Chapter 24

"What!?" Yixan erupted, springing to her feet from the couch. Her wide eyes mirrored her astonishment as she grappled with the revelation Hee-Jun had just shared. "So he— so you— but you— how did— wait, I'm—if that happened— no, but then— huh?" Every attempt to piece the story together was crumbling in her mind. It felt utterly nonsensical, as if a crucial detail eluded her grasp. But no, Hee-Jun hadn't omitted anything in his explanation of Yeon-Jun's tangled relationship with Yui-Hyuk.

"So you're saying you are Yeon-Jun's brother, who is actually named Hui-Jun, and you believed he died in that fire, but no, your parents' murderer took him to blackmail Yui-Hyuk, and now that he's dead, everything's falling apart?" Yixan voiced the convoluted narrative aloud, but doing so only deepened her confusion. "Wait, if he's dead, why are we still being influenced by him—I mean you—why are you still being influenced by him?" Hee-Jun let out a heavy sigh, rolling his eyes at Yixan's struggle to comprehend. He'd gone over this same story countless times, each perspective adding layers yet still failing to make sense. "So what if he has evidence? He's dead. Under the ground. Likely just bones by now."

"Well, we don't actually know that yet," Hee-Jun shot back, his voice tinged with desperation. His expression shifted to one of deep concern, and Yixan could see that unfamiliar look of fear creeping into his eyes. "You think he might be alive? No…" Yixan laughed derisively, mocking Hee-Jun's silent doubt. "I attended his funeral. I witnessed the burial with my own eyes. There's no way he's still alive." She attempted to reassure him, but despite her words, Hee-Jun's face remained impassive, as if he held onto an unshakeable conviction that Yeon-Jun lived.

"The day he died," Hee-Jun began, his voice barely above a whisper as he adjusted himself on the couch, swallowing hard before continuing. "The day he died, I went to his grave because I couldn't accept that he was really dead. But when I dug it up…" He paused, the weight of his confession suffocating the room. "There was nothing there." His words hung between them, surreal, as they locked eyes. "The coffin was empty." The realization hit like a freight train; he had faked his death, and he was helped by someone. But with so many enemies, who would he ask other than Sung-Hoon to aid him, who was already aware of his identity and heinous crimes?

"So, Yui-Hyuk plotted to get Yeon-Jun out of there because he knew he was still at the mercy of his father," Yixan inferred, a grim understanding dawning upon her. Hee-Jun nodded slowly, his expression solemn. It made sense; Yui-Hyuk likely learned of his fake death, and though he masqueraded as a caring figure, the truth was far more sinister. "But if he pulled Yeon-Jun out, why marry him off to Woo-San instead of just telling him the truth?"

"He didn't do it out of love or concern for either of us," Hee-Jun said, returning to the crux of the matter, his voice heavy with resignation. "It was about pride and ego. His own children died unjustly, and everything was planned by that person. Yet he remained powerless to act against him. Gradually, Yui-Hyuk sowed seeds of doubt in Yeon-Jun, ensuring he broke down and finally accepted that Sung-Hoon wasn't his real family. This wasn't about saving us; it was to bind us to him forever. His actions were dictated by his own failures and the loss of his children, and he'll never set us free." For Hee-Jun, the narrative was deeply emotional, yet Yixan noticed the detachment etched across his features—like a detective methodically outlining a crime scene rather than a victim sharing a harrowing tale. She recognized the chilling symptoms of dissociation syndrome at play; Hee-Jun had numbed himself to his emotions, rendering his trauma almost irrelevant, and in that moment, she understood why discovering Yeon-Jun was his brother stirred so little within him.

"Why would you do this to yourself?" Yixan blurted out, the question slipping from her lips before she could contain it. It hung heavily in the air—now irrevocably stated, she could only wish to withdraw it. "Yeon-Jun doesn't deserve to be 'saved' by someone like you," she continued, catching Hee-Jun off guard. "You hide your true feelings. You act surprised, yet you're not. Carrying this immense trauma, suffering so much, and still, you talk about it so casually like it means nothing? If you had even a shred of genuine emotion left, you wouldn't let Yeon-Jun burn in that hellhole! Where he couldn't express himself! Where he had to live, tied to a single person his whole life!" Her voice quivered, and tears blurred her vision, yet Hee-Jun's face remained impassive, lined with confusion.

"You don't get it—he… he's just like me. He can't feel anything, either," Hee-Jun attempted to clarify, but the gap in understanding widened. "From a young age, we struggled to connect with our emotions. He probably couldn't express his feelings properly. He was—he..." Hee-Jun stopped, knowing that this was something he had told himself to ease his own guilt. "He was happy there..." Yixan shook her head in frustration, attempting to rein in her spiraling emotions. "Are you out of your mind? He lost his speech from the trauma he experienced. How could that be possible if he couldn't feel anything?" In reality, both of them knew nothing about what they were suffering from, and neither of them had enough knowledge to even know what they were trying to say.

"Get your things. We need to go somewhere." Hee-Jun grabbed Yixan's hand and dragged her out, barely giving her time to grab her purse, and saying no was definitely not an option.

"We're here," Hee-Jun declared, unbuckling his seatbelt with a firm and deliberate motion before stepping out of the car. Yixan, however, remained seated, her heart racing as a torrent of emotions surged within her. She felt an overwhelming dread at the thought of setting foot inside Yui-Hyuk's imposing mansion once more. The opulence of the place, drenched in memories she wished to forget, loomed over her like a dark cloud. "Aren't you getting out?" Hee-Jun asked, swinging open her door and fixing his intense gaze on her. Yixan clutched her bag tightly, wrestling with a fierce internal struggle to refuse, but the words stuck in her throat. "You know I still don't know…" she began, scanning Hee-Jun's inscrutable expression for some sign of empathy, but found only a steely resolve. With a heavy sigh, she surrendered her defiance, a concession too familiar in her tumultuous history. "Never mind," she said finally, forcing a veneer of confidence before hopping out of the car. She slung her bag over her shoulder and strode toward the entrance.

