HMLU Ch 20
by soapaOne day, out of the blue, a dream-like situation unfolded where I met my boyfriend’s parents and was even welcomed by them. However, this didn’t bring about any significant changes in my life. I was still a graduate student in the humanities department, struggling with job prospects and having to prepare for graduation next year.
“Student Shim Haemin, are you interested in a global internship by any chance?”
Therefore, I couldn’t help but be wide-eyed at the proposal I heard in the lab I visited after a while.
“The second half schedule is out. Even though you are still in your second semester, you have quite a bit of research experience, so I think it would be good to apply.”
“Ah, thank you. But, I, what kind of…”
“The duration is three months, starting from December, and you can choose the country you want and apply. Detailed guidelines are on the department homepage, so go and have a look.”
“Yes, thank you for your consideration, Professor.”
As soon as I bowed deeply and turned around, I realized, oh no. Three months starting from December…
‘Chanhee’s birthday is in December.’
Since we had already promised to spend it together, it couldn’t be helped that I felt uneasy. Usually, English-speaking countries have high competition rates for internships, so it’s not guaranteed I’ll get it just because I apply, but…
…He said his birthday was on Christmas.
I walked absentmindedly down the hallway of the department and turned my gaze to the window. The lush greenery of summer was gradually shifting to the next season. This kind of weather, neither hot nor cold, with a gentle breeze, would only last for a very short time. Before I knew it, the time of the biting wind would arrive.
Suddenly, I wondered how I spent Christmas every year. Then I remembered what Chanhee had whispered.
‘I buy a cake for Christmas.’
Right, I bought a cake… Since I was little, I thought it was natural, and I never missed a year. The people I spent it with were different each time, but no matter how many people there were, I always bought the biggest cake from the shop I visited that day.
“…”
How did that answer come about? As I carefully retraced my memory, it wasn’t difficult to recall. It was while Chanhee was talking about finding ‘Nickmer’s’ SNS. When I asked why he thought that person was my first love, that’s what he said… That I bought a cake every Christmas.
At the time, I was so taken aback by the topic itself that I just let it go, but now that I think about it, it’s a strange thing to say. If it was my first love, they would know my birthday and would have celebrated it even if they were alone… So, the person who bought a cake every year must be my first love.
Isn’t that a bit of a leap in logic? I would never expect someone I knew online as a child to still remember and commemorate my birthday. Even if I grant that they might remember it because it’s Christmas, believing that buying a cake every year is for themselves is… It seems like something a child would think.
…More than anything, I don’t remember anything at all… I haven’t brought it up since visiting my home in Seongnam, but isn’t it certain that Chanhee still believes I am that first love?
“Ha…”
It seems like it will only cause me a headache. I tried to shake off the painful thoughts and think of something else. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t always go my way. A familiar face was approaching me from the other end of the hallway, glancing my way and walking at a brisk pace.
With messy hair, thick glasses, and a skinny build, anyone could see it was Jang Kitae… In other words, JangDdo. When our eyes met, he gave an awkward smile and raised one hand.
“…Hey, Haemin.”
He even spoke to me. And in a really strange tone. The sudden encounter was awkward, but since it had been so long, there was a clear indication that he was hoping the resentment from the past had mostly dissipated.
…This bastard, I suspected it, but it seems he genuinely doesn’t know that I am Meritocracy. Even though we played games together for several years, he so easily dismissed his suspicions after a single, unconvincing confirmation from Popuri. It was amusing to realize that he hadn’t shown even a sliver of interest in me as a person during all that time.
“What brings you here? Are you here to see the professor?”
“Yes, well…”
“Ah, I’m going in now.”
“Yes, yes. Go ahead.”
I nodded my head in greeting and tried to pass by, but my arm was suddenly grabbed. I instinctively shook him off, but Jang Kitae persistently tried to entwine his hand with mine again.
“Haemin, wait a minute, let’s talk…”
“Don’t grab me and just speak.”
“Let’s go somewhere and talk. I really want to explain. Okay?”
“Hyung, stop touching me. What are you doing right now?”
It wasn’t until after I shook him off about four times that he stopped trying to grab my arm. During that time, the gazes of those passing by in the hallway were gradually turning towards us. Since Jang Kitae wasn’t the type to act tactfully in situations like this, I couldn’t help but sigh.
“What are you trying to say?”
“Let’s sit down and talk. There’s something you misunderstood. I never did that on purpose…”
“I didn’t misunderstand anything, so you don’t have to make excuses. Let’s just quietly go our separate ways. Okay?”
Honestly, I already know what this guy is going to say if he makes me sit down. I didn’t have bad intentions, it wasn’t malicious, I didn’t do it on purpose… These kinds of people usually believe that since they are not villains, all their mistakes can be forgiven.
“Haemin, you can at least listen to what I have to say.”
And with the narcissistic belief that everyone will naturally be curious about my true intentions.
“Hyung, I’ve been telling you I don’t want to talk. Is that hard to understand?”
“So, I know you’re angry, but…”
“I’m not angry. Because I know what kind of person you are after experiencing it, I just don’t want to deal with you anymore.”
