The Desolate Altar

When she finally arrived at the station where Yusin lived after much difficulty, the very first thing that caught her eye was a massive hospital advertisement.

[Whether it’s an ‘ex’-boyfriend, an ‘ex’-girlfriend, or people from the ‘past’! The ‘old’ hospital everyone seeks, Gumyeong Hospital♪]

It was ironic that an advertisement for a completely different hospital was hung up near the station where Yusin lived, rather than one for Gyehwa Hospital. Furthermore, out of the countless hospitals out there, it just had to be an advertisement for Gumyeong Hospital.

In the distant past, there was a time when Gyehwa Hospital and Gumyeong Hospital were a single entity.

However, after weathering various incidents, a full ten years had already passed since they splintered apart.

Director Gu Myeongil of Gumyeong Hospital kept his mouth firmly shut whenever Gyehwa Hospital was mentioned, while Director Gye Byeongcheol of Gyehwa Hospital walked out of the room whenever Gumyeong Hospital was brought up.

Though they were once close enough to be business partners, they had now become worse than strangers.

Yehi stared for a moment at Gu Myeongil’s face displayed on the billboard.

Grandfather has aged a lot.

She didn’t know when the advertisement had been newly shot, but the wrinkles on his face were far more deeply etched than before.

The last time she had met her grandfather was already nine years ago.

It was on the first anniversary of her parents’ passing.

‘What do you mean you can’t go outside? Even so, you still have to go to high school. Someone who graduated via a qualification exam is absolutely unacceptable in our family.’

‘Let’s study while receiving psychological therapy or whatever that is, and slowly prepare for college. If you’re worried about money, don’t be. Your aunt will support you.’

‘The living must go on living. You can’t just keep acting like this forever.’

When her relatives hammered on her bedroom door as if to break it down while she couldn’t even bring herself to step out from beneath her blanket—let alone outside the house—it was her grandfather who stepped in and told them to stop.

She felt like she had been quite doted on by her grandparents when she was little, but everything changed after her parents passed away.

Following the incident, he would furrow his brow as if in pain whenever he looked at Yehi. It must have been a complex web of emotions regarding the fact that he was one of South Korea’s most prominent, renowned physicians, yet he had ultimately failed to save his own child and child-in-law.

At some point, Yehi also found it awkward to meet her grandfather, which led her to stop participating in family events, including her parents’ ancestral rites.

Therefore, the power of love was truly magnificent. Because today’s outing was solely for Yusin’s sake.

Adjusting her grip on her bag, Yehi hurried her short steps forward.

The luxury apartment complex in Seongsu-dong where Yusin resided was famous for its airtight security.

Just as Yehi completed roughly her third lap around the complex searching for an accessible entrance, a small side gate near the children’s park swung open and some kids came running out.

She was in luck. Yehi stood there pretending to hold the gate open for them, enabling her to slip inside.

Only after stealthily boarding the elevator did she realize that a single household occupied an entire floor.

To avoid being captured head-on by the CCTV, Yehi stared into the corner the entire time and pressed the button for Yusin’s floor using a wooden disposable chopstick she had brought from home.

Eventually, the elevator doors glided open.

Before she could even step outside, she saw a vast hallway packed to the brim with courier delivery boxes. They looked heavily neglected.

The moment she discovered a dust-covered crate of mandarin oranges nestled among them, the sensationalized news headlines she had encountered countless times over the past few days flashed rapidly through her mind.

Injury. Narcotics. In-team bullying. And extreme choices…

Feeling a chill run down her spine, Yehi swallowed hard.

The ultimate factor that spurred Yehi into taking action was the front door, which was left slightly ajar.

No matter how tight the security of an apartment was, was it normal to walk around leaving the door unlocked?

One could never guarantee that there wouldn’t be another bold outsider entering the complex by happening upon a cunningly perfect timing just like Yehi had.

Yet, to think he didn’t even lock his door. It was a bit rich coming from someone who had snuck in, but he was far too defenseless.

Why was it open? Had Yusin just closed it carelessly upon entering?

Or could it be… had someone forced the door open and broken in?

Thoughts laced with anxiety rapidly dredged up her traumatic memories.

What if Yusin was inside, crying out for help? What if, just like that day ten years ago—just like her mom and dad did—he was gasping for breath while clinging to life amidst blood-red agony?

Her heartbeat quickened. Scritch, scratch. Scratching at her neck, Yehi pushed the front door open with a trembling hand.

“H-Hello… anyone there?”

There was no response.

Ultimately, Yehi stepped into the residence.

