UNFED

It was six in the morning.

Lee Jae-in sat on the floor of his studio. Hoon had laid out a mat for him—one without a backrest, so he could sit comfortably. He opened the window halfway. The spring morning air flowed in. Birdsong could be heard in the distance.

“If you’re hungry, eat now—this is your last chance.”

Lee Jae-in shook his head.

“I’m fine.”

Hoon sat down in front of him. They were close enough that their knees almost touched.

"I'll be right here with you. No matter what happens, don't move. You might scream. You might cry. It's all okay. But you mustn't try to stand up or leave."

"How long do I have to hold on?"

"72 hours. Three days."

Lee Jae-in nodded. He didn’t ask any questions. Hoon couldn’t tell if that was a sign of courage or if he simply hadn’t fully grasped the reality of the situation yet.

"Close your eyes."

Lee Jae-in closed his eyes.

"Start with your breathing. Breathe in slowly through your nose, push it down into your stomach, and exhale slowly through your mouth. Try it once."

Lee Jae-in took a breath. His stomach expanded. He exhaled slowly. Hoon watched. For a first try, it looked natural. It was as if his body already knew what to do.

“Good job. Keep going.”

Hoon stepped back. He sat down on a chair by the wall. He watched Lee Jae-in.

An hour passed.

Lee Jae-in was still sitting there. His expression was a little stiff. He was still doing okay. The first few hours are usually quiet. The changes come later.

* * *

[ 8 hours ]

It was two o’clock in the afternoon.

Sweat beaded on Lee Jae-in’s forehead. His breathing quickened slightly. Hoon approached him.

“How are you feeling?”

Without opening his eyes, Lee Jae-in said.

“I see something strange.”

“Are you scared?”

“Not yet.”

Hoon stepped back. The fact that he was starting to see strange things meant the process had begun. Hallucinations are vague at first. Then they gradually become clearer. The moment they become clearest is the hardest.

An hour later, Lee Jae-in’s shoulders trembled.

Slightly. But distinctly.

Hoon watched this and stayed put. He didn’t go near him. He had to go through this process alone. There were things he could help with, and things he couldn’t.

* * *

He saw the house.

At first, it was blurry. It looked as if it were shrouded in fog. Then the outline came into focus. The roof. The windows. The old gate.

It was his childhood home.

Somewhere in the countryside of South Gyeongsang Province. The place where Lee Jae-in had grown up until middle school. It was the first time he’d seen the house in fifteen years.

His father had sold it. The year Lee Jae-in entered college. It was because of debt. Lee Jae-in wasn’t there on the day the house was sold. He was in Seoul. He heard about it later over the phone.

That house was right in front of him now.

There was a persimmon tree in the yard. A tree that used to be laden with persimmons in the fall. Now it was spring. Fresh, light green leaves were sprouting. Lee Jae-in looked at the tree.

When he was a child, he had once climbed that tree and fallen. He had scraped his knee. His mother had rushed out. “Don’t cry, don’t cry,” he said, blowing on his knee.

His mother was nowhere to be seen.

He tried to go inside. The front gate was locked. He knocked. There was a sound. But it didn’t open. Lee Jae-in kept knocking. His hand hurt. But he couldn’t stop.

Then a window opened.

It wasn’t his mother. It was his father. His father as he looked when he was in high school. When he was younger and healthier than he is now. His father saw him. Then he closed the window.

That was all.

The house vanished back into the fog.

* * *

Lee Jae-in suddenly began to cry.

He cried silently. Tears streamed down his face. His shoulders shook. Hoon stood up from his seat. He walked over and placed his hand on Lee Jae-in’s back. He didn’t say a word. He just kept his hand there.

After a long while, Lee Jae-in spoke.

"I saw the house."

“Yeah.”

“My father.”

He said no more. Hoon didn’t ask either. Hoon didn’t know what had happened between Lee Jae-in and his father. He didn’t need to know. What mattered now was that the memory had surfaced, and that Lee Jae-in had seen it.

“Should we keep going?”

Hoon replied.

"It’s up to you."

Lee Jae-in wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. Then he closed his eyes again.

“I’ll keep going.”

* * *

[ 24 Hours ]

Six o’clock the next morning.

Lee Jae-in didn’t collapse. There were a few moments when it looked like he might. Around midnight, Lee Jae-in suddenly tried to stand up. Hoon grabbed his shoulder.

"No. Sit down."

Lee Jae-in resisted. It was the first time. His eyes were half-open. They were the eyes of someone caught between hallucination and reality.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“I have to go to him.”

Hoon grabbed both his shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

“He’s not here. He’s not here right now. Sit down.”

Lee Jae-in stared at Hoon for a long time. Then, as if collapsing, he sat back down. And he started crying again.

This time, he made a sound.

Hoon stayed by his side. He cried until two in the morning. Then, exhausted, he fell asleep sitting up. Hoon carefully laid him down. On the mattress. But he didn’t wake him. Sleep was fine. If his body needed it, he could sleep. The important thing was that he didn’t eat.

At four in the morning, Lee Jae-in sat up again. On his own. Hoon watched.

His eyes were different from the day before. They were eyes that had seen through something.

* * *

It was a construction site.

A village reconstruction project Lee Jae-in had participated in in his early thirties. It was in a rural area of Gyeonggi Province. Young architects had gathered to renovate vacant houses and build a community. Lee Jae-in was one of them. He lived there for a year.

There were people at the site. People he had worked with. Their faces were vivid. He even remembered their names. Hyun-soo, Ji-won, Min-ki. They carried bricks, installed window frames, and swept the yard.

But something was strange. The house never seemed to get finished. When they built it up, it collapsed. When they fitted something in, it fell out. When they swept, the dirt piled up again. They kept going without stopping. No one mentioned that it was collapsing. Only Lee Jae-in saw it.

Lee Jae-in tried to tell Hyun-soo.

Hyun-soo, it’s collapsing.

Hyun-soo turned around. He smiled and said,

“I know. But there’s nothing we can do about it.”

And he went back to carrying bricks.

Lee Jae-in stood there. He couldn’t move. Watching the house collapse, knowing he couldn’t stop it, he just stood there.

That project was dissolved after two years. It was a funding issue. People left one by one. Lee Jae-in stayed until the very end, then finally locked the door and walked out. That locked door still appears in his dreams. Sometimes.

This time, it was a hallucination. But the sensation felt more real than a dream.

Hyun-soo.

There was no answer. Hyun-soo was already gone. Lee Jae-in was alone at the site. Amid the collapsed houses.

* * *

At ten o’clock in the morning, Lee Jae-in opened his eyes.

He opened them wide. For the first time, completely.

He looked at Hoon. He looked at him for a long time. Then he said,

“I saw the collapsed houses.”

Hoon nodded.

“That project in Gyeonggi Province?”

Lee Jae-in paused for a moment. He seemed surprised that Hoon knew that.

“Did I ever mention it?”

“Once. When we were drinking. Don’t you remember?”

Lee Jae-in thought for a moment. Then he shook his head faintly.

“I guess I forgot.”

Hoon handed him a glass of water. Lee Jae-in drank it. Just the water. He hadn’t eaten anything yet.

"Are you hungry right now?"

Lee Jae-in thought. It looked like he was really thinking. As if checking his own condition.

“Strangely, I’m not really hungry.”

Hoon said.

“That’s right.”

Lee Jae-in nodded. Then he closed his eyes again.

There were still 48 hours left.