On top of everything, his mother’s final plea — please take good care of your frail little sister — kept drifting through his mind, over and over again. Even Haneul, who had held himself together through everything, couldn’t stop the tears from flooding out.
He crumpled to the floor of the narrow living room as though his legs had given out. Swept up in the vague, terrifying fear that he might truly be left alone, the tears that spilled over simply wouldn’t stop.
“I really did try my best…… What am I supposed to do if Garam actually dies?”
The empty room, where no answer ever came, filled with the sound of Haneul crying his heart out.
How much time had passed. In the early hours of dawn, just as the first light was beginning to break, the tears gradually subsided and Haneul came back to himself — not wanting to so much as lift a finger. Even so, he forced his body upright, heavy as waterlogged wood, and headed out of the house as he always did to make the morning milk deliveries.
“Last one.”
If anything, Haneul found it easier when his body was moving — it kept the stray thoughts from creeping in. The result of pushing himself even harder than usual was that he finished the milk deliveries faster than he normally did.
Just as he finished the last delivery and was about to step into the elevator, one of the front doors cracked open a sliver — and a hand reached out, dangling a bag stuffed full of trash.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes?”
“Since you’re heading down anyway, throw this away for me.”
“……”
“Hello? This is heavy.”
“Ah, yes.”
A surge of emotion rose in Haneul’s throat, but he took the trash bag without a word. A difficult customer like that would inevitably file a complaint with the company, and Haneul would have to explain the situation and prove it wasn’t his fault. He just found the whole thing exhausting and tiresome.
“Hah……”
Haneul let out a sigh and stepped into the elevator. An elderly woman was already inside. There were occasionally people who would insist — unreasonably — that anyone who wasn’t a resident use the stairs. For no good reason, Haneul felt himself shrink a little and stared fixedly at the panel of buttons.
After dealing with the foul-smelling trash bag too, Haneul made his way back home to get ready for school, late as he was. He showered, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and only then checked his phone.
[1 Missed Call]
“Haa……”
It was from the hospital. It was almost certainly a call chasing him for the medical bills. Haneul paced back and forth around the apartment, fidgeting anxiously with his phone.
“If they have any conscience left, they’ll at least chip in something toward Garam’s hospital bills.”
After their parents had died suddenly in the traffic accident, relatives had descended on the house under the pretense of looking after the young siblings — only to quietly pick apart every last asset and divide it among themselves. And as if that weren’t enough, the shameless lot of them had, the very moment Haneul came of age, found him a small rented room and thrown the two siblings out.
“They’re still human beings.”
Even so, Haneul decided he would make one last appeal to whatever conscience they had left.
“Uncle, it’s Haneul.”
— Why are you calling at this hour of the morning?
“Have you been well?”
— Why are you calling, I said.
“……Garam is very sick right now.”
Haneul, rigid with tension at the irritated edge in his uncle’s voice, drew in a deep breath before bringing himself to say the reason for the call.
— So?
“……”
His uncle shot back, dismissive and terse, as though it were nothing. But Haneul held onto his patience and said it again.
“So…… Garam needs surgery money. Is there any way you could lend me some?”
— Lend you money? Use your rental deposit to pay for the surgery.
“The deposit is five million won and the monthly rent is four hundred thousand — how is that supposed to cover surgery costs?”
— Where would I have that kind of money?
“Uncle, there’s the house and the insurance money our parents left behind.”
— That barely amounted to anything…… That’s all been gone for ages. Don’t call me with this. What kind of pathetic little wretch are you?
All that came back to him was cold, cutting indifference — his uncle didn’t even wait to hear another word before ending the call. Haneul hadn’t even had a chance to push back.
“Haa……”
The call ended without anything to show for it, and all Haneul could manage was a hollow, bitter laugh. He stared into empty space for a moment, expression blank. Then the thought of his parents surfaced — and something inside him lurched and roiled, a fury rising like an earthquake tearing up from deep underground.
“I’m such an idiot.”
Haneul thought back to what had happened then. They had come to a young Haneul — who had no real understanding of how the world worked yet — with a stack of documents filled with complicated language, and made him press his fingerprint to them.
“Rotten bastards.”
Haneul swiped at the tears that kept welling up with the back of his hand and picked up the bag he’d flung by the front door. Then, in a voice low and pressed-down tight, he muttered to himself.
“Just wait until I make something of myself. I’ll make you spend the rest of your lives beating the ground in regret.”
That was when it happened. The colorful advertising flyer caught his eye through the open flap of his bag. Without quite realizing what he was doing, Haneul picked it up — and before he knew it, he was dialing the number. The ringtone sounded several times.
What am I doing?
Haneul startled as though waking from a bad dream and moved to hang up. But at that very moment, a voice came through from the other end of the line, and Haneul cautiously brought the phone back to his ear.
— Hello, Blue Labor Agency.
* * *
Haneul began picking up weekday shifts at the pub, on top of his usual weekend ones. The stray thoughts that kept surfacing made him drop the mop more than once.
Two hundred million won……
They had told him that if he applied for the Blue Cuckoo — the surrogacy service — and carried a child to term, he would receive two hundred million won. To be precise, one hundred million upfront, and the remaining one hundred million after the child was born.
“That kind of money would be more than enough for Garam’s hospital bills…… and I could move somewhere cleaner, not a semi-basement……”
Haneul muttered to himself as he scrubbed the floor of the hall with the mop. But then, snapping back to his senses, he shook his head hard and scolded himself out loud.
“What am I thinking?”
He was nearly done cleaning the hall when someone called out to him from behind.
“Yun Haneul.”
Haneul’s brow furrowed at the cheap pheromone scent drifting his way.
Does someone actually let their pheromones hang out this openly these days?
“Our Haneul’s here.”
The pub owner — who only ever showed up on weekends — grinned and closed the distance between them.
“Yes…… hello.”
Haneul gave an awkward little bow and readjusted his grip on the mop.
“An omega who still managed to get into Hanguk University. Quite the prodigy.”
“What does getting into Hanguk University have to do with being an omega?”
The owner casually draped an arm around Haneul’s shoulder and began kneading the soft inner skin of his arm with a slow, pressing touch. The instant it happened, a wave of revulsion swept through Haneul, and on pure instinct he shoved the owner away hard. But the man didn’t so much as budge, smiling in a way that made Haneul’s skin crawl.
“They say if the mother has a good head on her, the children will too. If our Haneul were to have a child……”
“Excuse me? What are you saying right now?”
Haneul wrenched himself free from the owner’s reach, his voice making no effort to hide the disgust in it. His brow, no doubt, had twisted into a visible scowl.
“Come on, why are you being so sensitive. Is there anything giving you trouble lately?”
“No.”