Jang Kitae stopped the hand he was unconsciously reaching out in mid-air. Funnily enough, he looked shocked. I also felt uncomfortable after saying something unnecessarily cold, but it couldn’t be helped.
“…No, you…”
Jang Kitae blinked and gave a hollow laugh.
“You’ve known me for years… And you’re cutting ties like this? How can you be so heartless…”
When I didn’t reply, he let out a deep sigh as if for show. I wanted to ask him if he had such great affection for me that he was still badmouthing me, but I held back. If I did, he would believe I was saying this because of the gossip.
“If you have nothing more to say, I’ll be going. It would be nice if you didn’t contact me unnecessarily or pretend to know me from now on.”
“…”
“Go in.”
I turned and walked away, leaving him behind as he sighed in disbelief.
“You think you can get away with treating me like this and still be okay in the department?”
A trembling voice reached me when I had taken a step away. I pretended not to hear and quickened my pace. I know what he meant. He was asking how I would explain the reason for our falling out.
I truly question how someone with the intelligence to think such a thing could be a threat, especially when we are both graduating seniors, managed to get into this university. I shook my head and felt a lingering discomfort all the way home.
🕹️
The internship was at several overseas university research labs affiliated with the school. Since it was a three-month program, I figured I’d mostly be doing odd jobs, but it was an opportunity where there was absolutely nothing to lose if I got accepted.
‘The required English score isn’t that high either.’
I picked up my phone while skimming through the guidelines. It had been six months since I last took an English test. In any case, since they would be reviewing applications, it was obvious that a higher score would be advantageous. I briefly organized the research records to attach and searched for upcoming test dates. It was then that Chanhee called.
―Hyung, have you eaten lunch?
“Huh? Yeah.”
―What were you doing? Can I come over?
“Uh… Yeah, come on over.”
…Come to think of it, I should tell Chanhee about the internship application beforehand. Aside from the birthday issue, it’s a three-month stay abroad.
Would he be disappointed? I scratched the side of my head, lost in thought. Should I just apply and tell him if I get in? I quickly dismissed the cowardly thought that briefly crossed my mind. This kind of thing should be discussed in advance. That seems like the right thing to do. I steeled my resolve and braced myself. I must remember. Even if Chanhee feels upset, it can’t be helped. The most important thing in my life right now is getting a job.
“Where are you going?”
The numerous scenarios I had played out in my mind disappeared the moment Chanhee asked with sparkling eyes, as we sat facing each other with cups of coffee he had brought. Instead of showing disappointment or trying to hold me back, Chanhee seemed rather excited.
“I’m thinking of applying to the US or Australia… But why are you so excited?”
“Huh?”
“I said we’d have to be apart for three months if I get accepted.”
“Why would we be apart? I can just follow you.”
“…”
Cough, cough. A dry cough escaped me at the unexpected solution.
“Follow me? You… What would you do there?”
“I’m sure there’s something I can do. I can get a part-time job or something.”
“You’re planning to stay for the whole three months?”
“Yes. I’ll leave with you and come back with you.”
“You mean live together?”
My voice seemed to have risen a bit without me realizing it. Chanhee, who had been silent for a moment, shifted his gaze as if sensing my reaction.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I can get a separate place…”
“Ah, no, that’s not it… Internships usually arrange accommodation locally. You’ll probably end up in a shared house…”
As I hastily explained, Chanhee’s eyes sparkled again.
“Do I have to live in the accommodation they provide? Can’t we live together in a place I find?”
It seemed he had been harboring dreams of a short cohabitation since I brought up the internship. I groaned and looked away. Of course, I also want to spend more time with Chanhee, and if he follows me abroad, I wouldn’t have any worries, but…
“Are you sure you’d be okay with that?”
Is it okay for me to disrupt his life like this? No matter how rich his family is and how unemployed he is right now, isn’t this too big a decision to make so easily? From my perspective as an ordinary person, I couldn’t help but feel apprehensive.
“What is?”
“No… You should discuss it with your parents first.”
“I think they’d be happy if I told them I’m going with you…”
Chanhee rested his chin on his hand and narrowed his eyes. His tone was full of conviction.
“You don’t know until you ask. Tell them first…, ah, never mind. We don’t even know if I’ll get accepted, so let’s talk about it again if I do.”
I waved my hand to quickly change the subject and cleared my throat. However, Chanhee seemed to have more to say. Turning to face me, he tilted his head and asked.
“By the way, Hyung. Where are you planning to get a job?”
It was a sudden hit to a vulnerable spot.
“I’ll go anywhere that accepts me…”
“You don’t have a specific company in mind?”
“I have a target salary, but no specific company…”
“So you’re good with anywhere as long as the salary matches? Then would you consider a publishing company?”
A publishing company? I blinked and looked back at him. Ah, I see. This guy, perhaps…
“Why, is your father offering me a job?”
His thinking is so one-dimensional. As I chuckled, feeling both amused and exasperated, Chanhee answered easily.
“Yes. He told me to ask.”
“…”
At this point, his personality is… Is it more likely due to his father’s genes rather than his environment, which inevitably lacked social interaction? Speechless, I shook my head with a smile still on my face.
