By Zephyria 
As if he could no longer endure it, his low, rough voice seeped through his teeth, piercing cruelly into the ear.
At the same time, his member pushed deep into Seo Chi-young’s groin.
“……..!!”
Seo Chi-young opened his mouth wide as if being strangled, but not even a scream could burst forth. From his occasionally trembling lips, only thin, sob-like sounds leaked out every now and then.
But those cries were unheard. Every time Jang Ui-geon thrust his hips up, driving himself in like a stake being hammered between Seo Chi-young’s legs, the squelching sounds and the loud slapping of flesh echoed overwhelmingly.
Twice—just twice—Jang Ui-geon gripped Seo Chi-young’s trembling waist firmly to lock him in place, pulling him closer as he ruthlessly shoved himself inside. In only two thrusts, he had completely seated himself, filling Seo Chi-young’s body without a single gap.
“…….Uh, ……Ah, ……”
His trembling lips seemed to want to say something, but Seo Chi-young stared vacantly down at his own groin with wide eyes, as if trying to discern exactly what was happening.
Possessing a pressure and sense of foreignness incomparable to a few fingers, the dark member—hidden deep within the crevice of his white buttocks and barely visible—appeared and disappeared bit by bit as Jang Ui-geon slowly swayed his hips, entering and exiting that incredibly narrow space. A connection laid bare.
Jang Ui-geon looked down at Seo Chi-young, whose face was distorted as if he were about to cry, looking lost and unstable, and whispered like a low gasp of admiration.
“Can you see? Right now, you and I have become one. We’re connected as one body. —Don’t you get it? Seo Chi-young and Jang Ui-geon are having sex.”
Seo Chi-young’s eyes widened further. Satisfied, Jang Ui-geon studied that expression in detail with cruelty, then pulled his hips back.
The thick shaft began to slowly slide out from between Seo Chi-young’s tightly gripping thighs.
“……!!”
At the sudden, chilling sensation, Seo Chi-young instinctively recoiled. Regardless of his will, the contracting entrance tightened further, greedily clutching and swallowing the member trying to leave, causing a low, breathless groan to escape Jang Ui-geon’s lips. That breath, laced with hot ecstasy, made the body flush.
Vision clearly informed him of the sensation—the feeling of something wriggling like a living thing as it slid out of his body. Just as hearing had informed him that he and Jang Ui-geon were having sex.
Having pulled himself out almost entirely, leaving only the tip barely inside, Jang Ui-geon paused for a breath and said, “Relax,” before slamming back inside with terrifying speed. He drove himself in so hard and deep that it felt as if his stomach were being struck. He continued to slide in and out.
Chi-young couldn’t count how many times it happened. While Jang Ui-geon persistently worked to widen the path inside him until that thick volume could enter with ease, Seo Chi-young sobbed and struggled.
It was exhausting. He felt suffocated, and his lower body was burning.
Whenever the member scraped against some part of his insides, his body jolted as if a fire had been lit deep in his waist, but his mind was so scrambled that even that was perceived as pain. Unaware that his own member had become erect, and unaware that he was already swaying his hips to match the other man’s rhythm, Seo Chi-young simply cried in confusion and fear.
Then, at some point.
“Ah, …….!”
A moan, nearly a scream of pleasure, burst through his lips involuntarily. His body gave a great lurch.
“…….?! ……??”
Seo Chi-young blinked his wide eyes in confusion. His wet eyelashes felt as if they would make a clicking sound. Just now, something…
Above Seo Chi-young, who was staring blankly into the air with a bewildered face, Jang Ui-geon stopped moving for a moment, suppressing a low moan, and looked down at him with a strange expression.
“…….”
Raising an eyebrow and looking at him curiously, he suddenly began to move his hips again without breaking eye contact. The member, sliding and digging into the packed interior, poked somewhere against the soft inner wall. In that instant, Seo Chi-young shuddered again and let out a feverish moan. Enveloped by the inner walls that tightened sharply, Jang Ui-geon also let out a low gasp.
“……Uh,.., ……?!”
