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Inho looks at the scene playing out on the screen. He feels as if he's underwater with no one to pull him up.
Seong Gihun is dead.
The sole person who had made him feel more alive in the past days than he's felt for years. The person who had brought light back to his life is now dead because of him.
He knew this was going to happen; he had seen just how persistent Gihun could be. If he knew, then why did he feel like this?
Inho turns away from the screen, his eyes glued on the square where Gihun's photo used to be.
“The coast guard is approaching the island.” A square guard says, pulling him out of his trance. “Begin evacuation,” Inho replies coldly, sounding calmer than he feels. Alarms begin to sound with instructions for personnel to gather at the escape point.
Wordlessly, Inho walks to the control panel, unlocks it, and presses the button to start the 30-minute countdown. He’s done this plenty of times before, and Inho feels like he's moving methodically as he arrives next to Gihun’s dead body. He pulls his hood down and takes off his mask to get a better look at Gihun.
Even in death, Gihun looked beautiful. Still beautiful, still Seong Gihun. He holds his breath as he keeps looking at Gihun's unblinking face. He feels his eyes start to tear before he forces himself to look away. After a second, he leaves and makes his way to collect the baby.
He feels as if he should hate the baby, after all, if the baby wasn't born there would be a chance that Gihun might still be alive, but he doesn't. He looks at the baby and feels nothing. No hatred, no affection, he just feels cold. He wished Gihun had killed all the trash that surrounded him in that room. Maybe then he would be alive.
It's an idea that realistically would never happen, but a part of him wishes for days of Gihun and Inho living in the same house, taking care of the baby together. As he looks at the baby, he sees a bit of gihun in her.
Maybe, just maybe, he could learn to care for the baby just as much as Gihun did.