chapter 22:“It's too late”

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Four hours had passed. The room remained silent, save for the faint ticking of the clock. Jiwon sat curled up on the bed, his fingers gripping the sheets.

The heavy air pressed down on him. Too quiet. Too still.

He exhaled sharply. His eyes darted to the door—locked.

His chest tightened. He tried to push the thought away, but the stillness dragged him back… back to a night long ago.

Flashbacks bled in.

A dimly lit room. A child's voice, fragile and desperate.

["You're leaving?"

His younger self stood by the doorway. Cold. Detached.

"You'll be fine."

Tiny fingers gripped his sleeve.

"Please… don't go." ]

Jiwon clenched his teeth. He shook his head violently, trying to drown out the echo.

But the memories clawed back. The sound of soft, hiccuping sobs. The way that small body had trembled, barely holding on.

And then—silence.

Jiwon gasped. His body jerked forward, shaking.

"No… I didn't abandon you…" His breath hitched. His pulse pounded against his skull. "I had to—"

Jiwon pulled his knees to his chest, digging his fingers into his arms. His breath came in uneven gasps.

[Why now?]

[Why did it have to resurface now—here, in this suffocating room, in this nightmare disguised as reality?]

His body felt cold, but his skin burned.

Then, footsteps.

Slow. Measured. Coming closer.

The door creaked open, and the heavy presence that followed made Jiwon's stomach lurch.

Sergei.

He stood in the doorway, his piercing gaze locking onto Jiwon. Unreadable. Cold.

Jiwon tensed, instinctively pressing himself against the headboard. His body knew fear before his mind could process it.

Sergei's eyes swept over him. Then, in a flat, emotionless tone—

"What's wrong with you."

Jiwon flinched. His lips parted, but no sound came out.

Sergei took a slow step forward.

"Why are you crying."

Jiwon's breath hitched. His throat tightened.

"Let me go."

Sergei didn't react. Didn't blink.

Jiwon's fingers clutched the sheets as he forced out another breath.

"Let me go search for him."

His chest heaved. Tears slipped down his face, hot and relentless.

"I need to find him..."

The words cracked—raw, broken, slipping from a place even Jiwon didn't want to acknowledge.

Sergei's expression didn't change. But something—something flashed in his eyes for just a second.

Then, his jaw tightened. His fingers curled into fists.

"Who?"

Sergei's voice was low, demanding.

Jiwon pressed his lips together. His chest burned, his fingers trembled.

"It's none of your business."

Sergei's eyes darkened. His jaw tensed.

Jiwon felt the air shift before he saw Sergei move. A sharp grip on his wrist—painful, unrelenting.

"None of my business?."

Jiwon flinched but refused to back down. His breaths were ragged, his eyes glassy, but his voice—his voice held firm.

"Just let me go."

Sergei didn't respond. He only stared, unmoving.

Jiwon's lips trembled.

"I will find him… I'll search for him, and when I do—"

He swallowed the lump in his throat, blinking against the burning in his eyes.

"I'll come back. I swear, I'll return to you, so please… just let me go."

Sergei tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"Who are you talking about?."

Jiwon clenched his fists, his voice shaking.

"It doesn't matter."

Sergei took a step closer.

"What boy are you talking about?"

Jiwon flinched, but he didn't lower his gaze.

Sergei's fingers twitched. His jaw tightened.

"Say it," he demanded.

The silence stretched. Thick. Suffocating.

Jiwon's throat was dry, his vision blurred with unshed tears. But his answer—his answer refused to come out.

"If I told you…" His voice cracked, barely holding itself together.

"Would you let me go?"

Sergei didn't blink. Didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

It was a lie. A perfect, effortless lie.

"There's a boy…"

He clenched his fists.

"I left him. I don't know where he is."

" I miss him. I need him."

Sergei's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes darkened.

Jiwon swallowed, his breathing ragged.

"i left him. Because I had to."

His voice cracked, raw with something deeper than regret.

"And now… I can't stand the night without him."

His eyes glistened, his fingers curling into his palms as if trying to hold himself together.

"He's always in my dreams."

The silence between them was unbearable. Sergei's gaze bore into him, his jaw tightening, his fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to do something—to destroy something.

Finally, Sergei's voice came, slow and deliberate.

"do you remember his name?."

Jiwon searched his face, looking for something—anything—that might prove otherwise. But Sergei was unreadable. A wall of ice.

"I... I can't remember his name," Jiwon admitted, his voice breaking.

"But I know I used to call him Kiddo."

Sergei didn't move. He sat there, his expression unreadable, but the way his hands curled into fists betrayed something beneath the surface.

Jiwon's breath hitched as he pushed forward, words tumbling out as if they had been caged inside him for years.

"Please, I need to find him. If you just won't let me go, then why don't you search for him?"

His voice rose slightly, pleading, desperate.

"I don't have any specific information about him, but I know where we used to live. If I could just—"

"It's too late."

The words cut through the room like a blade.

Jiwon's head snapped up, his brows knitting together in confusion.

"What…?"

Sergei exhaled sharply, his gaze locked on Jiwon with something cold—something almost cruel.

"It's too late," he repeated, his voice low, firm, like a final sentence.

Jiwon's throat tightened.

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"No, you don't!" Jiwon snapped, pushing himself upright despite the ache in his body. His broken ankle throbbed in protest, but he ignored it.

"He's still out there! He has to be!"

Sergei leaned forward, his face inches from Jiwon's now, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down Jiwon's spine.

"What makes you so sure?"