As if electricity had been surged through him, a tingling sensation raced from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. A ticklish crawling sensation was gradually intensifying where Jang Ui-geon was buried deep.
Seo Chi-young looked at Jang Ui-geon in bewilderment. Jang Ui-geon was moving his hips while looking at him with a very strange expression—one where excited ecstasy was slowly rising. Amidst that accelerating sensation, facing Jang Ui-geon, who stared at him as if to devour him without breaking gaze, Seo Chi-young panted as if he were about to cry.
“Th-this, …..this is, is strange. Ui-geon, ssi, …..I’m, strange, sca-scared..”
The successive tingling sensations inside his body wouldn’t stop. He felt like his body had become strange. He felt like his mind was becoming strange, too. Against the member that forced its way open and dug in, the inner walls moved regardless of his will, clinging to it as if refusing to let go. As if pleading for more, just a little more.
“Ah, it feels, ……, …..sca-scared, ah, ……no, it’s strange, …good, it’s good..”
His face grew hot. His body was hot. Even his mind felt scorched; Seo Chi-young didn’t even know what words he was uttering. He didn’t realize that he was tightly hugging Jang Ui-geon’s neck, rubbing his drenched cheeks against the nape of the man’s neck.
Chi-young ssi, does it feel good? It feels good, doesn’t it. Right here. ….It’s okay. It’s okay. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Just keep holding onto me like that. …..Yes. Yes. Just like that. It’s okay. It’s not strange. …Good. Good. It feels good. More. Hug me tighter. Yes. Good. ……!!
The rough sound of breathing constantly whispering in his ear didn’t even reach his mind, merely hovering around the edges of his hearing. Like the lips that repeatedly kissed his ears and cheeks, biting lightly.
At some point, feeling something swelling inside him, Seo Chi-young clung to Jang Ui-geon in a frenzy of distant fear. Hugging his neck and tightening his legs around his waist, he sobbed, clutching him like a child with nowhere else to lean. Perhaps he had called his name. Or perhaps the man’s rough voice had called his.
The desire that had been pulsing and wandering through his stomach, searching for a way out, finally erupted. Almost simultaneously, Jang Ui-geon, who had been pushed to his limit inside Seo Chi-young’s body, also released his desire. The sensation of being drenched by a hot, forceful torrent was so unfamiliar and strange that Seo Chi-young clung tightly to Jang Ui-geon and wept.
When he opened his eyes, Seo Chi-young was alone.
For a while, he couldn’t understand why he was there or how long he had been there. He simply blinked vacantly with a blank, hazy mind.
It took a moment before he realized he was at Jang Ui-geon’s house. He was lying alone in the inner house that he had liked so much.
A water pitcher and a cup were by his bedside, and Seo Chi-young poured and drank the water without thinking. As the lukewarm water went down his throat, his mind slowly woke up. And he remembered why and since when he had been there.
“…….”
Slowly, Seo Chi-young’s expression stiffened. He just blinked, staring at the ceiling. His face, flushing along with the memories, felt as hot as if it were on fire.
For a moment, he wondered if it had been a dream. The memories surfacing in his mind were so surreal that they surely must have been a dream.
However, when he cautiously tried to curl his body, a throbbing, tingling pain pierced through him from the crown of his head to his feet. In particular, his groin, which had been relentlessly rubbed and forced open the previous night, throbbed terribly.
“….., …….”
Seo Chi-young rubbed his hot face, not knowing what to do. He felt pain, shame, and bewilderment.
The memories returned. The memories up until he lost consciousness began to surface one by one. Even the vague memories mixed in between.
Even after that, before he completely blacked out, it seemed that a couple of times, Jang Ui-geon had stiffened and stopped moving, pouring a large amount of hot liquid into Seo Chi-young’s body with a rough gasp. It didn’t seem to be a hallucination felt in his hazy state; whenever he flickered back to consciousness, his groin—where the fire-like member was still entering and exiting—was drenched as if a bucket of water had been poured over it, making squelching sounds.
