Here is a young man without numbers.
Age: approximately 19 years old, name unknown.
No, it was stolen.
To those kids who are not even as good as a dog owner
We lost our home, our name, and our country.
[Short Story] Growing Pains
The beginning was unannounced. The midday market was bustling as usual, with women carrying baskets of vegetables, children giggling over something so delightful, and men holding out a single piece of meat, claiming it was theirs. Everything was an ordinary scene. That day could have been any ordinary day.
It was in the city of Shinshi that the air raid siren sounded. Everyone raised their heads in surprise at the sudden sound of gunfire, and some vanished into the flashing lights. Some lost a limb, some a child, some a parent, and some even lost the food and possessions that would have fed their families.
It was only a moment, but it was the most horrific day in recent memory. We still linger in that moment.
Several seasons passed after the terrorist attack, and countless deep nights passed. The terrified townspeople, one and all, refused to leave their homes. It would have been better if it had ended with a single air raid. With word of the police slowly taking over the entire city, we, the uninformed, could only wait in vain for news.
Moreover, the village was in an even more anxious state because the neighbors had gone out and disappeared without a word for several months, saying they could not bear to see their wives and children starve to death. I was only 12 years old, so I stayed inside the house with my mother without knowing the whole story. Fortunately, we had stockpiled enough food to last us through the winter, so we had a relatively peaceful winter.
But survival is survival, and I still had many questions. For example, my father abandoned the upright life he had always pursued. He would always go out in the middle of the night, and before morning, panting, he would slam the front door shut. He would then shut himself in his study, skipping breakfast and constantly working on something. I was deeply curious about what it was, but I couldn't bring myself to ask.
Looking through the crack in the door, my father's face was more serious and grave than any expression I'd ever seen growing up. I had no idea what was going on. I could only guess that the situation outside was unusual, but it was a difficult thing for a child in his early teens to accept.
As my doubts deepened, the following spring, my life changed 180 degrees when my father was taken away by the police.
"Follow me quickly!!!"
"honey!!!"
The police officers who burst into the house quickly tied my father up with a rope. They brandished the swords at their waists, threatening us, and then spit out incomprehensible words while beating my father again. My mother covered my mouth as I screamed in agony, and wept bitterly.
As my father walked out of the house as if he was being dragged, and as he looked at my mother and me with those honest eyes, a single tear, which I had never seen in my entire life, fell. After mouthing “I’m sorry” countless times, the sound of footsteps gradually faded away as the front door finally closed.
After that day, I never saw my father again.
About 7 years later, Gyeongseong.
"SAKU(사쿠)!!"
"What are you doing there!!!"
"Ah, Tetsuya. I was just taking a break."
"What are you talking about? Don't you know it's patrol time soon?"
"You have to go in quickly so you don't get dragged off to prison."
Tetsuya, a friend I met at the school I struggled to get into. Unlike me, he has a melancholic personality and a quick smile, which makes me feel close to him. He seems to be obsessed with me, as he's been trying to break my habit of following me around and wandering outside during curfew, even though I call him Sakura.
"Prison... what kind of place is it?"
"They said that anyone who goes in there will never come back alive."
"They pulled out my fingernails, cut off my toes, and tortured me in all sorts of ways."
"Then when you die, you'll be left miserably behind."
"... miserably, abandoned..."
After my father was taken away, my mother raised me with even greater sternness. And soon she told me everything. Why my father had to go out every night and come back at dawn, why he had to keep his study so secret.
One summer day, when the rain was falling lightly and it was dark all around even during the day, my mother covered my eyes and quickly went into the study. She spoke in a slightly agitated voice.
"... Seokjin, are you proud of your father?"
"Yes, of course."
"...Father will be pleased."
"Actually, your father is -----."
"... yes?"
"I hope you inherit your father's pride.
I hope to do something that makes my heart flutter in the future."
"Do you understand what Mother said?"
"......"
The words that came out of my mother's mouth were truly shocking. It may not seem so surprising now, but back then, when I first heard my father's secret, I was speechless. Back then, I didn't know anything about the outside world, let alone the incident itself. Of course, a mere 13-year-old child would have to do something like that.independence activistWhat would you know about it?
At the time, I would have resented my father for secretly participating in the independence movement, hiding it from me, his own son. But now, I understand all too well the hidden meaning behind it. He was probably worried that if his identity were revealed, my family, my mother and I, would face retaliation. For some reason, after my father was arrested, the police never visited our house again, but I remember him staying up all night, afraid to close his eyes.
