Drururuk—
The cassette tape spun again.
Blink.
When Kang Ichae opened his eyes, he saw the letter his mother had written.
Where there is a meeting, parting is only natural.
To leave such a line as the first words to her son in her last letter—
It was exactly the kind of thing his mother would do. And yet, it felt unbearably cold.
Nineteen-year-old Kang Ichae couldn’t bring himself to read any further. He let out a faint sigh, folded the letter neatly, and tucked it back into his coat.
In the end, no miracle happened.
After fighting illness for more than ten years, his mother passed away before he even turned twenty.
After the funeral, he began settling postponed affairs through a lawyer—selling property, arranging inheritance—because he had no reason to return to Korea again.
And by the time everything was finished and only one old house remained, Kang Ichae realized something.
‘Wow, there’s really no one left beside me.’
He was completely alone.
There was no one he could talk to, no one who treated him like family—and the relatives who refused to even call him that weren’t worth facing at all.
The moment that thought hit him, he had to get out. Move his body, scatter his thoughts.
He walked aimlessly, feet taking him wherever they wanted, until he somehow ended up at the old apartment playground near the hospital where his mother had stayed for so long.
Slowly, he approached the swing. The traces of time were still there.
He sat down and tilted his head back to look at the sky.
Creak—
Creak—
He had met those brothers here when he was little, and their friendship had lasted quite a while.
At first, he’d only exchanged a few words with the older brother, but before long, the younger one started playing with them too.
Through them, he learned bits and pieces—that the older one dreamed of becoming a broadcasting PD, that their parents weren’t very close, that the older brother was popular in the neighborhood.
Most of all, he learned that they were the kind of people who would kindly talk to a lonely kid they didn’t even know.
“Something good will happen tomorrow. Look forward to it.”
But once his mother was discharged, their bond naturally faded. After returning to America, Kang Ichae gradually forgot those memories.
***
At least, that was how it should have been.
So why was he now loitering around a broadcasting station?
‘...What am I even doing here?’
He didn’t understand his own behavior, but he couldn’t make himself turn back.
At an old convenience store he used to visit, he’d overheard that the older brother worked at QBS Broadcasting Station. A quick search on his phone confirmed it—he was in the Variety Department.
Since then, Kang Ichae had staked out a nearby café, gathering information. Eventually, he learned that the man often appeared around the editing room and the smoking area behind the building.
‘...Should I just leave?’
He folded his ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) arms and stared toward the smoking area, located down a narrow back alley behind the station—technically off-limits to outsiders, yet easy enough to reach.
‘If I run into him, what do I even say?’
Would he recognize him? Welcome him the way he had back then?
For a moment, his memory replayed that night long ago, the day his mother came home from the hospital.
He’d been so happy that he’d completely forgotten to visit the playground at the usual time. But when he finally rushed there, thinking it was already too late, Seo Hoyun had been waiting for him—leaning against the fence, yawning.
When their eyes met, Hoyun’s gaze curved slightly, as if to say, Good for you.
‘He probably wouldn’t recognize me now... but still.’
Maybe, just maybe.
He hesitated, frozen in place, until he heard voices approaching.
“Hey, did you hear? Senior Seo Hoyun’s getting a new main program next year.”
“What?! I haven’t even managed that yet!”
Startled, Ichae ducked beside a vending machine in the corner. It didn’t hide him completely, but the shadows were enough to blur his outline.
The two men didn’t notice him and kept talking.
“Damn... the guy really is something. No hesitation, no fear, and now he’s done it.”
“He’s a beast. I joined the same year as him, and even when everyone else went out drinking, he’d always go straight home—and still, look where he is now.”
Yeah, that hyung was well-known.
Even just hanging around the area, he’d heard all kinds of rumors about him.
“Oh, right. There were even rumors he had a kid—despite being single.”
“Oh, that...”
The man called “senior” chuckled, and his companion leaned closer, lowering his voice.
“...Not a kid, a brother. I just heard this recently—apparently, when Seo Hoyun was around twenty, his parents died in a car accident.”
“What?”
At that, Kang Ichae’s shoulders twitched.
“They say he was in the car too. He had bad trauma afterward, could barely breathe, went to the hospital for years.”
“Wow, I had no idea....”
“Anyway, he’s incredible. His brother got into a good university too, and he’s already been promoted.”
Hearing them trade such personal gossip made Ichae’s expression twist.
And then—
“Well, what’s so hard about that?”
That calm, low voice cut in.
Kang Ichae slowly turned his head.
There he was—walking down the alley, face full of irritation.
Hyung.
His heart started pounding. The gossipers froze mid-sentence as Hoyun raised his phone and tugged the corner of his lips.
“Don’t worry. The open slot’s already filled with another guest.”
It looked like he was answering a call, but the cold edge in his expression—and that thin, humorless smile—made it clear he’d heard everything.
The two men hastily stomped out their cigarettes and slunk toward the exit.
“...Take care.”
“Yes, you too.”
His sharp gaze followed them until they disappeared. Only then did he sigh quietly and turn his attention back to the call.
“What can we do? We’ll just have to re-edit what we’ve got.”
Kang Ichae studied him carefully.
He was unmistakably the same person from his memory—and yet, he wasn’t.
There was a dryness about him now. A tension. A sharpness.
While Ichae’s thoughts spun between past and present, Hoyun ended the call, reached for a cigarette—and froze when he saw him.
“...Hey.”
The sound of his voice made Ichae’s chest jolt like a broken engine.
