CH 24
“Jikhan-ssi, hello!”
“Welcome!”
“The usual coffee, please.”
“Got it!”
Right on time, the regulars began arriving. Always familiar faces. Among them were Sookhee, a woman in her late 30s who often followed her, and Kim Jinseong.
Maybe because they came daily? Jikhan had memorized all their orders. He handled the orders and brewed the coffee himself, and everyone wore satisfied expressions as they headed to their seats.
“Your orders are ready!”
The ten customers who arrived at 11 a.m. took their coffees and returned to their spots. But one person—Kim Jinseong—sat at the counter’s bar stool instead of his usual seat.
Jikhan spoke first.
“Kim Jinseong-ssi, did you watch the drama?”
“Ah, yes.”
Kim Jinseong sipped his coffee with a shy smile. He explained that while strolling through crowded streets during the Halloween festival, he’d stumbled upon the drama playing at a bar. And in the first episode, he’d heard his own song.
“Really… my song was in it.”
“Insane, right? Ratings topped 20%. The buzz is no joke.”
Jikhan showed him the comments he’d just checked. Kim Jinseong read them in awe, biting his lower lip as he scanned the words repeatedly. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes.
Jikhan asked with a faint smile.
“Gonna cry again?”
“It’s just… overwhelming.”
Kim Jinseong wiped his tears with his sleeve.
“I’m moved.”
“You should smile now. You’ve cried enough—let’s laugh today, okay?”
Kim Jinseong nodded brightly, eyes glued to his phone as he read viewer comments and rewatched drama highlights.
The scene showed the male protagonist on a dim street, tuning his acoustic guitar to play a gentle melody. No one noticed or cheered. Passersby merely glanced and walked on.
The protagonist’s bitter expression deepened. Inner monologues about quitting and going home followed, but he gripped his pick and steadied himself. A brief pep talk later, he began playing Kim Jinseong’s song.
Slowly, people gathered. Twenty soon encircled him, filming with phones. Eyes shut tight, the protagonist lost himself in the music.
Electric guitar, bass, and drums joined in the second verse. Even viewers felt transported into the scene. The first episode alone captured the drama’s essence and trajectory.
Jikhan remarked warmly,
“I heard your second song appears around the midpoint.”
Kim Jinseong nodded silently.
“And Kim Jinseong-ssi—your song’s charting like crazy!”
“What? Really?”
“Yes, look.”
A song once absent from rankings now sat at #32. Kim Jinseong gaped at his phone, speechless.
“It’s climbing unnervingly fast. Might hit top 10 by tomorrow.”
“Top 10…”
“Your song will soon play in cafés and restaurants.”
Kim Jinseong stared blankly at the ceiling, imagining it, then smiled sheepishly.
“To think… I’d live to see this day.”
“Of course. In life, good days always…”
Jikhan froze mid-sentence.
In life? But Kim Jinseong… wasn’t among the living anymore.
So accustomed to his presence, Jikhan had forgotten he was a departed soul.
Noticing Jikhan’s panic, Kim Jinseong smiled gently.
“It’s okay.”
“…Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re my savior, Jikhan-ssi.”
Kim Jinseong beamed before walking to the café entrance. He picked up an acoustic guitar and met Jikhan’s gaze.
“Today… I want to play for you. May I?”
“Oh! I’d be honored.”
“It’s all I can give… I’m sorry.”
“Nonsense. This is worth paying to hear.”
Flustered by the sincerity, Kim Jinseong tuned his guitar. He inhaled deeply—
Tak-tak-tak-dung!
No ordinary performance. He strummed, plucked, slapped strings—a vibrant melody bursting with energy. Intricate variations and hopeful notes captivated Jikhan. Patrons too fell under the spell.
When the music ended, applause erupted. Jikhan marveled,
“How? What was that?”
“Master this piece, and you’ll learn most techniques—hammer-ons, slides, taps, harmonic taps, focus shifts…”
Jikhan nodded blankly, understanding none. Kim Jinseong smiled.
“It’s called Wings~You Are the Hero.”
“Ah.”
“I wanted to play it for you.”
