Song was on his knees in the chapel. Instead of his robes, he was wearing a black jacket and a black shirt. When Kuji came in, he stood up and gave him a concerned look.
"Masatake, I told you not to come back."
Kuji strode up to him. "Who are you?" he asked. "I came because I wanted to know about you. And I'm going to stay until you tell me."
Song sighed as he took Kuji's hand and sat him down on the pew. Kuji stared at Song's profile. Song's eyes were fixed on the cross in front of him.
"My real name is Yeong-Il. The Chinese character for Yeong is part of the Japanese word 'forever', and Il is used in the word 'moral duty'."
"Yeong-Il," Kuji repeated under his breath. "So you're not someone from the North? Nango said people from the South tipped them off that you were."
"That must be why you were keeping watch on me."
Kuji nodded. "I was happy when they told me to keep tabs on you. I liked you ever since I first met you." Kuji surprised himself at how fluidly the embarrassing confession slipped out of his mouth. "I know I sound like a high schooler, but it's true."
Song reached out and grasped his hand. Kuji squeezed it back. "I stabbed my dad. I was seventeen then. He was drunk and was raping my little sister. I didn't do it to help her - I did it because I really wanted to kill him then. I hated him. That wasn't the first time he'd raped her, either. So I stabbed him. Over and over, from behind. I was told that the way I did it was cruel. It's true. I don't regret it, and I certainly don't plan on atoning for it. I didn't tell anyone about my sister. Maybe if I did, they would have pitied me and I wouldn't have had to go to jail."
He felt Song squeeze his hand harder, and Kuji gave a loud laugh to show him that he was fine.
"It was the shits after that. But that was how I was able to meet you. So maybe it was all for the better. You were the only one who accepted me." Lastly, he said, "I love you."
Song took his eyes off the cross to look at him. "I'm not the kind of noble person you imagine me to be," he said. "I've committed many more heinous crimes than you have."
"I don't care. You even said so yourself - God loves any kind of person. God will love both of us, won't He? That means we're the same in His eyes, right?"
"Your logic is very spot-on sometimes, Masatake," Song said with the same quiet smile as always. "All right, then, let me tell you my story."
Masatake, I am someone who does not exist. As you know, my home country has a conscription system, and all adult males are fingerprinted and registered. But there is no record of me in my country.
When I joined the army, my physical abilities were a head above the rest. I was recognized for that and was transferred into a special unit. At the time, relations between the North and the South were poor, and I was full of nationalist pride. I was eventually assigned to a unit that undertook particularly special missions even within the special unit. Actually, I wasn't assigned - I volunteered because that team was going to infiltrate the North and assassinate its dictator.
All records of the people who joined the assassination squad were obliterated. This was so that if any of us were caught captive, the government could deny its involvement. We were told not to return alive. We were elated; we trained diligently every day to execute this important mission.
Our camp was in the mountains close to the national border. Our training regime was very arduous, but that was where I learned and acquired the skills to kill people in all manner of ways. I believed that the sacrifice of my own life would help build the foundations of my own country.
But there came a great change in politics. Due to a change in the ruling political party, my country's policy was now leaning towards a harmonious relationship with the North. We were told by our seniors that the unit would be dissolved. After leaving the unit, we were to resume our lives as ordinary citizens. But that was a lie; we were actually scheduled to be erased.
One day, we were taken into the mountains in the name of training. In actuality, we were to be shot. I as well as a few others were able to escape in the nick of time. But as deserters, we were now being sought after. We crossed the border in order to survive.
Little did I know that it was the gate to an entirely new kind of Hell.
Song let go of Kuji's hand. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes. He muttered a prayer under his breath.
The concentration camp was grueling. Less than a year had passed before I was the only one who remained alive. But I still lived through it. My desire to exact revenge on the country that had betrayed us kept me going. I lived on in hatred. In darkness.
One year, we were met with a harsher winter than any we had experienced in the past. We were sent out into the blizzard to gather tree bark. Of course, to use as food. I took advantage of one fleeting chance to escape. No one came after me - they probably thought I wouldn't survive.
