“This is not yours to make right.”
“I should have protected him.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I should have known.”
“You didn’t.”
Noeul shook his head again, refusing every word. “I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t clear anymore whether he was speaking to Chung-Hee or to Haneul.
Then Noeul pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. “I have to go.”
Chung-Hee stood too.
“I can’t stay here.” His hands were shaking violently. “I can’t look at you right now. I can’t think. I need to leave.”
He took a step toward the hallway. Then another. Chung-Hee reached for him instinctively.
Noeul recoiled so sharply that Chung-Hee stopped.
“Don’t touch me.”
The words came out frightened rather than angry.
Chung-Hee lowered his hand.
Noeul pressed both palms against his temples. “I can’t do this anymore.” His breathing quickened again. “You’re Haneul’s brother.”
“Yes.”
“And I’m Gong’s.”
“Noeul, please.”
“I have his face.” Noeul touched his own cheek as if the skin had become unfamiliar. “I have the same face.”
“You are not Gong.”
“I know that.”
“Noeul.”
“I need to leave.”
He turned toward the door. Then suddenly stopped and struck the side of his head with the heel of his hand. Once. Then again.
Chung-Hee caught his wrist before he could do it a third time. “Stop.”
“Let go.”
“You’re hurting yourself.”
“Let go of me!”
Noeul tried to wrench free.