To Abort or Raise It. That Is the Question.
……………
A café near the office. The same place where I'd made Yeom Hana apologize last time for her prank with the pregnancy test. Today, the sunlight pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows by the street was so dazzling it stung the eyes.
On the table sat a glass of kiwi juice and a glass of strawberry juice. The water droplets beading on the glass surfaces sparkled like jewels in the light.
Considering the situation I was in, it was a brutally peaceful—and brutally alien—sight.
I sat in the window seat, staring blankly at Yeom Hana across from me as she fiddled with her orange straw.
…This doesn't feel right.
Our usual spots were always the same: a dingy PC bang, a meat joint or pub with fluorescent lights dangling overhead, or a motel room curtained off with nothing but purple lighting spilling in.
Yeah. Sorry as I felt saying it about her, the blunt truth was that Yeom Hana and I always met in the shadows.
If I had to make excuses, it was unavoidable. That's just what our relationship was.
Sneaking around behind my official girlfriend Lee Jin-ah's back. Something we could never show the world openly. A bond that existed only in the shadows, unofficially.
But today's Yeom Hana was different. She sat across from me in the sunniest window seat.
Did that mean we no longer needed to hide? Or that we could no longer hide?
"Why aren't you drinking, ajusshi? This is fresh fruit—it's good."
Yeom Hana mumbled around her straw.
The girl who'd normally order booze first was having fruit juice.
No way.
Was this some kind of protest? Like, I'm a mom now, so I have to think about my health—a silent statement.
"…Juice, huh? Not coffee."
"Yeah. No caffeine for a while. No alcohol either."
She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"…Huh."
The café was serene. Birds chirped outside, flowers bloomed somewhere, and faint jazz drifted through the air.
For the woman who'd dropped a nuclear bomb called pregnancy on me, Yeom Hana's attitude was far too calm. Calmer than any of our recent meetings, to the point of unease.
I seemed to be the only one burning up inside.
"…Hana."
"Yeah?"
"You—"
The words stuck in my throat, hard to force out. But if I didn't say them, we wouldn't get anywhere.
"Y-you're not thinking of… getting rid of it, right? The… baby in your belly."
The moment I said it, I felt like every other customer in the café and every passerby on the street was staring at me.
Yeom Hana let go of her straw and fixed me with a steady gaze. Her round, flame-orange eyes reflected only my face.
"Well… if you say abort it, I will."
So simple. An instant answer, without a hint of hesitation.
She'd tossed the ball right into my court.
"But ajusshi."
"Yeah."
"Honestly, though… I think this baby has a right to be born. It's not the kid's fault, right?"
"…Yeah, true."
"But on the flip side."
Yeom Hana's voice suddenly turned dry. All the emotion drained out, leaving it brittle as dead wood.
"Thinking from the baby's perspective… being born to a mom like me. High school grad, no real job, nothing learned, nothing owned—just a total mess of a life."
"Hey, why say it like—"
"It's facts."
Yeom Hana let out a wry chuckle. Less self-deprecating, more like she was talking about someone else.
"My mom tried to abort me too, she said. Went to the clinic a bunch of times while I was in her belly. But she'd chicken out once she got there, come home, then decide she had to do it again. Ended up having me 'cause I grew too big to abort."
"Hana…"
"So I heard that a lot growing up. 'Your mom’s life would've been different without you.'"
"…"
"Sometimes parents who aren't there are better. Speaking from experience. And if I raise this kid alone, I'd probably turn out the same."
In the bright sunlight, the story she shared was paradoxically the darkest one I'd ever heard from her.
"So… if there's a right to be born, doesn't the kid have a right not to be born too?"
A life with a mom like me? If I were the baby, I'd hate to be born.
With that logic, she'd slyly—and cruelly—shoved the choice onto me.
Abort or keep it. Stay by Yeom Hana's side or not.
What would happen to Yeom Hana if I didn't choose her? She'd leave my side, or maybe go back to being fuckbuddies like before, pretending nothing happened.
After ruthlessly aborting a baby with a 'right not to be born.'
Cowardice for pushing the decision onto me? Or consideration for giving me the choice?
I wasn't sure.
Yeom Hana stared straight through me.
"So, ajusshi… what do you want to do?"