“He must have been joking.”
“No, he was serious. He said he couldn’t ask for more than a new editor like you to join.”
“No, no. What are you talking about? An editor? How can I do that?”
I knew from the beginning that Chanhee’s father was an unusual person, but this was an eccentricity that far exceeded my expectations. How could he casually offer me a job at his company after meeting me only a few times? Especially when I’m not just a friend of his son but his boyfriend. He must be either planning to marry us off or he’s completely thoughtless ― it’s a proposal that couldn’t have come about otherwise. Probably the latter.
“Anyway, let’s talk after I get accepted into the internship. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“By the way, your father really… Doesn’t he trust people too easily?”
After saying it, I worried it might have sounded like mockery. Fortunately, Chanhee simply shook his head, humming.
“No, he’s only nice to you.”
“…Really?”
“Yes, he seems grateful to you in many ways.”
Grateful? For what? Before I could ask in bewilderment, his face came close. Chanhee bumped his nose against mine like a knock and smiled bashfully.
He looks more like a puppy than a bear at times like these. An incredibly handsome, affectionate, and attention-seeking puppy. As I cupped his smooth cheeks in my hands and kissed him, the rich aroma of coffee spread across my tongue. With a peck, our lips parted, and his sweet flesh licked deep inside my mouth.
“Mmm…”
My upper body collapsed onto the bare floor, which didn’t leave much space other than the desk, chairs, and bed. Chanhee, who was leaning on his elbows with his head resting beside mine, whispered with a low chuckle.
“Is the soundproofing good here?”
I couldn’t help but burst out laughing before quickly covering my mouth.
“What if it is?”
“Well…”
Ticklish breath flowed from his lips as they crept closer. I instinctively pulled my head back to avoid him.
“The soundproofing is bad. Everyone can hear even the slightest noise.”
“Hmm.”
“If you don’t want to be publicly embarrassed, just stick to kisses, okay?”
“I wonder…”
He trailed off, gently biting my lower lip and nibbling playfully. Meanwhile, his hand, as if out of habit, was lifting my t-shirt. …I think I’ve spoiled him with bad habits. I placed my hand on the floor, intending to at least suggest moving to the bed, when it happened.
The phone I had left on the desk started ringing loudly. The vibration, which seemed to scrape against the cheap plywood surface, made my eardrums tingle. I hesitated, anticipating an unwelcome call, but it was too loud to ignore.
“…Just a second.”
As I pushed against his firm chest, Chanhee sat up with a look of disappointment. I reached for the phone hesitantly and, as expected, it was him. The two words ‘Father’ made me feel suffocated.
“Should I step out?”
Chanhee asked, watching me hesitate with the phone in my hand. I instinctively shook my head and forced a smile. I felt silly for making him worry about such trivial things.
“No, no. It’s fine.”
Stopping Chanhee from getting up, I brought the phone to my ear. Fortunately, the voice on the other end sounded quite cheerful.
―Son, have you eaten?
“Yes, have you had dinner, Father?”
I could see Chanhee’s expression harden from the corner of my eye, but I pretended not to notice. I lowered the call volume discreetly with the hand holding the phone.
―Yes, I have. I ate. By the way… Can you come home tomorrow for a bit?
“Tomorrow? What for…”
―What for? It’s been too long since we’ve had a meal together as a family. Your mother misses you, even if she doesn’t say it. I’ll make you something delicious, so stop by, okay?
I felt bile rising in my throat. The feeling of utter bliss from just three minutes ago had plummeted.
I licked my lips and desperately composed myself. The thought that an embarrassing conversation might ensue for Chanhee if I showed even the slightest hint of reluctance or refusal jolted me awake. I forced a wide smile and spoke in a gentle voice.
“Yes, Father. I will. What time should I be there?”
It’s strange. When I was young, I longed for even a little bit of kindness from him, but now I feel more comfortable when he openly curses and gets angry at me.
―Good, son… Father loves you very much. You know that, right?
How my stomach churns every time I see his face, pretending he’s never been a bad parent…
“Of course, I know.”
When I hung up and turned around, Chanhee was sitting on the bed, looking up at me with concern. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sat on his lap.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Is something wrong?”
As I pecked his lips, he wrapped his arms around my waist, but his gaze remained uneasy.
“Do you have to go to your family home?”
“Yeah. I’ll just have dinner and come back.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll just go and call you later.”
“…”
“Or should I come over and go straight to your place?”
When I asked, pinching his cheek, a brief flicker of joy crossed his pale face. …So easy. So cute. As I looked down at him with a faint smile, Chanhee tentatively asked, as if bargaining.
“Are you going to stay the night?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll stay the night.”
“For how many days?”
“How many days do I have to stay? Won’t one hot night be enough?”
Only after deliberately teasing him did Chanhee let out a light laugh. He’s so kind to play along like this. As we continued to hug and nuzzle, I suddenly stopped. A question, thick as mud, kept rising to my throat, becoming sharper with every distinct sensation of our mucous membranes touching.
“Hey, Chanhee…”
“Yes.”
