Chapter 89: A Long-Awaited Encounter (4)

Chapter 89: Chapter 89 – A Long-Awaited Encounter (4) ###

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

That was right. Juho had been writing in order to consume his emotions. In Hyun Do’s own words, he had “digested” them.

“But it seems more like a habit.”

“Which means you write like it’s your habit.”

It was just as Hyun Do said. Whenever he was angry, Juho had reached for his pen ever since he was young. It had eventually become a habit, and for that reason, he didn’t think of writing as something that needed practice or training.

One eventually became a better writer the more they wrote. Assuming that everything he had written so far had been a way to express his anger, Hyun Do’s conjecture would make sense.

“You’ve been naturally embodying your emotions in your writing. Over time, that habit’s turned into something that sets you apart as an author. Writing sincerely is one of the most difficult things to do, but on the other hand, it’s also the easiest. At times, even a child can write something with sincerity.”

“So what does that make me?”

“In your case, it wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that your talent came with practice. Although, you don’t seem to be too caught up with people calling you a genius,” added Hyun Do, examining Juho’s face intently.

‘He must have figured it out already,’ Juho thought. With a smile, he decided to admit it, “You’re right. I’m after a different title.”

“That’s wise,” he said as he changed the subject. “In this field, there’s nothing more foolish than coveting after talent.”

‘Drag.’ The door opened as soon as Hyun Do finished speaking. The food had finally come out. The table was filled with various kinds of dishes, and Juho studied the food, which was Hyun Do’s go-to item on the menu.

“I’m seeing fish?”

“Hope it’s to your liking.”

“I’m not very picky.”

“That’s good. Being picky is fatal to an author.”

The statement wasn’t exclusively for food. Prejudice. Bias. Those were the things that authors had to avoid at all cost. Juho nodded immediately as he understood what Hyun Do was trying to say.

As they began their meal, Juho cut open his fish, revealing its pale, buttery meat. The fragrance of garlic and herbs made the dish all the more appetizing. The asparagus that came with it left a clean after taste. It was delicious.

“You seem to like it.”

“Yes, this is great!”

As they ate, Hyun do resumed the conversation, “So, how far did you get with transcribing?”

It was about his book, so Juho shared his progress with him, “I’m at the part where the old man is about to start observing the three brothers next door.”

“Hm.”

One would describe that scene as a transition from the beginning to the middle of the book. Having been left alone at home, the old man started to peek at the three brothers living next door. That part was one of the more drawn out parts in the book, an old man peeking at the three innocent brothers. The three brothers turned against each other as if they were affected by the old man. It was the beginning of the breakdown.

Suddenly, Juho became curious as to why Hyun Do left such potent emotions in his sentences. ‘What could have been his reason for detailing such uncomfortable emotions?’ And he asked the author without hesitation, “So, what made you write a book like that?”

“A book as in?”

“The one you wrote like you were being forced to.”

“There are two reasons,” said Hyun Do with a smile, putting two fingers out. He had quite a few explanations for such an impulsively written book. “One has to do with the cause for writing that book.”

“The cause.”

It was the word for a reason or an opportunity that produced a certain outcome.

“One day, I looked into a mirror.”

“Like usual?”

“Yes. Then, I tried distorting the image on purpose. I wanted to write another book. The obvious evaporated, and I was left only with doubt. In that state, I looked into the mirror again. The fact that I was able to see myself in it fascinated me, but it put me off at the same time. No matter how much I resist, my mind recognized that I was looking at myself. Whether drunk, or asleep, I was me. It got old after a while.”

It didn’t matter how much one fought back or denied it. That fact remained the same.

“One finds himself in a mirror,” echoed Juho quietly, and Hyun Do nodded.

“There’s no fun in that.” With that, he began to talk about animals, “Elephants are generally known to be smart. When you give them a mirror for the first time, they examine what’s behind it. They become wary at first, but they eventually become curious and think that it wants to be friends with it. I was jealous of the fact that animals were capable of expressing such diverse emotions at themselves. I wondered what it’d feel like to be able to treat myself like a stranger.”

When first presented with a mirror, a wild animal tended to attack it, not knowing that it was attacking its own reflection. It became wary and fearful at itself, which was unimaginable for a human. It wasn’t common for a person to punch a mirror because they didn’t recognize their own reflection. Despite humans being animals themselves, that was a strange phenomenon.

“I wanted to be that kind of animal,” said Hyun Do, cutting into his fish.

Being an animal. ‘Have I ever thought about that?’ Juho thought.

“I don’t pretend to know everything. I think repeatedly, wondering who the stranger in the mirror is the entire day. It enables me to think freely, without hindrance. I might end up spending my entire life trying to stand side by side with that person, wanting to strike a conversation. It’s delightful. Isn’t it exciting?”

It was exciting. ‘Did he achieve his goal?’ Juho wondered.

“But it didn’t turn out as I’d hoped. In the end, I’m me. So, I picked up a pen instead. That’s all I could do.”

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“So that’s how ‘The Mirror’ came about.”

