“Let’s apply some more medicine after the meal. How are you, do you have strength to hold your spoon?”
With that, Seokhun laughed lightly, making a sound like a gentle breeze, and released his hand.
Geun-yeong quickly pulled his released hand back to himself and was shocked by the man who was laughing after making a not-at-all-funny joke. Afraid his shocked expression would show, he lowered his head and picked up his spoon. He worried that, though unlikely, the man might say something like “Shall I feed you?” He kept his head bowed low, gripping the spoon firmly, and chewed and swallowed the food that seemed especially nauseating today. The plain soup with a strong fishy taste from boiled radish made him feel queasy. He felt like throwing up.
“Slowly, chew thoroughly.”
The seemingly very caring words of concern sounded like an order. Geun-yeong, who had been quickly sipping soup, choked and coughed.
The taciturn housekeeper had seemed indifferent due to her gruffness, but it seemed she was just reserved. As if she had been attentive to their situation all along, she quietly approached and placed a water glass beside Geun-yeong before turning away. This made Geun-yeong even more anxious.
Unable to raise his head, he merely put his lips to the water glass, then quickly lifted his neck, bending it back sharply to avoid meeting the man’s gaze.
Now, as Geun-yeong drank water while looking straight up at the ceiling, the housekeeper with a breakfast tray passed by, making just enough noise with her footsteps. She was heading to the room of the woman who hadn’t come out for several months now.
Delivering three meals a day to the room where pianist Yeom Eunyeong stayed was an important task for the housekeepers who came to this house. Seokhun, who didn’t even glance at the housekeeper’s unremarkable behavior, asked Geun-yeong, whom he had been watching all along:
“Have you made plans for winter break?”
Trying to avoid eye contact with the man, Geun-yeong ended up drinking the entire cup of water. He put the cup down and wiped the water from his lips. With his gaze moving around as restlessly as his actions, Geun-yeong answered without much delay.
“…I applied for volunteer work.”
“Hmm. Volunteer experience does give bonus points in interviews. But it seems unnecessary for you.”
That’s right. Ji Seokhun served as a member of the medical personnel committee at the general hospital where Geun-yeong would likely consider an internship after graduation. Bonus points from volunteer work were unnecessary when the interviewer was his own father.
“There’s an observation program at JH Madeleine Hospital. I’ll create a position for you to go as a PK, so let’s go together during the break. I’ll adjust my sabbatical leave.”
“No. I just want to volunteer—”
“Geun-yeong.”
He wanted to say more about how he had already promised Donghwa and even applied, but the man cut him off. Looking at the face of the boy who couldn’t close his mouth, he put down his spoon and said:
“Use me. Everything I said to you yesterday was sincere.”
Geun-yeong alternately looked at his adoptive father, who was now speaking boldly without any hesitation, and at the partially closed door where the housekeeper had entered. His once-restless eyes were now trembling slightly. The frightening words he had heard last night echoed in his ears.
‘You are no longer my son from now on. You are my lover. You are the only person I love. If you’ve reached the age where you should love someone and have sex, then love me and have sex with me. No one else but me.’
The moment he realized he had been maintaining eye contact for too long, Geun-yeong quickly lowered his gaze. While pondering the words of the man sitting across from him, he obligatorily emptied the rice bowl that he hadn’t yet finished.
With about two spoonfuls of rice left, he said:
“Laptop…”
“Hmm?”
Geun-yeong put down his spoon. He raised his head. Looking directly into the eyes of the man who was staring back with wide eyes, he said again:
“I think I need a new laptop.”
It was rare for Geun-yeong to request something first. No, it seemed more than just rare. It seemed like the first time since the day he had severely disciplined him for not granting his request to meet some guy. Seokhun, whose mood had considerably improved thanks to Geun-yeong’s request, nodded and replied enthusiastically:
“Sure. Let’s go out. I’ll buy it for you.”
But what Geun-yeong wanted wasn’t to go computer shopping with Ji Seokhun.
“…My friend’s brother assembles computers, and he said he could customize it with upgraded specs.”
“I know. That’s what they do, I hear.”
“He said he could assemble it right away if I give him a deposit.”
“Alright. Let me know the account number and amount.”
“Yes.”
