Episode 1 Prologue
Someone once said.
That an inferiority complex is a law that gnaws away at a person.
I was a fairly successful baseball player. Rookie of the Year, Golden Glove, Season MVP, Major Leaguer. They were all titles that described me, so it would be no exaggeration to say there was nowhere higher to climb as a baseball player. Had any other player in Korean baseball history set such records?
But the existence known as me always felt incompetent and lacking. Why did I feel that way? Perhaps it was because, unlike me, you were too outstanding. To be exact, your background.
‘Am I still harboring such pathetic thoughts…?’
I shook my head and cast off those miserable thoughts. The fact that I could not erase the shadow of my inferiority complex even in this situation was truly miserable. My still-pathetic self was downright laughable.
I miss you.
Already five years had passed since I last saw you. Others might laugh, but they were years I had spent striving tirelessly to become someone worthy of you. I had always believed that to be true. But thinking back on it now, it seems it was nothing but an excuse. Merely shifting the blame onto you, struggling to cast off my inferiority complex.
Truthfully, even this realization came far too late. Because you had already left me. Still, wanting to seek forgiveness, however belatedly, I had come to your house.
But I could not meet you.
Because a massive, heavy iron gate blocked my way. I stood dumbly, looking up at the gate of the luxurious mansion. This had been going on for three days now. My body, having neither eaten nor slept during that time, felt as though it might collapse at any moment. The only thing sustaining me was the single-minded determination to see you.
But such is the way of the world—it does not flow according to one’s wishes. Even when I reached out with difficulty and pressed the cold doorbell, those who came in place of a response were merely a group of men.
“We have been told to ask you to leave.”
“…I am also family of this house.”
“We know that, but there is nothing we can do. It is an order directly given by the Chairman.”
The men wore black suits, and not a shred of emotion could be felt from their expressionless faces. They were probably security guards hired by your father—that is, my father-in-law. After all, my father-in-law was the only person in this massive mansion worthy of being called “Chairman.”
But I could not simply obey the order to leave. I held my ground firmly. This remained true even when the weary guards withdrew from their posts and time passed, the sun setting. Because I simply could not leave without seeing your face.
Before I knew it, the fourth day had begun.
I pressed the doorbell once more.
“Father-in-law, please, I beg you.”
My voice sounded unfamiliar. From my throat, parched with thirst, only a metallic sound like nails on a chalkboard flowed out. Perhaps because I had not eaten, my stomach churned and my legs trembled as though they might give way. But I could endure this much pain. If only I could beg for your forgiveness.
If only all of this were a dream.
I was prepared to pay any price if I could meet you again. Perhaps I could even sell my soul to a devil. Though I doubt any devil would accept such a pathetic, sinful soul.
What roused my flickering consciousness was my father-in-law’s voice coming from beyond the intercom.
“…You. Are you still there?”
“Yes, Father-in-law. I have been waiting.”
“That is enough. Go back. I no longer wish to see your face.”
Despite the firmness of those words, my father-in-law’s voice felt merely powerless. Of course, I knew the reason. Because his only daughter had ended her short life not long ago.
Your death.
Before this reality I wished to turn away from, perhaps the only thing I could do was see you off on your path to the afterlife like this. But even that, I was failing to do properly. Because your funeral was being held beyond this massive iron gate.
“…Father-in-law, I want to see my wife’s face one last time.”
One last time.
The moment that word left my mouth, my heart felt torn to shreds. Was the nausea rising because my body was in shambles? No, it must have been because I was maddened by regret over my wandering until now. I should have come to my senses long ago and stayed by your side.
“I will just… pay my respects and leave.”
In truth, I wanted to ask for forgiveness, not merely bid farewell. I was in a state of mind where, if only this door would open, I would fall to my knees before your photograph. But despite uttering those words filled with such earnest longing—
“—I told you to go back.”
—all that returned was a cold order to leave.
“…She is my wife. I beg you.”
“Well. Your wife. I wonder if you have the right to call her that.”
My father-in-law was right.
I have no right.
The world called me a lacking husband. Deep down, I thought so too. Because you were a woman far too good for me.
I was merely a baseball player, while you were the only daughter of a chaebol family. Had I at least had parents of my own, perhaps my inferiority would have been slightly less. Compared to my lacking self, you were a woman who shone too brightly, and before your background, I could not help but feel endlessly pathetic.
