I Became the Drug-Addicted Childhood Friend

Boom.

Memory shift.

Finally, a new scene appears.

The sound of birds chirping.

Warm sunlight.

The memory of Yoo Seo Ah that Han Shihu is seeing is peaceful.

Seo Ah is sitting on a creaky chair.

"Seo Ah?"

Someone saved her.

Someone helped Seo Ah when she was in trouble.

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Han Shihu couldn't reach Seo Ah.

"Seo Ah...?"

Even if he calls out in front of her, the Seo Ah in the memory doesn't respond.

A sparrow chirps and flies around near the house.

Yoo Seo Ah shakes the chair she’s sitting on, playing with it.

She doesn’t care whether Han Shihu is in front of her or not.

The Saintess doesn’t move away, yet Seo Ah doesn’t react.

"Heh."

"Are... are you okay?"

It’s still a memory.

As the Saintess said, this is an artificial world built on Yoo Seo Ah’s memory.

What Han Shihu is seeing is not the real past.

The person he is addressing isn’t the real Yoo Seo Ah.

Creak.

The chair squeaks slightly, moving back and forth.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

It shakes side to side too.

Squeaking.

Non-stop.

It continues until Seo Ah gets up from the chair.

Seo Ah stands up and brings a journal from the drawer.

It's a journal Han Shihu has seen before.

The weather today.

Yoo Seo Ah turns her head and looks out the window.

It’s clear.

<The weather is clear.> <The weather is clear.> <The weather is clear.> <The weather is>

She writes that far, but the pen slips from her hand.

Yoo Seo Ah stares blankly at the pen she’s holding.

She tries to write again.

She moves her hand, placing the pen on the page.

Yes.

It’s nothing more than the act of moving her hand.

It’s not writing; it’s scribbling.

So Yoo Seo Ah sets the pen down.

It’s a journal, not a scribble book.

But it’s ruined now.

She stares blankly at the journal.

<Shihu will forgive me.>

A sentence written at the top of the page.

The hope that if she quits the drugs, she’ll be able to live with Shihu.

It’s all over.

She failed.

Creak.

She falls into thought on the rocking chair.

The bird chirps again.

"Seo Ah?"

"..."

No response, even though he speaks.

"Sorry."

Han Shihu apologizes.

Honestly, he’s not sure exactly what he’s apologizing for anymore.

Maybe Seo Ah doesn’t even want an apology.

It’s just that every time Han Shihu looks at Seo Ah, he feels guilty.

The creaking chair.

Seo Ah gets up from the chair again.

She places the journal back in its original spot.

Thud.

She drops it on the floor.

Her hand loses strength, and it falls.

But after trying again, she succeeds.

There, the chains that once bound Yoo Seo Ah can be seen.

The broken lock, too.

"Doctor..."

There’s no malice in Seo Ah’s words.

In fact, there’s goodwill.

The same goodwill she once showed to Han Shihu.

"You saved me, good person..."

Buried deep in Yoo Seo Ah’s consciousness is that idea.

The doctor is a good person.

And in fact, the doctor is a good person.

If the doctor hadn’t saved her, Yoo Seo Ah would have died.

Maybe Han Shihu should thank the doctor.

Because the doctor saved Seo Ah, she’s alive.

A good person.

A good person couldn’t possibly be.

Han Shihu mutters.

"No, if the doctor hadn’t given her the drugs from the start, none of this would have happened."

If it hadn’t been for the doctor, she wouldn’t have even gotten to the point of dying.

But at this point, Yoo Seo Ah can’t hear anything.

For 30 hours, her self has been crushed like mud, ground into a blender in hell.

It’ll still take time before Yoo Seo Ah is fully recovered to the point of thinking clearly.

She’ll still have to take the medicine given to her by the doctor and come to Han Shihu asking for more money.

The point is, Yoo Seo Ah right now cannot make rational decisions.

In game terms, it’s like all her stats have dropped below half.

Her health, intelligence, everything.

But after recovery, she’ll return to half of her original state.

She’ll regain enough intelligence to come to Han Shihu and ask to borrow money.

"...Let’s move on."

Han Shihu says to the Saintess.

There’s nothing more to do in this memory.

It’ll only get more pitiful.

"Okay, let’s go to the next memory."

"Ah, wait."

Han Shihu stops the Saintess again.

"What is it?"

"...You said we’re watching memories, right?"

"That’s right."

"Then, are we looking at memories that the drugs have erased?"

It’s strange when you think about it.

Seo Ah seems to have gone back to before using the drugs.

So what are we watching now?

"We can’t see memories that were fully erased. We’re reconstructing the scene with memories that are still in the patient’s mind. It’s a trauma healing skill, basically."

"So, the memory hasn’t been erased?"

"The drugs used for resetting probably don’t erase memories. It’s not easy to selectively erase memories up until a certain point. I’ve tried it myself."

The Saintess’s ability is somewhat similar to the memory-erasing drugs.

"Is that so?"

