Safe Day
Safe Day: The day least likely to result in pregnancy.
…………… Among the three, Han Sol's change was by far the strangest and most dramatic. These days, Han Sol... well, "calm" seems like the right word. She doesn't talk about slitting her wrists anymore, or threaten to die together, or pull any of that grim blackmail. No more holding a box cutter to her throat like "that day." She just comes over to my place. Or I knock on the door of her officetel. We order delivery, watch movies or dramas on OTT, chat idly. And when the mood ripens... we naturally head to bed. The whole process flows smoothly, peacefully, like water. In bed, she's a seductress, but come morning, she slips back into her adorable daughter's face. Just like now.
"Daddy, eggs and bacon."
She's preparing breakfast like any ordinary daughter. These days, plenty of people hate cooking more than death itself, so compared to them, she's a model filial girl. Except this filial daughter rolled around in bed with her father—me—last night, squeezing me half to death. And now, the next morning, she's cooking naked except for an apron.
"...Mm."
Morning sunlight pours through the window, shattering across her pale bare skin. Naked apron means not a thread on her back. From her long white legs, to her birth-ready hips, the erector spinae muscles along her spine, the breasts visible even from behind, her shoulders and neckline. Is it because she inherited her looks from the adulterer and ex-wife? Or because she works hard to maintain them? Or both? Either way, her back view was beautiful. Even in the eyes of Han Kang, her non-biological father and de facto lover, it was undeniable.
"Thanks."
"Yeees~"
Han Sol hummed a tune as she cooked. The defenseless curve between her exposed butt and back caught my eye especially.
"How's the streaming going these days?"
"Good. Broke the donation record this month."
"Really? Impressive."
"Hehe..."
Han Sol sat across from me and picked up her chopsticks. I couldn't tear my eyes from the valley of her breasts peeking through the apron. Like I was hypnotized.
Just eat. I'm not some middle schooler.
Forcing restraint, I finished breakfast. Finally, unable to hold back, I asked Han Sol.
"Sol-ah. How've you been lately?"
"Pardon?"
"I mean, overall. How's life?"
A question loaded with implications. Han Sol poured coffee, answering nonchalantly.
"I like things as they are now."
"...Yeah?"
"Yeah. I decided not to care what Dad does out there. You always come home anyway."
"..."
"Jin-ah unnie, that redhead girl—they're just passing through."
Han Sol set the coffee cup in front of me with a smile.
"Because only I can stay here forever."
Her smile held no tremor. No jealousy, anger, or anxiety. Her once-murky salt-lake eyes gleamed with eerie certainty.
...She knows.
Lee Jin-ah was one thing, but even Yeom Hana? How she found out didn't matter. The issue was that Han Sol had likely known about her father's triple romance from the start—maybe even before.
Yet she hadn't exploded. Why?
Because only she can remain Han Kang's family forever.
That was Han Sol's answer. Girlfriends become strangers after a breakup; wives become others after divorce. Her mother proved that. But a daughter is different. No matter who her father dates or sleeps with, he always returns here. To his daughter's side.
Maybe my repeated assurances that I'd never abandon her helped ease her abandonment anxiety. Paradoxically, though, those words led her to this bizarre conclusion: Dad said he'd never abandon me, so he'll ultimately return to his daughter—me—and my victory is assured.
Whether that logic holds, I don't know. But Han Sol believes it, and that belief has restored her peace.
"Drink your coffee before it gets cold."
Han Sol sat across from me, lifting her own cup. She smiled sweetly, curling her lips. It was so serene that chills ran down my spine, yet I felt an odd relief.
A peaceful morning. Not normal, but peaceful.
……………
And then I realized something.
...Huh?
This... it's working?
The impossible Mission Impossible. Hell's tripod, the triple romance life. But when I actually tried it, the gears meshed. Sure, there's some grinding noise, but the machine keeps turning without stopping.
So, all three seem satisfied in their roles. Lee Jin-ah with her official girlfriend title. Yeom Hana with her sex-friend dynamic. And Han Sol with the unbreakable bond of "family."
Of course, this isn't normal. Ethically, it's like buying three express tickets to hell. Socially, it's a shitshow worthy of total ruin.
But. Even so. It's rolling along.
No explosions of jealousy. No one leaving. No deaths. The system holds without collapsing.
