388 The Crow’s Whereabouts 1 (1/2)
Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl
Upon arriving at his apartment, Juho saw an unexpected guest waiting for him by the door. Walking unhurriedly toward the guest, Juho greeted the person gladly, ”What brings you here, Mr. Park?”
”Why?! To see you, of course!” Nam Kyung said, pushing his glasses up.
”Seems like you still go on walks?” the editor added as he sat on the couch, and Juho nodded. ”You seem well.”
”So, what did you want to know?” Juho asked.
”I heard you pushed your deadline back, and…”
'Did he you really come all the way here for that?' Juho thought to himself.
”... I just wanted to make sure that you're doing OK. You're not in a slump or anything, are you?” Nam Kyung asked in a serious tone. Clasping his hands together, the editor added, ”What seems to be the issue?”
”Beats me,” Juho replied.
”Don't lie to me.”
”What makes you think that?”
Shaking his leg, Nam Kyung replied, ”It's not in your nature to be that calm when there's something you don't know.”
Juho nodded, agreeing with the editor's assumption. The author knew very well the cause of his slump. Staring intently at Juho's face, Nam Kyung said, ”Well, at least your apartment looks nice and tidy. Remember when you'd trash the whole place with manuscript paper?”
”... That was ages ago,” Juho said.
”Wait! You didn't read Mr. Lim's book again, did you? Is that what happened?”
”No, it's nothing like that,” Juho said calmly. Having just returned from a walk, he was feeling quite tired.
As Juho lay on his back on the couch, Nam Kyung said, ”Hey...”
”Yes?” Juho replied, staring at the ceiling.
”You do know how significant this year's award is, right?”
”Yeah, sure,” Juho said in a humdrum manner. The author was at an age that winning a prestigious award no longer came as a shock to readers. He was old enough to tread into the conservative world, and that wasn't exactly the most welcoming change for Juho.
”Your books are still in high demand. Remember that.” As Juho chuckled, Nam Kyung pushed his glasses up and said, ”So, try to keep writing.”
”Are you not gonna let me take a break?”
”Who are you trying to fool? I know you. You have to write to process your emotions.”
Then, Juho brought up a thought that had come to him, ”Am I starting to sound like Mr. Kang?”
”Not even close,” Nam Kyung replied, chuckling.
”I'm older than he was when he passes away, though.”
”... Don't you even think about following in his footsteps.”
At that, Juho remained silent, and Nam Kyung rested his chin on his hand, staring intently at something. The window shook as the dusty wind came blowing against it.
”You've avoided writing about death since you finished Mr. Kang's book.”
After Juho finished Wol's book, he no longer wrote about death. Wol and his writing had influenced Juho, one of the results being fear of death. Juho was terrified of death now.
”When I asked you why you stopped, you said, 'I got tired of it.' Remember?”
”I do.”
”Which turned out to be a lie.”
”I remember that too,” Juho said, admitting to it willingly, and Nam Kyung asked nothing further.
”Well, if you're not sure about what to write about next, I don't think it's a bad idea to try writing about death again.”
Scratching his eyebrow, Juho thought of an excuse.
”I have a deadline to meet, though.”
”We can always push it back. Don't worry. Just forget about meeting the deadline and try to focus on writing whatever you want to your heart's content.”
”So, that's why you're here.”
”Call it management.”
Juho sat up on the couch, brushed his hair back, and said, ”I'll think about it.”
”Don't get too experimental, though.”
”I wish. My body just can't handle the abuse anymore.”
”What you came up with back then was good, but it wasn't very Yun Woo-like.”
”Is that so?”
”Most people don't question their identity at that age, you know?”
Bursting into laughter, Juho said, ”I guess that's true.”
Juho had started drinking when the memories of his past life had started to fade away. During that time, the author had often written books more experimental in nature: mixing two different writing styles, distorting them, or experimenting with inconsistencies. That had also been the time when his books went through the most number of revisions in his entire writing career. Back then, Nam Kyung had been strict about distinguishing what was salvageable and unusable.
The author's last day was drawing near, and there was no way for Juho to know if he would live more or less than what he had in the past. Perhaps, his lifespan had been predetermined all along. Ignorance often triggered imagination, and Juho grew increasingly depressed as his future became more and more certain in his head, which was getting filled with paranoia and delusions. Traces of those emotions were present in the books he had written in the last several years.
”Is there a crow around here?” Nam Kyung asked upon hearing a caw. The crow was still lingering around Juho's apartment.
”It's a good-looking bird. I think it was born here somewhere. It kind of grew on me, actually.”
”Is that right?” Nam Kyung said with disinterest. Then, after having dinner with the author, Nam Kyung went on his way.
---
”So, that's what he said.”
”I can see that you haven't changed one bit,” Yun Seo said. She was sitting on a rocking chair while listening to Juho tell her about the conversation between him and Nam Kyung, which had taken place months prior by that point.
”It troubles me that I'm still not sure of what to do.”
The Sun was quite bright that day, and the sounds of cicadas reverberated in the air.
”Have some fruit.”
”Thank you, Mrs. Baek, but I'm very full.”
The house was quiet, and there was no one else aside from Yun Seo and Juho there. Yun Seo no longer taught or took in pupils. Instead, she focused only on writing. When Juho had asked her if she had grown tired of it, she had shaken her head and said that she felt that the time was right.
”That crow hasn't been around much lately.”
”You're right,” Juho said, looking in the same direction as Yun Seo. The crow was nowhere to be found, similarly to the one that would normally linger around Juho's apartment. On the other hand, the bird tended to be unpredictable, so it wasn't all that surprising to the author. Juho watched Yun Seo pick up a cookie and put it into her mouth.
”What would you do if it came back to life?”
”You mean the cookie?”
”Yes.”
Chuckling quietly, she said, ”I'd probably eat it again.”
”Right…” Juho said, feeling slightly depressed.
”Is that what you're trying to write about?” Yun Seo asked with interest.
Scratching his chin, Juho replied, ”I've been thinking about it, but I don't think I'll follow through with it. Do you have any suggestions for what I should write about next, Mrs. Baek?” Leaning back and staring up at the ceiling, he murmured, ”Can't believe I'm still thinking about this at this age.”
Resting her chin on her hand, Yun Seo said, ”That's because you're still writing at that age.”