“What are you writing?” she asked.
The next day, he started researching. He found a man named Lee Ji-hoon—a gentle, kind-faced dentist with a quiet smile and no apparent vices. Yoo followed him for a week. He watched him return a lost wallet, help an elderly woman cross the street, and buy flowers for his mother every Friday.
The funeral was small. Chae-won wore a black dress and no tears. She stood like a statue as people murmured condolences. Ji-hoon stood beside her, his hand hovering near her back, not quite touching.
“You’re trying to make me hate you. So leaving will be easier.” She looked up, and her eyes were dry, but her voice cracked. “But I’ve been practicing for this since I was twelve. You can’t make me leave. I’ll be here when you take your last breath. I’ll be the last thing you see.” More Than Blue -Seulpeumboda Deo Seulpeun Iyagi...
“This is garbage,” he said, his voice flat. “Like this life. Like you.”
To Chae-won, my witness, my home, my more-than-blue:
But she knew. She had always known.
Yoo got a job as a lyricist at a small music label. Chae-won became a junior editor at a publishing house. Their life was a choreography of avoidance—avoiding the word “terminal,” avoiding the topic of the future, avoiding the truth that hummed between them like a live wire.
That was their story. More than blue. More than sad. More than goodbye.
They met in a quiet pojangmacha —a tented street stall. Yoo laid out the situation with surgical precision. He was dying. Chae-won was the love of his life. He wanted Ji-hoon to marry her after he passed. “What are you writing
He finally turned. His eyes were deep-set, the color of old coffee, and they held a calm that was far too old for his face. “Ko Yoo.”
He started coming home late, reeking of soju he didn’t drink. He left his lyric sheets scattered on the floor, then accused her of moving them. One night, he looked at her dinner—a lovingly prepared jjigae —and swept it onto the floor.
He closed his eyes. A single tear escaped down his cheek. He wiped it away angrily. “Don’t. Don’t make me sentimental.” Yoo followed him for a week