One day in January 2007.
There were only five months left until the Biennale, which was set to begin in June.
It was a time when smartphones were slowly making their appearance, and the Korean won bills were transforming into the designs I was familiar with.
The world was still bustling as ever.
But my uncle, Ara teacher, and I were strolling leisurely through our old neighborhood.
The very place where my uncle and I had once lived in a semi-basement villa, and where Daesan Elementary School used to be.
“…”
Even though it had been a long time since I last visited,
the neighborhood remained as old and unchanged as ever.
‘From what I remember, redevelopment didn’t happen here for almost another 20 years, so the scenery wouldn’t have changed.’
Of course, we weren’t here just for a casual visit.
– Click.
I was sitting on my uncle’s shoulders, filming with a camcorder—capturing the narrow alleyways where old bicycles were abandoned here and there.
My uncle had been carrying me on his shoulders for a while now, walking the same path over and over again. Ara teacher was carefully following us from a short distance behind.
“…”
“…”
“…”
– Tick!
I pressed the stop button on the camcorder.
“Okay, that should be enough. Let’s move on to the next location, Uncle.”
As soon as the filming ended,
my uncle let out a sigh.
“Haah… Seriously, what’s there to film in this rundown neighborhood? If it’s for the Biennale, shouldn’t you be shooting something cool? There are tons of places with amazing night views, like Myeong-dong or the Han River.”
“I have my reasons. Besides, this is the place where you and I fought to survive. Same for Ara teacher.”
“…That’s true, but did you really have to film from my shoulders?”
Ara teacher smiled softly at the sight.
“Maybe it’s because Tae-oh is so tall? Hana really does look like a little Thumbelina up there.”
“Exactly. My sister was over 170 cm tall, and my brother-in-law was just as big as me… So where did such a tiny kid like you even come from?”
“…Uncle, it’s not like I chose to be small.”
“What? Hahaha!”
My uncle burst into laughter.
All I could do was pout at a problem I had no way of solving.
‘I’m already 14, but if I still haven’t even reached the average height of a second grader… Then I can pretty much kiss 160 cm goodbye.’
Ara teacher, as if to comfort me, spoke gently.
“But you have big dreams, great talent, and so much passion. I still can’t believe you were once my student. You’re such a determined young lady.”
“…I have no doubt that Hana will grow up to be a wonderful older sister or role model.”
“!”
Ara teacher’s eyes widened for a moment before she shyly smiled and took my uncle’s hand.
My uncle grinned widely in response.
“…”
“…”
Before I knew it, the two of them were walking side by side.
As their hands met, their strides naturally synchronized. Step by step… their pace slowed, as if savoring the moment.
A warmth, like a gentle spring breeze, filled the air.
It felt as though the whole world had disappeared, leaving only the two of them behind.
“…”
Noticing this…
Uh, excuse me.
I’m still here, you know.
“…”
‘I was trying not to interrupt, but…’
I cleared my throat.
“Ahem, ahem… Uncle. Sorry, but we don’t have time for this.”
“!”
“!”
Startled, Uncle and Ara teacher quickly let go of each other’s hands.
“…Right, of course. Haha, what was I thinking?”
“Y-yeah, you’re right.”
“…”
“…”
Awkward…
Ara teacher hastily spoke up, clearly eager to change the subject.
“Uh, but Hana, what exactly are you filming? And why are you doing it from Tae-oh’s shoulders?”
“Oh… That’s because of perspective.”
“Perspective?”
Ara teacher tilted her head in confusion.
“I’m filming from the eyes of a certain man.”
“A man?”
“A man?”
Uncle echoed the question with a puzzled expression.
“A man who no longer exists in this world. I’m walking through this place as he would have seen it.”
“?”
“?”
Uncle spoke again, still uncertain.
“And… who exactly is he?”
“…”
I gazed at the familiar scenery from an old, familiar height.
