FBF chapter 20 part 3

“Hospital.”

– Why the hospital?

“For my grandfather’s regular check-up.”

– Already? Wait, let me check the calendar.

“…Why the calendar?”

“Why else, you idiot? If I don’t write it down, I forget. I think I wrote down the last check-up date. Since today is December 10… ah, right. Last time was in June. The day after your exam.”

I could hear the sound of paper flipping as someone was presumably turning the pages of the calendar. I listened to Lee Jihoon flipping the calendar back to December from June while I tapped the floor with the tips of my shoes. Suddenly, I became curious. I wondered what kind of calendar Jihoon was using there. Was it the long horizontal type we used in high school, or a regular desk calendar that many people use? I also wondered where he kept it.

It had already been two years since Jihoon left for the United States. It had been about that long since I last saw his face. After we met, we had been apart for the longest time. Since I couldn’t see him directly, I didn’t know what kind of calendar he used, let alone how he was living. Jihoon was the type to share updates about his life openly, but he never told me what I truly wanted to know.

Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Things like whether he was going through tough times there, or why his voice always sounded tired no matter what time zone we were in. I found myself hesitating, thinking I could understand his intentions behind not sharing unless he chose to.

– So…

“…What?”

– Is your grandfather okay?

Unlike me, Jihoon always asked questions too easily. He would ask if my grandfather was okay, or if I was having a tough time. It was as if he felt he needed to ask directly to prevent me from hiding anything.

“…It’s just… the same.”

I thought he was amazing for asking and asking again, even after hearing my lackluster responses. And despite knowing that about him, I still wanted to call—perhaps that interest of his was something I was secretly grateful for.

“Why are you still awake? It’s late.”

It wasn’t difficult to express my gratitude, but when the feelings I had for Jihoon seeped into my words, they felt like a deception. So, instead of saying thank you, I changed the subject. Jihoon easily let my mood after the hospital visit slide by.

– Hyung is studying at night while working.

Jihoon, who imitated a slow and pretentious tone, suddenly laughed at the unexpected moment. He hadn’t said anything in response but seemed to feel awkward and added an explanation.

– I find it funny that I’m actually sitting at my desk at this time for the first time this week. And now I’m pretending to study.

“What’s funny about that? It’s not your fault you have a part-time job.”

– Still.

“…….”

– Sometimes I get confused about whether I’m working to study or studying to work.

The self-deprecating laughter vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Just as I found it difficult to say thank you, Jihoon couldn’t admit he was struggling either. It felt like a disaster would befall him the moment he uttered those words. He quickly changed the subject again.

– I heard your enlistment date has come out.

“…How did you find out?”

– I spoke to someone who cares more about you than you do about yourself yesterday.

“Ah…”

– In February, right?

“Yeah.”

– Are you mentally prepared for it?

“What’s so special about the army that everyone goes?”

– True. That crybaby came back fine from it, after all.

This was the second time we had talked about Kang Youngsoo, but it struck me as funny that he hadn’t been called by his name both times. Jihoon managed to hear the sound of the wind escaping my lips and laughed along. Once we found a safe topic, we both laughed comfortably. The moment the laughter began to fade, Jihoon’s voice turned serious.

– Sorry I can’t go with you to the training camp.

“…….”

– I had thought about matching the date and even checked the flights, but unfortunately, that day is my flight test.

The unexpected apology caught me off guard for a moment.

I finally realized. Our life timelines would continue to misalign like this. It had been two years since I saw Jihoon, and it would likely be more for years to come. There was a good chance that when Jihoon got his certificates and returned to Korea, I would be in the army. Even if I calculated a break to see him, it wouldn’t be less than a year.

During high school, when I denied my feelings dozens of times every day, I would imagine this situation whenever I was bored. I figured that once I got into college, it wouldn’t be hard to stop liking Jihoon since I wouldn’t see him as often.

After two years without seeing his face, picturing Jihoon’s expression as he said these words made me feel hopeless. This wasn’t a matter of seeing faces; it was something entirely different.

Even if the odds of me reaching out to Jihoon were only 3%, it didn’t matter. Like my grandfather today, I accepted the shocking diagnosis calmly. A strange courage rose within me, not slowly but all at once.

“Maybe I should go see you?”

It was an impulsive suggestion. Despite having thought about it countless times, it was something I had never dared to voice.

– …What?

It was strange. Normally, I would have trembled at Jihoon’s surprised voice, as if he found it hard to believe. But now, instead, I felt a firm resolution solidifying within me.

