HIF 42

Even If You Don’t Remember

I followed Min Joo-hyuk’s gaze and looked up at the mansion again.

“That’s true. It’s quiet.”

I answered in a dazed voice. Min Joo-hyuk was right.

Though it seemed stained with the traces of time, the turbulence of the years was not felt. The mansion, retaining its majestic atmosphere, revealed its presence heavily even within the darkness.

Creak.

Park Yul pushed the gate open. A sound like something old and rusty echoed as the gate swung inward. Following behind Park Yul, I took a step inside.

“…We’ll be back.”

Song Ha-gyun’s voice came from behind. Weren’t we all going in together?

“We’ll stay with Leader, Yi-han. We’ll make one final round to check if all the Rifts are closed and come back. We’ll be back, Leader.”

“Seon Yi-han. Don’t get lost and stay close to him. Park Yul, we’ll be right back!”

And then, in an instant, they all vanished.

Even so, could one really get lost inside a mansion? I suddenly wondered what Min Joo-hyuk thought of me.

“Yi-han-ah. Shall we go in then?”

Park Yul’s gentle voice sounded right beside me. I turned my head. Park Yul met my gaze.

“Yes, Yul.”

We stepped forward, treading on the overgrown grass. The building had a large door. An antique pattern was symmetrically carved on both sides.

Clunk.

The door was truly firmly locked and wouldn’t open. Park Yul, beside me, swiftly created something in the air. It was a small lantern. It had a black frame and even a proper handle.

The lantern floated in the air, spilling yellow light. Park Yul lightly grasped its handle. Then he brought it close to the door.

“Here it is.”

Where the lantern illuminated, a keyhole was clearly visible.

I held the key in my hand. For some reason, I felt nervous. What if the key didn’t fit? With trembling eyes, I looked up at Park Yul.

“Yul. What if… what if this doesn’t go in?”

Hearing my voice, Park Yul’s body stiffened slightly, and he looked at me. His shimmering light green eyes blinked slowly in the lantern’s glow.

Perhaps Park Yul was worried about the same thing I was. If the key didn’t fit, we’d end up waiting outside for everyone to return.

That would be a bit embarrassing, no matter what. Maybe we should have checked when we were all together.

“…Yi-han-ah.”

Park Yul’s voice echoed softly. He looked at me quietly for a moment, then smiled brightly.

Park Yul slowly wrapped his hand around my wrist holding the key. The veins on the back of his hand were faintly visible. The touch of his hand seemed to carry more strength than usual. My wrist was pressed firmly.

As if choosing his words, Park Yul slowly opened his mouth.

“Don’t worry. It’s the right key.”

Then, applying force to the hand he held, he slowly brought it to the keyhole.

Click. The key fit perfectly. As I turned the key smoothly, a sound like a lock disengaging followed.

“See? It opened.”

Park Yul instantly withdrew his hand and pushed the door open.

Creeeak.

A heavy sound echoed. An empty hall, shrouded in darkness, was visible inside. A thick, wine-colored carpet was spread on the floor.

“Here, doesn’t it feel similar to Ledeo?”

“Really? It’s equally spacious, so I guess it could feel that way.”

Park Yul stepped boldly into the building and reached out his hand to me. The moment I grasped that hand and took a step inside,

[Thank you.]

A short voice flashed and then faded. So this is what you wanted from the beginning.

In front of me, standing dazed, Park Yul floated another lantern. As I reached my hand toward it, Park Yul continued speaking.

“You don’t have to hold it. It’ll keep floating.”

“Then why are you holding yours, Yul?”

“Sometimes, doing things directly isn’t bad either.”

Come to think of it, Park Yul always rolled up his sleeves when cooking. So, did that mean he wasn’t doing it all with magic?

“Then, have you been doing things like cooking yourself until now? Not with magic?”

“For the most part, yes.”

“Why? Isn’t using magic more convenient?”

“True. It would be more convenient and faster.”

Park Yul took a step and continued in a light voice.

“But sometimes, the slowly flowing process holds more meaning. In the end, it’s those things that remain in memory.”

Park Yul’s voice spread through the spacious building, bouncing here and there.

Suddenly, I remembered the sound of water dripping on petals in the garden every day. While watching the droplets slowly pour from the watering can, had Park Yul always been thinking like this?

Park Yul continued in a bright voice.

“Why? Do you want to try cooking with me later, Yi-han?”

“Uh… Yes?”

Suddenly? Probably because I brought up cooking first. I hadn’t expected this kind of question.

I’d never even thought about cooking. From the start, when I was at the temple, I always made do with similar meals.

As I hesitated to answer, Park Yul ruffled my hair. A voice tinged with laughter followed.

“Alright. I’ll keep making food for you. You just focus on eating well, Yi-han.”

Keep making… What does that mean? Until the Hero’s term ends and we part? Or even after that?

I was curious, but I didn’t want to hear the answer. Because I didn’t want to ask about the end already. In the end, I pushed aside the question that had welled up and brought out the second thing I wanted to say.