"And what we’re seeing now is just showing scenes similar to the real past. It’s not actually real."

"So how does it affect the actual memory?"

The Saintess has twisted Han Shihu’s memories.

She’s used it when it’s been useful, but Han Shihu doesn’t really like her.

"So, this is... hmm... like submitting a revised version of what you wish the memory would be? It’s not guaranteed to change, and it’s hard to make big changes to the memory."

The chair Seo Ah is sitting on creaks.

She stares blankly at the empty space ahead.

"Actually, it's strange for us to suddenly appear in front of the past Seo Ah. Memories that don’t make sense can’t be fixed. A plausible scenario is necessary."

That’s why so much effort was put into filtering out Yoo Seo Ah from Han Shihu’s memories.

But in the end, it failed.

"...Is that how it feels? But it seems like we’re not just seeing memories."

The words of the fake Han Shihu still linger in his mind.

"It’s because it’s projecting the inner world. It’s hard to explain in words."

The chair creaks again.

"So, does that mean we can’t stay here forever?"

Han Shihu asks.

Can’t he stay with the past Seo Ah?

"This memory is already over. Seo Ah is just repeating the same actions. There’s no more unusual event."

An ended memory.

"So, even if I keep waiting, it will stay like this?"

"It’s a world created based on short, intense memories. It’s better to move on to the next memory at the right time."

It seems that way.

"Can we choose which memory to see?"

"Right now, we’re mainly seeing intense memories, sorted by time."

"It’s adjustable?"

"Uh... what kind of memory do you want to see?"

The Saintess hesitates before speaking.

"...The doctor."

"Huh?"

"Any memory that involves the doctor."

"That’s not possible. The memories are chosen based on themes or moods. And the doctor hasn’t appeared in the memories until now... In fact, usually, only the patient’s own memories appear."

"Why?"

"Well, if you think of it as a simulation based on memories, introducing someone other than the patient reduces the accuracy, right?"

"...That’s a strange ability."

"Even so, sometimes, other people besides the patient do appear."

It’s rare, but it happens when the Saintess uses her abilities.

"In cases where they’re as close as family. It was like that with you too. Seo Ah appeared. Of course, it was a version of her that you recognized, not the real Seo Ah."

"So, does that mean in Seo Ah’s memory, I’m the way she sees me?"

"Probably..."

Han Shihu feels conflicted.

Is it because of the drugs?

But even so, he didn’t live in a way where he didn’t care if Seo Ah died.

It almost feels like the fake Han Shihu is lecturing the real one.

Telling him to deal with Seo Ah and get things done.

What’s there to do?

What’s so important that it would justify killing Seo Ah?

"Then, can I talk to that guy again?"

He means the fake Han Shihu.

"That, maybe... if we do this—"

Boom.

A black world unfolds.

Everything around is pitch black.

It’s so dark that Han Shihu can barely make out the Saintess’s position.

"What is this place?"

"Maybe a lobby, or just a place where the patient’s inner world is vaguely visible. It’s pretty dark for Seo Ah... normally, it’s not like this."

Yoo Seo Ah’s inner world is simply dark.

I wonder what it was like before it became this dark.

Han Shihu takes a few steps forward.

After just a few steps, someone starts to appear in front of him.

The fake Han Shihu.

A blurry figure starts to speak.

"...So, you’ve made up your mind, right?"

The decision to kill Seo Ah.

The fake asks the real one.

"You’re telling me to get rid of Seo Ah. But what exactly do you get from going that far? If you were me, you’d know Seo Ah is the most important."

"What are you talking about? You’ve been suffering because of Seo Ah. You’re struggling to bring back a corpse. Seo Ah wants to die. She’s not dying because she doesn’t want to make you sad."

"...What’s the gain from Seo Ah’s death?"

"World peace."

"I don’t care."

Han Shihu isn’t interested in chasing after such an abstract goal.

"Your mental stability, physical pleasure, happiness... wealth, power, honor, all the good things. In fact, by then, Seo Ah probably won’t even be a memory."

"What are you? You’re not me. You just look like me."

The fake Han Shihu pauses, thinking for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

"Ah... I never thought about that. Who am I?"

"Right."

"Maybe I’m the version of Han Shihu that Seo Ah liked the most?"

"Huh?"

"I at least don’t sneak around stealing other people’s memories."

The Saintess, who had been listening to the conversation, lowers her head, clearly feeling guilty.

"...I’m different from you."

Han Shihu says.

He can’t choose to abandon Seo Ah.

"I won’t abandon Seo Ah."

The fake Han Shihu laughs when he hears that.

"Heh."

As if it’s ridiculous.

"What are you talking about? You already abandoned her. If you don’t like it, you erase the memories with drugs, over and over. Seo Ah seems perfect for being treated like a toy."

It’s true that the memories were erased.

But it was just to ease Seo Ah’s pain.

There was no other way.

But deep inside, Han Shihu still questions if it was the right choice.

"Shut up."

So, Han Shihu is just angry.

Angry at himself.