Hesitating over whether to close the front door completely or leave it be, she left it slightly unlatched just in case an emergency arose.

The first thing that caught her eye was a distorted space.

It was a total mess. She had barely crossed the threshold of the entryway, yet all sorts of belongings lay scattered about like the debris of a violent storm.

Was it truly a burglar? Though her body felt as if it would freeze from terror, her feet moved of their own accord. The image of Yusin lying collapsed from an injury flickered before her eyes.

Yehi stepped out of her sneakers, which she had slipped on hastily, and lined them up neatly. She wanted to be as careful as possible to avoid making footsteps.

Because there was a moderate step down between the area where shoes were removed and the marble leading to the hallway, she stepped down carefully to avoid tripping.

Walking in only her socks felt cold against her soles, but since she wasn’t a guest, she couldn’t exactly pull out a pair of guest slippers to wear—nor were any guest slippers visible in the first place—so she headed inward on her tipties as much as possible.

An athletic duffel bag lay collapsed wide open. Wrist tape and knee braces spilled halfway out from within.

Deflated volleyballs lay strewn about the hallway like burst persimmons, and the trophy display case on the wall hung empty, tilting sharply to one side.

A silver cup trophy lay sideways on the floor. Judging by the long metallic scratch mark left against the wall, it appeared to have been hurled with great force.

A plaque with shattered edges and a team photo of the Red Roosters sagging from a missing nail hung crookedly, creating a strange, tense atmosphere.

Yehi crept forward haltingly, looking back anxiously from time to time.

The further inside she ventured, the brighter the light became.

Natural light was filtering in from the end of the hallway. That must be the living room, Yehi intuited.

Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, Yehi mustered her courage once more to call out to Yusin.

“P-Player Gye Yusin…!”

As expected, past the hallway emerged a bright living room.

The exact same scenery continued. The Red Roosters team jacket and training uniform lay tossed in a crumpled heap over the leather sofa.

“Ah…”

Yehi realized the true nature of the incongruity that had been bothering her the entire time.

The items cluttered around the house were exclusively related to volleyball. Everything else was perfectly intact. The television wasn’t smashed, nor were there any signs of food waste or household trash.

The kitchen, which she turned to check for confirmation, was instead pristine without a single speck of dust. The sink was bone dry, and the countertops were entirely bare.

Though there was a tub of protein powder presumably thrown toward the living room floor from the kitchen, and a cold gel pack seemingly yanked forcibly out of the freezer, those too were by no means entirely unrelated to volleyball.

While she felt a brief wave of relief that it wasn’t a burglar, a question began to sprout in a corner of her heart.

Why would he do such a thing? Was Yusin truly intending to quit volleyball for good?

Yehi was lost in thought, completely forgetting where she was standing, when the firmly shut bedroom door swung open with a violent thud.

A ten-year veteran of a shut-in, unrequited love.

She knew there were people who scoffed at applying the phrase ‘unrequited love’ to this form of affection.

Scoffing at how it could possibly be love when she had never even met the person. Labeling it as something needlessly bloated and grandiose when it was merely dark, stealthy, and pathetic.

However, Yehi knew what love was.

Love is being happy together when that person is happy, aching as if one were injured right alongside them when they are hurt, and feeling one’s heart tear apart when they grieve.

Because the love she had received continuously from her parents for sixteen years was exactly like that, Yehi loved the Yusin beyond the screen in that very same manner.

When Yusin clenched his fist and cheered after a successful spike, she laughed with him; when he suffered a fractured finger while executing a block, she spent the entire day biting her nails, completely restless and unable to sit still. When they suffered a reverse sweep right on the cusp of victory, seeing a less smiling Yusin made Yehi weep a river on his behalf.

She had even painted futures of whether she might meet Yusin one day.

A future where she would be sitting normally in the stands like any other fan, and Yusin would smile radiantly toward those fans, expressing his gratitude for their attendance.

Then, while thinking she wanted to fall into the deep dimples that formed by his mouth and die, she would have cheered for him with all her heart.

Until yesterday, the template of her imagination had been quite similar.

Even if they crossed paths by pure chance in front of his house, she would quietly hand over the trophy, and Yusin would smile upon seeing the stolen trophy of his dreams.

Even if she failed to speak properly as practiced, if she handed over the stationary paper, Yusin would have accepted it. Because Yusin was always gentle toward his fans.

Therefore, she had never envisioned a meeting of this kind.

“This is getting really tedious…”

She had never envisioned a version of Yusin who would input 112 into his cell phone screen and click his tongue in utter irritation like this.