177 – 384,400km

177 – 384,400km

“Now, would student Cheon Yura please come forward to receive her diploma and award.”

Clap, clap, clap, clap─.

The applause from the people inside the auditorium was so loud it felt like thunder.

“This student has contributed to the nation and its people, and furthermore, to the progress of humanity and world peace, therefore, this award─.”

After the diploma conferral for approximately 100 graduates was completed, it was time for everyone to take pictures with their families.

Parents, each one, placed a hand on the shoulders of their cherished children.

“Congratulations on graduating.”

“Hey you, could you take a picture so all of our family is in it?”

It was an ordinary graduation, nothing particularly special about it.

Which, in a way, was good.

Everyone had yearned for this normalcy like a dream.

“Namjin! Just one photo with me!”

“Here too!”

“When you’re done there, just one picture with me too…”

The opportunity to photograph with the President didn’t come often.

Children I’d never even spoken to, and their parents too, wanted to take a picture with me, so I was pulled this way and that, truly a dizzying affair.

The burden of popularity, I suppose.

“Those headed for the moon, please proceed to the Emigration Center next to the auditorium.”

“Mom, let’s start heading over too.”

“Still, it’s a relief to go after graduation.”

Amidst the flurry, several graduates and their families departed for the moon.

Roughly 97% of the population had already left for the moon.

Korea was quieter and more tranquil than ever before.

The families of Yeongsa High School students had remained on this quieted Earth until now, for their children’s graduation ceremony.

Once today’s event concluded, perhaps the remaining 3% of people would all leave for the moon as well.

Of course, there were those who wouldn’t be leaving Earth.

Like Bbangdaeng.

He seemed determined to remain on Earth and purify this land.

“Yeoul, are you really going to be alright?”

Bbangdaeng’s mother, Lady Dang Hwayeon, stroked Baek Yeoul’s cheek.

Bbangdaeng assured his mother with conviction.

“It’s already decided! I’m staying on this land. So, Mom and Dad, you need to be okay even without me around. I don’t know when we’ll see each other again…”

Purifying the polluted Earth would require roughly 100 years, or more.

100 years.

Whether Bbangdaeng, remaining on this land, would still be alive in 100 years was something nobody knew.

The chances of reuniting with her parents on the moon were slim, terribly slim.

Which meant, for Bbangdaengi, this meeting was their last. A final moment together.

Perhaps that’s why her eyes shimmered, brimming with unshed tears.

“Mom! Dad! Don’t forget me!”

And then, a rush—

Bbangdaengi threw her arms around them.

In the end, she burst into sobs, a torrent of tears. Even the Director and his wife couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Yeoul-ah… I’m going to miss you so much.”

“We’ll never forget you, never. If it were up to us, we’d stay here with you, but…”

“That’s impossible! Normal people can’t handle the toxic energy building up!”

A farewell to family, knowing they may never meet again.

No amount of time could ever feel like enough.

Not wanting to intrude on their precious moments, I quietly slipped past them, weaving through the auditorium.

So, where was Yoo Yeoreum?

I had something to give her, but she was nowhere to be found.

Seo Gaeul, however, was visible.

She stood with her father near the auditorium entrance, watching the black raindrops that streamed from the sky. As I drew closer, I caught snippets of their conversation.

“Gaeul-ah, if your mother were alive, she would be so happy today.”

“……”

“Are you truly going to stay on Earth?”

“Yes. It’s something I have to do. Something I want to do.”

Their conversation was colder than I expected.

Considering this could be their last day together.

I was debating whether to step in and try to warm things up when Seo Gaeul finally spoke.

“Dad, I’m sorry. I was always a daughter who caused nothing but trouble.”

“No. You… you did nothing wrong.”

Seo Do-cheol, an unyielding man, scratched at his forehead with a finger.

He couldn’t speak easily, his throat tight with emotion.

“It’s because I wasn’t a good father, because I was a terrible adult, that you all suffered. If your mother saw me, she would have demanded a divorce. I…”

“Still, I know you tried your best for me, Dad. Someday, when you return to Earth, I might have a son or daughter. You have to be good to them too. They’d be your grandchildren, after all.”

“So, in the end, you’re staying with that Han Namjin.”

Seo Gaeul, instead of answering, simply opened her arms and embraced her father.

Chairman Seo Do-cheol seemed to have much to say, but ultimately, he furrowed his brow and shed a silent tear.

These two, father and daughter, they too needed a moment, wouldn’t you say?

Perhaps I should postpone giving Seo Gaeul her gift for a bit.

It was then that I saw Yu Yeoreum standing outside the auditorium, soaked in the black rain.

“Hey, that black rain will make you lose your hair, you know.”

“……”

Yu Yeoreum’s expression, stained with the inky downpour, was troubled.

What could be the matter?

“What’s wrong?”

