"Noona, stay with me. Keep your eyes open."
A young boy, cradling a bloodied woman, pleaded desperately. The woman, coughing up blood, struggled to speak.
"Chaeyoon… I have a wish…"
"A wish?"
"I wanted to fulfill it once I got out of here, but it seems hopeless now. Could you do it for me…?"
The boy, called Chaeyoon, furrowed his brows openly. The moment the word "wish" left the woman's mouth, some of the desperation in his gaze faded.
"Cough, cough! Cha… Chaeyoon… my wish…"
"I'll go get Uncle Sangtae."
"N-No, it has to be you, Chaeyoon."
"I told everyone that if I get out of here, I'll die, that I'll take my own life. Why is everyone like this? Uncle Sangtae is right over there, and so are Alex and Kangjin hyung. There are so many people here—why do they all come to me?"
"If you grant wishes for the living, can't you grant one for the dead?"
"That seems a bit different."
"Cough, cough… Huff!"
The boy's expression turned increasingly cold as the grip on his forearm weakened. He muttered a curse under his breath.
"Fine. What's the wish? If it's something I can do, I'll grant it."
The woman, as if she'd been waiting for his response, finally spoke.
"Three million squats, five thousand runs. That's all I need…"
The boy was at a loss for words. The woman, as if satisfied, closed her eyes and drew her last breath. Around them, comrades wept and called out her name. For the boy, who now had 218 ridiculous last wishes to fulfill once he left this place, all he felt was bitter frustration.
***