Even after he came out from underground, the darkness did not disappear right away.
As they approached the exit of Derinkuyu Underground City, the air gradually became lighter. The smell of stone faded, and the evening wind coming in from outside reached faintly into the depths of the narrow passage. Human voices returned as well. The guide’s explanation, the sound of shoes, someone’s laughter. The surface, which until moments ago had seemed like a distant dream, suddenly drew closer wearing the face of reality.
And yet, the sensation of white fur still remained on Barış’s fingertips.
The dog did not move.
Even after Barış took his hand away, it remained seated beside the marks on the wall.
Barış looked back several times. The dog was still there. Beneath the dim light, only its white body seemed to remain quietly visible, refusing to sink into the darkness underground.
It still had no name he could call.
That was why he could not say anything.
All he could do was look.
When he climbed the stairs toward the exit, the evening light entered his eyes. It was stronger than he had expected. The world above had not ended yet. Tourists stood in front of the souvenir shops, and a small bus echoed with the sound of its engine. Someone bought a bottle of water, and a child skipped down the stone steps.
The world wore the face of knowing nothing.
Nothing remained anywhere of what had happened underground only moments before.
That he had touched the white dog.
That the dog had not run away.
The three marks on the wall.
A small line.
…afa.
/04.
All of them seemed to remain only inside Barış.
On the road back to Göreme, the view outside the window changed into the colors of evening. The rocks of Cappadocia wore a different expression from the one they had shown during the day. Slopes that had looked white and dry sank into shades between red and gray. Shadows stretched long across the distant valleys, and the openings in the rocks looked dark like eyes.
The tourists spoke in quiet voices.
About tomorrow’s hot-air balloons.
About breakfast at the hotel.
About which restaurant had been good.
Their ordinary conversation felt slightly distant to Barış.
It felt as though he alone had returned from somewhere else.
By the time they reached the guesthouse, lights had begun to appear across the town of Göreme. The chill of evening settled between the stones of the sloping streets. The smell of grilled meat drifted from somewhere, and the sound of glasses carrying tea rang softly.
At the entrance to the guesthouse, the young man noticed Barış.
“You were late.”
“I was… underground for a while.”
No more words came.
The young man looked as though he wanted to ask something, but stopped himself almost immediately. Instead, he turned his eyes toward the area outside the entrance.
“The wind is strange today.”
Barış stopped walking.
“The wind?”
“Yes. There is no sound, but it feels as if something passed by.”
The young man smiled. It was not the kind of smile that carried any deep meaning. Yet those words alone remained in Barış’s chest.
There had been wind on the morning of Episode 1 as well.
A wind that seemed to push him forward.
A hand that had stopped just before touching.
The sensation of being guided by something invisible.
At that time, he had known nothing yet.
Now, there were things he had come to know.
But there was almost nothing he understood.
When he returned to his room, the world outside the window had already begun to turn blue and dark. The lights of Göreme floated here and there among the shadows of the rocks. Even this town, which looked like a tourist destination during the day, suddenly regained an ancient silence when night came.
Barış sat on the edge of the bed.
Forgetting even to take off his shoes, he looked at his right hand.
There was nothing on it.
No white fur, no soil, no stone dust.
And yet, warmth still remained in his fingertips.
He had touched it.
He had truly touched it.
That fact alone remained quietly inside his body.
His father’s map was still lying on the table. One edge had curled upward slightly. A thin current of air coming through the window faintly moved the corner of the paper.
Barış began to reach for the map, then stopped.
He did not want to search for his father’s answer anymore today.
But he could not stop searching either.
For some reason, it hurt that the hand that had touched the white dog underground was the same hand that would touch his father’s map.
Touching the past, and touching the warmth that existed now.
The two had become mixed together within the same fingertips.
Barış opened the window slightly.
The night air entered from outside. It was dry and slightly cold. He thought he heard the voice of a dog in the distance.
He raised his head.
Once more, he listened carefully.
He heard nothing.
There were only the sounds of the town.
People talking, a distant car, the sound of dishes touching, the wind.
That was all.
Even so, Barış could not take his eyes away from the view outside the window.
Was the white dog still underground?
Or had it already gone somewhere else?
Was the warmth he had touched truly something he had brought back to the surface?
There was no answer.
Night gradually entered the room.
Barış did not turn off the light.
It was not because he was afraid of the darkness.
He simply felt that the underground passage would return within it.
The low ceiling.
The three marks.
The dog that did not run away.
And the nameless warmth.
Even after he lay down on the bed, sleep did not come immediately.
Each time he closed his eyes, the lights of the underground city appeared.
The stone walls drew closer.
The white fur returned to his fingertips.
He had not been afraid.
That was what frightened him.
Barış slowly closed his right hand.
He was holding nothing.
Even so, there was still something he could not let go of.
Each time he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, only the sensation of that white fur remained in the darkness.