The external image of a father wasn’t a bad person. Especially, he was known for not being petty about money matters. This was particularly true for matters involving Geun-yeong’s classmates or the man’s social acquaintances.
Geun-yeong took out his phone. He sent the man Woo Donghwa’s account number, where they had collected dinner fees, along with a reasonable amount.
Of course, Woo Donghwa, who didn’t look like it and was an only child, didn’t have a brother who knew how to assemble computers.
* * *
After breakfast, as Geun-yeong came down the stairs prepared to go out, the man following him with his gaze asked with his eyes about his plans.
“I need to cancel my volunteer application, so I’ll stop by the teaching assistant’s office and then meet a friend. I’m going to drop off the laptop I’m using now. His brother said he’d look into selling it secondhand.”
The explanation was longer than usual and uncharacteristically wordy. But Geun-yeong, dressed in his favorite jacket and wearing the backpack he often carried to school, didn’t look particularly suspicious. Since there wasn’t much to be suspicious about, Seokhun, who permitted his outing with a simple “go ahead,” said:
“Come back early. Let’s go to the department store in the afternoon. That jacket you’re wearing looks a bit worn out.”
He had bought it just a few months ago at the beginning of winter. It couldn’t possibly be worn out already. But Geun-yeong didn’t say anything special and just nodded. He gave a small “yes” that was loud enough for the man to hear.
“There’s a new Korean restaurant in Daechi-dong that has a nice, not excessive menu. I’ll make a dinner reservation.”
“Yes.”
This time too, Geun-yeong gave a brief answer.
Ji Seokhun enjoyed taking Geun-yeong to department stores and famous restaurants, buying him things and feeding him. Each time, Geun-yeong followed without saying anything. He hadn’t particularly refused the man who played the role of an ordinary father during the day buying him expensive things, feeding him, and clothing him for his own satisfaction. This was because, despite not being related by blood and despite the significant difference in the expression of affection and methods of discipline compared to other households, he still thought of himself as the man’s son during the day.
‘You are no longer my son from now on. You are my lover.’
But not anymore. He couldn’t casually accept gifts from a man who told him to think of himself as a lover, sit across from that man for a meal, walk side by side, and go shopping while looking at the same things. It was beyond his endurance limit.
Geun-yeong chose the most comfortable pair from his unnecessarily large collection of sneakers.
“I’m heading out now.”
He gave the same greeting as when he normally left for school and went out.
From there, Geun-yeong stopped by the teaching assistant’s office located in the hospital annex. First, he applied to cancel his volunteer activities.
Then, using the shared computer in the office, he logged into the university portal site, applied for a leave of absence, and printed out the supporting documents. Then he looked at the still-empty bottom section of the form. For the leave of absence application to be processed, his academic advisor’s signature was needed. But his advisor was Professor Ha, the very person who used to report all his academic activities to that man.
After staring at the document with the empty professor’s signature field for a while, he went to the teaching assistant.
“I’ll leave this here. My father will contact Professor Ha directly later.”
“Huh? What’s this? What? Leave of absence? Ji Geun-yeong, why, what’s going on?”
Geun-yeong just smiled. He couldn’t tell the assistant that although he was submitting a leave of absence form now, he didn’t know if he’d be able to return. Of course, it would be nice if he could come back later, but he probably wouldn’t be able to.
The assistant, who had no way of knowing Geun-yeong’s unspoken circumstances, looked at the reason for the leave of absence and asked when he saw that none of the options—military service, illness, start-up, pregnancy and childbirth, childcare, or recommendation—were marked, but rather ‘other’ was checked.
“Why, are you not feeling well? Or are you going for some kind of training?”
“Yes.”
Geun-yeong smiled brightly, pleased that an appropriate answer had been provided for him, which made the assistant lose his temper.
“What do you mean ‘yes,’ kid! Are you sick, or are you going for training!”
“Both.”
The assistant, who had been glaring at the young man giving such casual answers, twisted his already narrowed eyes even more and said:
“Don’t smile, man. I’m getting attached to you.”
“Yes.”
The assistant, who was giving a not-so-fierce glare at the still-beaming young man, straightened his twisted eyes and said as he put the leave of absence application in the document storage box:
“I’ll pass it on when Professor Ha comes in.”
“Thank you.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