This was the street where Go Hun had left his childhood behind. The same street where, when I first walked out alone, I held onto Uncle’s photo in one hand, feeling utterly alone.
“…”
I knew his entire life.
And now, I was retracing it through his perspective.
But I wasn’t doing this to bring him back.
That’s why I answered.
“…Someone who will be born and die at this Biennale.”
*
A few days later.
Mija’s second oldest brother, Geonwoo, let out a hollow laugh as he looked at the building in front of him. The shabby structure already carried a gloomy atmosphere.
“Oh, this place. It’s a goshiwon that was built a few years ago. Coming back after so long feels kind of nostalgic.”
“!”
I turned to him and asked,
“Geonwoo oppa, you know this place too?”
“Of course. I lived here for a short time when I was a freshman in college.”
“…I see.”
At that, Mija giggled.
“Oppa, you moved out saying you were going to be independent after starting college, but you came back home after just a month, didn’t you? Geez, I’ve been living alone in the dorms just fine for three years now. You’re so weak… How are you even going to handle the military?”
As soon as she said that, Geonwoo silently stared at her. From my position, I couldn’t see his face well. But Mija’s face was slowly stiffening.
“W-what… I-it was just a joke, okay? Oppa, it’s a joke, a joke. There’s no way I’d seriously tease you like that. Don’t look at me so scarily.”
“…Sigh. Anyway, I already contacted the owner here, so we can go inside and start filming. They asked that we make sure not to capture any other rooms or people. And to be quiet…”
I nodded at the perfectly reasonable request.
“Yes, of course. We only need to film one room, anyway.”
“Oh… Was it the one you asked about before?”
“Yes.”
“Hana-chan, what kind of room is it?”
“….”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I smiled slightly and stepped inside. Geonwoo and Mija hesitated for a moment but soon followed.
The sound of our footsteps quietly echoed down the hallway.
“….”
A faint sense of nostalgia washed over me.
It was much cleaner than I remembered, but…
I could never forget this structure and layout.
‘Well, it has been ten years since I lived here. Of course, it’s much tidier and better maintained now. Back then, the stench from all over made it unbearable to live in.’
Compared to those days, this was practically a brand-new building.
Behind me, Mija spoke in a trembling voice, clearly uneasy.
“Now that we’re inside, it’s so old, dark, and depressing…! Oppa, how did you even live here for a whole month…?”
But Geonwoo didn’t answer. Instead, he gave her a warning.
“Mijang, lower your voice. It’s rude to the people who live here.”
“S-sorry…”
I let out a small chuckle at her reaction.
‘I wish I could show her what it looked like ten years later, too.’
And finally, we arrived at a room tucked in the corner. The door was already open, as if someone had been expecting us.
I stepped inside.
“….”
It was a tiny space. Even though I, a person barely 130 cm tall, had entered alone, there was so little room that I had to press against the wall. Compared to Hanul Dormitory, this place was nothing more than a glorified bathroom.
“….”
In this place, Go Hun had lived a fierce life.
And here,
he began filming the footage he needed.
The camcorder was running on the tripod.
Staring blankly at it, I lay down on the floor as the recording continued. The feeling of the surface pressing against my back was all too familiar so vivid, as if I had never left.
I wasn’t sure what this feeling was…
A complicated mix of emotions swirled inside me.
“…”
In this room, like a coffin, I lay with my hands folded over my stomach.
“…”
“…”
Mija and Geonwoo watched quietly from the hallway.
Noticing my expression, they didn’t say a word until the filming was over.
*
Palgon uncle had shown up after a long time to collaborate. He arrived energetically, carrying a large ladder.
“Ack! Long time no see, writer-nim!”
But the clothes he was wearing were quite unusual.
A blindingly fluorescent green work jacket—
completely sacrificing design for pure practicality. And on the chest, written in a tacky font, was the name of his business.
『Gonne Sign Shop』
“…”
I stared at that familiar name for a long time.