But the flutter quickly died down.
“You can’t be in here unless you’re staff.”
Of course he didn’t recognize him. It had been more than ten years.
“...I...”
All that time he’d spent lurking around cafés, waiting, just to meet him—yet now, he couldn’t get a single word out.
‘What could I even say?’
How have you been? How’s your brother?
Congratulations on achieving your dream?
Had he really followed him all the way here for something so trivial?
Watching Hoyun raise an eyebrow, Ichae forced a small smile.
“...Sorry, I got lost. I’ll leave right away.”
He stepped back slowly, thinking—
‘Still, looks like you’re doing well, hyung.’
It would have been nice if only good things had happened to him.
But life doesn’t stop after bad luck. Everyone suffers something.
So did he.
‘I’ll just have to manage on my own from now on.’
He still didn’t know why he’d come, but seeing Seo Hoyun once more—he decided that was enough.
He wasn’t that innocent kid anymore, and Hoyun wasn’t a bright-eyed student. It was time for them both to keep walking their own paths.
At the main gate, Kang Ichae rubbed his face with his palm and sat down on a bench.
Then, taking a deep breath, he pulled the letter from his coat again.
Where there is a meeting, parting is only natural.
It still stung, but this time, the words came easier. His eyes fell to the next line—and froze.
—That’s what everyone says, but what do I know?
“...What the hell?”
He frowned, rereading it over and over—but it didn’t change.
By the time you read this, you’ll only be nineteen. You can still afford to lean on people and act a little spoiled, my dear.
He let out a faint laugh at the playful tone and turned the page.
Don’t take this goodbye as final.
I’ll always live on inside your heart.
His gaze traced each word slowly.
You can’t do everything alone.
You’re strong, but you’re also lonely. You’ll need people around you.
Next page.
Even when life is hard, don’t give up. Be kind to others and endure.
Time is fair to everyone.
When you think you can’t move forward anymore, if you keep holding on, a gentle tomorrow will come to greet you.
His hands trembled; the paper quivered with them.
I hope that when that tomorrow comes, you’ll share it with the people you love.
I love you, Ichae.
More than anything in the world.
Until the day we meet again — Mom.
He stared at the last line for a long time, then slowly lifted his head. The white clouds drifting across the blue sky reminded him of his childhood.
As he blinked, sunlight faded from his cheek, and a shadow fell across his face.
“Hey, I saw you earlier.”
He didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
“You look really familiar, you know that?”
You can’t always get what you want. Even the things you’ve wished for most can slip through your fingers.
Life and death. Meetings and farewells. Beginnings and endings.
Everyone experiences both happiness and pain—it’s natural, something to accept.
“Have we met somewhere before?”
But Kang Ichae couldn’t accept it that easily.
‘That’s why I came here.’
Following the traces of his memories, reaching out for that one bit of kindness—
Because he wanted to be with him again.
“...Hyung.”
Blocking out the sun that had stayed with him so long, Kang Ichae smiled faintly.
“...Do you want to meet again tomorrow?”
.
.
.
Drururuk—
That’s the end.
Drururuk—
Even after his recollection ended, the cassette kept spinning.
“—That guy, he’s the one—”
His and Seo Hoyun’s voices crackled through the static, breaking apart.
Screeeeeech—
The sound of tires scraping.
“Kang Ichae.”
Someone was running toward him—he thought.
“—please—help—”
“...You reckless bastard....”
His tangled memories blurred together. As his eyes fluttered open, a figure who had shielded him gripped his shoulder tightly. Their gazes locked, sharp and urgent.
“—Hold on. Don’t lose focus.”
The moment his mind cleared—
Beep!
Beep!
Beep!
Bee—
Be—
———
—......
[......78%]
[83%......]
Sheets of music flew through the air.
A grand piano barely missed Seo Hoyun’s shoulder and shattered against the wall. Pale and furious, he cursed under his breath, glaring down at Ichae.
‘Unbelievable.’
Of all times to realize that the man in front of him was the same “hyung” from long ago.
‘Our thread really doesn’t break, huh.’
Round and round they went—until fate tangled them again.
Kang Ichae turned his head aside, half-covering his mouth as a smile crept out.
Seo Hoyun stared, exasperated.
“You almost died. What the hell are you smiling for, you idiot....”
[......97%....]
[100% Complete! Congratulations!]
A bright window flared before his eyes, and the world lurched violently.
[Kang Ichae — The Dawn Rapper]
[Note: Former Player ‘Seo Hoyun’ — ...]
Then the text glitched, fizzled with blue static, and faded away—like it had fulfilled its role.
There was nothing left that could tie Kang Ichae to Seo Hoyun now. He couldn’t drag The Dawn down just to hold on to him.
When the last sheet of music touched the ground, the trembling earth went still.
[...——Return——?]
The flickering words on the dim system screen blinked for a long time before scattering like dust.
The air hung heavy, damp against his skin; light shimmered through the dust motes; a clock stood frozen, unmoving—
—Tick.
As the second hand advanced, dawn rose beyond the collapsed buildings, painting the sky red.
Staring at the crimson light—almost as if searching for something he’d lost—Seo Hoyun slowly turned his head and extended his hand.
Kang Ichae looked at him for a moment, then took it.
Hoyun gripped tight and whispered softly,
“Kang Ichae.”
But Kang Ichae had no regrets.
“Let’s go home.”
Seo Hoyun would come to find him again, no matter what.
