7. Don't Fade Away (1) The Sky Garden

As 8 p.m. approached, fireworks erupted above the Sky Garden. Sun-woo and I decided to leave before the event concluded. Among the attendees, everyone else stood still, gazing up at the sky; we were the only ones looking ahead, searching for a way out.

Exiting through the Sky Garden's back gate, we were met with strong vibrations emanating from a green container. Sun-woo explained it was a massive pump used to draw water from the Han River up to the Sky Garden.

"It seems different from a real sky garden, here."

I took one last look back.

"It would be very different. The original Sky Garden was supposedly built by the king of Babylon for his wife. Babylon was a desert, but his wife's homeland was mountainous. Missing her homeland, he had a mountain-like garden built for her, even importing trees and flowers directly from her homeland..."

A cool breeze seemed to carry the scenes from his story.

"How could such grand things just disappear?"

My words were more of a lament than a question.

"Civilization seems similar to love. Built up grandly as if to last forever, yet it crumbles away into nothing but legends. The Sky Garden proves that, in many ways."

Listening to Sun-woo, I realized the breakup must have affected him more than I thought. As we headed towards the subway station, the Gangbyeon North Road was lined with air taxi stands.

"Shall we take one? It'd get us to your place in less than 10 minutes," Do-hyeon suggested, indicating the air taxis.

"No way. Too expensive. It'd cost about a month's worth of my part-time job earnings. Plus, my apartment building doesn't have a landing pad; we'd have to use a rope to get down. Ugh, no thanks."

I nudged him in the opposite direction.

"Then, that's not an option."

Sun-woo quickly adjusted our direction, concurring.

"But Sun-woo, what happened to it? The thing you were writing on at the observatory?"

"I don't know, I forgot."

His indifferent reply made me regret asking. He didn't even bother to search his pockets, likely because this happened often enough to be familiar.

When we got home that day, the internet news was abuzz with reports of a fireworks accident at the Sky Garden. Part of the fireworks had fallen on an air taxi flying nearby, causing it to crash into the Han River. Two days later, the taxi was retrieved near the Seongsan Bridge, with the pilot and two passengers found deceased inside.

The Sky Garden on Bam Island faced closure less than a year after opening due to its astronomical maintenance costs. Unable to cope with the escalating debt and public criticism, Seoul City had no choice but to sell it to a corporation. The Sky Garden then started charging high entrance fees and became a sought-after luxury wedding venue for the elite on weekends. It remained a paradise for some, while those who couldn't return or leave behind legends were

forever forgotten.

***

Upon arrival in Finland, a dry cough caught me off guard. The sudden drop in air temperature and humidity was to blame. Quickly turning on the light, Do-hyeon and I were stunned for reasons beyond the cold. Dead Scotch pines lay broken and scattered among the still-standing trees as if trampled by something malevolent. Sounds of creaking echoed grandly from deep within the forest, suggesting a chain reaction of falling trees.

Two hundred meters ahead, the log building we were aiming for came into view. We maneuvered through the tangled trunks, stumbling and catching each other several times before finally emerging from the forest to reach the building.

A small window on the front side revealed no light, sound, or warmth from within. Approaching the metal front door, I tapped the visitor's touchpad in the center, but received no response. Instead, a virtual keyboard flashed on the screen above the doorknob, prompting for a seventeen-letter password. Chuckling at the absurdity, I wondered who could remember and enter such a password. This time, Do-hyeon knocked, but still no response.

"What do we do?" Do-hyeon asked, looking at me.

"We'll have to go straight inside."

Activating the teleporter, I envisioned the building's interior. The countdown began.

Once inside, the automatic lights illuminated, revealing a cozy atmosphere unlike the Valkama branch building in Daeseokhang. A large bed with neatly arranged white sheets faced a small teak desk on the opposite side, and a red woven mat covered the floor. The antique kitchen with wooden shelves and cabinets added warmth to the rectangular space, making it feel more like someone's personal space than a Valkama facility. A faint warmth from the fireplace suggested someone lived here, possibly Sun-woo.

In a small kitchen cabinet, I found a transparent liquor bottle. Pulling it out, I saw a round bottle labeled <KOSKENKORVA, VODKA>, half-filled. "Koskenkorva. Vodka," I whispered, unsure if Sun-woo was a drinker, as I had no memory of drinking together.

The wooden desk was dust-free. Under its top, a wide, shallow drawer slid open with a bit of friction, either from lack of use or being the first in a while to be touched. Inside, a green hardcover notebook and a classic ballpoint pen lay. It was surprising to find someone still using such items today. Ignoring the guilt of snooping, I flipped open the cover, and soon familiar handwriting caught my eye. The tight spacing between letters and sharp linear strokes were unmistakably Sun-woo's. Although his name was nowhere in the notebook, I was certain it belonged to him.

Then,

"Hee-jae, wait a moment," Do-hyeon called.

Heading towards him by the kitchen side door, I found him standing solemnly in front of what appeared to be a laundry room.

"Look what I found here."

Pointing to a giant plastic basket next to the washing machine, I leaned into the laundry room, peering into the basket. A thick blanket, originally white, was stained dark red on one side, hardened as if clotted. A rush of unpleasant thoughts crossed my mind, making it hard to keep looking.

"Blood, do you think?" I asked Do-hyeon.

"It seems so. It hasn't decomposed due to the cold, but if it's hardened this much, it must be quite old, right?"

"Why would this be here..."

My voice trembled as I barely managed to speak.

Outside, the sound of a car approached. Someone might be returning. We quickly hid in the laundry room, slightly opening the door to watch who was entering. Footsteps neared, and soon the door opened.

The man who entered wasn't Sun-woo but a short-haired foreigner. My heart sank as if on the verge of tears. The man paused, seemingly suspicious of the indoor lights being on and signs of others in the kitchen and by the desk. Realizing he might discover us, I swiftly activated the teleporter, envisioning our living room in Yeongindong.

Back home, Do-hyeon was not by my side. In a panic, I looked around, fearing I had left him behind in Finland. I hadn't checked if he was holding onto me in my rush to leave.

Outside, sirens blared. I hurried to return to Finland, but then someone knocked on the front door. Confused about what to do first, I ran to the entrance.

"Who is it?"