“Me?”
“Because you’re my hero.”
Hero? Jikhan flushed.
“No—you composed, wrote, sang everything. I did nothing.”
“You did the most crucial thing.”
“What?”
“Popularity isn’t about quality—it’s promotion. Promotion makes hits.”
Kim Jinseong’s tone was firm. Jikhan conceded,
“True. But this time… the quality probably helped the promotion work.”
“Thank you for thinking so.”
Kim Jinseong handed his guitar back. A soft glow began emanating from his body.
Jikhan stared.
“K-Kim Jinseong-ssi?”
“Jikhan-ssi… Might I trouble you for a cup of warm black tea?”
His voice was humble. Jikhan nodded, lips pressed tight. He brewed the tea with care, pouring his heart into dispersing sorrows.
When served in a round cup, Kim Jinseong sipped and called softly,
“Jikhan-ssi.”
“Yes, Kim Jinseong-ssi.”
“Do you have a dream?”
A dream?
I heard this story at home, but I never imagined I’d hear it again at the Cafe of the Departed.
Jeongjikhan forced a bitter smile and shook his head.
At this, Kim Jinseong grinned brightly and spoke.
“I’ve… always had this thought.”
“What thought?”
Kim Jinseong stared at the ripples in his teacup before answering.
“I want to meet it soon. Something that’ll make me glad I stayed alive instead of dying… I want to meet it as soon as I can.”
“……”
“That thought dragged me deeper, forced me to work harder, to become relentless—like I was torturing myself.”
Jeongjikhan offered no reply.
This was a story about Kim Jinseong’s philosophy on life—and its consequences.
Instead of responding, Jeongjikhan listened quietly. Kim Jinseong continued with a faint smile.
“I don’t know what dreams you chase, Jeongjikhan-ssi, but don’t corner yourself.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Even if it takes time… even if you’re late… I hope you find what you’re seeking in this lifetime.”
“Thank you, Kim Jinseong-ssi.”
Only then did Kim Jinseong smile contentedly and drain the last of his black tea.
A warm light enveloped him, and with a brilliant flash, he vanished.
Only faint specks of drifting light remained as proof he’d ever existed.
[The deceased Kim Jinseong has attained enlightenment.]
[Kim Jinseong was a soul corrupted by despair and rage toward the world.]
[We extend our deepest gratitude to Jeongjikhan-ssi for transforming despair into happiness.]
[Reward granted to ‘Jeongjikhan’ for aiding enlightenment.]
[1 Great Fortune (吉) awarded.]
A sterile white void, untouched by even a speck of dust.
As Kim Jinseong glanced around, footsteps echoed toward him.
Turning, he saw a sharp-eyed man with thick brows approaching, clad in a white robe.
A sound like distant chimes accompanied each of his steps.
“Deceased Kim Jinseong.”
“Who… are you?”
“Yours was a tragic life.”
“……”
“Enter the door at the far end. It will erase your past pains and grant a new beginning. Proceed without fear.”
Kim Jinseong hesitated, then followed the man’s gesture.
Beyond his pointing finger lay an expanse of vibrant grass, a door visible in the distance.
After a pause, Kim Jinseong turned back to the man.
“Forgive me… but does that door lead to reincarnation?”
“I cannot answer. All is karma—the result of your past deeds.”
“I… don’t want to start over. New beginnings… brought me nothing but pain.”
“……”
“Is there no alternative? Please… I can’t face rebirth.”
“Accept your fate.”
The man repeated mechanically, like a recording.
With no choice, Kim Jinseong dragged his feet forward.
His slumped shoulders and ragged sighs betrayed a soul too weary to continue.
Chiii—kzzzt—
A mechanical buzz made him turn.
A wide TV flickered to life, its grayscale screen emitting staticky noise.
As Kim Jinseong frowned, the screen cleared to reveal Street: Episode 1.
A man walked onto a street with an acoustic guitar and amp—but it wasn’t the drama’s protagonist.
It was Kim Jinseong himself.
Stunned, he approached the TV. The song playing was You with the Beautiful Back, one