“…”
Does your parents liking me so much have anything to do with that first love or whatever?
As I hesitated, unable to utter the words, his curious eyes drew closer. I quickly put on a perfunctory smile and changed the subject.
“This is a bit much for broad daylight, don’t you think?”
“…Is there a time limit?”
“Legally no, but morally yes. Let’s agree to keep your hands only this far.”
I grabbed and pulled out the hand that was trailing down my back and reaching for my pants. Chanhee let out a dissatisfied hum and rested his forehead against my shoulder.
I couldn’t smile anymore. Every time I swallowed an important question, a muddy anxiety piled up in a corner of my heart. I felt as if this unevenly hardened mass would one day trip me up and make me fall.
🕹️
The dark story of Druid was gradually approaching its final chapter. To save Otan, they had to either find a new host for the sacred tree or destroy the tree completely. The former would return the power of the sacred tree to the Kapivan tribe, but the latter would inevitably lead to the Kapivan’s extinction.
Of course, the result ‘I’ wanted was to save Otan and extend the Kapivans’ lifespans, but finding a new host for the sacred tree meant turning some innocent person into Otan’s current state.
―Meritocracy, my colleague and only friend. There are many bad guys in this world. Those who deserve this kind of fate… At least, there are plenty of those who deserve it more than me.
Otan naturally said this, and
―We will not interfere with your choice. We will only accept the consequences.
The Kapivan also naturally said this.
I was already displeased with my upcoming schedule, and with the story in the game also unsettling, I couldn’t muster any energy. In the end, I decided to leave for my family home a little early.
[Guild] Meritocracy: I won’t be online today.
[Guild] Meritocracy: If you have any complaints, speak now.
[Guild] Popuri: Where do you think you’re going, leaving me behind?
[Guild] Ongpak: Ah, Guild Master, can I buy a storage with guild points?
[Guild] Meritocracy: Shared storage? Personal storage?
[Guild] Ongpak: Just shared for now.
[Guild] Meritocracy: Okay. Buy a personal one too when we have more points.
[Guild] Meritocracy: Again?
[Guild] Popuri: Where are you going, leaving me behind? ㅠ0ㅠ
[Guild] Meritocracy: I have to meet my boyfriend.
[Guild] Meritocracy: Again?
[Guild] Pencil: Whoa.
[Guild] Eraser: Whoa.
[Guild] Popuri: Hmm, tmi…
[Guild] City Boy: If Puri can tell me what tmi stands for within 10 seconds, I’ll give you a Mentos.
[Guild] Popuri: lol
[Guild] Popuri: No lol
[Guild] Popuri: lolololol
[Guild] City Boy: Okay, the Mentos is mine.
As soon as I exited the game, leaving behind the always boisterous guild chat, my phone rang. It was Chanhee.
―Are you really sure I don’t have to drive you?
“I said it’s fine. Wait at home, washed up and behaving.”
―It’s not a bother for me to drive at all… I just like being close to you.
I should be getting used to these sweet words by now. I tapped my heated cheeks and forced out some nonsense.
“Oh really? You like Hyung that much?”
―Yes, in the whole world…
“The most in the world? That much?”
―No. You’re the only one in the world.
“…”
―Saying ‘you’re the best’ means… there’s a comparison group. There’s no one to compare you to. You’re always the only one.
Chanhee’s affection sometimes…
“…Is that so?”
Sometimes feels closer to adoration.
“Anyway, yeah… I’ll call you as soon as I get back.”
―Okay.
I hung up the phone, stood up, and rubbed my face. I still wanted to believe I was overreacting.
🕹️
Even though it was a long journey requiring multiple transfers on public transportation and being jostled by crowds, it felt particularly short today. Since there was nothing good about arriving at my family home early, I decided to kill some time at a distance where only one village bus ride remained. I looked around, thinking about getting a cup of coffee, when a local bakery caught my eye. Mom likes the cream bread from that place. Without much thought, I walked into the bakery.
I bought a roll cake, various cream breads, and an Americano, then sat at a table. The scenery outside was not much different from when I was a child. Since the shop had been there since I was in elementary school, the interior was also familiar.
The cozy shop, with its colorful handmade cookies and candies, various kinds of bread and pastries displayed appetizingly, looked like a giant gift box to my younger self. Especially the buttercream cakes in the showcase next to the counter…
“…”
My gaze, which had naturally shifted, stopped at the cake showcase. A ticklish sensation, like bubbles rising in my head, washed over me. I vaguely recalled the moment I was hanging onto that showcase, peering inside.
When was that? I think the owner, with an awkward smile, asked how much money I had. It was probably because I had said I needed a big cake. I furrowed my brow and blinked a few times. Why did I need a big cake? At that young age when I had to stand on my tiptoes just to see the cakes inside the display.
‘Can you carry it by yourself?’
I vaguely recalled the worried question as they handed me a large cake box. A nostalgic feeling, like a warm tide rising, washed over me. I’m not sure, but I think that moment was very happy and exciting…
‘What was it…’
Lost in thought, my phone buzzed briefly. Thinking it might be Chanhee, I quickly checked, only to sigh.
