In the pitch-black darkness, I wandered through meaningless seven hundred lives with my eyes covered.
In seventy lives, I didn’t even know where to go, just swaying aimlessly.
In seven lives, I chased a mirage that only blurred the eyes of people, one I could never reach.
In this eternally repeating life, I have struggled, and I have anguished.
“——What am I living for?”
But that 고민 has continued to this very day, for many long years.
Forever, endlessly, without resolution, it has continued.
*
That day, the sky was like any other—just a cursed and resentful dawn.
In the moment when the blue sky and crimson dawn intertwined, the color closest to death revealed itself.
“——Grandfather, what are these seeds?”
“….Hmm? Oh! Hyena, you’re here!”
Underneath that gloomy purple sky, I slowly knelt in front of my grandfather, who was picking out seeds with his wrinkled, old hands since early morning.
“Are you coming back from helping people again? You’re quite diligent, haha! I wish my children were at least half as hardworking as you.”
“……”
With a gentle smile showing the passage of time, that old man seemed quite happy, perhaps because he finally had someone to talk to.
A single word from him would return as several.
Was it because he was getting old?
Or because he was a lonely, isolated person?
“…..No.”
Well, whatever the case, it didn’t matter.
I was just listening to what others wanted.
Grateful to be a small source of solace for someone else, I continued speaking.
Once, I looked up at the sky.
“——No one was there.”
“Hehe, I see. That’s why your expression has been so gloomy since earlier.”
When he asked whether I had helped many people again today, I shook my head and replied that today, there didn’t seem to be anyone I could help, especially not during this early morning with only a few diligent people stepping outside.
In the remaining time after quickly finishing the tasks needed to sustain my life, I usually helped those who were in trouble, a mechanical routine repeated every day.
But not even in the busy lunch hour, not a single child in need, nor a starving person had shown up, and I had confirmed that no one was lost in the village, so I had to spend my time alone.
It was painful and torturous.
A period of idleness extending indefinitely.
I really should be helping others soon.
I have to give up everything that should be enjoyed to avoid sinning out of greed, and I must dedicate everything to help others.
Friends, family members, neighbors, the people of this village that raised me, citizens of the nation I belong to, and all humans living in this world— I should help, help, and keep helping.
Why can’t it go well like this?
Why does it feel increasingly futile?
The reason I should do this had already worn away in the repeated cycle of life, and I could no longer easily recall it, as hazily as the image of an old photograph.
Yet that sense of duty, akin to obsession, had already become chains binding my soul.
I would continue this until this life wore away.
But loving everyone meant not loving anyone, and wanting to help everyone was the same as being able to help no one.
If even such goodwill for others lacked a foundation, and merely served one’s own satisfaction, then even more so.
Nobody could count on it.
Performing good deeds for one’s own salvation was no different from a lump of lead wrapped in gold.
It was not far from a pathetic loser’s act of fleeing from one’s own created sins.
Still, I have repeated the worst acts throughout seventy-seven lives.
Even if the only thing waiting beyond that hypocritical action was destruction, I believed it had meaning and clung to the slimmest hope.
That’s how I’ve lived my life until now.
*
But, of course.
No matter how many good deeds I performed, squeezing my own throat by reducing my rations…
My heart remained unfilled, my heart’s corner still empty and hollow.
Did everything I did really have meaning?
Was there truly significance in help given out of duty?
Am I not missing something right now?
Like a broken poison bottle, no matter how much water I poured in, only emotionless thoughts kept rising.
And thus, I was sinking into the endless abyss of self-blame.
At that moment—
“—Ughhh, this is getting tough.”
“…….?”
Swish, swish.
“Looks like it’s gonna rain tomorrow… Oof, my old bones are already aching.”
“…..Ah.”
In front of my eyes, his figure engrossed in fiddling with something in front of the flower shop caught my attention.
*
Thump, thump.
“Well, it’s strange that an old man like me would be curious about choosing seeds. Life is full of surprises! Hehe!”
“…….Just curious.”
Despite being at an age where eyesight failed, he spoke to me as if age were mere decoration, swiftly and precisely selecting seeds to put into the nearby basket.
His hands moved as if he were handling sand, rummaging through the seeds.
One by one, the seeds were tossed into the worn-out basket with holes.
One small.
One unnecessarily big.
One covered in strange juice.
Most were empty, lacking seeds, while the rest were soggy and rotten or crumbled.