A few times, while not fully conscious, his body seemed to have instinctively struggled to escape, but each time, he couldn’t break free from the coercion of being gripped firmly by the waist and pulled back roughly, driving the wedge even deeper.
“….”
Uh.., what do I do.
That was the first thought that surfaced in his consciousness.
He felt like he could never look Jang Ui-geon in the face. If the man appeared here at this moment, he would want to dig a hole and hide in it.
Seo Chi-young rubbed his face, which was undoubtedly bright red, and muttered bewilderedly to himself, “What do I do, what do I do.”
Barely managing to sit up with a body that creaked and throbbed as if every muscle were sore, Seo Chi-young finally looked down at himself, lying under a blanket on clean bedding.
While he was unconscious, someone—though there was no need to wonder who—had cleaned him up; his body was as clean and fluffy as the blanket.
However, seeing his upper body exposed above the blanket that had slid down to his waist, Seo Chi-young lost his words.
His entire body was dotted with small, colorful bruises. To put it slightly hyperbolically, he looked down in a daze at the bruise marks that were so densely packed there was hardly any gap. After sitting there blankly for a long time, he belatedly saw a large bandage on his chest and blushed again. Sitting alone in the room with no one else, Seo Chi-young eventually slowly tried to stand up. He tried to put strength into his legs to rise, but collapsed with a thud, blinking in bewilderment a couple of times before he finally managed to stand by leaning on a dresser. Once he was up, he could move, albeit with great difficulty.
Since he had nothing on his body after leaving the blanket, Seo Chi-young looked around with a red face and struggled to put on the clothes that were neatly folded in a corner. He paused to rest several times while doing so.
His body, which throbbed just by moving, felt incredibly lethargic. Touching his forehead, he couldn’t tell for sure, but he felt like he had a bit of a fever.
He felt like he should go home and rest today. But what day was it? Uh.., the sun was high in the sky, so it seemed to be around lunchtime; what about the shop?
The thought suddenly occurred to him, making him anxious for a moment, but as he pulled the doorknob to leave the room, he realized it was Sunday.
If it was Sunday, the shop was closed. Thank goodness. Then he could just go home and rest…
“….. ……..Uh”
But thinking about it, that wasn’t right. He felt like there was something he definitely had to do today. Blinking as he looked at the threshold, he suddenly snapped to attention after glancing at the small wooden clock on the wall.
It was 3 o’clock. 3 o’clock. To be precise, it was slightly past 3.
“Oh my god..”
He was stunned that he had slept for so long, but more than that, today was the day he had to go down to see his mother. The departure time for the train ticket he had already booked was 4:30.
“I’m doomed..,” Seo Chi-young muttered in panic and rushed out of the room. His knees kept buckling, and after nearly falling several times, he haphazardly shoved his feet into his shoes lined up on the porch and descended the stone steps.
Limping, barely moving his legs, Seo Chi-young hurried his pace, but he paused just as he was about to cross the gate of the inner house. He hesitantly looked back.
Still, he should say goodbye. It wouldn’t be right to leave someone’s house without a word.
“….., Um, ……Ui, Ui-geon ssi.”
Calling the owner’s name softly, Seo Chi-young blushed once again.
The moment he uttered the name “Ui-geon ssi,” the situation from just before—when he had called that name—automatically came to mind. The memory of him clinging to the man’s neck and sobbing frantically, calling “Ui-geon ssi, Ui-geon ssi,” returned vividly. Even if he wanted to believe it was a dream, his voice calling the name was thick and hoarse.
He held the doorknob and waited for a moment, but no answer came. Seo Chi-young called out again, this time a bit louder, “Ui-geon ssi.” Even with his frog-like voice, raising the volume made his throat sting.
But again, there was no answer. Even listening carefully, there was no sign of anyone in the inner house. It seemed he really had been alone there.
“……..”
Seo Chi-young glanced at the guest house outside the gate. When Jang Ui-geon wasn’t in the inner house, he usually looked after the shop from the guest house. If he wasn’t in the inner house, he would be in the guest house.
