Mother's Life 2
Thanks to the warm dinner, Joo-shin soon fell into a sleep so deep he wouldn't have stirred even if someone flipped him over. He sometimes dozed off at Jong-hyuk's house, but never as soundly as he did at home. Because it was home, he could let go of all his tension and drift off completely.
As he tucked the now-quite-heavy Joo-shin under the blanket, Joo-in glanced at their mother's back while she washed the evening dishes.
What kind of girl was Mother back then? Was she like Jong-hyuk's mom, full of dreams and burning with a thirst for knowledge?
He tried imagining her from an era he'd never witnessed.
Maybe I've consciously avoided thinking about the fact that Mother even had a childhood.
Jong-hyuk didn't downplay the significance of his mother's university degree and her passing the public administration exam—not that he could, really. Wasn't it because he and Jong-hyuk were their mothers' sons?
Mother...
"Aigoo, what's gotten into you today?"
He rubbed his mother's back as if puzzled, saying casually, "Just... you must've had a tough day out there again."
"I'm fine. Seeing your faces, you and Joo-shin's, gives me all the energy I need."
He buried the words he couldn't bring himself to say deep in his chest. As that heavy, suffocating weight in his heart pressed down, he plunged into deep sleep.
As if waiting for him, a hazy mist swirled around, and soon he stood before the shabby yet unapproachable hut where Dae-baek-gong resided.
Dae-baek-gong...
"Greetings, young friend."
"I... But how today...? I didn't report anything this time, and nothing particularly unusual happened."
"Heh heh. Do you recall what I said? That I act as the intermediary, ensuring the flow of human energy doesn't stagnate, sending it smoothly to the earth and sky?"
"Yes..."
"Yet the flow is obstructed far more often. It's much like the fate of mortals, who endlessly yearn for balance and harmony yet never quite attain it. Thus, discrimination and conflict are an inescapable destiny for humanity. But they can't be all there is, either."
"Wh-what do you mean...?"
"Simply put: if there's discrimination and strife, there must also be cooperation and inclusion for the flow to smooth out."
"Ah... So it shouldn't tip entirely to one side?"
"Precisely. You may recall my mention of heaven, earth, and man. When the harmonious energy of the earth is disrupted, it affects even the energy of heaven, and that ill influence returns to humanity. Yet the very humans who shatter that harmony are the ones who restore it—truly, the ways of heaven are profound and mysterious."
"Pardon?"
"No need to overthink it. By pointing out what others overlooked, you've brought great change to one person—and one family."
"That was just... I only tried doing what anyone sensible would."
"And how much time was required to forge that 'common sense' of yours?"
"Well..."
Excluding his current school days, in his pre-regression life, he'd spent decades in society, building relationships, forming impressions, witnessing countless shifts...
"So... did my actions today trigger a Singularity?"
"Indeed. In a world rife with discrimination and conflict, you've kindled a faint light toward mutual prosperity. When the flow tilts so far, you've created a small countercurrent to right it."
"Me?"
"From your perspective, it may seem trivial. But like the flutter of a butterfly's wings, one person's consideration can alter a life. The will of heaven is profound indeed."
"You say my actions generated a Singularity... so, does showing consideration to women and sharing rights with them bring good fortune?"
"Young friend... if that's your mindset, you'll struggle to claim the rewards you seek henceforth."
"Pardon?"
"To blindly elevate women against gender discrimination is to discriminate against men in turn. That's wrong as well. And dividing people solely into men and women discriminates against those confused about their identity—that, too, is wrong."
"..."
"Why tell me this...?"
"Yes... you may find it unwelcome or bothersome. But if you wish to reap your rewards, you must understand."
"......"
"What reward do I receive this time?"
Dae-baek-gong imparted the number to him—not by speaking it aloud, but implanting it into his mind like seeds taking root amid drifting thoughts.
011-×××-××××
Numbers again... lottery numbers?
There were far more digits than a lottery ticket warranted, so he peered closer.
011-×××-××××? That's a phone number!
When he looked up to ask, he saw the familiar ceiling of his own home.
"A phone number?"
Mother had already left for work; the bedding was neatly put away, and a note sat on the table.
You looked tired, so I didn't wake you. Joo-shin loves going to the library, so I'll drop him off on my way to work today. Breakfast side dishes are in the fridge—take them out and eat. Have fun with your friends and come home whenever you're ready.
She must have known he always took Joo-shin to meet Jong-hyuk and Kyung-soo on weekends, so she'd made the extra effort to drop him at the library before heading to her even busier weekend shift at the mart. It tugged at his heart, knowing she'd pushed herself, but his eyes were drawn first to the phone number Dae-baek-gong had given him.
Beep, beep, beep. As he dialed each digit, tension coiled in his chest.
Whose number is this? And why as a reward?
"Hello, this is Cheon O-roe's cellphone. The patient isn't in a condition to take calls right now. If you have a message, please leave it."
"Uh... which hospital is this?"
"This is Dun-bang Se-woon University Hospital."
"Is visiting allowed on Sundays?"
"Morning hours are over, but if you register before 1 p.m. for afternoon visiting, you can get full details."
"Got it. Thank you."
His hands trembled uncontrollably; he clasped his right with his left to steady them and sank into a chair.
Grandfather is sick?
Does Mother know?
He steadied his swirling thoughts and hurried toward the hospital address he'd learned.
Better to check visiting rules first than miss the chance entirely; he could worry later.
He'd never even heard of his grandfather pre-regression... Why was this Dae-baek-gong's reward? He had no connection to the man.
When relatives came up, Mother's face... Could this be a chance to ease the deep-seated resentment she still carried?
He felt suffocated at the thought of seeking out a total stranger from a family that had shunned him—yet here he was, heading to the hospital without hesitation.
Pacing anxiously at the hospital desk, a security guard approached, mistaking his nerves for suspicion.
Admitting his odd behavior might seem shady, he explained he didn't know how to register for visiting since his grandfather was admitted.
The guard took pity and, before Joo-in could protest, escorted him right to the room door.
He couldn't bring himself to open it. Beyond, the faint hum of medical equipment droned on.
Staring blankly at the door, it suddenly slid open with a shrrk.
"Oh?"
The nurse emerging startled, then smiled warmly.
"Are you the one who just called?"
"Y-yes..."
"Here to see Grandpa? What a good kid, coming on a weekend. If you've registered, go on in."
Unable to close the door she'd opened, he stepped inside with trepidation.
The vague childhood memories—of loud crashes and Mother's anguished sobs filling his maternal grandparents' home—dissolved in the sterile scent of disinfectant. Reality held only a frail elder, eyes closed, reliant on a respirator, defeated by time; and himself, soon a high schooler.
"Ah..."
Had regression not freed him from that painful rejection of his youth?
Reacting to his voice, the old man opened his eyes and laboriously extended a hand.
His mouth moved, but the respirator garbled the words.
"Ah... ahh... a..."
Suddenly, the scene shifted like a screen flip. His breath grew ragged, his head throbbed with unfamiliar pain and dizzying vertigo.
The image, like a black-and-white photo, accelerated through scenes.
It halted before roaring flames—or so he thought—then thick smoke billowed forth.
Wrinkle-framed eyes streamed with tears. The scent of blood clung to her, weathered by ordeals.
Yet her grasping hand was strong and warm.
A storm from deep within froze him like stone.
The middle-aged woman, etched with time's lines in every crease, gripped the hand of a young boy and spoke—then he understood.
Grandfather's memory? Then this boy is Grandfather?
Amid the chaos, he clung to Grandfather's hand, suppressing the alien sensation, focusing intently to not miss a moment of the vision.