Childhood Friend of the Zenith Novel MTL - Chapter 878

Chapter 878

«My head is spinning.»
Each time the strange voice echoed inside my mind, a wave of nausea washed over me.
Clutching my chest, I tried to steady my breathing, but even that felt difficult.
What is this? What is this sensation?
My sight grew blurry.
The sounds I was hearing began to distort my vision. The surroundings shifted.
The person I had been facing—Tang So-yeol in the dead of night—vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar setting.
It was too misty to see clearly, but it was certainly not night.
If anything, it appeared to be a bright day. The faint hues of autumn leaves suggested the time of year.
Where is this? What place is this, and when? Why is this happening to me?
And then—
“Just a little more.”
Despite my disorientation, I felt myself drawn into the scene, wanting to see further.
I couldn’t look away. Or perhaps… I simply desired it.
It was an emotion beyond my understanding.
Yet, for some reason, I needed to see. The blank-faced figure seated before a cabin I didn’t recognize—it was me, and someone else.
«Yes, just like that.»
The woman smiled, seeming pleased that I had spoken her name.
But then—
«Always like this. Please, always stay this way.»
There was a sorrow hidden in her smiling tone. It made me ask:
“Why?”
Why do you sound so sad? Why, even after getting what you wanted, does your voice carry such grief?
I asked, but no reply followed.
Maybe the woman didn’t answer. Or perhaps the voice from within the memory was silent. I couldn’t tell.
«Say it.»
But I needed to hear it.
«Tell me.»
I wanted to seize her and demand a response, but the version of me in the memory seemed unable to speak further.
It was suffocating. This paralysis, this frozen moment—it made everything feel even more stifling.
Why am I so restless and agitated?
I didn’t know that either.
«Move, damn it.»
Gritting my teeth, I strained against the stillness, fully aware that my struggle wouldn’t affect the memory.
Still, I had to try.
As I poured all my strength into the futile effort—
Swoosh.
«…!»
The blurred outline of my figure began to shift.
Was I the one moving? I couldn’t be certain, but the motion matched my will.
My hand lifted.
The woman flinched at the movement. Her expression remained unclear, still veiled in haze.
«…You?»
Her voice was startled.
At that moment—
«Young Master…!»
«…!»
The sudden call snapped me back to reality.
«Young Master… are you all right?»
«…Ah…»
Tang So-yeol’s face came into focus. She reached out and softly touched my cheek.
«Why… Why are you crying, Young Master? Is it because of me…?»
Crying? Her words made me quickly wipe my eyes.
It was true. My eyes were damp, if only slightly.
I couldn’t believe it.
«What is this?»
Why am I suddenly weeping like a fool? And what was that memory just now?
Lost in bewilderment, I froze.
«I… I’m sorry….»
Tang So-yeol’s voice brought me back. I looked at her.
«What?»
«It’s my fault, isn’t it? I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to, I just…»
«What are you talking about? It’s not that.»
I rushed to reassure her, but her unsettled expression remained.
«I’m sorry.»
«Wait, no….»
«I’ll leave you be. Please rest well.»
Before I could stop her, Tang So-yeol turned to go.
For a second, I thought of letting her leave, but then I glimpsed her eyes as she turned away.
Her reddened eyes looked as though they could spill tears at any moment.
Seeing that, my hand moved on its own.
I caught her and pulled her into my embrace.
«…I’m sorry.»
«…»
«It’s not like that. Truly, it’s not.»
I stumbled over my words. Tang So-yeol stayed silent but held tightly to me.
Her earlier question about whether I loved her replayed in my thoughts. What answer had I meant to give?
I didn’t need to recall. How could I forget something from moments ago?
The issue was—
«I can’t answer that right now.»
I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
Tang So-yeol shifted slightly in my arms.
«…Why?»
Her voice was barely a whisper.
«Is it because you’re uncertain…? Or is it something else?»
The tremor in her voice laid bare her deep unease.
«…No. It’s neither.»
Uncertain? That wasn’t it. And if it wasn’t love? That wasn’t true either.
«It’s just… I can’t say it now.»
At least not at this moment. Not right now.
If I were to say it now, everything I had been holding back would pour out uncontrollably.
«Somehow, I’ve been holding on.»
Even as a fool, I understood the emotions surrounding me.
And those emotions, aimed at me, were difficult to handle.
But I had to endure it.
«Because now is not the time.»
I hadn’t achieved anything. I hadn’t settled anything.
Until I did, it wasn’t the time to say it.
At least after everything was resolved.
At least then.
«So just… Just wait a little longer.»
«…»
Her grip on my back tightened.
«How long is ‘a little’?»
It was a naive question.
Like a child asking how many days were left until a certain event.
How should I respond? I couldn’t afford to overthink it.
This time, I had to speak from the heart.
«It won’t take long.»
Even if it wasn’t a firm answer, it was the best I could offer.
It truly wouldn’t take long.
No, even if it might, I would ensure it didn’t.
«…»
Tang So-yeol didn’t challenge my vague reply.
She simply stayed there, her head resting against my chest.
After a long pause—
«…Okay.»
Tang So-yeol spoke without lifting her head.
«I’ll wait… because I’m confident I can.»
Her words held a strange bitterness.
«But, in exchange…»
Tang So-yeol raised her head. Our eyes met. Hers were still tinged with red.
«When the time comes and you can say those words, please say them to me first.»
«…What?»
«I know. I know you’re not the type to say those words to only one person.»
«…»
I felt wretched. I couldn’t deny it, but I also couldn’t look away, so I swallowed my discomfort.
«No matter what you’ve done or what you’re like, I know I’m not the only one who could love even that part of you. So it’s okay.»
«…»
Tang So-yeol let out a faint laugh.
«Your face looks really funny right now, Young Master.»
«…That….»
«Will you promise me?»
Her request was simple: when the time came, I should tell her first.
Scratching my cheek, I hesitated before answering.
«…I’ll try.»
«Okay.»
Apparently, even that weak response was enough to make Tang So-yeol smile.
«Make sure you do.»
Her smile brightened, and I returned it awkwardly.
Just as it seemed the tension had eased—
«But, Young Master.»
«Hm?»
Tang So-yeol asked.
«Who is Yehwa?»
«…»
Oh, damn.
The mood froze instantly.
Tang So-yeol was still smiling, but her smile was frightening.
«You heard that, huh.»
She must have caught the name I’d spoken without realizing.
In other words, I was in trouble.
«Is it a woman? Who is she?»
«…Did I say that? I don’t really—»
«Your expression says you know you did.»
«…»
Crap.
I seriously thought about running, but her arms tightened around me.
Tight enough to make me fear my body might break.
Crack.
«Ah… that hurts?»
«It’s supposed to.»
«Oh, right.»
I see. It’s meant to hurt. Well, I probably deserve it.
«Who is she?»
«…Uh, that’s….»
«Young Master, I hate to say this, but I really don’t like it when the number grows.»
«Who’s adding numbers here?»
«You have a conscience, don’t you? Right?»
«…»
Did I? It felt too late to be asking that.
«…Right?»
«Of course. Obviously.»
Her tone was sharp, and I answered in a hurry. Now was the moment to invent a conscience if necessary.
«Who is she?»
Her voice made it clear she wouldn’t drop this. Not even the Cheonma matter had provoked such intensity.
The problem was—
«…I wonder.»
«What?»
I didn’t really have an answer to give.
«Who could it be?»
«What do you mean…?»
«I really don’t know. Who could it be?»
Tang So-yeol frowned at my response, but I was being honest.
I didn’t know who Yehwa was.
If anything, I wanted to know more than she did.
To the point of obsession.