Seo Chi-young quietly closed the door to the inner house and left. Struggling to steady his faltering steps as his strength continued to drain, he headed toward the guest house.
In truth, he wanted to just run away. At least for now, he wanted to avoid encountering Jang Ui-geon. If he saw him now, and if by any chance Jang Ui-geon had the same expression as last night…
He was scared.
He didn’t want to see that face again—the one that looked at him with a chillingly cold gaze, devoid of any expression. Just recalling that icy stare made his heart sink coldly.
What should he do? What if he was still angry?
Seo Chi-young shut his mouth tight. He wanted to flee. He felt shy and awkward, but above all, he was afraid. Afraid he might see that gaze again.
Stop it.
“….., Still, I slept at someone’s house, I should say goodbye to the owner before leaving..”
Seo Chi-young muttered as if coaxing himself as he walked. If he didn’t do that, he felt like his feet would bolt straight for the main gate.
As the guest house drew closer, his body stiffened with tension. His face was already flushing. If anyone saw Seo Chi-young walking awkwardly with his face red up to his neck, it would look quite ridiculous.
What should he say? What words should he start with? “Did you sleep well?”, “I apologize for the intrusion yesterday,” “Are you feeling alright?”
No matter what he thought of, it felt strange somehow. Seo Chi-young agonized over it until his head spun, but he couldn’t think of the right words. Perhaps because he overthought it, his vision actually began to sway.
“…….”
“Uh,” Seo Chi-young slowed his pace and touched his forehead. As expected, it wasn’t a mistake; he really did have a fever. It might even be quite high. His body felt heavy, and he wasn’t in a good state.
Why… is it always like this after having… relations?
Seo Chi-young awkwardly rubbed his face with the hand that had been touching his feverish forehead.
In the meantime, he arrived in front of the guest house. Hesitating at the bottom of the steps, he softly called, “Ui-geon ssi.” But thinking the voice was too quiet to be heard, he called again, a bit louder, “Ui-geon ssi.” However, there was no answer here either.
Seo Chi-young hesitated and then struggled up the stairs. Even climbing just three or four steps felt like a chore for his heavy body.
“Ui-geon ssi. …..Are you not here?”
He peeked into the guest house and spoke, but only silence returned from inside. Only then did Seo Chi-young realize that no one was there.
Standing there blankly and listening, he heard neither a voice nor the sound of anyone moving. Only the occasional sound of birds chirping in the distance could be heard.
Seo Chi-young turned around. In the parking lot visible from the guest house, there was no car.
“Uh..”
“I guess he’s not here,” Seo Chi-young muttered. He stared blankly at the parking lot for a moment before scratching his head. The tension that had kept his shoulders stiff vanished all at once.
I see. He’s not here.
Jang Ui-geon hadn’t just stepped away to look around the house; he was gone entirely.
“……”
Seo Chi-young let out a quiet sigh. Thank goodness, he murmured, yet a dull, aching haze lingered in his chest.
He had felt as though he could never face Jang Ui-geon again, but now that he truly wasn’t there, he felt a void. He felt as if he had been cast aside alone, as if everything that happened last night meant nothing.
Should I call? Or maybe there’s a message? He clicked his tongue at himself for harboring such a fragile, foolish hope, but as he fumbled through his pockets, he remembered that his phone had been broken the previous night. His shoulders slumped.
I see. He’s not here.
Whether it was from disappointment or the sudden release of tension, his head grew hotter; his vision blurred, and the ground beneath his feet felt unstable.
He wanted to go back and lie down, but he didn’t have the luxury. Seo Chi-young tilted his head to look at the clock hanging in the guest house. If he wanted to stop by his home to grab his train ticket and at least change his clothes, he had to leave right now. If he dawdled even a little, he would miss the train.
Seo Chi-young steadied his sinking heart and began to walk.
Later.
Yes, he can just see him later. Whether it’s next week or the week after, he can see him whenever he wants. As long as he doesn’t actively avoid him.
Whatever happened to the fear of running into Jang Ui-geon? Seo Chi-young whispered these reassurances to himself.
