7 Works by OneManWreckingMachine
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(Day 7 of Sangihun Week 2025 - Free day)
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Sang-woo had been petrified of thunderstorms as a child. Even a mildly overcast sky was often enough to make him hold Gi-hun tighter around the waist than usual while they rode to and from school on the latter’s bicycle, and if it stormed for real while they were together, Gi-hun would take it upon himself to wrap him in both his bedsheets and his arms while he clasped his hands over his ears and waited for the ominous crackle in the sky and his own incessant sobs to turn back into birdsong and soft, even breaths.
Gi-hun understands now, but he can’t ask Sang-woo to return the favor anymore, because he bled to death in his arms last month.
(Day 6 of Sangihun Week 2025 - Rainfall)
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A few hours and a hearty plate of bibimbap later, Gi-hun has a plan—one he decides is best not to inform his mother of before leaving the house again lest he receive a smack on the hand for so much as thinking about doing what he’s about to do. The sun is hanging low in the sky, meaning he’ll need to act fast, but desperate times call for desperate measures; he needs Sang-woo back at school tomorrow, and if a little delinquency is what it takes to get him there, he’ll reap any consequences he has to.
(Day 5 of Sangihun Week 2025 - Carnations)
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Gi-hun sits cross-legged at the end of a small pier overlooking the Han River, flanked by his leather bag and an untouched styrofoam container of tteokbokki. All that remains of the sun is a faint line of scarlet caressing the horizon, the moon now preparing to take center stage in its place. Visible stars are few and far between, nearly every one seized and suffocated by Seoul’s own luminosity on their way down, but there are far worse sights to behold. He decides he’s waited long enough for the moment of truth and pulls the marble frame out of his bag, taking a moment to run his fingers over its smooth edges before reaching into the chest pocket of his jacket for the other half of the equation.
(Day 4 of Sangihun Week 2025 - Frames)
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Overall, the business trip so far has been largely predictable, even with Gi-hun tagging along. He’d never flown before, much less internationally, and Sang-woo had been more than prepared to hold his hand through that learning curve. He’d been prepared for the ordeal of playing translator for two people rather than just himself, the abundance of shitty food—and Gi-hun’s morbid insistence on trying all the shitty food he can—and perhaps most of all, Chicago’s curious ability to cycle through all four seasons on any given day.
The only thing he hadn’t been prepared for was the massive mirror fixed to the ceiling directly above the bed in their hotel room.
(Day 3 of Sangihun Week 2025 - Mirrors)
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Sang-woo has never been religious—not until this very moment, as Gi-hun’s eyes flutter open and he sees the face of God. God, who used to beg Sang-woo for homework answers and loose change for the lunch line. God, who Sang-woo has shared hundreds of cigarettes with, never once thinking to say grace beforehand. God, who has seen Sang-woo at high glory and rock bottom alike, who could map out every mole on Sang-woo’s body with His eyes closed, who knows where all of Sang-woo’s dead are buried—and burned. God, who has always been here, playing mortal and urging people to build their cathedrals in Sang-woo’s name instead.
(Day 2 of Sangihun Week 2025 - Apotheosize)
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There’s a sudden sting in Sang-woo’s nose, and he sneezes into the crook of his elbow, the sound making him cringe and prompting a giggle from Gi-hun. “Don’t say it,” Sang-woo warns.
“Say what?”
“That I sneeze like a kitten. I know I do, hyung; you’ve told me hundreds of times.”
“I wasn’t going to!”
“Right.”
(Day 1 of Sangihun Week 2025 - Rings)
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