[It’s Jang Kitae. I changed my number. Please save this number.]
Is this guy crazy? Why is he telling me he changed his number? I sighed deeply and put the phone back in my bag. It was time to leave.
🕹️
A 15-minute ride on the village bus, which came every 20 minutes, took me to the entrance of the apartment complex. As I entered the house, my mother, who had come out to greet me, momentarily stiffened her expression.
“Did you hurt your forehead badly?”
I realized my mistake belatedly. Come to think of it, this was the first time I was seeing my mother since the injury. I shook my head, saying “No, no,” and handed her the bag of bread first.
“It’s a waterproof bandage, so I put on a big one. It’s a small injury. Very small.”
“Let me see. Take it off for a second.”
“I don’t have any spare bandages. It’s really nothing. It just looks dramatic because it’s on my face.”
Despite my cheerful tone, her gaze didn’t leave my forehead. Meanwhile, my father, who had sauntered out from the bedroom, cleared his throat.
“Haemin is here?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Why did you buy all this? You’re coming to your own home.”
I felt a little nauseated by the hand that patted my shoulder with a friendly smile. I handed the bag to my father and slightly backed away.
“It’s nothing. Just some cream bread and…”
“Aren’t you worried that your child came home with his face like this?”
I wasn’t the only one surprised by the sudden sharp voice. My father, too, stared at my mother with wide eyes. Mother, with her brow deeply furrowed, muttered coldly, as she had never done before.
“There’s a limit even to this…”
I instinctively glanced at my father. He seemed at a loss for how to react to this unexpected situation. However, knowing that his confusion usually manifests as anger, I quickly turned to my mother.
“Hey, Mom. It’s really nothing. It’s just a tiny scratch.”
“…”
“Why, what are you so upset about? Let’s just eat. I came all this way because you said you’d make me something delicious. Right?”
As I put my arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the kitchen, she finally closed her mouth and started walking. Father also remained silent with a hardened expression.
Even the lavish dinner table, fit for a holiday feast, looked dull. The atmosphere itself, with the two of them not even looking at each other and engaging in awkward conversation centered around me, already made me feel like I was going to get indigestion. My mother piled all sorts of greasy meat dishes onto my rice bowl, my father rambled on about useless trivialities or pried into my personal life, and if my chopsticks slowed down even a little, they’d pester me about whether the food tasted bad, to the point where I didn’t even know what I was eating.
They weren’t exactly an affectionate couple to begin with, but it was the first time they openly fought and entered a cold war in front of me since I became an adult. As soon as I forced down a bowlful of rice, I struggled to dissuade my mother from giving me another and stood up from the table.
“Should I get you some coffee? Or tea?”
“Water. Just water.”
My solar plexus felt tight, as if I was about to get severe indigestion again. It was a good thing I had brought digestive medicine, just in case.
“Haemin.”
It was as I gathered the dishes to help with the cleaning and stood by the sink. My mother called me in a small, calm voice that was almost drowned out by the sound of running water.
“Mom, should I get a divorce?”
“…”
“I think that’s the right thing to do.”
I blinked silently. Did I hear that correctly? A faint, hollow laugh escaped me after I replayed her words a couple of times in my head.
“Now?”
I swear I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic or reproachful. I was simply curious. Why, after 18 years of being remarried to that man, was she thinking about this now? My mother, with a face that didn’t even suspect any criticism in my words, continued speaking softly.
“Well, you’re graduating soon… And you’ll be getting a job.”
“…”
“I think it would be easier on my mind if we lived just the two of us…”
So, she was saying that once I started earning money, my father would no longer be necessary. Hence, this timing. I put down the dishes and answered calmly.
“Of course, I’ll give you money for living expenses once I get a job. But it will be difficult for us to live together. I’m planning to go far away.”
“Far away where? Mom can go with you.”
“I’m looking for jobs overseas, so I don’t think that will work. If you want to get a divorce, do as you please. I’ll help if there’s anything I can do.”
My mother stared at me silently for a moment. A clear sense of betrayal flashed in her round eyes. I smiled brightly and asked again.
“Should I do the dishes?”
My mother turned on the water and started washing the dishes without answering. I didn’t ask further and stepped back. I had eaten, so there was no reason to stay longer.
“I’ll be leaving a bit early today. I have to catch the bus.”
I spoke towards the living room, leaving my still-silent mother behind. My father, who was sprawled on the sofa, sat up, saying “Oh, okay.”
“Thanks for coming, Haemin. Okay?”
“I’m the one who’s thankful. But my bag…”
“Ah, I put it in the study. I’ll get it for you.”
He stood up and went into the study before I could say anything. It was a sight I couldn’t have even imagined in the past.
If they were openly bad when I was young, these days they’re vaguely bad ― that was my honest impression of them. It’s probably because they’re getting old and I’m in my prime. They must be reluctant to show their bad side now that all that’s left is to collect the reward for raising me.
It seems foolish. Why did they believe such a future wouldn’t come for them when I was younger?
“Haemin.”
