Before you start reading please be advise that their might be switching on terms between Ahjussi and Uncle but they are the same thing I was just debating and then I realized why don’t I use both lmao.
Intruder
Seonwoo was lying down with his head propped against the sofa armrest. On the cheek not touching the sofa, there was a faint bruise so subtle you wouldn’t notice unless you looked closely.
The brown leather sofa was a three-seater, so there wasn’t enough space for Seonwoo to lie down comfortably. That’s why his spine was curved in a position perfect for straining it, with both sneaker-clad feet gathered together outside the sofa.
The steady sound of keyboard typing and occasional page-turning could be heard. On the table right next to the sofa, several half-eaten snack bags were placed.
Mom hated messiness, so when there were no guests, she maintained the place in a state as tidy as a model home, but even when Seonwoo occupied the sofa like this and cluttered the table, she didn’t say much.
[Mom.]
There was no answer, but Seonwoo knew Mom was listening, so he continued talking.
[Why aren’t you scolding me?]
Seonwoo raised his right hand in front of his eyes. The skin on the knuckles of his hand, which protruded when he clenched his fist tightly, was scraped and red. Both Mom and Dad had been called to school since morning and had just returned because he’d gotten into a fistfight with a male classmate.
However, it was the other party who had thrown the first punch, and it turned out he was the perpetrator who had been causing Seonwoo bad trouble all this time. Once the situation was somewhat sorted out, only the offending student remained at school, and Seonwoo left early with his parents.
Dad had an urgent deadline, so he returned to his studio, and Seonwoo came to the office following Mom. The reason he didn’t go home was because of Dad’s request to wait with Mom since they’d have dinner out as a family that evening.
Seonwoo didn’t feel guilty or intimidated by this incident, but he also knew it wasn’t something well done enough to warrant the whole family gathering for dinner out.
[What?]
[You had to go back and forth to school because of me. It was a hassle.]
[Your dad and I don’t even care about that?]
[I hate it. So just scold me.]
[I don’t know who you take after to be so stubborn.]
[I take after Dad.]
When he said that, Mom laughed quietly. Usually, such an expression about a husband would be taken as an insult, but Mom seemed to regard it as a compliment.
Seonwoo sat up from his sprawled position on the sofa. He put the leftover snacks in his mouth and looked at Mom.
[You’ve never scolded me once since way back. Why is that?]
He was occasionally curious. Mom had the exact same personality as him, so she wasn’t particularly affectionate. But it wasn’t like she treated Seonwoo with indifference either. With that personality, the fact that she didn’t ignore him even when he bothered her like this was proof that affection existed.
[Would you believe me if I told you?]
[I’ll at least hear you out.]
The typing stopped briefly, and her gaze, which had been fixed on the computer screen, turned toward Seonwoo. Then she grabbed one temple of her glasses and pulled them down. Her slightly upturned eyes stared intently at Seonwoo.
[You look exactly like your dad, so when I look at you, I don’t feel like scolding you.]
[…….]
[You asked me to tell you, didn’t you?]
Seonwoo put down the snack he was eating with an expression that had completely lost its appetite. It was a happy thing that his parents maintained a harmonious married life even at their age, but it also came across as awkward to their son, who was still going through puberty.
[Then if I had been a son who resembled Mom, I would have grown up getting scolded a lot.]
[I still wouldn’t have scolded you.]
[Why?]
[How could I scold them? A child who resembles me.]
Seonwoo still had a blank expression. It was generally the expression he made when he didn’t understand what other people were saying.
[You have a child too. Then you’ll understand.]
[I wonder. With my personality like this, will I even get married?]
[That’s true too. Is our son going to become an old bachelor?]
At those words, Seonwoo grinned and lay face down on the sofa.
[It’s because Mom and Dad raised me so indulgently that my personality is like this.]
[If you know, then behave yourself.]
Mom stopped typing briefly and waved the phone she had placed next to the mouse.
[Your dad. He’s been constantly messaging asking if you’re okay since earlier.]
He was worried sick because his hand was injured just a little over a month before the practical exam. He cared more than Seonwoo himself. And yet not asking Seonwoo directly was so like Dad.
[Didn’t you say Dad was busy? Isn’t he working?]
[That’s what I’m saying.]
If someone who didn’t know them heard this, they’d think it was a curt response, but a faint smile hung on Mom’s lips. Seonwoo, still lying face down on the sofa, sent a text to Dad. Saying he was hungry. Saying let’s hurry and go eat. It was uncharacteristically whiny content.
In truth, he’d already filled his stomach with snacks and didn’t feel hungry at all. But he knew this would make Dad happy. Seonwoo felt willing to do so even without anyone telling him to.
That evening, the family of three ate duck baeksuk. Both Seonwoo and Mom disliked noisy and crowded places, so it was a restaurant they visited whenever there was something to commemorate. It was about an hour’s drive away, and since it was a weekday and not vacation season, there weren’t many people.
After finishing dinner, they walked along a trail that had been developed nearby. If they moved just a bit further from here, there was a valley. Dad was already planning next summer’s water play while looking at the signpost.
The heat had subsided and the air was cool. From a place neither close nor far, the sound of insects could be heard. Then when the wind blew, the sound of countless leaves rustling layered over it.
The parents sipped mixed coffee from the restaurant vending machine, and Seonwoo licked a stick ice cream he’d gotten from the freezer right next to the vending machine. Even the sensation of the rough surface with frost formed on the outside of the ice cream scraping against his teeth remained vividly in his memory.
It was two months before Seonwoo’s family had their accident.
After being transported by ambulance, five days had passed. As Seonwoo had worried, he hadn’t been able to take a single step outside the hospital since then. However, the one confined to the hospital wasn’t Taejeong but Seonwoo himself.
The hospital room Seonwoo stayed in was a single room. But the interior was completely different from the one he’d been in a few months ago. Rather than a hospital, it was like a hotel room with some medical equipment placed in it.
Seonwoo was leaning against the large bed wearing a patient gown. The Vice Director’s diagnosis was a cold. It sounded like an insignificant illness, but Seonwoo had literally come back from death’s door.
There were no problems with his bones or ligaments, but there were many minor issues. Not to mention running around in the pouring rain for over an hour, he had a bacterial infection from the wounds on the soles of his feet, high fever, and whole-body muscle pain all piled on top. It would have been abnormal not to have problems.
On the second day of hospitalization, his fever was so high that his consciousness came and went, and everything before his eyes looked blurry and hazy. It was the first time in Seonwoo’s life that he’d been this sick from just a cold.
His health, which had degraded by one level after the accident, showed no signs of recovering easily. Even now, the feeling of his body drooping like a waterlogged blanket wouldn’t become familiar at all.
His first meal after the fever broke was plain white porridge with no ingredients. Gradually recovering like that, today was his first regular meal. The menu was abalone porridge. Just looking at the ingredients and appearance, it was clearly different from any abalone porridge Seonwoo had eaten before.
But Seonwoo just stared at it without even touching the spoon.
“Why. Do you have no appetite?”
Seonwoo turned his head toward where the voice came from. Having been sick for a few days, he’d lost weight so quickly that his jawline protruded even when he bit down on his teeth with just a little force. Seonwoo looked at the Vice Director in front of him with a gaunt complexion.
There had been clattering sounds from over there, and then the Vice Director brought a steaming mug. He placed it next to the bowl containing the abalone porridge. A sweet smell wafted over. Golden-colored pear juice rippled.