“Mom and oppa still haven’t arrived. I’m worried something might have happened.”

Indeed, Yu Yeoreum’s adoptive mother and brother were absent from the graduation ceremony.

Understandable that she would be concerned.

Just then, a car roared in the distance, its engine cutting through the air as it pulled up in front of the auditorium.

A woman and a man practically leaped out.

“Yeoreum-ah! Sorry we’re late! The car suddenly broke down—”

“Ugh, we barely managed to fix it. Why are you standing in the rain like that? Let’s go inside, quickly!”

“Okay.”

Though her reply was hesitant, the gloom on Yu Yeoreum’s face vanished in an instant, replaced by a radiant smile.

Once inside the auditorium, I took countless photos of Yu Yeoreum and her family.

“Han Namjin-gun, I still haven’t forgiven you for kidnapping my daughter, Yeoreum, back when you were a student.”

Of course, Yu Yeoreum’s adoptive mother thoroughly scolded and criticized me.

I suppose it couldn’t be helped.

“Mom, don’t say things like that to Jin.”

But then Yu Yeoreum defended me.

The Madam’s brow furrowed, and she seemed disheartened.

“…There’s no point in raising a daughter, they say! She’s not even married yet, and look at her, already protecting her man. Tae-yang-ah, what am I supposed to do with this?”

“Han Namjin, I don’t like you either. Wasn’t it you who caused Yeoreum to decide to stay on Earth in the first place? Are you really confident that you can make Yeoreum happy? Yeoreum is special. She’s suffered enough as it is.”

Yu Yeoreum’s brother, Yu Tae-yang, threatened me, his words sharp and firm.

The sincerity in his heart warmed her, oddly enough.

So even a family unbound by blood could hold such tenderness for one another.

Just as I parted my lips to offer some reply—

Yu Yoreum spoke.

“Thank you, Mother and Oppa, for becoming my family. Father was a bad man, yes. But even having him, flawed as he was, felt solid. But Jin…Jin is alone in this world.”

Yu Yoreum embraced her family with firm arms.

“Just as you, Mother and Oppa, became my family, I want to become family for that lonely, forlorn boy. With as much love as you gave me, a child not of your blood…”

“Yoreum-ah…”

“…”

“That is what I learned as Mother’s daughter and Oppa’s younger sister. Thank you for raising me, for cherishing me, all this time. If only I could have been your true daughter, your true little sister.”

Luminous teardrops escaped Yu Yoreum’s eyes, tracing paths down her cheeks. The Madam watched this with profound astonishment.

Yu Yoreum’s emotions had been dulled since childhood, through experiments and research.

How many years had it been since Yu Yoreum had shed tears of sorrow?

In the end, the Madam also began to caress Yu Yoreum’s back, revealing her sincere feelings.

“You *are* my true daughter. A daughter born of my heart, born of my tears. No matter the hardships ahead, remember that Mother is here. And remember Oppa too.”

“Mm.”

# # #

Before she knew it, the sun had dipped below the horizon.

The graduation ceremony was now winding down.

Once today was over, I would no longer be a student.

To no longer be a student was akin to becoming an adult.

Even though I had long since passed the age of twenty.

The previous me had inadvertently become an adult─that was the overwhelming feeling.

But this time, I had a bit more space to sincerely contemplate what it meant to be an adult.

What is an adult?

From tomorrow on, will I truly become an adult?

Lost in such thoughts, someone gave my shoulder a light tap.

“Jin-ah, there you are.”

The black rain had ceased, and the night sky was now ablaze with countless stars.

Most people had left, the land below was dim, which made the night sky shine with such radiance that it was blinding.

So I climbed the high hill and gazed at the moon and stars.

A good hobby for the future, I figured.

“My mom and brother, they went to the moon. My father, too.”

Is that so.

*Swish-*

Just then, Yu Yeoreum offered me something.

A plastic bottle.

Not just any plastic bottle, but one filled with something shimmering, shining dazzlingly.

“What’s this?”

“My tears. They shine a lot, right? If you have this, you won’t need a flashlight. Since all the electrical stuff will be broken anyway, I thought light would be important at night.”

Indeed, it seemed like Yu Yeoreum’s concept of ‘light’ was imbued in these tears.

A single drop was as dazzling as a star fallen from the sky.

I never thought I’d be the one receiving a graduation gift.

“Well, then, I should give something in return.”

I pulled something small from my pocket.

It was as small as the tears in the plastic bottle.

“What’s this?”

“A seed. I won’t tell you what kind. See for yourself by growing it.”

“I’ve never grown anything like plants before.”

Yu Yeoreum said, sounding a bit unsure, but she took the seed from my hand.

And carefully placed it in her pocket, which made me feel a little relieved.

I was worried Yu Yeoreum might eat the seed, like Ppangdaengi who ate the clover.

At that moment, someone waved from far away.

