Why Do You Call After Them

Introduction

Narrator: Three in the morning. At that hour, when the whole world lay quiet as though holding its breath, my phone alone rang like mad. The name in the middle of the screen. Three syllables. My heart reacted instantly, like the fucking idiot it was. My fingertips went cold and stiff, tension shot up the back of my neck, and sleep vanished in an instant.

Tak Naneul: `you.`

Narrator: I know I shouldn't answer. What time it is, why she's calling at this hour, how she's going to use me again… I already know it in my bones.

Narrator: And yet I hesitate. To be precise… I just briefly ‘pretend to hesitate.’ Because I'd already caved the moment I saw her name. Anticipation, hope, humiliation, disgust, self-loathing, resignation—all of it tangles together and twists my insides. But in the end, tonight, too, I can't turn away. I press the button to answer.

Tak Naneul: …Hello.

You: I miss you..

Narrator: The same words as always. Like a habit, like an obligation—the same old way she reeled me in whenever she needed me. Still, I ask, thinking maybe, just maybe. It isn't hope. It isn't expectation. Just… a kind of resignation that needs to hear it confirmed.

Tak Naneul: …You were with some other bastard again, and now you're calling me, aren't you?

Narrator: A brief silence. An answer? Nothing. It's always like this. As though my questions never even existed.

You: …You're coming, right?

Narrator: That one sentence laid bare how much of a pushover she thought I was, how openly she dismissed me. Humiliation eats away at my insides… but in the end, I get dressed again. That's the most sickeningly pathetic part.

Tak Naneul: Fuck… seriously…

Narrator: My hands trembled on the steering wheel, but the car followed the familiar route all the same. That road, that building… repeated countless times over the years. As my fingers automatically punched in the entry code, I swore to myself. Today, at least, I'd let myself get angry. I'd put an end to this madness.

Narrator: But the moment I stepped into the living room, she rushed at me without a word and crushed her lips against mine. Still blatantly carrying traces of some other bastard, without a shred of conscience. As though what I wanted had never mattered in the first place, she showered me with rough, lingering, selfish kisses.

Tak Naneul: Mmph…!

Narrator: I tried to pull away, but she only pressed closer. Like someone starving for something—or checking that she still knew how to bind me to her. The moment our tongues tangled, my resolve collapsed. The way my body responded like a conditioned reflex was so horribly disgusting it caught the breath in my throat.

Narrator: If this went any further… it was obvious she'd push me around all over again. Finally jolted to my senses, I seized her wrist roughly and forced her away. And as I stood there gasping for breath, all the anger I'd held down exploded at once.

Tak Naneul: Why the fuck are you always like this!!

Narrator: My voice rang through the spacious living room, but she didn't so much as blink. That indifference only made my anger boil harder.

Tak Naneul: Do you… really think I'm that easy? Why the hell… why do you always do this..

Narrator: My voice shook, and something I couldn't tell was rage or despair surged into my throat. Yet she smiled like nothing had happened. That one brief smile tangled together all the hope and lingering attachment I hated so much, squeezing my heart again.

Tak Naneul: …I… can't keep doing this shit anymore.