YHP 12

“Hello.”

Jeong-in opened the door with a knock and stepped inside. A familiar face greeted him.

“Oh my, Jeong-in! It’s been so long, my goodness… When did you grow up so much?”

The counselor happily extended her arms and pulled Jeong-in into a hug. Jeong-in returned the embrace with a smile.

While he was abroad, he had only heard the counselor’s voice over the phone and hadn’t noticed much, but seeing her face after several years, it seemed to have become warmer and gentler. Jeong-in shifted his gaze from her to the plant that was still sitting at the end of the table. It had also been a long time since he’d seen that old friend.

“It’s grown a lot, hasn’t it? I’ve shared it with other teachers a few times, but it keeps getting bigger.”

“The new leaves sprouting on every stem to welcome spring were vibrant and fresh. When Jeong-in first came here, there were only three or four meager leaves, but now, six years later, it was so lush that counting each leaf would be overwhelming. Jeong-in quietly looked at the roots tangled inside the transparent water bottle.

“Don’t you need to replace this pot? It seems quite full.”

“It’s fine for now. As long as new leaves are sprouting, it means the plant is healthy.”

At some point, the counselor had taken out a fresh sheet of paper and started writing today’s date neatly under Jeong-in’s printed name.

“By the way, how’ve you been? I heard you got into college.”

“Yes. Nothing particularly special happened.”

A small circle was drawn over the single line summarizing his current state: Nothing particularly special happened.

“Still, I’m sure you must have experienced something. Can you tell me what it’s been like attending school? If there were any thoughts you had often while coming and going, I’d like to hear about those too.”

Jeong-in recalled recent events. There weren’t any particularly good memories. From being half-dead and carried off to his uncle’s house on the first day of the semester, to the uncomfortable process of finding a new place to live, and getting involved with an unfamiliar Alpha, none of it was pleasant.

“…I was tired.”

“Can you explain that in a bit more detail?”

“It’s just… I didn’t like any of it—the crowds, bumping into strangers—all of it.”

The counselor suddenly asked, “Has it always been like that?”

“Sorry?”

“There must have been other times when you met a lot of new people… How was it when you were living in Australia?”

Jeong-in shook his head.

“No. I hated it just as much there.”

Although they had discussed this several times over phone counseling sessions, meeting strangers there was also extremely stressful.

Of course, there were a few friends he gradually became close to. Still, unless he had specific plans, he spent most of his time holed up at home or drifting alone on a yacht, aimlessly killing time on the sea.

“Then let’s go further back,” the counselor suggested. “When you first went to daycare or kindergarten, or when you first started elementary school or middle school, how was it then?”

Several scenes flitted through Jeong-in’s mind.

Blocks with rounded corners, new clothes, a persimmon tree made of non-woven fabric, ice cream, new friends, the sound of bells, the playground, a deflated soccer ball, lazy Sunday morning sunlight, and the titles of a few cartoons… And the day he had a big fight with Hyo-jun.

“Ah…”

It was sometime in his early elementary school years, the day before a new semester started. The trouble began when he found a very pretty tree branch in his uncle’s garden.

Hyo-jun had found the branch first. But Jeong-in claimed it, arguing that everything from the garden belonged to the garden’s owner, and he was the owner’s nephew.

Hyo-jun started crying loudly, upset about losing the branch. Feeling guilty, Jeong-in returned the branch right away. To apologize further, he snapped his most cherished toy in half and offered it to Hyo-jun as well. But Hyo-jun cried even louder, saying the robot with its waist cut off was creepy and horrifying.

It was only a matter of time before his uncle, who came out with Bori, discovered the scene, and eventually both of them were scolded harshly. After promising never to fight again and to get along well by linking their pinkies, they sat side by side, sniffling and eating lemon cake. Each held half of the robot in their hands—one clutching the upper body, the other the lower body.

Thinking about that time, a smile spread across Jeong-in’s face without him realizing it.

Most days back then were like that. Looking down from the treehouse high above wasn’t scary, and crawling into unfamiliar bushes beyond the yard didn’t seem frightening at all.

“… I think I liked it.”

“Then when did you start disliking it?” the counselor asked.

Suddenly, the bright, clear mental image of sunlight illuminating his memories flickered and went out.

The lemon cake that had been on a round white plate vanished, replaced by the water bottle stuffed with roots. Jeong-in’s gently smiling face hardened.

“…I don’t want to talk about this.”

Reality had returned. It seemed the counselor was determined to make Jeong-in talk about “that incident.”