Lost in thought, I didn’t realize it was taking too long for him to bring just one bag. I looked up belatedly at his call, only to have my breath catch in my throat. My father was standing there frowning, holding my bag in one hand and his phone in the other.
“Who is Jang Kitae?”
“…”
“Why is he saying this to you?”
Even though the phone was locked, the beginning of the message was visible without unlocking it. My heart sank. Why didn’t I block him right after the first message? What if this bastard… What if he said something about me being gay?
“…What did he say…”
As soon as I opened my mouth, all the blood drained from my body, and cold sweat trickled down. My legs felt weak, as if I might collapse. Then my father sighed deeply and shouted loud enough for it to be heard in the kitchen.
“This is why they say you shouldn’t raise a beast with black hair!”
My mother still didn’t react. I quickly put on my shoes and opened the front door. I pretended not to hear the shouting behind me.
I just wanted to go back. I wanted to go back and see Chanhee. Because Chanhee likes me. Because he’s the type to absorb only affection from my every word and gesture. Even if I show him this utterly desolate, ruined heart, he’ll still do that. As soon as I got on the bus, I wiped my stinging eyes and sent a message.
[Leaving now]
[I think I’ll arrive around 9:30]
As soon as the ‘1’ indicating unread messages disappeared, a reply arrived.
[Should I come to meet you ㅇ///ㅇ]
I laughed at the emoticon that still didn’t match his personality. Clutching my phone, I lowered my head. My chest ached with the overwhelming feeling of having a place to escape to with my wounded heart.
I want to see him right now. When I see him… Even if I put on a brave face, Chanhee will know. He’ll try to comfort me without even asking. And I’ll just pretend not to notice and readily accept his care and affection. I stopped my train of thought and rubbed my forehead.
‘What am I saying…’
How addictive irresponsible dependence is. I let out a long sigh and sent a reply saying I was okay. Chanhee replied with a heart emoticon.
There was still some distance to my stop. I calmed myself down and opened the Apfo community window. Immersing myself in game talk was the best way to deal with a complicated mind.
As I casually scrolled through the bulletin board, filled with the usual trivial disputes, I noticed an update notification on the [Developer News] section. Is it a Solga-related tip? However, as soon as I entered the board, a completely unexpected issue appeared at the top.
<Im Jungah, releases a new novel ‘Asyrus of Fortune’ after 15 years … Exclusive Interview>
What premonition caused my heart to sink before this news, which should have been simply surprising and welcoming? I hesitated for the time it took the bus to pass two stops before I could finally open the content. The interview, conducted in a conversational format, looked dense and long at first glance.
―It’s your first new work in 15 years. Please start by greeting the fans who have waited for a long time.
Im Jungah: There are readers who waited 15 years? Wouldn’t there be far more people wondering who this person is, suddenly doing this grand interview?
―If you say that, the readers who spent their childhood with 『The Saga of Isea』 will be very disappointed. Including myself (laughs).
Im Jungah: Ah, so you’re asking me to greet the readers who have Im Jungah somewhere in their childhood memories? Then I’m happy and grateful. I thought you meant there were people who waited 15 years, longing only for me.
―There are people like that too. People like me. (laughs).
Im Jungah: Thank you for saying so. (laughs) Anyway, I’m someone who is remembered by some and forgotten by others. It’s a new experience for me as well to meet you all with a new work after such a long time.
―I’m most curious about your recent situation. What have you been doing while you weren’t writing?
Im Jungah: I continued to write. I just wasn’t creating works. My writing activities stopped around the time my child turned seven. From then on, I wrote about my child almost every day.
―What kind of writing about your child?
Im Jungah: It all starts the same. With the results of that day’s blood test. How many white blood cells there are, how much the red blood cells have decreased or increased compared to yesterday, how dangerous the neutrophil count is… After recording the necessary information, I start writing manually. What the child ate, how much they ate, what they said, what they did…
―A blog post explained that you stopped writing due to your child’s illness.
Im Jungah: I wrote that in my spare time. At the time, I didn’t even have time to breathe, busy recording everything about my child all day long. There was a period when dissatisfaction over my neglected series erupted in a bad way. It just so happened that I stopped at a point where it was getting really interesting.
―I remember that. The serialization stopped right after the protagonist obtained evidence that the archmage Yulto stole my magic and called for a holy trial.
Im Jungah: So you can imagine the uproar. To be honest, at that time, I was just annoyed and didn’t care. Thinking back now, I was naive and ungrateful. I was young back then…well, not so young, but young.
―I don’t think so. Wouldn’t any parent struggle to stay sane when their child is sick?
Im Jungah: Is that so? But looking back, you know. I don’t think I was that lost or immersed in despair. As I mentioned before, I was devoted to recording.
―What kind of recording were you so focused on?
Im Jungah: Just… After repeatedly bringing my dying child back to life and confining them to that cold, barren sterile room several times, I realized that it wasn’t a given that this child was alive. That they could disappear from my side at any moment. That the image I see today might be the last. That someday, even my memories might fade after losing them, so I thought I should leave as many records as possible.