"Chairman Kim, it's Hee-Jun," he announced boldly, his knuckles rapping against Yui-Hyuk's bedroom door. They stood in the suffocating silence that followed, anticipation thickening the air around them until a low, rumbling voice beckoned them to enter. This visit marked a significant departure for Yixan; it was her first foray beyond the confines of Yui-Hyuk's study during previous visits. Curiosity briefly ignited within her, only to be extinguished by the sight that greeted her upon entering. The room, adorned with luxurious furnishings, was overtaken by the stark presence of medical equipment surrounding Yui-Hyuk's bed. The image was heart-wrenching; multiple tubes snaked around his frail arms and abdomen, an unrelenting reminder of his deteriorating condition. It was a bitter irony that seeped into her thoughts, as a dark whisper echoed within her: she had once wished for this very outcome.

"I want to ask you something," Hee-Jun said, stepping closer, his voice taut with urgency. Just then, a caregiver glided in from an adjacent room, skillfully assisting Yui-Hyuk into a sitting position before swiftly exiting, leaving only the three of them to navigate the heavy atmosphere. "Do you remember when my brother and I were psychologically assessed when we were little? The results?" he continued, his voice edged with impatience. However, Yui-Hyuk's expression remained as inscrutable as ever, a carefully crafted facade of calm that only deepened Hee-Jun's growing frustration.

"How would I remember? Your father was the one who voiced concerns after witnessing your unsettling indifference to a dead rabbit," Yui-Hyuk replied, his tone dismissive, filled with practiced nonchalance. "He confided his worries to me, and though I suggested that it could have simply been a fleeting shock, he insisted on arranging a test. I had nothing to do with it." Despite the lingering doubts hanging in the air, Hee-Jun and Yixan pressed on, driven by an insatiable need for answers.

"What about Yeon-Jun? What was his reason?" Yixan interjected, stepping forward with a fierce sense of solidarity. "Nothing. He just wanted to join his brother. There was no particular reason." She sensed Yui-Hyuk's ignorance on the matter, her instincts soon confirmed as he faltered. Taking a step back, she silently beckoned Hee-Jun to tackle the next pressing question.

"What were the results then?" Hee-Jun's eyes shimmered with a mix of desperation and hope, as if seeking validation for his fears that would finally unravel the tangled threads of his fragmented memories.

"Nothing of significance. You were just a child. Children can be peculiar," Yui-Hyuk chuckled lightly, the absurdity of it sparking a brief flicker of amusement in his eyes. But as he caught sight of Hee-Jun's shocked expression and Yixan's troubled demeanor, the humor rapidly drained from the moment. "Don't you remember? They euthanized several ill animals in front of you, and you sobbed each time, convinced they were dying because of you. Your brother didn't talk to you for weeks after that, thinking that you caused their deaths." He sighed deeply, seemingly lost in the echoes of the past. "It's somewhat ironic, isn't it? A darkly amusing anecdote." His words hung heavy in the air, utterly oblivious to the turmoil brewing within Hee-Jun. "If you have no further questions, you're free to leave. I've tolerated your presence long enough for one day. Don't forget your place," he concluded, his tone reverting to one of cold authority as he settled back into silence, the weight of his dismissal palpable.

Yixan and Hee-Jun slipped out of the room quietly, the heavy door clicking shut behind them. "Wretched man. No wonder he needs drugs to sleep," Yixan whispered, glancing back at Hee-Jun, who sat on the floor beside the door, shrouded in shadow, his expression lost in deep contemplation. "Do you still believe you struggle with dissociation?" she probed, her voice steady and filled with concern. Hee-Jun met her gaze, and in that moment, the gravity of their earlier conversation struck him, the weight becoming unbearable as tears welled in his eyes.

"You confuse me so much," Yixan confessed, her tone resolute yet gentle. "If you have feelings—trauma, you need to face them head-on, otherwise, they will consume you. What happened wasn't your fault, and it's okay to let go. Do you intend to live your life waiting for someone else to show one weakness so you can have your so-called revenge? If that's your choice, then I fear I cannot help you with that. I won't marry you, even for whatever stupid reason you gave me." Her voice was firm and unwavering, yet it was not just her words that struck a chord within Hee-Jun, it was the embodiment of her resilience, the example she set: breaking free from the suffocating chains of her trauma, forging a path forward, and acknowledging that nothing from the past could dictate her future.

"I'll leave," Hee-Jun declared, a sense of urgency in his voice as he sprang to his feet, grasping Yixan's hand firmly and locking his gaze onto hers. "I'll leave. Just—just do me one favor." Was it truly the right choice to walk away now, after finally uncovering the possibility of a life together as a family? No, it felt painfully selfish, even for Hee-Jun, who had always grappled with his own emotional turmoil. In that moment, the weight of their past separation loomed heavily over him; it became starkly clear that their lives could never intertwine again without leading to more heartbreak. By honoring Yixan's advice, perhaps Hee-Jun could carve out some semblance of peace. The thought of returning to Yeon-Jun only deepened his anxiety—the notion of being unrecognized by the very person he had devoted his life to was a wound too deep to contemplate. "I promise that I'll live for myself from now on. Just please, do me one favor." Fortunately, Yixan, with her generous spirit, was willing to grant him that favor, even though it was destined to fracture him even further.