Page 98 of Scarbound

Instinct took over. He tried to pull free, but Chung-Hee caught him before he could move farther, turning him gently, but firmly, back toward the photograph. He stepped in behind him, one hand settling beneath Noeul’s jaw to guide his face toward Haneul’s smiling image, the other resting lightly against his shoulder. He was close enough that Noeul could feel his breath against the side of his neck.

“Your reaction hurts more than you know,” Chung-Hee whispered, his voice low and controlled. “Why are you in such a hurry to leave? We haven’t even reached the reason I invited you here.”

“Why, hyung?” Noeul asked, his trembling voice barely audible. Tears welled in his eyes. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

I didn’t do anything wrong.

His mother’s voice echoed in his mind. Haneul had believed Noeul didn’t know. Chung-Hee had told himself Haneul was protecting him. Noeul knew enough. He chose his brother.

A hollow laugh escaped Chung-Hee. It sounded wrong, even to him. The laughter faded into something closer to a broken breath as he lowered his head, fighting to regain control.

How could he reconcile the two versions of the man standing before him: the gentle, selfless Noeul who apologized for everything and the boy who had remained silent while Gong destroyed Haneul?

“You really think you did nothing wrong?” he asked quietly. “You have the courage to stand before my brother’s shrine and tell me that?”

Noeul shook his head immediately. “No… that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I…” His voice faltered. “I didn’t kill him.”

Silence.

Those words again. The same ones Noeul had spoken to his mother. For one brief second, Chung-Hee wanted to believe him. Then Haneul’s words returned. I don’t think Noeul knows. Chung-Hee forced them away. Haneul had loved Noeul. He had been protecting him. That was what Chung-Hee had believed for years because the alternative left him with no one living to blame.

Noeul still knew enough.

His jaw tightened. “It seems you’ve forgotten the impact your choices had on my family. Perhaps you should pay tribute to Haneul’s shrine and ask for his forgiveness.”

Noeul instinctively tried to step back, but Chung-Hee guided him toward the shrine.

“No…” Noeul resisted, his heels scraping against the polished floor. “Hyung, please.”

His heart pounded painfully against his ribs. The room, the shrine, Chung-Hee standing behind him, everything reminded him of the cemetery.

“How could I forget?” he whispered. Then louder, “How?”

His voice cracked. “I think about him every day! I know I failed him. I know.”

He covered his face with trembling hands as sobs shook his body. “Three years have passed, and I haven’t known peace for a single day. My brother destroyed himself trying to atone for what he did. He died believing that was the only way to make things right.”

Noeul looked toward Haneul’s photograph. “I lost my best friend. I lost my twin. Our families were destroyed.”

He slowly turned toward Chung-Hee. His expression wasn’t defensive anymore. Only exhausted.

“Tell me, hyung…” His eyes searched Chung-Hee’s desperately. “When does it become enough?”

For a heartbeat, Chung-Hee almost answered. Almost crossed the distance. Almost embraced him.

Then his mother’s voice returned.

He knew. He chose Gong.

The tenderness vanished.

He shoved Noeul forward.

Noeul fell hard onto his knees in front of the shrine, the impact echoing through the room. He remained curled over himself, one hand braced against the floor as he tried to steady his breathing.