Those that, until they were born, dreamed of blooming splendidly and bearing fruit now faced a fate twisted by their surroundings or from birth.
But how would the fate of those seeds unravel?
Would they simply be trampled and disappear?
Or would another future await them?
Having lived like a machine, helping others day by day, I had not allowed myself to question my actions easily until now, but suddenly, curiosity washed over me.
*
Yet.
“Those in that bin are mostly trash.”
“….Trash?”
To my dismay, every response was a cool, dismissive answer, even while he mechanically selected seeds without slowing down.
One by one. Without being remembered by anyone.
Seeds that could only be born rotten from the start.
Seeds that became unusable due to misstorage, regardless of their own actions.
Seeds that could only fall away, pushed by the wind without ripening—all of them.
——Swoosh.
“……….”
With emotionless gestures, one by one, they were slowly swept away.
The old man went on.
“Completely rotted seeds are of no use. Still, since it would be a waste to throw them all away, they’ll probably be roasted or fried. But why, you ask?”
“……….”
“…Hyena?”
However, his subsequent words sadly didn’t reach my ears.
The seeds that held noble and splendid futures within them, all of them…
The thought that they would be wasted and left to vanish without ever blooming a proper flower consumed my mind.
“…Why?”
“Well… because they’re empty seeds.”
Even as I forced a trembling lip to utter that single syllable question, the response was the cold, harsh truth of society.
Seeds that weren’t full inside had low chances of thriving, even if planted.
These low-quality seeds wouldn’t just waste the earth if planted; they were given to other seeds like shining glossy ones, only to end their lives denied even a little piece of land to take root.
‘——You never even tried.’
Opportunity. A chance stolen by someone else.
*
‘——I tried so hard, but you trampled and ruined everything.’
Boom!
“…….!!”
“What’s this!? Wh-what’s happening!?”
Stolen opportunities.
The moment those words came to mind, I finally found the piece of the puzzle I had been missing.
After fitting all the puzzle pieces together, the one gap that had remained unfilled was finally revealed.
What have I been doing all this time with such foolish actions?
Why did I think I had to help others?
It was really to atone for the karma of stealing and enjoying others’ opportunities in my past.
Yes.
That’s right.
Talented people with warm personalities.
Even those who deserve to succeed and find happiness struggle to spread their wings in front of misfortune that comes without discrimination.
What I must do is to become a stepping stone for them to succeed.
To help bloom that precious single life of theirs, priceless compared to anything else.
That is the very essence of my existence.
*
——Swoosh.
“Give me that seed.”
“…Huh?”
I reached out my hand.
Upon hearing my authoritative request, the grandfather in front of me looked bewildered, but I didn’t care.
I smiled, perhaps for the first time in this life, and opened up infinite possibilities for my future.
Now, today.
The long, wandering journey of a young child concludes here.
The destination that seemed non-existent, the mirage that blurred the more I reached out—it all revealed itself.
With two legs and knowing the direction, all I had left to do was walk forward.
“——I will raise it.”
“………”
I pressed the broken, shabby seed tightly to my heart.
The small something touching my heart filled me in a way I thought could never be filled.
That sensation felt better than ever.
So much so that I thought it would be fine if my heart stopped right here.
Even with a noose around my neck, a gun at my chest, and poisons in my mouth…
I could sing a hymn of life with my hands joined in joy.
*
——Crack!
“This is a blessing.”
I clutched the little crumbling seed tightly in one hand, fearing it might slip away.
The feeling of life’s warm pulse emanating from that tiny seed was leading me to truth hidden in the world.
*
The value of my life.
The mission I would have to fulfill moving forward, all of it.
“I can know.”
I realized.
*
I opened my eyes wide.
A small smile graced my lips as I faced a black-haired woman looking at me with a mix of shock and worry.
One Sia.
Someone who’s half-stepped into the forbidden path of a second life.
In this possibly countless life, someone who can be said to be close to me more than anyone else.
A once unfortunate one who lived in the depths of a hellish life, having left all hope behind.
Seeing her, I finally opened my closed mouth.
“Sia unnie, I have a question.”
“…Elly?”
To you, I will ask this.
To you, who once negated my way of life.
To you, one of those who keep shaking my heart.
Let me ask about the direction of the lives we will walk from now on.
The beginning of that great prologue and epilogue.
“It’s a very, very important question. I really hope you can answer it, Sia unnie.”
Now.
Let’s sing.
Sia, unnie.
