The Weight of Staying

“That’s not what I meant….”

“I’m trying to save my grandson.”

Insuk cut Seha off as he tried to refuse again.

In her voice, declaring she would save her grandson, there was something impossible to reject—no, a kind of desperation.

“You must have precious family too, Jin Seha.”

“…Yes.”

At that moment, the image of his one and only younger sibling surfaced in Seha’s mind.

His sole treasure.

The meaning of his life.

The one person he wanted to make happy, even if it meant staking everything he had.

“Then you can understand my heart.

I don’t care if the chance is only 0.1%.

If there’s even the slightest possibility of saving my child, I’m prepared to give not ten billion, but far more than that.”

“I… understand what you’re saying….”

In the end, Seha had no choice but to accept it.

If Sejin were in danger.

If Sejin were dying.

And if someone—anyone—who had saved him even once told Seha there was a way.

Then Seha would gladly stake everything he had on that possibility, even if the entire world called him foolish and pathetic.

There was no room for calculating gains and losses.

To Seha, his sibling was that kind of existence.

Some people who knew Seha even pitied him, calling him foolish for sacrificing his entire life for his younger brother.

But Seha never cared about those looks.

To Insuk, Jeongyun must be the same.

“…I’ll try to endure.”

After a brief silence, Seha answered.

“There isn’t much I can do, but still… I’ll stay close to Cha Jeongyun.

That’s something I can do well.”

“…Thank you, Jin Seha.”

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

As Seha stood up to bow, Insuk rose as well.

“I’ll have a car called for you, so take it.

Jeongyun probably left first….”

“No, it’s okay.

I can just take the bus.

Please don’t worry about it.”

“How could I allow that.

This is for my peace of mind, so please take the car.”

“…Alright.”

Seeing that Insuk clearly wouldn’t back down, Seha stopped refusing and obediently left the room.

There was no reason to decline when she was offering to take him comfortably.

Once outside the chairman’s office, a secretary naturally escorted Seha forward.

By the time they reached the elevator, Manager Kim—whom Seha had seen before—joined them.

“Hello, Manager!” Seha greeted him reflexively, then added,

“Don’t tell me you’re personally taking me home?”

“Yes.

It’s the chairwoman’s instruction.

I’ll escort you comfortably.”

“I really could’ve taken the bus.

I’m sorry to trouble you….”

“Not at all.

A guest precious to the chairwoman is a precious guest to me as well, so please don’t worry.”

Manager Kim pressed the arriving elevator button himself and saw Seha in.

Once again stepping into the massive machine, Seha looked out at the cityscape spread beyond the glass.

In a world this vast, how many people’s storms must be raging at this very moment.

Do you even care how miserable that makes me.

Jeongyun’s voice, bursting out as if he were crying, and the image of him trapped under sleep paralysis, unable to breathe properly, overlapped in Seha’s mind.

His mood sank just a little.

He missed his younger sibling unbearably.

The person Seha had to face now, instead of the sibling he missed, was Cha Jeongyun.

Standing at the entrance, Seha let out a short, resolute sigh before carefully opening the door and stepping inside.

He hoped they wouldn’t run into each other.

After such emotional exhaustion earlier, Jeongyun might have gone straight to bed.

Even if not, the house was large enough that Seha might be able to sneak into his room unnoticed if he was lucky.

Trying his best not to make a sound, Seha headed toward the living room.

With only Cha Jeongyun left in the house, it was so quiet it bordered on silence.

On the way home in Manager Kim’s car, Seha had received a call from Donghyun.

Donghyun apologized for leaving Seha alone, explaining that Jeongyun had been so insistent that he had no choice but to return first.

Seha hadn’t been offended by that at all.

He wasn’t a child, and it wasn’t like he needed to be driven home together.

The problem was that Jeongyun had sent Donghyun away, saying he wanted to be alone.

Seha had thought it might be better if Donghyun were around.

Now, imagining himself alone in the house with Jeongyun—whose mood was surely at rock bottom—made his chest feel tight.

It wasn’t that he was afraid Jeongyun would harass him.

If anything, Seha was more worried about Jeongyun’s condition.

Seha knew all too well what it meant to lose one’s family, especially one’s parents.

He knew how it could shatter a person’s entire world.

If he hadn’t had a younger sibling to take responsibility for, Seha himself might not have survived.

Jeongyun had been even younger, and he’d faced his parents’ deaths in the most horrific way imaginable.