But I was saved, by a certain Song Jin-Il. He was a priest affiliated to Emmaus, and he had working at the border helping refugees. A few times he had even risked his life to come to Cheon-wang.
I passed the winter under Song's protection. When spring came and I tried to cross the border, I was caught and chased. Song risked his life to save me. Song gave me a new life; I, Song Jin-Il, was born that day in Cheon-wang.
"Is that why you took the same name as him?"
Song smiled serenely again. "It was convenient for me to cover up my identity, of course. But I took his name in order to live as him. We passed the winter in a frugal hut made of piled stones, where he taught me about God's love. I'd been blinded by hatred, but I was able to see the light again."
"So then why would the South... why would your own country rat you out?" Kuji asked.
"Probably because letting me live would have negative consequences for their new political policy of harmony - it's the same reason why they tried to obliterate our unit. I'm a living witness. And in the course of my training, I've killed many people. I've committed a sin that I can't even begin atoning for. But, as I said, my personal information has been erased completely, and I'm a person that doesn't exist on paper. Whoever suspects that I'm Yeong-Il probably isn't sure of it themselves."
Kuji could finally begin to see the picture. The Southerners must have figured that if Song wasn't from the South, he would be from the North. If someone from the North was seen getting in touch with Song, that would confirm their suspicions. If he was from the North, he wouldn't be Yeong-Il. That was why they had tipped off Public Safety and made them keep surveillance on Song.
"And what if they find out you're Yeong-Il?"
"Then, they'll probably try to wipe me out for sure this time."
Kuji stood up from the pew noisily. "Then you shouldn't even be here! It's dangerous! We gotta get away!"
Song shook his head slowly. "Once they find out who I am, it's impossible. My DNA and fingerprints will be registered anew, and they'll chase me to the ends of the Earth. It would be easy for them to make me the perpetrator of a murder I didn't commit."
A sudden realization dawned on Kuji. "It's my fault," he said softly. "It's because I got myself involved in this mess. You tried to help me, and ended up...."
Song shook his head. "No. It's true that I wanted to help you, but in truth I also wanted to help the missing young people. Under no circumstance should the country be allowed to snatch the future away from young people. That applies to this country, too, as well as my own."
Song remained seated as he reached out to take Kuji's hand, pressing it to his cheek.
"Masatake, this country is wrong for treating young people like you in the unfair way it has. But hatred takes light away. I know you've been through a very painful ordeal, but I want you to abandon your hatred and move on."
"I don't hate anyone anymore," Kuji said. "It's because I fell in love with you." He pulled out the gun he had hidden underneath the waistband of his pants. "Now it's my turn to protect you," he said.
"That's mine," Song said, widening his eyes.
"I sneaked into your room. I'm sorry."
"Don't. Give that back," Song said firmly. Kuji brushed the man's hand away and took a step back.
"Are they gonna come right away?"
"Who knows? They likely expect me to try to make a run for it. They'll probably come as early as tonight to finish me off." Song abruptly looked around him.
"What? What's wrong?"
"I hear a car. It's probably them. Masatake, you have to leave this place right now. You're not part of this."
Kuji held the gun in both hands and bent his knees slightly, getting ready to shoot. "I have everything to do with this," he said. "You saved me. So in exchange, I'm going to save you this time."
A sudden ringtone sounded, and Song cautiously reached into his jacket to pull out his cell phone.
"Oh, it's you. You'd like to speak to Masatake?"
After a few short words, Song pressed his cell phone to Kuji's ear.
"Hello? Oh, it's you? How the hell do you know this number?"
"You fucking idiot!" barked the person on the other and. "I'm calling from your cell phone. Found this number in your call history. You left your phone with your jacket, remember? Nice job pulling one over on us, you bastard."
"I don't have time to be talking to you," Kuji said testily. Nango apparently sensed that he was going to hang up and roared in response.