I felt compelled to go to New York. Seeing Jihoon seemed like it would clear everything up, as if the sky had opened up after the rain.

I consistently thought that it was nonsense while secretly hoping for something nonsensical to happen. The moment that plan materialized, I would at least get to see Jihoon.

“I’ll go to New York.”

– ……

“If you’re okay with it.”

– I’m definitely fine. It’s just… hey, are you serious? You’re not joking, right?

Jihoon asked multiple times, sounding more shocked than he usually would. It was as if he was taken aback because he was more accustomed to shocking others than being shocked himself. Even though Youngsoo mentioned wanting to visit New York while Jihoon was there, I had never joked about it, even once. I understood why Jihoon was confused.

However, I didn’t feel like retracting what I said. It was the first time I had said it—though I had thought it over—yet I was able to speak fluently as if I had a predetermined plan all along and had just now decided to follow through.

“I’ll book my flight and contact you. Let’s discuss the details then.”

Jihoon seemed to be in disbelief since my sudden proposal left him a bit dazed. I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

Alright. Let’s go to New York first. Just seeing Jihoon should be enough. After that, I’ll think about things.

I saw a taxi coming from a distance. As I was leaving the phone booth, I spotted a pamphlet that had fallen onto the sidewalk. It seemed I had dropped it while running earlier. I hesitated for a moment but eventually picked it up. As soon as I got into the taxi, I immediately started looking through the pamphlet, pressing it flat with my thumb and forefinger, trying to smooth out the wrinkled paper that had gotten wet from the rain.

* * *

The date for my departure to New York was set for a week later. It was true that I found the fastest route, but it was still a hastily decided date. I had no other options anyway. It was the end of the year, and airlines didn’t leave slots open for someone who would only decide on a flight a week in advance for a 14-hour journey. The canceled ticket I found after refreshing the screen hundreds of times felt like a miracle. Jihoon said it was rather fortunate. The wealthy kid he was tutoring for math was also going on a Christmas trip that week, and he thought he could also change his part-time work schedule.

Even after my grandfather heard that I was traveling, he remained silent. Since the check-up, we hadn’t spoken to each other about anything other than what was necessary. Not even about the surgery. We both seemed unwilling to bend our opinions. In moments when our stubbornness suffocated each other like parallel lines, this trip that allowed for a temporary escape felt oddly timely. Whatever it might be, it was better than being angry at my grandfather.

Strangely enough, it was Jihoon’s father who got busy after hearing about my trip. The closer the departure date approached, the more often he dropped by our house, always loaded with things. He brought things like pre-cooked rice and seaweed, alongside long-shelf-life instant meals. This was his solution after hearing Jihoon didn’t even have a refrigerator in his apartment. Knowing that I intentionally bought a large suitcase to accommodate his offerings, I realized half of it was already full. The fact didn’t escape the older man before it did me, and he appeared disproportionately sheepish today.

“Seon-uk, you might want to take this too. Even if it’s not frequent, if you get sick even just once, it’s quite troubling… I only packed a bit, but if there’s no space, can’t you at least take this? It’s medicine for sore throats. It’s made from bellflower, and it’s effective, you just need to take a little bit. When I heard your voice on the phone last time, it just kept bothering me.”

Today, the uncle brought a package of medicine. It seemed he had come with just the medicine rather than any boxes at all, as the bag looked like it would burst. Sticking out of the bag were labels scribbled with instructions on when to take the medications. It would probably appear like a bunch of ambiguous capsules to an X-ray scanner at security. I thought it might become problematic, but for now, I accepted it. At first, he had said I only needed to take just one, but after confirming that I shoved the medicine package into the things I was carrying, the uncle finally relaxed his anxious expression. It seemed he couldn’t tear himself away from the spot beside me as I organized my suitcase.

“I could have put a bit more of the precooked rice in there…”

He mumbled, looking regretful as he peered into the suitcase. We shared the same concern for Jihoon. It was just that words could only express that concern so well.

One day, while working on a group project to investigate the prices of various countries, Kang Youngsoo had called me to express his worries about Jihoon.

“Do you know how insane the cost of living in New York is? Especially rent is no joke; many employees are camping out in tents. Studying abroad essentially costs a fortune, and I wonder if Jihoon is stubborn enough to hold it in rather than telling his uncle. I heard from his mom that his uncle is also starting to worry subtly.”

“…Did he really say that?”

