Yes… that was his name. Kim Baeksan.
He had almost forgotten it—almost forgotten himself.
His gaze locked on her. Even though every instinct screamed to look away, he didn't. He couldn't.
"I… I really missed you, Mom… I thought— I thought—"
Tears began to slip down his cheeks, slow at first, then falling faster until they streamed in an unbroken river. He lowered his head, fists clenched tight, struggling to steady his breath. But the sobs came anyway—silent, shuddering, the kind of cry that belonged to a small child who had just found his mother again.
The memory came back, unbidden and sharp:
Her neck, unnaturally long, swaying from the ceiling of her room. A rope biting into her flesh. He was so small then—too small to reach her face. All he could do was wrap his tiny arms around her cold legs and press his cheek against them. He tried to cry that day, but no sound came. His eyes had been hollow, stripped of life, the void already taking root.
But now, this was different. These tears shone with something else—raw, fragile, and innocent. Like a lost child finally stumbling back into the arms of the one he had been searching for all this time.
He looked at her again—really looked this time—and the distortion was gone. It was her true face now. Beautiful, but pale, almost fragile, as though it might vanish if he blinked.
His jaw tightened. Slowly, he rose to his feet, voice barely above a whisper.
"You know what, Mom? Ever since you left me here, every step forward has felt like despair… Being left alone, with no one by my side—yet still, I kept on walking."
He dragged a trembling hand across his wet eyes, clearing the blur of tears. She was smiling at him now—not with the stretched, inhuman grin from before, but with something warm.
"I could have lived in peace," he said, his voice cracking, "but you… you brought me pain. And the pain still throbs inside me. Aren't you proud?"
His hand pressed against his chest, as if trying to hold something broken in place. The words shattered what little strength he had left. He stepped forward, collapsing into her embrace, arms tightening desperately around her as sobs tore out in ragged bursts.
"I just wish you'd stayed… Did you hate me that much? From now on, please—stay with me. Be proud of me. And love me. Like all mothers do. All I need in my life is you, nothing else."
A faint smile curved his lips—small, fragile, almost shy. Her expression, though pale and worn, seemed to glimmer faintly, as if she were seeing a light in him for the first time. A light that might lead somewhere, a path worth following.
"That's why I loved you, Mom."
His mother—once proud, then broken by depression, her skin pale and her gaze dim—now looked at him with eyes brighter than they had been in years. Seeing her son before her, weeping, stripped her heart bare.
She couldn't stand it. All she could bring herself to say was, "I'm sorry." Yet even as the words left her lips, her mind churned with misery—memories, regrets, and the endless weight of her own failures pressing down on her.
She held him close, her faint smile never fading, her arms folding around him with a tenderness that felt almost real.
For a moment, her vision shifted—she no longer saw the grown man before her, but the small boy he once was, crying alone in the distance. Her heart clenched. She ran to him, dropping to her knees, gathering his tiny frame into her arms. Her own tears spilled freely as she choked out apologies between sobs, her voice trembling with regret.
The darkness that had swallowed them for so long began to dissolve. The void receded, replaced by a warm, golden radiance that bathed them both. It was like standing in the heart of heaven itself—soft light, endless sky, and a peace that felt almost too perfect to last.
The moment stretched on, feeling like forever for them both. For Kim Baeksan, it was a treasure beyond measure—a fragile sliver of time with the mother who no longer lived in the same world as he did.
Suddenly, a faint breeze brushed past his left ear, carrying with it a whisper that froze the blood in his veins.
"My dear son…"
Her tone was soft at first, almost loving. But then it shifted—slipping into something lower and quieter.
"If you dive too deep in your thoughts…"
The words faltered for a heartbeat, as if her voice had been severed mid-sentence—yet forced, unnaturally, to continue.
"...you'll drown into the abyss of your thoughts, and it will gaze at you, for eternity."
The final syllables seemed to scrape through the air, dragging an unnatural weight behind them.
And then—silence. A silence so complete it felt like the entire world had stopped breathing.
He snapped his eyes open, breath ragged, heart pounding like it might burst through his chest. Sweat clung to his skin in a cold film. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped his face in quick, shaky strokes before glancing around.
The carriage was full again—commuters in their neat clothes, avoiding his gaze. Yet their eyes lingered just long enough for him to catch the flicker of disgust before they turned away, keeping their distance.
His expression dulled, the spark draining out until his stare became heavy and hollow. The void crept back in, swallowing the remnants of the dream, leaving no trace behind.
Its just another deadbeat dream. Sigh, give me a break will you?