Farewell to Farewell

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Staring at the small booklet in his hands, Jeong Hyeok mentally went through all the emotions that he was supposed to feel.

He was supposed to feel excited, on gaining a passport which could open doors to 189 countries, either visa-free or visa on arrival

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He was supposed to feel excited, on gaining a passport which could open doors to 189 countries, either visa-free or visa on arrival.

Yet all he felt was fatigue.

He was supposed to be happy.

Yet in his mind, all he could do was despise himself.

He was supposed to grieve.

Yet his heart was celebrating the fact he would soon be reunited with Se-ri and Jeong Hwan.

The fiercely conflicting emotions canceled each other out as they clashed repeatedly.

Only a blank, white space was left in his head.

Earlier, he had been briefed for a final time on the settlement benefits, housing benefits and vocational training options among all the support rendered to the North Korean defector by the South's government.

Deep down, Jeong Hyeok appreciated all these efforts, really.

Honestly, if it wasn't for the fact that he was drowning in self-contempt, he might have been able to embrace all the settlement aid from the South Koreans.

It's alright; he would secretly donate whatever he could to the other defectors who needed the support more. Some of them were unskilled - seeking employment in the highly competitive South was going to be an arduous process.

He didn't require the extra help; he had Se-ri.

He had his hands; all he needed was a piano.

The others weren't as lucky.

A part of him was also unwilling to take so much from the South's government as well.

He was reluctant to feel indebted to them, but that was a stupid thought really, when he had already made the choice to leave the North.

As much as it was shameful for a man to rely almost entirely on his fiancée for financial support and housing until he managed to find meaningful employment, Jeong Hyeok felt more comfortable doing so than surviving on handouts from the South Korean government.

Everything to do with his identity on the outside had been razed to the ground; this tiny bit of nationalistic pride in him was all he had left to hold on to.

Defection turned out a lot harder than he had thought it to be.

It's okay, think of Se-ri.

Think of Jeong Hwan.

It was too late, all too late for any form of regret, or what ifs.

Avengers don't regret.

Once again, the only direction left was forward.

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