That was why I had lived my entire life crushed by an inferiority complex. Even after marrying you, while steadily climbing the stairs toward success, this truth did not change. Because no matter how successful I became, I felt I could never stand as your equal.
“If you are going to say such things, you should have at least stayed by her side. To that child, you were everything.”
“…I am sorry. I… was shortsighted.”
At some point, climbing upward became my everything. Everything except baseball felt trivial, and even your fretful worries seemed like obstacles blocking my success. It was a time when I would have done anything to cast aside my inferiority complex; in other words, I had gotten my priorities backwards.
“At first, I thought you were admirable. But you did not know when to stop. What was so lacking? Money? Fame?”
I had more than enough of such things. Objectively speaking, I was the best player. I was simply agonizingly conscious of other people’s gazes.
On days I lost a game, it felt as if people were laughing at me. That was why I had strived tirelessly. To avoid being looked down upon by others, and to become a husband worthy of you. Though of course, it was nothing but self-justification.
“Nothing was lacking. I just… wanted to become a respectable husband worthy of Heejin.”
“Did anyone look down on you? Me? Heejin? No, it was all in your head. It was merely an inferiority complex, and because of that inferiority complex…”
“…You are right.”
So time passed, until the day that marked my fifth year in the Major Leagues.
It was the day I was chosen as the main contributor to the season’s victory and received an award. It was also the day my teammates threw me a celebration party. After finishing all my schedules and returning to my lodgings, a phone call was waiting for me.
It was a Korean police station.
The voice on the other end of the receiver was grim.
A sudden, ominous premonition washed over me.
A man identifying himself as a detective from the violent crimes unit rattled on about things I simply could not understand. Property, burglar, death. At first, I could not comprehend it properly. It seemed my mind refused to understand. Because the content was simply unacceptable.
After shouting several times, I barely managed to finish the conversation. He said a burglar had broken into the house. You, sleeping alone, had met your end without even a chance to resist. By the time the police arrived, everything was already over. Even after the call ended, I stood blankly for a long while with the phone pressed to my ear.
And so you left. To a place from which you could never return, very far away. It was an ending utterly unbefitting someone who had shone so brightly.
“Of course, I know it was an accident. But if only you had not been out and about like that…”
A voice filled with resentment was flowing through the intercom. It was not that I could not understand his feelings. I had lost my wife, but my father-in-law had also lost his daughter.
Rather, even facing him like this felt sinful. Because I could not help but agree with my father-in-law’s words to some extent. If only I had treated you well from the start, I would not be filled with such regret now.
That is right.
I have no right.
And yet, I came to your house. To see your face, if only in the form of a photograph, and to ask for your forgiveness in person. But it seemed your father could not permit even that.
“Go back now. You must be struggling as well… but I simply cannot forgive you. I trust you will understand my feelings.”
The conversation with my father-in-law ended there. In the end, I had no choice but to leave without seeing you off. Tears did not flow. Because I was a husband without the right to cry.
I wandered aimlessly through the night streets. It was a place filled with memories of you, from before we were married. But the person called you no longer existed in this world, and all that remained for me was the empty bottle in my hand. Perhaps because I was thoroughly drunk, the brilliant lights flickered chaotically before my eyes.
Because memories of you kept surfacing unbidden, I could not concentrate on anything else. The same was true for baseball, which had once been my everything. It was laughable. That only after you died could I focus solely on you.
“…It must have hurt a lot.”
While you were dying alone and lonely.
I was enjoying a celebration party with my colleagues. I was consumed with regret that even in that moment, I had not thought of returning to you. You probably thought of me even as you were dying. You surely did not resent me. It was all the more sorrowful because I knew that well.
Where had it all gone wrong?
I could finally reach a conclusion.
It was because, trapped by my inferiority complex, I had forgotten what was important.
But regret is always too late. Past time cannot be turned back. The dead cannot come back to life. No matter how much I regretted, the miserable reality would not change. Yet all that remained for me was regret. If only I had stayed by your side, such a tragedy would not have occurred.
If only I could turn back time.
While I shuddered with piercing regret, in the empty night streets, the headlights of a rushing car grew larger and larger. My body, consumed by intoxication, could not avoid the charging car. No, perhaps I had not even considered avoiding it from the start. Because it was an ending perfectly suited for such a wretched and pathetic man.
‘Ending it like this is not so bad.’
If I were given a new life.
I would never live like this again.
I slowly closed my eyes and accepted the approaching light. May I meet you, if only in the form of a soul. With such an earnest wish.