The memories of that time are still vivid even after several years have passed.
My father... must have been in much more pain and fear than I was.
"... ha..."
"What, are you crying?"
"No, I didn't cry. It was just dust that got in because of the wind."
"See you tomorrow, Tetsuya."
"Yeah, don't be late!"
After sending Tetsuya away, I opened the dilapidated exterior door with a creak, and a musty, moldy smell wafted out. I walked across the wooden floor, which creaked even with careful footing, and reached for the doorknob of a small room inside the building.
""Saku, did you just get in?"
The landlady I met just as I was about to open the door. We've been living in this house and have been seeing each other all along, so we're close, but Sakura's name always feels unfamiliar even when she calls me from a familiar voice.
"I just met up with a friend for a bit."
"By the way, ma'am, when it's just the two of us
"I told you not to call me by that name."
"Oh my gosh, I'm sorry."
"I was afraid the police might hear..."
"It's not even my real name anyway."
"The name Kim Seok-jin is more comfortable."
"Okay, okay. Be careful from now on."
"By the way, is work going well?"
"I'll probably have a plan in a week."
"Then I'll tell you first."
The woman, with a look of half worry and half trust, silently patted my back. I didn't refuse her touch, and only after she pushed me into the room, saying I must be tired, was I able to put my bag down.
Phew— I sighed and flicked on the small light. What appeared on the wall, along with the sight of an old room, was red and blue paint smeared all over it. Someone might think it was some kind of graffiti, but it wasn't just some random, meaningless coloring.
A circular frame drawn on a wooden board, with four branches branching out in all directions, and a single curve running through the center were embroidered on it.
Along with a crumpled note that looked like someone had thrown it from a window.
"The date has been set."
"See you in three days, on the 13th, at the Central Prison."
"...Phew..."
Reading the note, my body felt warm. The thought that this resolution, the starting point and meaning of everything, would be unveiled in just three days, made my clenched hands ache. On that day, the most important day for him and this nation, the day when everyone's aspirations would resonate, the moonlight was unusually bright, as if to honor the future.
Using the light pouring in through the window as a lamp, I picked up a pen. The emotions I held in my slightly trembling hands were transmitted through the paper.
The pen stopped moving, and my sweaty hands lifted from the paper. I felt a tingling sensation, as if I had just completed an essay, even though I hadn't written anything long.
My heart pounded faster and faster, my body gasping for breath as it couldn't keep up, but I didn't care. The moment I would finally feel alive was just around the corner. I tore off a piece of paper stuck to the wall, and finally smiled. A small pattern, a harmonious blend of red, blue, and black. Though not flashy, the powerful colors filled my eyes and heart.
The Taegeukgi I saw at that moment was more beautiful than anything else.
I didn't go to school for two days. I knew the teacher would be furious, but what good was scolding someone who was practically dying? With no way of knowing whether I would survive or die the day after tomorrow, I kept in regular contact with my companions. I was grateful to those who had run alongside me for the 13th, and among them was Tetsuya.
Tetsuya is a mysterious child the more I look at him, and although he is definitely Korean, he has never told me his real name.
The night before the uprising, Tetsuya and I stayed together at an inn near the prison. We could have laughed, chatted, and joked around like we always did, but somehow we didn't feel like doing that. Perhaps it was because both Tetsuya and I felt a heavy sense of duty.
As the strangely awkward silence continued to grow longer, I opened my mouth.
"Tetsuya (테츠야)."
"huh? Saku, what's going on?"
"If this goes well... can you tell me your name?"
"...What the heck, all of a sudden?"
"...I'm grateful, yes."
"Even as time passes, it's not Tetsuya
I want to remember you by name."
"......"
Tetsuya seemed to hesitate for a moment. Perhaps it was because I'd never asked him this question before, but it didn't take long for me to hear his answer.
"Okay. I'll tell you."
"...I wish I could tell you."
"...Why are you so anxious?"
"But it's true."
"We are destined to die at any time, so it wouldn't be strange."
"......"
I just didn't want to admit it, but Tetsuya's words were almost entirely true. We, living in a colonial era, were nothing more than colonized people. What a cruel fate.
With all sorts of thoughts going on, sleep became even more difficult, and we ended up spending the night with our eyes wide open. Finally, as dawn broke, with little sleep, Tetsuya blurted out a word.