“…It was always delicious.”

“Good. I’m glad you thought so.”

“Teach me later.”

“Then I’ll be even happier.”

We climbed the stairs that stretched inside the building. I ran my hand along the railing. Thickly accumulated dust brushed against my hand. The dense wood grain hidden beneath finally revealed itself.

As soon as we reached the second floor, four doors were visible. The stairs didn’t continue upward. From the outside, it had looked taller than this.

Click.

We entered the first room. It was an ordinary room. Common, usable furniture like a bed and bookshelf were placed inside. A faint smell of dust hung in the air.

Park Yul leaned against the desk as if sitting on it and slowly opened a drawer. A creaking sound was heard. Park Yul, who had been staring intently inside the drawer, opened his mouth.

“I was curious. What would a mansion untouched for so long look like?”

Park Yul pulled out a small notebook from the drawer. The brown leather-covered surface looked worn, cracked and wrinkled. Over the sound of rustling paper, Park Yul’s voice overlapped.

“Everything else is still here as it was.”

Park Yul was right. Everything was intact enough that if you just dusted it off, you could use it right away.

“Really. It feels like traces of whoever lived here are still vivid.”

Park Yul’s hand, flipping through the notebook, stopped. His straight gaze turned toward me.

“Yi-han-ah. Do you wish for traces to remain in the place you left?”

This question was also sudden. I had guessed before, but Park Yul seemed like the type to ask whatever he was curious about right then and there.

If it’s the place I left, does he mean the temple? The empty room I had forgotten for a while came to mind.

What does that room look like now? Did they tidy it up neatly as if they’d been waiting for me to leave? Or is it still exactly as it was, just accumulating dust because no one even cared?

Either way, it felt a bit bitter.

I didn’t expect anything from the other priests. Teacher, did he ever think of me in that room without me? Would he remember that I was there?

I don’t know. For me, there was only Teacher, but for him, it wasn’t the same.

“I’d prefer if nothing remained.”

“Really? …What’s the reason?”

“If no one remembers me, it’s better not to leave anything behind.”

“Do you think something only has meaning if it remains in memory?”

“Yes.”

Park Yul placed the notebook on the desk. Dust rose slightly. On Park Yul’s face as he looked at me, a peculiar smile had appeared, as if he had just sipped bitter tea.

“I don’t think that way. Even if it doesn’t remain in memory, it has its own meaning.”

Park Yul bent his knee to meet my eyes. My reflection filled his light green pupils.

“Because the fact that you were there doesn’t change.”

Does that give it meaning? The meaning of his words seemed both understandable and elusive. Park Yul’s voice continued slowly, as if soothing.

“And there’s no way they wouldn’t remember you, Yi-han. Raen, Ha-gyeon, Ju-hyeok, everyone.”

“What about you, Yul?”

“Of course, me too.”

Park Yul lightly brushed my hair and took a step. It seemed like he was about to leave now. Under the sound of the door opening, Park Yul’s voice brushed past like a whisper.

“But I wonder if Yi-han will remember me.”

“I will remember.”

Park Yul paused briefly at the doorway. Then he swiftly turned his back to me. Yellow light spread from the lantern in Park Yul’s hand. That light shone brightly on Park Yul’s beaming face.

“Let’s go out now.”

Saying that, Park Yul took a bold step outside the room. As I was about to follow him out, I remembered the notebook Park Yul had been looking at just moments before.

I opened the small notebook left on the desk. Yellowed paper felt rough against my fingertips.

Inside, only empty lines were densely drawn. It was blank paper with nothing written on it.

“Yi-han-ah, come here for a moment.”

Park Yul’s voice came from the hallway. Click. I closed the door and came out.

The place Park Yul called me to was the very next room.

“Wow… I’ve never seen a painting like this before.”

A large painting hung on the wall of the room. On a spacious canvas immersed in pitch-black night, a red sun was vividly rising.

“Right? Ju-hyeok would like this.”

“Why Min Joo-hyuk?”

“Because Ju-hyeok likes painting. Ask him to show you sometime.”

I didn’t know he had such a hobby. I thought I should bring it up sometime.

I quietly gazed at the canvas. The paint was applied neatly, stroke by stroke.

“He must have really liked this painting.”

“Seems so. To hang such a large painting, big enough to fill the entire wall, in a room.”

“But why did he live here? Even though it’s a place where the sun doesn’t reach.”

“This place might not have always been like this.”

Then did he leave this place after it became distorted? Because the sun no longer rose?

“Then this mansion might be older than we thought.”

Since we don’t know when the distortion of places began, that possibility was high.

The red, blazing round sun looked vivid, as if about to be sucked into it. Without realizing, I reached my hand toward it. The hardened paint touched my fingertips.

“Hey, wait a minute. Why is that…”

I thought I faintly heard Park Yul’s voice. Simultaneously,

Whoosh.

A wind blew. I opened my eyes. The place had changed in an instant.

What? No, where is this?