“Yeah. With baseball and construction jobs, he’s been quitting all the time because he might get used to it as a habit. I didn’t think he would ask for help to this extent. Even when his uncle hinted at lending a hand, he kept saying it was fine. That he could manage. But he’s got to be careful when he scolds him since he’s a tough nut.”

Hesitating, I called out to him. I wanted to reassure him, as if waiting for my voice.

“I’ll go see how Jihoon is doing.”

“……”

“I’ll make sure to deliver the things you gave me, so don’t worry too much.”

The uncle looked at me briefly before breaking into a gentle smile. His tanned face from rushing to the store right after finishing work reflected a strong affection that Jihoon had surely inherited.

“Seon-uk, if it weren’t for you, we would have really been in trouble. When I thought about going, your dad scoffed at what I could do, but now that you’re going, he seems to be happy about it.”

When we first met, I used to think the uncle and Jihoon had nothing in common, but the more I saw them, the more I realized Jihoon resembled him quite a bit. Especially this openness in expressing affection without hesitance, even from this close distance.

As I chewed on the strange guilt and longing I felt each time, I awkwardly smiled and lowered my gaze.

“Seon-uk.”

When the uncle pulled something out of his pocket, I froze in surprise. As if knowing I would react this way, he cleverly tucked the envelope not into my hands but inside my suitcase. Just like I had shoved the medication between the precooked rice and instant curry earlier.

“I slipped a little pocket money in there. It’s just a tiny bit, so don’t feel burdened.”

“Ah, no. I have my own money. Jihoon wouldn’t like it if he knew you were giving this to me instead.”

“What does Jihoon have to do with it? I want to give you pocket money, plain and simple.”

“…….”

“Don’t worry about money; just go and buy some tasty things, okay? And…”

The uncle stopped speaking as he ended up closing half of my suitcase to keep me from pulling out the envelope.

“I’ll persuade your grandfather while you’re gone, so don’t let worry about him weigh down your mind.”

I felt like I could cry when he spoke as if he understood everything in my heart. I could only nod my head repeatedly, unable to meet his eyes, fully aware that this moment wouldn’t come again.

The uncle patted my shoulder and stood up, saying he would pick me up at the right time tomorrow morning. Remembering how he promised to take me to the airport in the same manner as he handed me the envelope, I found myself unable to resist nodding again.

When I looked around the room one last time to see if I had forgotten anything, the door swung open. My grandfather, standing in the doorway, spoke without looking at me.

“Come out for a moment.”

As I briefly turned my eyes to his retreating back, I closed the drawer I had been staring at and stepped into the living room. My grandfather was already sitting at a modestly prepared alcohol table in the middle of the living room. A simple side dish and a bottle of rice wine sat on the two-person table. Before I could even catch myself, pent-up words poured out in frustration.

“But the hospital definitely said not to drink…”

“I’m not the one drinking.”

“…….”

“Sit.”

Seeing me standing like a nail, my grandfather opened his mouth once more. Even as he ordered me to sit, I couldn’t rebel further, so I bent my legs and sat down. It was the first time I faced my grandfather at this table. Even when I used to enjoy drinks before surgery, my grandfather never asked me to drink with him.

“…….”

“…….”

We silently sat at the table, not touching the prepared meal. The one who first moved was my grandfather. After he opened the lid of the rice wine, he poured it into the glass placed before me. A proof that the set was prepared just for me; there was only one glass. Oddly enough, that realization eased my anger a bit. It seemed that my grandfather hadn’t completely given up.

I quietly looked at the glass that my grandfather filled and eventually lifted it. The alcohol was potent enough to make the sensation of it sliding down my throat vivid. The warmth of intoxication came on quickly. Fortunately, it wasn’t to the point of dizziness. Two glasses, three glasses… I emptied my glass in quick succession as my grandfather continuously filled it. It was only when I could no longer raise the filled glass that he finally stopped pouring.

The heavy silence was shattered by my grandfather.

“Your grandmother endured great suffering for a long time.”

My grandfather’s words made him seem incredibly small. For the first time, I realized he was an elderly man, completely exhausted by the weariness of life.

This was the first time my grandfather spoke about my grandmother. Even though her story would occasionally slip out in conversations at the community center, sometimes from Youngsoo’s mother, or occasionally out of Jihoon’s father, my grandfather never spoke of her.

It was clear my grandfather looked pained as he broke his self-imposed taboo. The wrinkles on his forehead deepened, and his gaunt cheeks appeared even more sunken.

“He would run away hating the burden of caring for her, never once blaming your father, and would habitually say he didn’t want to be a hassle. Every day… every day until the day she died.”

