Jong-hyuk's Parents' Accident
'To do that, I have to stop the accident that happens to Jong-hyuk's parents first.'
I hadn't heard the exact details of the accident from Jong-hyuk himself. He wasn't the type to casually talk about such a heartbreaking event, and while we were classmates—in a good light—we were barely more than acquaintances to each other. So all I knew was that his parents had a car accident right before he started high school. I didn't know the precise timing or the circumstances.
But I did know that, in an era when hardly anyone owned a car yet, Jong-hyuk's father had one for his commute.
A car accident... maybe a major single-vehicle crash? But Jong-hyuk's dad doesn't seem like the type to speed.
It must have been a massive wreck since his parents died on the spot, but Jong-hyuk wasn't hurt. That meant there had to be a reason they went out without taking him along. His father, maybe, but his mother wouldn't leave Jong-hyuk home alone. What could it have been?
After returning from the school store, I was so lost in thoughts about the accident that I didn't even notice Jong-hyuk poking me and saying it was lunchtime.
When I snapped out of it, the three of us—me, Jong-hyuk, and Kyung-soo—had our desks pushed together, and our lunchboxes out.
I opened the one Mother had prepared early that morning despite her grueling schedule. Cold rice, kimchi clumped to one side, and pickled radish greeted me.
Back then, I was so soft-hearted—embarrassed by the meager cold side dishes, I'd resent her for it. But thinking of her now, regretting she couldn't pack better sides from the start, serving us heaps of rice while reheating the leftover crusts with water in secret to fill her own hungry stomach... it felt like a feast fit for kings.
Kyung-soo's lunchbox was similar to mine, sparking a strange camaraderie. Then, between our sad boxes, Jong-hyuk pulled out steaming rice, stew, and side dish containers from his insulated one.
He slid one toward the center of the desk. "Mom's portions are huge. Let's share."
Kyung-soo grabbed some casually, like it was routine. "What're you doing? Not eating? Lunchtime's almost over. Why'd you sleep so much?"
"Uh... yeah. I was tired last night, tossed and turned."
"No wonder, after that mess yesterday."
"Mess? What mess?"
Jong-hyuk glanced at me, then scolded Kyung-soo instead. "Just eat your rice."
I didn't know what they thought of me, but I'd already decided they were my friends, so I could speak freely.
"On the day of my dad's funeral, the lawyer's clerk showed up causing a fuss, demanding a settlement."
"Uh... what?"
Kyung-soo looked flustered—he hadn't known why I'd missed school for days. Jong-hyuk stared at me blankly, mid-bite, not expecting me to drop it so casually over lunch.
"Thanks to your dad, Jong-hyuk, it wrapped up fine. And... thanks. I really wanted to say that but didn't know how."
Kyung-soo gulped water from his bottle, voice still shaky. "Yeah... I get not knowing how to say it. Nearly choked to death on my rice."
We all burst out laughing—me and Jong-hyuk too. The kind that wiped away whatever we'd been about to say.
"You see these chills? High schoolers-to-be thanking each other? Thought I was turning into chicken for a sec."
"Kekeke."
"Hahaha!"
We demolished our lunches in no time and headed to the school field, sprawling on a bench.
"Hey, no soccer today 'cause of you."
"All talk from a flatfoot like you."
"We win without you."
Kyung-soo glared as me and Jong-hyuk teased him in unison, then sighed dramatically. "Said you're starting 'day one' with Jong-hyuk today, and damn if my side ain't freezing."
Jong-hyuk flushed red, locked him in a headlock, and started yelling alien gibberish.
Those curses are gold. Kekeke.
For a brief moment, I felt something inside me shift—a pure, joyful laughter from childhood, endlessly fun and lighthearted.
On the walk home as the sun set, Kyung-soo had split off at the gate since his family had moved. Jong-hyuk and I strolled the alley together.
I peppered him with questions for any hint about his parents' accident, but it stayed everyday chatter.
"So your parents are home most of the time?"
"Yeah. But why keep asking about them?"
"Oh, was gonna drop by if they weren't."
"What? Our places are basically one house anyway."
"Still, first friend and all."
"You're a pro at cheesy lines."
"Me? Nah. Died regretting I never said 'em. Lifetime supply wasted."
"What kinda nonsense is that?"
"Kekeke. Stuff like that. You kids wouldn't get it."
"Hey, my birthday's before yours!"
Bickering down the alley, it felt shorter and warmer than the paths I'd walked in my past life, though it was the same street.