******************

The rustle of grass drifted on the night wind. A sliver of moon hung in the sky. As if hinting at autumn’s end, the scent of winter began to lace the air.
«…»
Someone was perched on a rock, gazing up at the sky.
Tonight, the heavens were perfectly clear, without a single cloud. Perhaps it was this rarity that held her attention; the woman stared with a distant, empty look in her eyes.
What could she be thinking? Her expression gave nothing away, making it impossible to guess.
«…Hm.»
After silently watching the sky for some time, the woman let out a low hum and lifted her hand. She opened her palm and brushed her chest a few times.
«…Umm…»
Her reaction hinted that something felt unusual. Her face showed confusion, as if she couldn’t quite grasp it.
Her striking violet eyes shifted restlessly, caught in a whirl of thought.
«What is this?»
Something felt odd today.
«What is this…?»
It was hard to put into words. The more she pondered, the more elusive it became. She tilted her head one way, then the other, trying to decipher the unfamiliar feeling.
«Hmm. Hmm. Hmm.»
With each movement, she made a soft sound.
It was unexpectedly childish behavior, contrasting with her mature appearance.
After fidgeting for a while, the woman finally stilled.
«I don’t know. Hmm, I don’t know.»
She reached a conclusion.
«I miss them.»
Who was she missing? Even the woman herself didn’t know.
Her words were instinctive, rising from somewhere deep within.
«Do I miss them?»
She immediately rephrased it as a question.
«Hmm.»
Her legs swayed gently in the air. And then—
«Yeon-ah! Yeon-ah! Where has she gone off to now?»
A voice called from a distance, and the woman went still.
In that instant, a dark energy seeped from her shadow, spreading out and enveloping the space around her.
«Yeon—!»
The voice cut off abruptly. The seclusion was intentional. She had chosen to be alone for now.
Besides—
That’s not my name.
She wasn’t «Yeon.» She allowed it because it was what her sister called her, but no matter how she tried, she couldn’t accept it.
Her instincts rebelled against it. That name wasn’t hers.
She had been told, even warned, not to embrace it as her own.
If that was true—
Then, what is my name?
What could her name be? What was it that made «Yeon» feel so wrong?
This was the deepest question she had ever faced.
If she disliked the name, she could have simply said it wasn’t hers. She could have told her sister she was someone else, that her name was different.
I don’t know.
She rejected the name, yet she had no idea what her true name was.
…I don’t know.
What was a name, really?
Perhaps, in truth, it wasn’t the name itself that mattered.
…What matters…
…was who called it. To her, that meant far more.
Someone who truly knew her name and would call her by it—that was what she yearned for.
She had been waiting for that person.
«Hmm…»
Her chest felt heavy. She clutched it tightly. It was constricting, painful.
She didn’t want to think anymore.
Ssss—
The enclosed space she had created to conceal herself shrank further as the woman closed her eyes.
She hated the loneliness of the night.
All she wanted was for the light to return, for the day to break.
Just as it always did.