If my body holds up... maybe I can keep this going forever.
Retire, quit the job for more time. Invest smartly for financial freedom—maybe in five years.
Ridiculous thoughts snowballed.
Wait, hold on.
What if I just grow old and die like this... wouldn't that clear the trial?
The three goddesses watching me from the cafe right now, the trial they imposed. The clear condition: normal love and a happy ending.
Let's break it down. From Olympus gods' view, a harem counts as normal love. First condition: passed.
Happy ending... just don't get stabbed by jealous women? In other words, die peacefully in bed.
Looking back at the worlds so far:
First world: Mind destroyed by Choi Seori's drugs, death.
Second world: Fled Kim Bom, heart attack death.
Third world: Caught in shootout, gut shot death.
Fourth world: Self-destruct to stop reptilian invasion, death.
And now, the fifth world. No one's trying to kill me. Not Lee Jin-ah, not Yeom Hana, not Han Sol. They even care for my health.
Conclusion: No loose cannons, so keep it going!
As hopeful thoughts chased away Monday morning blues—
Bzzz— My phone buzzed.
……………
[Photo]
I picked up the phone seeing the name on screen.
Already scheduling tonight?
Smirking, I opened the message.
A photo? I tapped it with my thumb.
Once loaded...
"........."
My heart stopped. Lungs too.
A white plastic stick in the photo. Pregnancy test. And in that tiny window: two stark lines.
"Hah...!"
Breathing barely returned, but not normally. True terror lay in the text below.
Safe day, she said. Morning-after pill, she said. It's fine, don't worry, she said.
Yeom Hana's words exploded in my brain like fireworks.
Bzzz— Another buzz.
Not mad. Brain frozen.
……………
I reflexively hit call. Connected before two rings.
"Yeah, ajussi?"
Her voice was as bright as ever, almost eerily calm. Meanwhile, I swallowed dryly, wetting my parched throat.
"...Where are you right now."
"Me? Home. Lying down after the hospital."
"That photo—sure about it?"
"Huh?"
"A joke, right? Like last time, AI fake?"
God, please say yes. Please say it was a shitty prank. Please giggle that teasing ajussi is the world's best fun.
But her reply shattered my hopes.
"Nah, not pranking with that anymore. It's real, I swear."
"...Then."
"Don't believe me? Want the receipt? Paid big at the OB-GYN. Six weeks."
Six weeks. A month and a half. The number hammered my skull like a mallet. Calendar flipped rapidly in my head. Six weeks ago: around when we started hitting motels like meals.
World spun.
"No way. You said it was safe day—"
"Yeah?"
"You said you took the pill religiously. Your words! You know your body best!"
My voice rose. But Yeom Hana on the line stayed cool. I could almost feel her shrug.
"Well, body's not a machine. Must've slipped somewhere."
"Slipped!? That make sense?"
"Or a miracle. Blessing punching through crazy-low odds."
Calling a miracle? Curses nearly escaped my lips. This wasn't miracle or blessing—it was apocalypse. A little boy about to nuke my life.
"Oh, wait. Got one more from the hospital. Check it."
Bzzz. Phone vibrated by my ear. Dazed, I checked the screen. Black background... white fan shape. Ultrasound photo. And in the center: a tiny white dot.
Smaller than a bean, not even human-shaped yet.
[Ultrasound Photo]
"See it? The kid. Doc played the heartbeat. Thump, thump."
"........."
"Super small and fast, but stronger than I expected. Shocked me."
Thump, thump. Her onomatopoeia synced with my heartbeat. Is this what mental collapse feels like? Practical worries vaporized from my head.
Me... a dad? Like this? In this soap-opera mess, unprepared, just bam?
My blank mind held only that black-and-white photo, stark and alone.
Strangely, my eyes stuck to that faint dot—not even human-shaped.
That's my one true bloodline. Sure, Han Sol's my daughter. I raised her, gave her my name, still see her as such.
But this is different. That faint dot on the ultrasound: the first real blood of the man Han Kang—and me, possessing him.
"Ajussi, you listening?"
Her voice echoed distantly. I needed to reply, but my mouth wouldn't open. Thumb and index unconsciously swiped the screen. Zoom. The tiny dot grew slightly.
So I stared blankly at that small dot on my phone screen.