Almost home, an unexpected sight hit us.
"Isn't that your dad?"
"Oh, Uncle Must-Be-Rich is here today."
"Uncle? You have an uncle?"
"Me? Nah. That 'generous uncle' is Dad's old buddy. Guess Dad invested when he started his business. Dunno what investing means exactly, but he always gives me big pocket money when he visits."
"Your dad told you to call him uncle?"
"Nah, Dad hates it when I do."
"Then why?"
"Pocket money's good. Ever gotten a 10,000-won allowance?"
"10,000 won as pocket money?"
"Never felt short on cash, but just call him 'uncle' and boom—stacks."
Jong-hyuk's wallet bulged with cash way too much for a middle schooler.
"Hey, don't flash that. Could drag you into trouble. Bank it instead."
"Minors need parents for accounts. Hassle."
"Dangerous. That's a lot."
He smirked at my general nagging-not-nagging, then slung an arm over my shoulder. Key difference made it comical, but it was his first initiative, so I grinned through the awkwardness and walked on.
Wanted to probe more about this uncle, but his good mood made pushy questions feel wrong. I said goodbye and headed home.
On the way to our semi-basement, the uncle's foreign car caught my eye—rare on these roads.
Hard to even get imports now. Business must be booming.
Curious about the uncommon ride, I lingered. Then Jong-hyuk's gate opened—his father emerged shaking hands with a pot-bellied man in a navy suit.
I'd missed my chance to slip inside, rooted in place. The navy suit spotted me, scowled, and muttered a curse under his breath.
Sure, a kid near a fancy car might worry you, but cursing outright? Rude. But he knew Jong-hyuk's dad, so I pretended not to hear and turned to go.
Then darkness swallowed my vision. A chilling sneer filled the void, freezing me solid.
Jong-hyuk's "uncle" smirked, pointing and laughing gleefully at what looked like a crash victim, motionless.
The raw, dark malice hit me like a truck. I stood dazed, unable to move.
Who is that guy? Doesn't seem like someone Jong-hyuk's dad would hang with.
Next day was Saturday—school ended early. I rushed home. Jong-hyuk and Kyung-soo headed to the library, but I worried about Joo-shin alone, so I bailed first.
He'd spend days in our semi-basement glued to the TV—no one to watch him. Later I learned the old set often glitched to static; somehow, he ended up nearsighted despite no family glasses.
Felt responsible, so I'd drag him out for simple games after school.
Luckily, he loved it—time flew. In the twilight alley, watching him slam his pebble in pebble-tossing with all his might, I grinned mischievously.
Unlike my big frame from Dad, he was small—didn't eat well young. But now I saw he took after Dad in tenacity, something I'd missed for years.
"Hyung, one more round."
"That's 59 losses to me today already?"
"One more~"
"Fine. But after, we go home, wash up, prep dinner?"
"Prep dinner?"
"Mom works hard. Nice if it's ready, right?"
"I can boil ramen."
"Haha, not ramen. I'll make something. Kimchi stew?"
Twilight shadows stretched long with heavy footsteps.
Stranger? I blocked Joo-shin—then the face.
"Jong-hyuk?"
"Heard you skipped library for bro time?"
"He's alone a lot."
"Good brother. Overheard—kimchi stew tonight?"
"Planning to."
"Hello!"
Joo-shin bowed awkwardly from the gut; Jong-hyuk cracked up.
"Lucky he doesn't take after you."
"What?"
"Dunno? Don't ask. Uncle brought gift sets yesterday—tons of tuna and cans. Mom's overwhelmed. Grabbing some for your dinner."
I started to refuse, but Joo-shin's sparkling eyes at "tuna" won. "Thanks."
Sent him in first, entered Jong-hyuk's for the first time. The gift boxes piled excessively eased my burden a bit.
Parents out—empty living room. He stuffed a bag with cans, shoved it at me.
"Your folks out today?"
"Nah, due soon. Running late."
Not today, right? Their accident?
"Don't overthink. That uncle in the foreign car yesterday."
"Uncle Mun?"
"Eh? Same surname as your dad?"
"Yeah, but not related—just coincidence."
"Ah..."
"Why the uncle?"
Couldn't say he cursed at me, seems like bad news, watch out—or fix car talk.
"His foreign car looked cool, but beat-up. Parts expensive, hard to fix timely. Hope your folks' car isn't overdue."
"Why bring that up?"
I sensed his wariness—knew pushing more would seem weird. But if it saved his parents, screw looking odd.