Sad Frogs and Clinging Attachments
Seeing that sad frog meme made me feel down too. ……………
"Huh?"
"You drank a lot of beer. Cabs are expensive at this hour."
She wasn't wrong. I'd knocked back four cans of high-alcohol beer, and the buzz was hitting me pretty good. Not blackout drunk, though.
"Yeah, okay. Just give me a blanket. I'll crash on the sofa."
"The sofa?"
Han Sol tilted her head.
"My bed's big. Let's sleep together."
"……What?"
"We used to when I was little."
'No, that was when you were eight.'
Sleeping in the same bed with a grown daughter—who was dressed like that?
"That's a bit much."
"You don't want to?"
Han Sol's eyes narrowed into axe blades again. Just like the venomous glare her mom used to give me back in the day.
"You don't want to sleep with your one and only daughter? You hate me?"
"N-no, that's not—"
"Then let's sleep together."
She was dead set on it. Firm as a pumpkin at this point. From the vibe, her pout meter was at about 80%. If I actually said no, it'd probably shoot to 250%.
'Kids never really grow up, huh.'
"Fine, fine."
I caved again, as usual. A smile spread across Han Sol's face.
"Great. Brush your teeth and wash up before bed."
"Sigh, alright."
Man. "No parent ever beats their kid"—I'd felt that truth a dozen times today alone.
"Then I'll head to bed first, Dad."
"Okay."
I finished brushing and washing up, then lay down. Han Sol's bed was spacious and plush. Honestly, the bed was nice, but the alcohol probably helped. The moment my head hit the pillow, lights out.
I vaguely remember her pulling the covers over us and snuggling right up against me... but after that, nothing. I was out cold.
……………
The next morning.
An unfamiliar ceiling. ……Oh, right—this was my daughter's place. Must've slept like a rock from the booze; no dreams. Probably morning. I hadn't gone to bed that late, and I hadn't overdone it.
'Time to wash up.'
I headed to the bathroom. Stood in front of the mirror.
"Hm."
Something was off. Red marks. One the size of a coin by my neck, another near my collarbone. I touched them. Kinda swollen.
'Bug bites?'
I took off my shirt to check. Similar marks on my shoulder too. Three, four... quite a few.
"Damn. Mosquitoes this time of year?"
In this chilly weather? Mosquitoes surviving?
'……Oh, right.'
Han Sol cranks the heat like crazy. The living room was toasty last night too. If it's that warm all day, yeah, mosquitoes could still be kicking around.
"Ugh, mosquitoes are the worst. That's why I got out of the army."
Well, technically the old me did.
I washed my face and brushed my teeth, using a spare toothbrush from Han Sol's place.
……………
Breakfast was simple. Milk and bread. Egg mayo, jam. Nothing homemade. All store-bought.
'Blame Han Kang for this.'
He barely ate with Han Sol. Just left twenty thousand won on the table and headed to work—"Buy your own food." That's how her childhood and teens went. Until she moved out, every meal was takeout. Worst possible setup for learning to cook, and emotionally, he pretty much neglected her.
Considering all that, the fact she doesn't resent her dad means she turned out great.
'Be grateful for the meal. Later, when I get the chance, I'll teach her to cook.'
Once I can handle it myself, she'll eat home-cooked as much as possible. Constant takeout is no good. Sounds like some patriarchal boomer nag, sure.
But cooking skills? Huge plus in life. Not easy to make a living off it alone, but who hates a partner who cooks well?
"Thanks for the meal."
I finished up, did the dishes, and stood to leave.
"Well, Dad, I'll be—"
"Father."
"Yeah?"
"When are you coming next week?"
"……Huh?"
Next week? Out of nowhere?
"What do you mean?"
"It'd be nice to watch movies together every week. Like yesterday. Or I could come to your place."
'Hmm.'
Why's she like this? The idea itself isn't bad. Actually, pretty good. We're fresh off reconciling, so bonding like this often is smart. And honestly, I'd love to spend more time with Han Sol. The more I recall Han Kang's memories, the clearer it is he slacked on parenting.
Her childhood's gone forever, but I still want to make up for it. So weekly movies? Music to my ears.
But... the timing feels off. Yesterday, I told her about gym sessions with Lee Jin-ah every week, and right after, she dragged me here, watched a movie, and now this. Too perfectly timed for coincidence.
'Is she really feeling competitive with Jin-ah?'
Afraid I'll get stolen away, so she's hogging me first. That's how it looks. Han Sol might legit have an Electra complex.
'Heh. No way, sweetie.'
No pretty, sweet young thing like Jin-ah would fall for a 45-year-old like Han Kang. Premise is flawed from the start. From Dad's eyes, it's just cute daughterly attachment. Jealous like a kid scared Dad's attention might wander. Smiling at the conclusion.
"Weekdays are tough with work. I'll come on weekends."
"Weekends?"
"Yeah. Saturday or Sunday."
Han Sol's eyes lit up a bit.
"If you're coming on the weekend, stay the whole time."
"The whole weekend?"
"Yeah. Come Saturday morning, leave Sunday night."
'Heh heh.'
This girl's greedy. She's not serious, though—just polite empty words.
"Sol, don't you do internet streams?"
"So?"
"An old guy like me hanging around all weekend would mess with your work. Streams, editing videos, right?"
"……It wouldn't bother me."
"Haha, don't say that."
I ruffled her hair. Her budding pout smoothed out.
"Anyway, I'll visit weekends often. Every week... maybe not. But at least twice a month, for sure."
Han Sol said nothing. But at "twice a month," her lips pursed.
"Alright, Dad's off."
"……Okay."
The door clicked shut. I pressed the elevator button, absently scratching the red mark on my neck.
'Better spray some bug repellent when I get home.'
……………
A few days passed since the movie night at Han Sol's.
Lately, I'd picked up an annoying pest. Not that bad, though. If it were pure nuisance, I'd cut ties.
Anyway, the culprit?
Yeom Hana.
The flame-haired, sharp-eyed rock chick from Hongdae who smashed Villain "Silence Man" with an electric guitar and helped nab him. Rock stan—too harsh? Fine, rock superfan. Kinda dude-ish.
Under the guise of "thanks for helping with the villain," I'd half-forced pig intestine soup on her. With pork slices and blood sausage. Fine up to there. Kinda fun, even.
Problem: She snagged my number on the way out.
A 20-something girl taking a 40-something guy's digits—family honor? Nah, curse.
'Cause she sends nonstop nonsense.
Out of nowhere, a green frog pic. The famous meme one bawling its eyes out.
'………What the?'
No context, so I just asked.
'This punk.'
That kicked it off. Next day, Shiba Inu pics.
Old hero: buff, sneaky Shiba. Modern: teary, pitiful Shiba. Dunno the point, but dunking on new heroes.
Day after—
Then yesterday, this crap.
'Driving me nuts.'
More like a kid's game than a young woman's. But the issue? I replied.
Why entertain her? 'No friends.' Gotta admit it. Living as Han Kang, turns out he has zero buddies. Coworkers? Distant. Close pals? Rarer than an oasis in the desert. Someone to ping anytime? Nonexistent.
So even dumb messages... having someone to trade them with? Not bad.
Yeom Hana's loud, clueless, spouts nonsense, ajussi this ajussi that—but no malice. Just bored, hanging out.
'Part of rebuilding my social life.'
Days of back-and-forth, and soon it was routine. Frog on the commute? [Bored again, huh?] Lunch ping [Ajussi eat what?]? [Cafeteria.]
Then one afternoon, phone buzzed.
Yeom Hana fired back quick.
Why the hype?
'Heh, this kid.'
She actually remembered. My lips twitched up.