“…”
It was the most vivid outfit in my memories—
the very one Go Hun had seen up until the day he died.
Palgon proudly spread open his jacket and said,
“Thanks to the money I got last time, I was able to open my shop without taking out a loan. I can’t thank you enough.”
“…I’m glad to hear that.”
“So, what kind of filming is happening here?”
Palgon looked around curiously.
I followed his gaze.
“…”
This was an ordinary morning street in Seoul.
A middle-aged woman was unlocking the door of a newly opened supermarket. Countless office workers were walking briskly, each focused on their own tasks. Behind them, the sounds of cars passing filled the air.
A street that could exist anywhere.
A scene that could be found anywhere.
Yet this scenery felt like it was strangling me.
“…”
— Let go! Let go!
— Mr. Go! Open your eyes!
Though the street was quiet,
I could hear Palgon’s desperate, phlegm-filled voice from the past.
“…”
And then, from behind me came the voice of the real Palgon.
“…Writer?”
“…”
I turned around again.
Uncle Palgon, looking much younger than I remembered and with hair still quite full, was gazing at me with worried eyes. The way his thick hair fluttered wildly in the winter wind was strangely amusing.
I smiled and said,
“Let’s start filming.”
“…Yes!”
Palgon skillfully unfolded the ladder and checked to make sure it was securely fixed. Then, like a flying squirrel, he quickly climbed up.
From his position, he extended his hand toward me.
“Hand me the camera, and I’ll start filming!”
“…”
I was about to pass him the camcorder but hesitated.
“…”
“…Writer?”
My thoughts shifted slightly.
That moment. That scene.
Only I knew what it truly looked like.
That’s why I had to be the one to capture it.
I told Palgon,
“…I’ll go up and film it. Uncle Palgon, please hold the other side firmly.”
“Huh? The ladder… It’s dangerous, you know?”
“…It’s fine. I’ve done it before.”
“You have, Writer?”
“…”
I looked at Palgon as if asking him to trust me. Eventually, he quickly climbed back down and gripped the ladder firmly with his rough hands to ensure it wouldn’t shake.
Still holding it steady, he said,
“Please be very careful as you climb!”
“Yes.”
I held the camcorder in one hand and began to ascend the ladder.
Step by step, as I climbed higher, I could hear murmuring voices around me.
—Huh? Isn’t that Go Hana?
—Wait, oh! You’re right. The genius girl!
—Hana, what are you doing up there? That’s dangerous!
—Biennale, fighting!
“…”
They were all strangers to me.
When Go Hun had climbed this ladder,
these same people had simply passed by without a glance.
But now, they were watching me.
Still, I didn’t stop climbing.
Carefully, cautiously, one step at a time.
Clatter, clatter.
Finally, when I reached the top of the ladder, I could see that sight again.
“…”
I sat at the very top of the ladder and turned on the camcorder. Through its multiple layers of lenses, I could once again see that scene from back then.
This was the place where Go Hun had fallen into the darkness of death.
“…”
A strange thought crossed my mind.
‘…If I were to jump down with the camcorder in my hands, wouldn’t it perfectly recreate that moment?’
“…”
What would happen then?
Would I wake up again as the young ‘Go Hun’?
Would I be able to repeat my success?
Or… would I finally be able to confess to ‘Yujin’ when I met her again?
…Those kinds of thoughts.
“…”
But I let go of them.
After all, ever since I collapsed from electrocution, my mind had been hazy, and my memories were unreliable, likely from the shock. I couldn’t even be sure if they were real. Besides, there was no need to recreate death just to document it.
Instead, I stayed composed,
focusing solely on capturing the final scene before me.
—Click.
“…”
Dozens of minutes later, I finished filming.
I took my eyes off the camcorder. And in that instant, the scenery of ‘Go Hun’ vanished, replaced by the landscape of the present.
“…Ha.”
I exhaled, watching as my breath turned white in the cold air.
“It’s over now.”
It was time to go there.