As long as he doesn’t avoid me… As the thought occurred to him, it suddenly struck him that perhaps Jang Ui-geon had intentionally avoided him because he felt awkward facing him. Or perhaps, after cooling his head, he regretted doing something so reckless.
“……”
It seemed possible. No, it seemed likely.
Exhausted by his battered body, Seo Chi-young let out a long sigh. Just as his body was worn down, his heart felt spent, as if it were rolling around at the very bottom of a pit.
His father’s hair was stark white, as if covered in snow. Looking at the white hair—so white that no matter how hard one searched, not a single strand of black would be found—Seo Chi-young felt a surge of emotion in his chest. Fearing that something hot, like his own heart, would leap from his throat if he spoke, he silently lowered his gaze. His father said nothing.
People often say the relationship between a father and son is awkward, but Seo Chi-young had generally gotten along better with his father than most. Until they began living apart, they would often go hiking on holidays and share honest conversations.
“How is your mother doing?”
Having visited his mother first for her sixtieth birthday and stayed overnight before visiting his father the next day, Seo Chi-young was greeted by his father’s simple inquiry about her well-being. Seo Chi-young smiled and replied, “She’s doing well.”
“The weather was cloudy over there yesterday. She says her knees ache when the weather is cloudy and looks like rain, but the grandmother she works with scolded her, saying she’s quite healthy for her age. It seems she’s getting along well with the woman she calls Auntie.”
As Seo Chi-young spoke, his father gave a faint smile and nodded, saying, “I see, that’s good.”
“One Kimchi stew set, please,” the restaurant lady said, bringing over a large tray and setting down the earthenware pot and side dishes. In the process, the sporadic conversation was cut short.
There was nowhere in particular to go with his father, who had come to meet him at the terminal. Although he had lived there for several years, it was still a foreign land to his father, and for Seo Chi-young, it was an unfamiliar place he had only visited a few times. Eventually, since it was getting close to dinner time—albeit a bit early—they found a modest restaurant near the terminal.
His father ordered the Kimchi stew set without even looking closely at the menu, and Seo Chi-young ordered the same. The two portions of stew came together in one large pot, and Seo Chi-young took a sip of the broth behind his father.
“It’s edible.”
“Yes, Father.”
Seo Chi-young nodded in response to his father’s brief comment. It had been over a decade, but having been accustomed to the delicious food made by his mother, there was no way the Kimchi stew from a mediocre restaurant by the terminal would taste great. This was true for Seo Chi-young, but for his father, who had enjoyed those flavors for longer and was now older, his palate would be even more discerning.
Come to think of it, his father used to be very picky about food.
He remembered how his father would look displeased if the same side dish appeared for more than two days, and how his mother would complain to her sisters on the phone, saying that this man insisted on fresh rice and new side dishes for every meal and that he was a nuisance morning and night. In response, his father would lift his chin and pretend to be outraged, shouting, “How important is the joy of eating to a person! Why are you trying so hard not to provide it?!”
Watching his father silently scoop up a few pieces of wilted kimchi and bits of pork fat, Seo Chi-young recalled those old memories and smiled bitterly, but that smile soon faded.
It felt as if something hot was clogging his throat. Feeling that he wouldn’t be able to swallow his food if he kept looking, Seo Chi-young lowered his head and diligently moved his spoon. He wondered if his father, looking at his son who was now over thirty, was thinking something similar.
His parents had been divorced for a long time. After the house was lost and the family scattered, they first divorced on paper. As years passed and they rarely met, they were effectively divorced in reality as well.
Seo Chi-young thought that perhaps, without his knowledge, the two had already spoken and completely turned away from each other. Neither his mother, whom he met yesterday, nor his father, whom he faced today, mentioned the other. Even this morning, despite it being his mother’s sixty-first birthday, there had been no contact from his father.
It seemed they had decided to walk their separate paths without bothering to inform Seo Chi-young.
Neither his father nor his mother seemed to have other partners, but Seo Chi-young had vaguely realized years ago that they would not suddenly start living together again.