“Hanam-jin! You were here!”

Ppangdaengi came running.

He glared at Yu Yeoreum.

“Looking at your face, you’ve already received a gift from Hanam-jin! This can’t be! While I was picking up my family, the quiet cat climbed into the pot!”

He meant climbed onto the hearth.

But, well, I decided not to say anything.

Ppangdaengi looked quite sad.

“Mom and Mibbang, and Dad, they’ve gone off to the moon! Will I never see them again? I’m so sad! Just thinking about never meeting them again…”

*Boo-hoo-* Baengdeng burst into tears.

Soon, Seo Gaeul appeared from somewhere and scolded Baengdeng.

“If you’re that sad, why don’t you go to the moon too?”

“Ugh! Seo Gaeul, I don’t like you! You go to the moon!”

“I don’t like you either.”

Could it be that their relationship would remain unreconciled, even to this day?

However, eventually, time will solve everything.

We’ll have to see each other’s faces for the rest of our lives, whether we like it or not.

“Then, shall we open the gift I prepared for Seo Gaeul? It’s a drink made by soaking an Ingingi in water. Well, more accurately, it’s Ingingi-washed water. But for some reason, Ingingi-washed water tastes like grape juice.”

I had prepared a special Ingingi juice for Seo Gaeul, who loved Ingingis.

*Pour, pour, pour-*

As we poured it into our respective glasses and handed them out, everyone’s expression became subtle.

“Is it okay to drink this? Ingingi-washed water, you say. It’s awfully suspicious.”

Seo Gaeul frowned.

She seemed uneasy about a drink that hadn’t been inspected by the Food and Drug Administration.

I confessed honestly.

“Actually, it’s closer to alcohol than juice. It’ll get you drunk. But we’re adults now, aren’t we? We can drink a bit of alcohol. Drinking our first adult drink together–. Isn’t that romantic?”

*Crackle, crackle-*

Standing on a high hill in front of a blazing bonfire, we gazed at the moon.

A romantic atmosphere, if you could call it that.

If I was going to confess, now was the time.

“I’m glad I met you all. Honestly, I couldn’t have done this on my own. And I hope you’ll stay with me in the future too. Because, the truth is, I hate being lonely more than anything.”

I was honestly deeply moved that these guys had decided to give up their families and friends to stay by my side.

So moved, in fact, that tears streamed down my face.

“What’s this, Han Namjin? You’re saying such weak things. Are you drunk already? And why are you crying? Were you that happy we stayed…”

Seo Gaeul grumbled.

Soon, Baengdeng raised her glass high.

“Then let’s all toast and drink! Cheers! If we drink this, we’ll be adults now!”

“Me too, I’m a mature adult woman now.”

“Hmph.”

The kids downed their first glasses in one gulp.

Their expressions became more varied than I’d anticipated.

“Hanam-jjin! What is this stuff! It’s good?”

“To think ＜i＞this＜/i＞ is what ＜i＞ing-ing-i＜/i＞ is good for….”

“But this… is it strong…?”

The girls started to wobble.

I spat the strong liquor I’d been holding in my mouth onto the floor. ＜i＞Tuh.＜/i＞

“Sorry, but I think I’ll have to postpone becoming an adult a little longer.”

The sleeping pills I’d gotten from Gye Bok-soon to slip to Nam Bada during the debate were in the alcohol.

Never imagined they’d be used like this, though. The effect was undeniably potent.

“…Nam-jin, are you really sure about this?”

Teacher Ko-gae, emerging from the shadows.

I watched the kids slump to the ground with a heavy thud, nodding solemnly.

“Yes. As promised, send all of them to the moon.”

＜i＞Thwack.＜/i＞

Just then, someone grabbed my ankle. I looked down to see Seo Ga-eul, the sleeping pills having less effect on her, glaring at me with bloodshot eyes.

“…You…are sending us…to the moon…?”

“Yes.”

“…Since when…?”

“I’d planned on doing this from the beginning. Separating from family is a sad thing, isn’t it? It’s alright. By the time you open your eyes again, it will all be over. On this Earth, me alone is enough.”

“You…said it yourself. That there’s no need to sacrifice…for the greater good….”

I definitely said that.

That making the people who love you sad for the sake of the greater good might be foolish.

“I haven’t changed my mind about that. Therefore, what’s happening now isn’t for the greater good.”

“Then why, exactly…?”

“Because I like all of you.”

＜i＞Slowly…＜/i＞

Seo Ga-eul’s eyes closed.

# # #

When the girls opened their eyes— .

A distant, blue planet glimmered beyond the dark window of an unfamiliar facility.

Earth, lonely in the jet-black cosmos, appeared especially desolate.

“Send us back!”

“Send us back!”

The girls cried and fussed, but there was no way.

The distance between Earth and the moon: 384,400 km.

In the end, they all burst into tears.