Hyun Do nodded lightly. Juho felt somewhat suffocated. He imagined what Hyun Do had said. It was a tiny space without windows or doors, making it impossible to go in or out. Whether his eyes were open or closed, he found himself in the same place. There was no answer as to when he would be freed from such containment. It was a freedom even death couldn’t promise to grant. There was a wall right before his eyes, his nose nearly touching it. No matter which direction he turned, it was always the same color. An old, worn out wall that stood for all eternity. In the containment, he lived his entire life. He stared at the wall intently, and it began to move like it was alive, throbbing. When he blinked, the wall no longer moved. Instead, a hole appeared on it. Slowly, Juho brought his eye to it. He had been deceived. It wasn’t a hole. It was a black eye. The black, gaping eye of a crow. The wall opened its mouth wide, and then…

… his fish came in sight. His heart was beating slightly fast. Subconsciously, he had examined its pale meat. It was a mere fish on a plate, and he brought a piece into his mouth, its rich flavor spreading around it.

“This is great.”

“I’m glad.”

Hyun Do’s voice rushed into Juho’s ears as the cawing of the crow lingered.

“Maybe liking myself is harder than it seems.”

Despite his somewhat random remark, Hyun Do answered calmly, “As long you don’t hate yourself to death.”

Once again, a sense of relief washed over Juho. Smiling, he parted his lips in order to carry on the conversation, “So, what’s the second reason?”

Hyun Do did say that there were two reasons for writing his book, ‘The Winter.”

“I heard a very nostalgic song in the street one day,” he said nonchalantly, and Juho knew immediately that he wasn’t just referring to music. “It was a song that I hadn’t heard in a very long time. The moment I heard it, all the memories associated with it came rushing back, as if I’d never forgotten them. It’s a persistent one, that song.”

“Kind of sounds like a person.”

“You guessed right.”

Juho looked at Hyun Do and brought up the name of the person he was thinking about at the moment, “Mr. Wol Kang.

“That’s right.”

Yun Seo Baek, Hyun Do Lim, and Wol Kang had been friends who had spent their entire youth together. Yun Seo Baek and Wol Kang became lovers while Hyun Do Lim remained their friend. Then, leaving his friend and wife behind, Wol Kang passed away. ‘In that case, what was the significance of Hyun Do’s impulsivity associated with Wol Kang?’

“Forcing emotions into writing. That’s what that friend of mine used to do a lot.”

From that sentence alone, Juho felt like everything had clicked. Hyun Do hadn’t been talking about himself when he’d mentioned indigestion. He had sounded like he was sharing his experience. Which meant…

“Wol was just like you.”

It had been about Wol Kang.

“The digestive process?”

“That’s right. That’s how he described his work – that his job was to digest emotions, feelings and experiences with his entire body and turn them into writing that had a similar flavor. He always said that there was flavors to writing. Some were pleasant and made you more than willing to swallow them, while others had the opposite effect. I never understood that, but I’m sure you do.”

“Well… Somewhat.”

It was more than possible to compare food with writing. It was essential to survival. When eaten in a hurry, or eaten when spoiled, it was bound to get the person sick. The remedy to that was yet more food. In any scenario, a person had to eat. There had been a time when Juho hadn’t been able to write in the past. Then, he finally came to the realization that just because he had been breathing, it didn’t necessarily mean that he was alive.

Once he heard Hyun Do, everything made sense. Back then, his “digestive system” had stopped functioning. While the emotions had kept piling away, there hadn’t been a way for him to digest them, making him lazy and lethargic. It was only natural that he hadn’t been able to lead a healthy life. In the end, he couldn’t help but start writing again. ‘I wonder if Wol Kang was the same way,’ Juho wondered.

“So, I was simply trying to mimic him. I wanted to try writing in his distinct style. In other words, impulsivity.” After a brief pause, Hyun Do continued, “I did learn something from it though.”

“What did you learn?” Juho asked.

Looking down, he answered. “It’s not for me to squander my emotions when I write.”

“Squander?”

“I had to rest for an entire month after writing that book. I was amazed at how much emotion he used to gather up, even to the point of emptying himself.”

Juho understood what it meant to be empty. It was the feeling that he had been holding onto since the completion of his first book. However…

“Isn’t that why we write?”

“Hm?” Hyun Do asked, looking puzzled.

“That feeling of being emptied. I feel it too, but it gets filled back quickly. That’s how I’m able to write. In other words, it’s a sense of consumption. It’s fun to spend money.”

“Money, huh. You really are more mature than you let on,” said Hyun Do, looking entertained. Then, thinking for a brief time, he calmly parted his lips to say, “Every author has his way, so I’m not trying to tell you otherwise. Only, your way might be a little risky.”

“Risky?”

“Once your digestive system breaks, your body no longer becomes sustainable.”

Suddenly, the air grew heavy.

“Huh?”

“People who stay as close to writing as you do tend to break down. Wol suffered quite a bit too.”

“Suffer how?”

“For example…” He paused for a brief moment. “Indigestion.”

It was an answer much more light-hearted than what Juho had anticipated.

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