“Alright. Let’s put this aside until you’re a bit more prepared.”

Without realizing it, he sharply asked, “How much longer do I have to talk about this? It’s been six years. I barely remember what it was like back then.”

In fact, he didn’t even know why he was sitting here. If not for his uncle’s earnest plea—asking him to keep seeing the counselor until the counselor declared them over—he wouldn’t have looked back.

“It wasn’t my fault. I just happened to pass by that road at that time, and accidentally encountered a crazy bastard.”

“You told me to reflect on how I felt back then. To stay with that moment and comfort myself.”

But it was already over. Although flashbacks sometimes occurred in extreme situations, even those weren’t frequent. Most of the time, he lived perfectly well, as though that event had never happened. How could recalling and forcibly holding onto an event that had already left on its own possibly be helpful?

“Yes, I’ve stayed with it. I know you feel sorry for the young Choi Jeong-in who suffered for no reason. I’ve comforted him enough, and I’ve fully accepted that it wasn’t my fault. But now there’s nothing more I can do.”

“It’s all over, so what more can I do? Should I get angry? The rapist is neither alive nor dead, so what am I supposed to do? If I get angry at that bastard now, will anything change?”

Jeong-in thought he was speaking calmly, but a sudden wave of anger welled up inside him. At that moment, the counselor reached across the table and grasped Jeong-in’s hand.

“Your feelings will change,” she said.

Jeong-in clamped his mouth shut as the sharp anger faded away. She covered Jeong-in’s pale knuckles and patted them gently.

Just like when they first met, her voice was tender and warm, as if she were speaking to a sixteen-year-old student again.

“A person’s mood is sometimes like a balloon that can be inflated and deflated from time to time. If you keep inflating it, it’s bound to burst at some point, and it will eventually burst. Similarly, if you expose it to too much harsh sunlight, it becomes weak and can’t hold as much air.”

“If you want to keep the balloon from bursting, you have to let some air out every now and then. But from what I see, Jeong-in, your balloon still seems quite full.”

That’s because you keep bringing it up.

Jeong-in swallowed the retort that almost slipped out. The counselor still held Jeong-in’s hand tightly.

“It’s okay to be angry, and it’s okay to be sad. As long as you don’t swallow it inside, you can do anything.”

“This week, try to look a little more closely at your current emotions. You’ve always done well, so I’m sure you can do well this time too. Okay?”

She repeated the same words as always. Jeong-in slowly withdrew his hand.

“…I’ll be going now.”

“Alright. Shall we meet again in two weeks?”

He really hated it. However, there was nothing he could do. If this was the one thing his beloved uncle wanted to do for his only nephew, what could he do when he had more than enough time on his hands?

“…Yes.”

With a reluctant nod, Jeong-in left the counseling room.

Inside, his heart still felt like a chaotic mess, and it felt unbearably stifling. Even taking deep breaths didn’t improve anything and only caused pain for some reason.

Counseling was always like this. Even if he entered with a calm mind, by the time he left, his emotions were inevitably stirred up, leaving him uncomfortable. And in the end, nothing ever changed or was resolved.

Jeong-in thought he should talk to his uncle about ending these counseling sessions. As he stepped outside the building, he stared at the counseling room’s window. He felt as if the days he had somehow endured had been mired in just that one hour.

It was clear—he needed to be in the water today.

With a heavy heart, he pulled out his phone. First, he checked the website of the sports center near the office building he often visited. As expected, their evening slots were packed with post-work classes for office workers. It seemed impossible to book a session at the pool. As he was about to search for another place nearby, a thought suddenly struck him.

“…School.”

The school had a swimming pool. Classes were only held during the day, so it was unlikely many students would use the pool late in the evening. If luck were on his side, he might be able to reserve it.

He quickly accessed the school website. As expected, there was a link to the pool reservation page tucked away in a corner. Although the message stating that reservations were only available if no one else had claimed the slot felt ominous, thankfully, the timetable showed that the entire afternoon today was completely empty.

As he climbed into his car, Jeong-in made a call.

“Hello, I’d like to make a reservation for the swimming pool.”

He started the engine, glancing briefly at the clock on the navigation screen.

“Yes, starting in 30 minutes. I’ll use it for just one hour.”

Suddenly, he remembered the plant on the counseling room table.

Jeong-in imagined stealing the plant trapped in a narrow bottle and releasing it into the expansive swimming pool.

He thought that as the delicate roots stretched endlessly, filling the pool, and when the lush leaves swayed, it would sound like rain falling.