encircled by a dark, swirling void. A black, ominous circle of shadows binds him, his hands tied, his body limp and unmoving. Kang-ha feels the ground drop out from under him.

"Grandpa!" he screams, his voice raw with panic. Tears blur his vision as he stumbles forward, reaching out, pleading. "Please! Can you hear me?" But his grandfather remains silent, drifting deeper into the dark vortex. The shadows seem to pulse, as if alive, consuming him piece by piece.

Kang-ha's screams grow hoarse, each cry piercing the stillness of the night. But it's no use. The black void swallows his grandfather completely, and silence fills the air once more.

With a sharp gasp, Kang-ha jolts awake, his heart pounding as he takes in the familiar walls of his room. He is drenched in sweat, his breaths shallow and ragged. For a moment, he sits there, dazed, trying to grasp what just happened. Is it just a nightmare? The terror feels too real, lingering in his chest.

—-------------

Kang-ha spends the entire night in restless sleep, trapped in the haunting vision of his grandfather disappearing into that dark vortex. When he finally awakens, a lingering unease gnaws at him. Why did he see such a dream? Could his grandfather truly be in danger? The thought weighs heavily on him, and he can't shake it.

Driven by an urgency he can't explain, he runs without a clear destination, just following his instinct. The journey is long, his heart pounding as his legs carry him forward. Finally, he arrives at his school, standing outside and breathing heavily as dawn begins to break over the horizon. His face is blank, but his eyes hold a fierce determination..

Without a second thought, he climbs the stone stairs leading to the entrance. The first rays of sunlight flood the inner courtyard, casting the school in a soft, golden light. Everything seems quiet and still, but he can't shake the sense of foreboding. Kang-ha walks through the open field, his footsteps echoing in the silence as he makes his way to the other side.

He turns to the right, passing row after row of empty classrooms. His movements are almost mechanical, his mind focused entirely on the path ahead. As he reaches the staircase on the left, he climbs it to the second floor, his steps slow but determined. The school's architecture is circular, with pathways leading in all directions, looping back to a central point. He barely notices his surroundings, eyes fixed ahead, as he follows the familiar hallways..

At last, he finds himself standing in front of his grandfather's office door, a simple wooden door that feels suddenly ominous. He reaches for the handle but hesitates, his mind racing with memories and questions. The hallway is silent, save for the faint sound of birds chirping outside as the sun continues to rise, filling the space with an almost surreal light.

Beyond the door lies not only his grandfather's office but also the bridge that spans the ditch outside—the same bridge that holds so many memories, both joyful and painful. Taking a deep breath, Kang-ha steadies himself, trying to prepare for whatever he might find on the other side of the door..

Kang-ha takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and opens the door. The room is dimly lit, the soft morning light spilling through the window, casting long shadows across the floor. His eyes fall immediately on the bed to the right, and he freezes. His face goes pale.

There, lying motionless, is his grandfather, fast asleep.

Kang-ha's hand trembles slightly as he closes the door behind him, taking two steps backward in shock. His mind races, disbelief written across his face. "Grandfather…?" he murmurs, barely audible. He can't remember the last time he saw his grandfather asleep at this hour. It's completely out of character.

He takes a shaky breath, trying to calm himself, and begins whispering to himself as he pieces together the memories. "When I was little, he'd be up before dawn, always ready to take me outside. We'd walk together… he'd point out the colors of the sky as the sun rose." His voice falters, his heart pounding as worry sets in. "He always woke up before sunrise. Is he… is he sick?"

—------------

Now standing in front of another door, Kang-ha reads the nameplate: Miss Choi. He takes a steadying breath and knocks. A voice calls from inside, "Come in," he opens the door and he enters.

"Kang-ha, you're here?" Miss Choi looks up, surprised and pleased, though her expression also holds a hint of curiosity. "And at this hour?"

Kang-ha doesn't hesitate. His question is as direct as always. "How long has Grandfather been sleeping?"

Miss Choi blinks in surprise. "He'll probably sleep for another hour," she replies, puzzled. "Why do you ask?"

He takes in her response, his expression thoughtful. "And how long has he been like this?"

Miss Choi's smile fades, her eyes softening. " when he stopped meeting with you."

Kang-ha pauses, absorbing her words, a shadow of sadness crossing his face. Without another word, he nods and turns to leave.

As he reaches the door, Miss Choi calls after him, "Will you come to the party tonight?"

"No." His answer is curt. He doesn't look back as he leaves, his mind already elsewhere.

Making his way up the stairs, he feels the weight of each step as he climbs to the third floor. Finally, he arrives at the large, imposing doors of the library. He stands for a moment, gathering his thoughts before quietly pushing them open and stepped inside.

The room is silent, lined wall-to-wall with towering bookshelves. Sunlight streams through the tall windows, casting an ethereal glow over the dust-covered volumes. Kang-ha moves with purpose, as if he has come to this place seeking the interpretation of his dream. What is it about that dream that he needs to understand?.