“……”

“I lived all my life not understanding your father’s escape or that someone would consider it okay.”

My grandfather was clearly trying to say something difficult. The mere act of shrouding up memories he had carefully avoided for so long indicated as much. Although I wanted to avoid his gaze, I couldn’t. I knew this moment would not come again once it passed.

“Now… I think I understand. Seeing you.”

My grandfather struck a blow to the vague apprehension I desperately wanted to be wrong. As he spoke what I feared most, I couldn’t help but realize the start of the story would be about my grandmother. I might have anticipated at least that part, but I could feel his resolve did not change so easily.

Within the finite timeline of life, our conversation spun in circles. My grandfather was trying to persuade me for the very first time.

“…Grandfather.”

“I didn’t bring you here just to take care of my illness.”

“I never thought that way either.”

“……”

“This isn’t a kind of sickness that requires care for a lifetime. It’s just a benign tumor, Grandfather.”

“……”

“This is the last time. If I can just get through this surgery well, I won’t pressure you again. Just this once.”

“…If it isn’t the last time.”

“……”

“Are you going to keep stumbling around by my side every time it happens? Abandoning your own life and moping around in this countryside?”

My grandfather wore the shocked expression of seeing me return home after my first semester of college without completing it. Every semester since then, he had been waiting for this day each time I spent my vacation here and hadn’t once left home. This was only bearable until this moment arrived.

“I’ve lived long enough anyway.”

“…Please don’t say that.”

“It’s better than extending my lifespan at the cost of everyone else’s life…”

“Grandfather!”

Finally, with no satisfaction from holding back, I shouted. The words about dying that came out of my grandfather’s mouth felt like a sharp stone getting lodged in my heart. I raised my voice and blocked my grandfather’s mouth, preventing him from saying more, as if I couldn’t believe what I just did. Despite my palm feeling the bluntness of my fingernails pressing into it, I couldn’t believe that even at this moment, my grandfather had a quiet time bomb of a tumor in his head, and that I had to fight against his desire to leave it alone.

I had no weapons to fight against him. I felt like a small child whose only means of expressing desire was through crying.

“Then… what about me?”

My vision gradually blurred. Whether it was because of the heat from the alcohol or the feelings I had been stifling bursting forth, ancient words began to spill out of me.

“If you leave, I will be all alone.”

“…….”

“When you suffer, it doesn’t eat away at me; it’s your leaving that will kill me. Don’t you understand?”

My grandfather’s eyes trembled. Seeing it, I felt a glimmer of hope, and I dragged my knees forward, earnestly pleading while stubbornly following him as he tried not to look at me.

“If you really hate me being stuck here, I promise I won’t just stay here. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll manage my own life well, so you won’t have to worry. So please….”

With hands that barely had the strength to shove him away, I bowed my head. Tears began to fall onto the wooden floor beneath me. I put all my breath into expressing my words. Shaking my head, I struggled to deny my grandfather’s words stubbornly.

“Please don’t say that. I… never once thought you were a burden; I was always afraid of being one to you.”

“…….”

“Please don’t talk about leaving as if it’s any time soon. Please…”

The frail body of the elderly man felt hard and devoid of flesh. I couldn’t even muster the courage to lean my forehead on his shoulder, like that of a withering trunk; instead, I continued to clench my grandfather’s arm as I whispered again and again.

I’m not ready. I… I’m still not ready. Don’t go…

The teacher at the guardians’ counseling center mentioned that even considering the fact I was a caregiver, my stress levels were relatively high. It was important to express myself, drawing circles around the items labeled self-control and expressiveness, emphasizing that merely holding on wasn’t the answer. Vaguely recalling someone who came to mind in times of hardship, he encouraged me multiple times to share even the smallest things with that person. It seemed he had sensed that I wouldn’t be the type to do so, and finally told me to at least mutter something to myself. He advised me to spill everything out and listen to it later after some time passed. He urged me to pay attention to the whispers of my heart to hear what emotions I was tolerating.

I found myself thinking of those words while sitting alone in the dim room for no particular reason. I had drunk alcohol, packed for my trip to see Jihoon, and after that, I stumbled upon traces of my own reluctance.

The white MP3 that wasn’t delivered to its owner or used by the buyer remained without even a battery draining. I sat against the wardrobe at an angle, mindlessly spinning the round wheel of the MP3. Inside the suitcase next to my desk rested another MP3, one that looked the same but showed signs of use. I had offered to bring it to Jihoon first.