“Don’t you think we don’t look alike either, seonsaengnim?”
ლ
The various imaging rooms including CT were gathered in a corner a little away from the first-floor lobby, so it was quiet. The sofa where Seonwoo was sitting was in a place where the outpatient elevator was directly visible.
Since it was also on the path to the imaging rooms, several people holding examination papers came and went. Even as they finished their scans and repeatedly returned to the lobby, Seonwoo didn’t budge from his spot.
He didn’t look around either, his gaze directed only at his right hand. Going upward, where the bandage was wrapped thinly, skin was exposed, and the faint traces of stitches sewn like rags could be seen.
“…”
When he pressed with his thumb, he could feel the sutures that hadn’t fully dissolved. Seonwoo continued stroking the injured area, then brought his left hand together and kneaded his fingers. His fingertips were trembling minutely. He also moved the injured hand this way and that as if checking something, but soon gave up, as if it wouldn’t move as he intended.
On the wall of the sofa Seonwoo was leaning against was a round analog clock. The hour hand was pointing to 1 PM. It had been morning when he came down after completing the discharge procedures, so he’d been holding his position for well over two hours.
At some point, the elevator number that had been staying in one place gradually came down to the first floor. When the door opened, the vice director was visible. He was in his usual attire with just the coat removed.
The vice director stood in place pressing the door open button while gesturing with his hand. Even seeing this, Seonwoo moved sluggishly. And as soon as he got on the elevator, he suddenly pressed the 10th floor.
“I want to see his face just one more time before I go.”
“It’s not visiting hours right now, so that won’t be possible. Can’t you just see him when you come for your outpatient appointment?”
Before Seonwoo’s answer could even come back, the vice director pressed the button again. The light on the 10th floor button went out and the elevator descended with a mechanical voice.
Seonwoo felt the floating sensation in his body while staring intently at the vice director’s face. Suddenly, the nurse’s reaction came to mind. The troubled expression of someone who couldn’t even say in empty words that they looked alike.
The elevator stopped at basement level 2. The place the vice director headed toward was a large black sedan right in front of the entrance. When he brought his hand to the handle, the door opened automatically.
Seonwoo recalled a memory of when a classmate had once shown him a video on their phone, saying it was so cool. He even remembered them reading out comments in an excited voice saying this kind of car was very expensive, the kind only company presidents ride.
Befitting the position of vice director at a university hospital, he seemed to have a lot of money. There were no cars parked on either side, and seeing how it was in a position visible as soon as you got off the elevator, it seemed to be a dedicated spot.
“Get in the front.”
When he opened the passenger door, there was a small paper bag on the seat.
“It’ll be hard to contact you without a phone, so I’m giving you this. Don’t feel burdened.”
As he sat down and took out the box, he could see a photo of the latest model on the surface. Next to it was a white envelope with the hospital logo drawn on it.
“Use that for transportation. You’ll be coming and going to the hospital often from now on.”
Seonwoo silently took out the phone. The device that was already powered on had a carrier logo drawn on the top bar as well. Other than that, everything was the default background with no separately installed apps.
Entering the contacts, there was an unfamiliar number. No name was written, only saved as numbers. It was naturally a number he was seeing for the first time. Seonwoo, who pressed the edit button, asked.
“What should I call you from now on?”
“Wouldn’t it be awkward to suddenly call me samchon? You can keep calling me Ahjussi.”
Ahjussi (아저씨) – Uncle/Mister
Samchon (삼촌) – Uncle
Seonsaengnim (선생님) – Teacher/Doctor/Professional (polite)
Saem (쌤) – Casual for “seonsaengnim” (teacher/professional)
“Then I’ll do that.”
The empty name field was filled with the new word ‘Ahjussi.’ In the meantime, the car that had exited the parking lot merged onto the road. It was the first time in two months he was seeing the outside scenery before his eyes.
“Do the clothes fit well?”
“They’re a bit big, but it’s fine.”
“That’s good.”
The clothes he changed into upon discharge were brought by the Vice Director. They were bigger than his usual size, but not unwearable. The roomy training pants also posed no problem when he crossed the elastic waistband several times to cinch his waist.
As he leaned his body against the passenger seat, the thick fleece lining wrapped around his skin. From the loose-fitting sweatshirt came a faint fabric softener scent mixed with body odor. These were clothes that felt like someone had worn them before, not new ones.
However, neither the style nor this smell seemed to suit the Vice Director. Then whose were they?
“You have an outpatient appointment next week, right? Ahjussi already talked to your attending physician, so just go and give them your name.”
“……”
“Are you listening?”
The car that had reduced its speed came to a smooth stop. Looking ahead, it was a red light.
“Yes.”
“When you arrive, take your medicine first.”
The Vice Director glanced sideways to point at the medicine bag. The medicine bag Seonwoo held was thick on both sides. It was a lot for a week’s worth. The medicine to prevent inflammation at the wound site was only a portion of it, and the rest were all psychiatric prescriptions.
While driving, the Vice Director was taciturn. Seonwoo also didn’t bother making conversation. The chatter flowing from the radio filled the silence. Commentary worrying about the continuing late winter cold continued.
“Come to think of it, I couldn’t tell Seonwoo beforehand.”
It was around the time they exited the main road and the surroundings became quieter. Seonwoo, who had been looking out the window, turned his head. The brake lights of the car ahead were coloring the Vice Director’s face red.
“When you get home, Ahjussi’s son will be there.”
“……”
“He’s the same age as Seonwoo, so I hope you’ll get along well.”
He revealed the important fact that there was one more family member only just before arriving home. Since he had told him to come live in his house a month ago, he had clearly hidden this intentionally. However, Seonwoo answered calmly.
“Then he’s my cousin.”
“Haha.”
A low laugh was heard for a moment. It wasn’t something that came naturally from the flow of conversation, but rather like being unable to hold back a bursting sneeze—the Vice Director laughed while making a slight expression, then immediately smiled politely.
“It would be even better if you got along like real brothers.”
It was a somewhat difficult request for Seonwoo, who had lived as an only child. But the Vice Director seemed unconcerned with whatever Seonwoo might answer. He said nothing more about Seonwoo’s silent response, then suddenly opened his mouth.
“Seonmin really didn’t tell you anything.”
“……”
“That makes sense. The family has lived without even seeing each other’s faces until now. Ahjussi didn’t even know he had a grown son like Seonwoo.”
The word ‘family’ came out of that mouth once again. Seonwoo had thought from the first time he heard those words—there was one error in them.
The Vice Director’s name was Baek Jinseok. And his mother’s name was Song Seonmin. The two had different surnames. The Vice Director called them family without any explanation about that.
There was plenty of room to question the flimsy claim that was only verbal. Why would a maternal relative have a different surname from his mother? Were the two siblings who were separated as children or something? Questions like that.
But Seonwoo didn’t ask. He wasn’t in a position to do so.
From now on, Seonwoo would be staying as a freeloader at the Vice Director’s house he was about to arrive at. The period would be until his mother, who was lying in the ICU in a coma, woke up, so it was essentially an indefinite wait.
The journey didn’t take long. The place they arrived at after about a 10-minute drive was a two-story detached house. When they entered the automatically opened garage, there was one more obviously expensive-looking vehicle.
To the left of the two cars parked side by side was a glass entrance door. The Vice Director, who had taken out his phone, unlocked the door lock while sending a text somewhere. Soon, a notification sound came from inside the paper bag Seonwoo was holding.