I vaguely recalled the blog post that announced the child’s illness. The post was very short and filled only with necessary information. A debate erupted in the comments. I remember the prevailing argument was that if she had to abandon the series because of her child’s illness, she should have shown more sincere remorse to her readers. (I still think that’s bullshit.)
The blog was still there. Recalling the picture of the child dressed in a pink dress, I slowly scrolled down.
―’Today might be the last.’ I think there’s a connection to the main theme of the new work.
Im Jungah: Right. Actually, in my younger days, I thought narratives that resolved all conflicts by having characters get terminally ill or have accidents were really lazy and pathetic. Stories where, regardless of the environment, emotions shared, or catastrophes they faced up to that point, everything is resolved with a cancer diagnosis or a car accident, leaving only love behind.
But after experiencing it myself, I realized that the life we enjoy every day is not a given at all. Conflict is a luxury we can only afford in a stable daily life. We just don’t realize it because we have a habit of assuming our lives will always maintain this level of normalcy. So the moment that breaks, you forget about all the past conflicts and whatnot. That’s how people are.
―‘The illusion that my life will always stay this way.’
Im Jungah: There’s no homeostasis in life. At least, there wasn’t for me. Despite that, I thought I would continue to enjoy this level of life until the day came. If someone had told me 22 years ago, ‘The child you will give birth to will be diagnosed with a serious illness at the age of seven, and because of that, you will spend 10 years stuck in a university hospital,’ I would have scoffed.
My fingertips hesitated. A child born 22 years ago, diagnosed at seven, battling illness for 10 years… I paused scrolling and read the sentence over and over again. Staring intently at the phone screen in the swaying bus made me feel nauseous.
The strange feeling had been there from the beginning. It wasn’t just because of the child’s personal information Im Jungah described. The personality that came across in the writing, the unique tone and way of thinking, were too familiar. I felt like I had met this person before… That’s the feeling I got.
“…”
Even as I thought it couldn’t be, I moved my thumb again. The interview still had a long way to go.
―It’s a difficult question, but if you could go back to 22 years ago, what choice would you make?
Im Jungah: I’d have to ask my child. If they had to go through everything they’ve experienced all over again, would they still want to be born?
―What do you want your child to answer?
Im Jungah: I don’t know if my opinion matters, but I think they’d say they want to be born again. My child is very excited about their relationship these days. While raising them, even though they’re my child, I often wondered what they were thinking. These days, their love life is written all over their face, it’s funny. They’re either gloomy all day or walking around with a silly grin. It’s all because of their relationship, no doubt about it. That’s all they do.
―I imagine you must be very happy that your child is healthy and even in a relationship.
Im Jungah: I’m happy, relieved, and also have new worries. Just because they’re healthy doesn’t mean it’s over. I have to make them into a functioning member of society.
―Is that why you worked hard on your new novel? (laughs)
Im Jungah: That’s right, that’s right. (laughs) I’m out here earning my child’s tuition.
―In that sense, I think we should talk about 『Asyrus of Fortune』. It’s been talked about ever since the game launched that you were in charge of the scenario.
Im Jungah: To be precise, I designed the overall framework, and other writers were in charge of the detailed stories. I wrote the <Shadow Warrior> tank and <Druid> dealer storylines from beginning to end.
―Then, will the novel version unfold with the story of one of those two classes?
Im Jungah: The protagonist of the novel is a Druid boy who grew up in a Kapivan village. But all classes and races of Apfo are dealt with significantly.
―I’m personally curious. Are you aware of the two ‘trash characters’ of Apfo? (laughs)
Im Jungah: What are trash characters? Failed characters? That’s a bit harsh.
―Druid is particularly famous for its ‘transcendental’ difficulty in all aspects, from leveling up to operation.
Im Jungah: Really? Why? Operation aside, I understand that leveling up is not difficult at all compared to other classes. That’s what the developers found during their internal testing as well…
Even after reaching the point where the story I was truly curious about began, I couldn’t concentrate at all. It just so happened that the subway station was approaching, so I got off the bus. During the short walk to the entrance, the cold wind tickled my forehead. My mind was completely filled with the interview content I had just read.
I couldn’t rule it out as an impossible coincidence. But I couldn’t imagine there being another person whose life events overlapped with mine to this extent.
‘Does your mother also work in publishing?’
I recall the moment Chanhee’s reply was subtly delayed. Going back further, there was the business card Chanhee’s father had given me. CEO of Ondo Publishing. The publisher of 『The Saga of Isea』…
Chanhee had said his parents had been incredibly busy lately. And today, the news of the new release came out. Then, perhaps, the mother I met recently could be…
“Crazy…”
My steps faltered. A dizzying sensation, like someone pulling the back of my hair, swept through my body.
“No, no, no…”
Even as I muttered like a madman, my hand dutifully tapped my transportation card on the sensor at the turnstile. An announcement stated that the train I needed to take would arrive in two minutes.
No, that can’t be. Im Jungah’s child is a daughter, isn’t she? I definitely saw a picture of her wearing a frilly pink dress.
This wasn’t a problem I could solve by agonizing over it alone. As soon as I sat down on the subway, I dug out my old ID and opened the blog window.