Whether there was a specific reason, or whether it just happened naturally.
It was the same with his mother.
Last night, arriving late in the small city where his mother lived, he went to the shop he had visited once a few years prior. It was late, and the customers were gone, and she was in the middle of cleaning up.
Since he had already called from the terminal, his mother wasn’t surprised to see him; she simply greeted him warmly and pointed to a table, saying, “Sit there and wait a moment.”
She told him she had already informed the owner and asked him to stay the night in the small room attached to the shop.
“Is this the son who lives in Seoul? Oh my, he’s so tall and handsome. He’s gentle and bright, just like his mother. Do you have a girlfriend?”
Seeing Seo Chi-young pick up a mop to help his mother clear the sink and wipe the floor, the grandmother who was putting containers in the refrigerator smiled, revealing a missing tooth. As Seo Chi-young shook his head with an awkward smile, his mother spoke for him. “Oh, Auntie, really… what girlfriend? He’s just shy. He’s well over thirty now, and I’m worried about when he’ll finally meet a decent young lady,” she said with a bittersweet smile.
Seo Chi-young only lowered his head without answering.
His family did not know about Seo Chi-young’s sexual orientation. Then again, the family had scattered shortly after he realized it, so it was understandable. One can only vaguely know the well-being of family members they don’t live with.
His mother believed that the reason Seo Chi-young hadn’t married or shown any sign of dating women was because he was struggling financially. Whenever they spoke on the phone, she would hesitate for a long time and then let out a pitiful sigh. Yes, if things work out, you’ll be able to start a family too, won’t you? Her whispers were laced with apology toward her son. No, Mother, I will probably never get married, Seo Chi-young whispered only in his heart, filled with guilt.
After finishing the cleanup, his mother took his hand and led him to the small room at the end of the narrow corridor inside the shop, tilting her head.
“Dear, why are your hands so hot? Do you have a fever?”
Before Seo Chi-young could say anything, she placed her hand on his forehead and immediately frowned. “Oh, dear, you do have a fever.”
“Uh… I’m okay. It’s just a slight fever. It’s the change of seasons, so it’s been chilly in the mornings and evenings. I think I caught a cold… everything else is fine. I’m okay, Mother.”
Smiling, Seo Chi-young shook his head and told her to be careful of her health as the weather turned cold, but as soon as they entered the room—which was barely two pyeong—she insisted he lie down, hurriedly spreading out a quilt. She laid out another bedding right next to him and told him to wait a moment before stepping outside.
Lying alone in the narrow room, Seo Chi-young quietly looked around. He had visited his mother a few years ago, but he hadn’t entered this room. He had only sat in the shop for an hour or two during the break between lunch and dinner before leaving.
Looking around the small but neatly organized room, devoid of anything unnecessary, Seo Chi-young let out a quiet sigh. He didn’t want to worry his mother, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, but a part of him felt a slight sense of relief. In truth, he felt quite ill and wanted to collapse and lie down immediately.
He had barely made it onto the train just before it departed, but he had fallen into a sleep so deep it was almost a faint, nearly missing his stop. If a passenger at the station before the last had not carefully shaken him and asked, “Excuse me, are you alright?” he might have gone all the way to the final destination.
Both his body and head were hot. Even the breath he exhaled silently felt as hot as if it were burning his throat. On the way from the station to the shop where his mother worked, his vision blurred and his body felt so heavy that he wondered if he might actually collapse.
Amidst the scent of tea, Seo Chi-young reminisced about old memories alone.
While this was a poignant experience for Seo Chi-young, it wasn’t necessarily so for his mother. The opposite could also be true.
In moments like this, he felt the reality of the time that had passed, distant and regrettable.
“Our Young-ie must be very sick.”
Calling him by the name she used when he was a child, his mother gently reached out and touched the corners of his eyes. It seemed a tear had already escaped. Perhaps his tear ducts had loosened because he was ill.
Seo Chi-young smiled shyly and murmured, “No, I’m not.” His mother was living in a life that had continued for over a decade. That was already her life. Just as it was for Seo Chi-young, the time they had lived together was no longer their current life.