How deep that pain must have been.

Seha felt uneasy, wondering if his presence was only digging deeper into Jeongyun’s already painful wounds.

Then again, Jeongyun would cry in the backseat of a Lamborghini, while Seha had cried silently in a one-pyeong bathroom with the water running so his sibling wouldn’t hear.

Who was he to worry about whom.

Either way, meeting now wouldn’t be good for either of them.

Praying that Jeongyun had already gone into his room, Seha cautiously peeked into the living room.

“……”

In that instant, Seha’s heart dropped.

Despite feeling no presence at all, Cha Jeongyun was sitting conspicuously on the sofa.

Worse still, he was staring straight at Seha, as if he’d known all along and had been waiting.

Sneaking in quietly had been pointless.

“You’re here.”

Embarrassed, Seha blurted out something awkward, barely aware of what he was saying.

Jeongyun stood up the moment he heard it and strode toward Seha.

His presence was so fierce that Seha’s shoulders shrank back involuntarily.

Would he grab his collar.

Or seize his shoulders.

Surely he wouldn’t pull his hair.

As countless possibilities flashed through Seha’s mind, Cha Jeongyun stopped right in front of him and spoke.

“You’re going to be punished by heaven.”

A low, heavy voice.

Rather than savage, it carried a dark, oppressive weight that pressed down on Seha.

“If things like karma and misfortune really exist, then you’ll be the first to be punished.”

The emotion behind those words wasn’t simple anger.

It felt older.

Stickier.

Like a resentment that had been festering for a long time.

That was why Seha didn’t feel like the words were truly aimed at him.

No matter how much of a fraud he was, he hadn’t caused any real damage yet.

Even if he were to truly scam them, the impact on their family would be less than dirt on the tip of a toe.

This wasn’t the kind of emotion one would direct at someone like that.

It felt as though Jeongyun was cursing himself.

As if all the misfortune that had befallen his parents and his grandmother stemmed from him, and that he was the one destined to be punished.

Seha parted his lips.

The words he wanted to say, the words he could say, swirled in his mind.

He could apologize out of habit.

He could say he’d told the chairwoman today that maybe it would be better for him to quit.

He could tell Jeongyun that it was his grandmother who kept asking him to stay, and that Jeongyun should persuade her instead of taking it out on him.

But what came out between his parted lips was none of those things.

“I might really be your good-luck charm, Cha Jeongyun.”

The words felt so unreal that Seha wasn’t even shocked after saying them.

It felt like they hadn’t come from his own mouth.

Was it defiance.

Was it backlash against Jeongyun, who had lured someone desperate for life with money and then treated Seha like the root of all evil.

Even Seha couldn’t tell.

“I can’t undo past tragedies, but I might really be able to save you from the misfortune that’s coming.”

Seha knew it was nonsense.

Provoking someone already furious with absurd words meant a punch might actually fly this time.

A taut tension stretched between them.

As Seha found himself thinking something ridiculous—If he’s going to hit me, I hope it’s my face so the mark is obvious—Jeongyun finally spoke.

“Bullshit.”

The tension that felt ready to explode collapsed in an instant.

Jeongyun had cursed, but there was no sting to it at all.

His voice carried no venom whatsoever.

That deflated reaction was so unexpected that Seha nodded unconsciously, agreeing with him.

“…Yeah.

That was pretty bullshit.”

It slipped out without thinking, but it was honest.

Even Seha thought it was complete nonsense.

It seemed the conversation he’d had with Insuk earlier had left quite an impression on him.

Getting emotional like this wasn’t like him at all.

“You really are…!”

Seha wasn’t the only one flustered by the unexpected reply.

Jeongyun’s face flushed slightly as he raised his eyes, looking as though he might yell again.

But he soon realized that continuing the conversation would only make his head explode, and shut his mouth.

“Forget it.

Why am I even talking to a fake shaman.”

He turned and went straight into his room.

Seha stared blankly at Jeongyun’s retreating back.

After what had just happened—and after saying such nonsense—he thought he might really get kicked out this time.

Even if it didn’t go that far, it was obvious he’d be subjected to even worse insults for much longer.

That was why he’d hoped not to run into Jeongyun at all.

No matter how absurdly he’d caught him off guard, he hadn’t expected Jeongyun to just let it go.

“Haa….”

Once Jeongyun was completely out of sight, Seha let out a long breath without thinking.

He’d even braced himself for getting hit.

Thankfully, it hadn’t come to that.