Im Jungah’s blog, with updates stopped at a date 15 years ago. When I was in elementary school, I definitely had a brief exchange with Im Jungah’s child on this blog. Im Jungah even left a thank you message for me. Staring at the guestbook still filled with spam, I opened the blog’s photo album with trembling hands.
‘What’s that ID?’
When I asked why he was digging around for ‘Nickmer’s’ ID, Chanhee had answered with a faint smile.
‘My first love.’
My heart started pounding. It was so fast that I felt nauseous. The screen changed at my fingertips, and the records from 15 years ago appeared clearly.
“…”
Even at this point, ‘perhaps’ and ‘no way’ coexisted within me. The excitement of what if it’s true and the reasoning of there’s no way such a coincidence exists clashed by the second. Soon, a picture of a loud, childish pink dress appeared. Clicking on the post, I unconsciously swallowed hard.
The reality of the pink dress was a little different from my memory. It wasn’t a picture of a child wearing the dress, but a carelessly taken picture of the dress spread out on the floor. Below the picture of the dress, with its cheap fabric and crudely attached lace, a short, self-deprecating comment was written.
[They say if you dress your child in this, ghosts will mistake them and leave them alone. Is it true?]
The first pieces of the puzzle, scattered in my mind, clicked into place.
At the time, because I was young, I didn’t understand what the phrase “ghosts will mistake them and leave them alone” meant. I easily forgot the words I didn’t understand and only remembered the part about ‘dressing the child’ in the dress shown in the picture. That’s why I thought Im Jungah’s child was the owner of this dress and a girl.
The superstition of dressing a sick child in girls’ clothes so that ghosts wouldn’t take them away… The implications of this fact were crystal clear.
‘How can you be so sure that person is your first love?’
The first love that Chanhee so unshakably believed in…
‘Forget about it.’
…Could really be me.
My fingertips, fumbling over the screen, slipped. I felt dizzy and overwhelmed by the rush of emotions swirling up from deep within my heart. I covered my forehead and lowered my upper body.
Am I happy? I think so. Am I surprised? Of course. The person I saw was Im Jungah?… Let’s put that aside for a moment.
Am I anxious?
“…”
That’s exactly why I’m frozen here like an idiot.
“Ah…”
Thinking back, Chanhee liked me from the moment we first met… No, he liked ‘Nickmer.’ He acted as if he would do anything to be with ‘Nickmer.’ When did I start to crave the affection that he poured out without reservation or hesitation?
‘You’re kind, Hyung.’
Chanhee was always like that. He looked at me with eyes that firmly believed there was no one as good as me in this world. He never doubted, questioned, or probed my inner thoughts. While I felt comfortable and complacent with his attitude, which was closer to faith than affection, there was a lingering doubt that kept surfacing.
―Why does he go to such lengths for me?
The reason I didn’t delve into this question, neither with Chanhee nor myself, was simple. Because it was comfortable. Because every moment spent with Chanhee was simply comfortable. I glossed over all his eccentric behaviors. Concluding that Chanhee was just a bit unusual.
But what if…
‘That person was the first person, other than my family, who made me promise something…’
What if the foundation of the affection poured out on me, the absolute, unquestioning trust, stemmed from that time 15 years ago?
‘…and made me not feel lonely.’
The empty train rattled hollowly. My hands, knowing what they had to do, sifted through the necessary records and brought them before my eyes, regardless of my will. The short guestbook conversation I had with Chanhee 15 years ago, the letters exchanged via email afterwards…
“…”
The fragment of the outside world that a seven-year-old child, trapped in a sick body after losing their daily life overnight, could hold onto.
‘You’re the only one, Hyung.’
Of course, he couldn’t help but love me…
My vision blurred, and a teardrop fell onto the smooth screen. The email I sent to Chanhee 15 years ago, before Christmas, contained a picture of a snowflake crystal taken during science class at school. It was like a dried flower buried in a time capsule. The beautiful, scentless petal looked fragile and precarious, as if it would crumble at the slightest touch.
If you look closely at snow, it looks like this. Amazing, right? ^ㅡ^
Hey, you said you couldn’t have cake or flowers in the hospital room last time ㅇ.ㅇ
Even if you can’t have flowers, you can have snowflakes, right?
Even if you can’t have whipped cream, you can have a cake made of snow.
I wish I could send it to you for your birthday, I wonder if it will work?
It’s all coming back to me. Fifteen years ago, I was a child desperate for love. From my parents, teachers, friends… I carefully watched for my place, feeling relieved when I acted obediently and earned praise.
So I must have tried my best. Kindness was my survival tool. You just have to do well. If you do well, we won’t have any problems. I was brainwashed by my father’s constant repetition of these words and believed them without question. I believed that if I did well, if I just became a good child, I could obtain stable happiness and gentle affection.
When did I give up? How many nights did I spend in despair to accept that no matter how hard I tried, it was useless? It had been a long time since I smoothly navigated situations with flattering words, waiting for the day I would leave everything behind…
I squeezed my eyes shut. How should I explain this to Chanhee? That the child who occupied his memories was an illusion from the beginning, and that I had long since discarded even that illusion.