Mudoo - Chapter 50

Tae-shin let out a short sigh, his gaze slowly sweeping over Seula’s gaunt face.

“Why don’t you try throwing it again?”

“What’s wrong with you? What do you even get out of locking me up here?”

“Be quiet and finish your meal.”

“If you let me go, I’ll disappear from your sight forever. No matter what happens, I’ll never come back. Just… let me go.”

“That’s why I can’t.”

A faint smirk curved at Tae-shin’s lips. He furrowed his brow slightly, then spoke in a calm voice.

“What if you really vanish from my sight? Do you know how hard it was to find you?”

His tone was flat, almost ordinary. Seula had to wonder if she’d even heard him right. It sounded so casual, so normal, like he was talking about the weather.

“Do you know how long I waited for you to come find me? How hard I tried to keep you by my side? And now you’re saying this?”

Goosebumps prickled along her skin. Was this really the same Kang Tae-shin she thought she knew? From the moment they first met, every moment they’d lived under the same roof flashed before her eyes—Dong-gil bickering with them, the odd warmth of their strange little household.

There were terrible moments, yes, but she’d felt like she’d gained a family she never thought she’d have. She never had time to feel lonely.

Now it was as if someone had poured filth over those warm, beautiful memories.

Seula’s lips trembled as she forced her voice out.

“I’m not here because of anything you did, Tae-shin.”

“…”

“I stayed here because I wanted to. And now I don’t. So I’m leaving.”

“If you really didn’t know anything, you wouldn’t even want to leave.”

It was useless. It felt like there was a wall between them she could never break through. No matter how much she spoke from the heart, he seemed only interested in satisfying his own desires. Her feelings didn’t even factor into the equation.

“I’m not Yeo-ok—!”

“You don’t need to talk about Yeo-ok anymore.”

Her words were cut off. His face remained as still as if it had been carved from stone.

“Yes, at first I thought you were Yeo-ok. That’s why I sought you out.”

“…”

“But now… I want you to stay by my side.”

Seula pressed her lips into a thin line. In this situation, there was no way she could believe him.

“If you need anything, tell me. Anything.”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, his voice tender—the same tone he used when trying to manipulate her.

But this time, she held her ground.

“Let me leave this house.”

“That’s not possible yet.”

“I want to go back to my home.”

“When things go back to the way they used to be… then I’ll think about it.”

“You really think that’s possible?”

“Finish your meal before it gets cold.”

When things go back to the way they used to be… The words were so absurd she let out a small, bitter laugh, staring at the dishes in front of her like someone in a daze.

***

Seula spent most of her days in her room, lying on the round  bed, eating only bits of the food Tae-shin brought her, letting the hours slip away. When she was sure everyone was asleep, she would quietly sneak out and try the front gate. Each time she grabbed the handle with a flicker of hope—only to find it wouldn’t budge.

One night, she thought she could climb the wall, so she gripped the roof tiles and pulled herself up. But beyond the wall was a steep hill, the ground far below. Jumping would almost certainly break something, so she gave up.

Days passed. She lost track of what day it was, how much time had gone by.

One early dawn, she stepped into the yard. The cool night air was full of spring’s scent. Soon the cherry blossoms would bloom, and the streets of Seoul would be filled with people out for a stroll.

As always, she headed for the gate. She lifted the latch and gripped the handle—

“You really want to leave? Really?”

Dong-gil, who had shuffled down from the porch on all fours, stared at her.

“Dong-gil…”

Since she’d been holed up in her room, she hadn’t seen him in days. His face looked as weighed down with worry as hers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner about Yeo-ok. But is leaving this house really what you want? I’ve seen you shaking the gate every night…”

If Tae-shin had just let her go quietly, maybe she would have come back to visit Dong-gil from time to time. He might have been a spirit in an animal’s body, but to Seula, he was a dear friend—family.

She gripped the handle tighter, her lips pressing together before she spoke.

“I want to go back.”

“I don’t want to be trapped here anymore.”

Her voice trembled, but it was Dong-gil whose ears and tail drooped like he was about to cry.

“Please… help me get out, Dong-gil.”

At her plea, he whimpered, shuffling his feet in distress.

“I want to… but…”

“Dong-gil, come here.”

Tae-shin’s low voice cut through the air. He walked over to Dong-gil, who was lingering near the gate, and patted his head.

“Go inside.”

Dong-gil looked back and forth between them before finally turning toward the house, glancing back with a conflicted expression.

Then Tae-shin’s chest filled Seula’s vision.

“Do you really hate being with me that much?” His voice was tight, trembling faintly with something held back.

He reached for her hand, the one gripping the gate handle.

“Even if I told you it has nothing to do with Yeo-ok anymore?” His eyes, locked on hers, quivered ever so slightly.

“Even if I did everything for you?”

Seula swallowed hard and slowly shook her head.

“No. I still don’t want to.”

“You’ll leave forever? Never see me again?”

They say some people stir up such overwhelming emotion that they can only be called ill-fated. That was what this was. No matter how unforgettable this winter had been, she knew she had to cut it off here.

She bit her lip hard and nodded.

Tae-shin’s expression slackened. He rubbed his face over and over, as if unable to make the decision even though he already knew the answer.

“…Alright. Let’s go.”

After a long pause, he pulled the handle with her. With a creak, the gate slowly opened.

“Whatever happens, don’t come back.” His eyes clung to her face with a bittersweet intensity. Maybe it was just her imagination, but they almost looked like they were begging her not to leave.

Keeping her gaze on him, Seula stepped through the gate. The outside world felt strangely new after so long. But she couldn’t help glancing back, drawn by the weight of his stare.

“…Take care, Kang Tae-shin.”

It was probably the last time she’d ever say it. He didn’t respond.

Her heart pounded violently. She had wanted to escape so badly, but now her feet felt heavy. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his face, which seemed to still have so much left unsaid.

She had gone through countless farewells in her life—friends from the orphanage, classmates after a single year together, fellow club members who had shared hardships. They had all drifted apart. This was just one more.

A winter full of strange, extraordinary memories was coming to an end.

She looked down the steep, narrow hill she had to take. Then she glanced back through the gate—

“….”

The view was gone. In its place was a solid stone wall.

Cheonghae-ro 118-gil 4. Kang Tae-shin’s house—now a place she could never find again.

Seula drew in a deep breath. Her vision blurred with tears, but she kept her eyes wide and fixed ahead as she began her descent down the hill.