"Seokjin, right now it feels like we're in infinite darkness."
"...What does that mean?"
"The surroundings are dark,
"It seems like there will be a light, but it doesn't seem like there will be a light..."
"I never knew losing my country would be so hard."
"......"
"But... but you know."
"The light that comes out in the dawn...
"Because there are people like us."
"Don't give up even in the dark
"People who create their own light."
Tetsuya took a moment to catch his breath, then swallowed back his slightly choked voice and continued speaking.
"So... let's definitely bring breakfast."
"And let us illuminate the world, so that it may be the brightest and longest day."
"...You'll do that, right?"
My answer was replaced by a firm handshake disguised as silence.
Two hands held tightly. From our clasped hands, which felt each other's heat, it seemed as if a red sun, like our will, was rising.
The next day, the streets were no different from usual.
Police officers roam the streets, and people mumble in broken Japanese, trying to keep an eye on them.
The only difference is that he is just a stranger standing at the back of the central prison.
"......"
"......"
Tetsuya, who was located at the back of the prison, waved his hand to signal to many people, including me. Although the environment was poor and there was no radio, everyone could understand.
'Run out on one, two, three.'
'One, two...'
The countdown begins, and the moment Tetsuya holds up three of his fingers.
"Long live Korean independence!"
"Long live Korean independence!"
"Long live Korean independence!"
"Long live Korean independence!!!!"
A huge crowd of spectators rushed out and filled the streets.
The vast space was quickly filled with a crowd of people, leaving no room to step, and another resonance penetrated the hearts of those watching it so deeply that it warmed their hearts.
The only word that came out of everyone's mouth.
"Long live Korean independence!"
How many days have we endured in blood-stained memories for this one thing, for this thing that should be taken for granted?
As expected, the police attacked mercilessly, but not a single one retreated.
To protect the future and glory of our country, our descendants and future, and my noble beliefs as a Korean who is not ashamed.
We fought.
Several people around us fell. It was the police officers firing their guns indiscriminately. Blood splattered everywhere, and the terrified men broke away, causing the camp to collapse, but even that was only temporary. Everyone continued to shout with one voice. I, too, led them forward at the front.
At that moment,
bang-
"Keuhp... ugh..."
... ah...
My consciousness became clouded.
The moment I saw blood gushing out of his mouth,
I was lying on the floor.
An unimaginable pain, accompanied by a chill, stabbed my abdomen. Despite my attempts to stop it, the blood continued to flow, and before I knew it, my clothes were stained crimson. As I stepped on people moving around, a thought suddenly occurred to me.
'... So this is how you die.'
Still, to this extent,
'It was an upright life.'
"ha..."
My eyes closed and I let out my last sigh.
Even the pain gradually faded away, and my mind became blank.
Really, it's the end...
"hey !!!!"
"...Tetsuya..."
"Get up!! Get up!!!!"
Tetsuya, who had come running from somewhere, pushed his way through the crowd and helped me up. Careful not to open my wound, and oblivious to the fact that my blood had stained his clothes, we were able to enter a nearby alley.
"Ugh... no..."
"No, please...!!! Wake up, Kim Seokjin!!!"
"Haa... Tetsuya..."
"Don't talk, please don't do anything..."
Tears fell from Tetsuya's eyes, one by one. It was difficult to even utter a single word, but he couldn't ignore the tears, so he forced himself to answer, but the wound festered even more.
Ah... there was one last thing I wanted to say.
"... Tetsuya, thank you."
"...taehyung."
"It's Kim Taehyung. My name is..."
"......"
Thank you, Taehyung.
About five years later,
Someone slowly approached the grave of a certain person, covered in green weeds, making a knocking sound.
He laid a small flower in front of the grave, bowed twice, and then began to mutter to himself.
Oh, that's right. You're not alone.
"... In the end, it's all over for us now."
"We speak Korean and there is no curfew."
"Forced conscription and all that has disappeared now."
"I wish you could see this..."
Someone kept talking, in a tone that made it seem like they were having a conversation. Someone might think they were crazy, but they weren't.
Because his conversation partner was sleeping right here.
"...I miss you, Seokjin."
Taehyung stood up from his seat with tears in his eyes. He looked at Seokjin's grave with eyes filled with reminiscence, then turned around and quietly muttered his last words.
"Thank you for giving us bright, long days."