He knew this fact well, and just as he did, his mother likely lived her life laughing and enjoying time with the people around her. Yet, when they were together like this, nothing came to mind except the time they had shared, making him long for those days.
Once he returned home, Seo Chi-young would no longer dwell on such regrets and would live his life as if nothing had happened, but in that moment, he grieved for the old times.
“I’m always so sorry to my son,” his mother whispered quietly in the darkness after the lights were turned off. Even through his consciousness, which was blurred by the fever, those words reached his ears clearly. Seo Chi-young moved his heavy lips and gave a weak laugh. “What are you talking about… I’m the one who’s sorry.”
After that, his mother said nothing more, and this time, a true silence descended upon the darkness.
In that desolate and heavy darkness, Seo Chi-young’s consciousness quickly faded. His body, which had been throbbing with pain since the afternoon, finally cried out in agony once he lay down and the darkness returned. His entire body creaked, as if someone were crushing his joints and muscles. It felt as if heat was radiating from every joint.
Had it been like this yesterday too? In truth, it must have been more painful yesterday. He had simply been too shocked and tense to feel the pain.
With a hazy mind, Seo Chi-young thought of Jang Ui-geon. However, with his head boiling with fever, he couldn’t form coherent thoughts. Only fragmented emotions surfaced: I want to see him, I want to meet him, I’m scared, I’m miserable.
He could no longer tell if the pain was in his body or his heart. Even in his subconscious, the thought that he shouldn’t make any noise while his mother slept beside him remained, so he simply clenched his teeth and curled his body.
After suffering through the night in a state between sleep and wakefulness, he finally regained consciousness at dawn. And it was his mother’s sixtieth birthday.
Despite it being her sixtieth, there was nothing particularly special about it. The two of them ate breakfast side by side, and in the morning, he helped her organize the kitchen and prep ingredients. It was only after lunch that he left. The conversation between them during that time was nothing extraordinary. They only exchanged very mundane words—bring me that dishcloth, by the way, I heard it’s the first birthday of the eldest child of the cousin next week, isn’t it hard to live in Seoul since the cost of living is so high, if it’s too hard, come down near here, and so on.
When the lunch rush at the shop passed and it became afternoon, Seo Chi-young stood up to leave, mentioning that he would stop by his father’s house before returning. His mother simply nodded and didn’t say much. Seeing the two of them already separated and walking different paths, Seo Chi-young only smiled silently.
Just before Seo Chi-young left, as if in place of a formal farewell, his mother said, “Dear, really… if it’s too hard, come down here. It’s not hectic and it’s quiet, so it’s nice. If you look around, there are plenty of places you could work.” The words, spoken after a slight hesitation, were steeped in a longing for her child, and Seo Chi-young responded only with a smile and a bow.
Would the day ever come when they lived together again? Probably not.
Perhaps they could live near each other after some time. But the day they lived together would likely never come again.
Neither for his mother, nor for his father.
Seo Chi-young found himself stopping his movements, staring at the crown of his father’s stark white hair as the man ate with his back slightly hunched. His father, who seemed to have little appetite but was eating silently, noticed and looked at him curiously.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Why, is something wrong?”
“Uh… no. It’s just… it’s nice to see you after so long.”
Seo Chi-young gave a clumsy smile and began moving his spoon again. His father looked at him for a moment and muttered, “What a soft man…” before continuing his meal.
He had even less to say to his father than he did to his mother. Even with his mother, she was generally the one to bring up various topics, and Seo Chi-young would respond. But while he and his father—both men of few words—sat side by side, a quiet silence persisted, broken only by a few common phrases: How have you been lately, is work going well, are you eating well, and so on.
Facing the hair that had turned white years ago, the sunken eyes, the wrinkled face, and the age etched into the hand that moved the cutlery slowly, Seo Chi-young forced down the emotions that felt like they were searing his throat, swallowing them along with his rice.
“Father, please eat a lot.”
“Right. You eat well too.”