"Ughhh…"
I clutched my face in my palms.
Whatever dignified, reliable ajusshi image I'd been maintaining had flown off into outer space.
What should I do?
I wanted to hide in the darkness behind my hands. But sunlight pierced through my fingers, and the sound of her stirring her straw across the table pinned me to reality.
Run away? Pretend I'm crazy, cut contact, and ghost?
Or hand her a wad of cash and beg her to raise it herself?
…No.
That's crossing a line as a human being.
I'd died four times across four worlds. Sometimes murdered helplessly, sometimes shot but leaving something behind, sometimes self-destructing for a necessary sacrifice.
Through five possessions and trials in other bodies, I'd never given up being human.
Then advise abortion? Tell her to do it. She'd said it herself just now.
If I washed my hands of it and said I wouldn't take responsibility, Yeom Hana would handle it neatly and sensibly—abort the baby herself.
Then it'd be her choice, and my hands stay clean.
Might be the cleanest option.
No, absolutely not.
No use fooling myself. No matter how I dressed it up, it was the same.
Leave her to it, knowing full well abortion would follow? What's that different from abetting murder?
Or even inciting feticide?
Then the last option. Say I'll take responsibility. What then?
Lee Jin-ah? Han Sol? My official girlfriend. My de facto mistress-daughter.
How do I explain this to those two?
'Actually, I've been seeing another woman. And I got her pregnant.'
Hell would unfold instantly.
That's the vibe. Every choice leads to hell.
Run: subhuman scum.
Abort: murderer.
Take responsibility… Can I even survive that? Doubt it.
What to do? What should I do?
Run? Abort? Take responsibility?
Would Lee Jin-ah and Han Sol just sit still?
No way it'd blow over easily.
Stupid bastard. Should've used a condom properly.
Wait. Did she take the morning-after pill? Or was she planning this from the start?
No point thinking that now. Focus. Focus!
"…"
In the end, Yeom Hana's words lingered in my head.
[If there's a right to be born, isn't there a right not to be?]
[A life with a mom like me? If I were the baby, I'd hate to be born.]
[If you say abort, I will.]
And that tiny dot on the ultrasound. The heartbeat—thump, thump.
Sudden realization hit.
Now that I'd heard about the baby—now that I knew—I had… almost no choices left.
I lowered my hands from my face, resolve hardened.
"…I'll take responsibility."
The words slipped out, and Lee Jin-ah's face flashed in my mind. The firm belief in her clear eyes.
Sunbae, we're dating, right? Her hands tightening my tie.
Han Sol's face flashed next. Naked but for an apron, making breakfast.
Whatever Dad does outside, you'll come home in the end, right? Her smile.
How do I tell those two?
My mind was a blank slate. No solutions came.
But the words were out. Dice rolled, no take-backs.
Yeom Hana, hearing my declaration, didn't leap up in joy, sob in emotion, or throw herself into my arms.
She just gazed at me quietly, eyes sparkling.
"For real?"
"Yeah."
Silence hung for a moment.
"What does 'taking responsibility' mean exactly?"
"…What?"
"Just sending child support? Or…"
Her trailing words made her intent crystal clear.
She didn't want money. She wanted a husband. A dad. A family with me, her, and our kid.
Too heavy a topic to voice right now.
"…Give me some time to think."
That was all I could muster. Cowardly, I knew. But best I could do.
"Okay."
Yeom Hana nodded surprisingly easily.
"Got it. I'll wait."
Her smile wasn't triumphant or beaming. That calm expression sent a chill down my spine instead.
Why was she backing off so readily?
The answer came easily. She knew.
No need to push now. Time was on her side.
The longer it dragged, the bigger her belly would grow. The bigger it got, the less I could run.
Choices had narrowed. I'd said I'd take responsibility—now it was just deciding the form.
Child support 'responsibility.' Or marriage-and-raise-together 'responsibility.'
And from the start, only one answer existed.
"Ajusshi."
Yeom Hana finished her juice and stood.
"…Yeah."
"Think it over good. But don't take too long."
She patted her lower belly lightly.
"Babies grow fast. In the womb."
The café door opened, letting in outside air. It closed, and her silhouette vanished.
I was left alone.
On the table: her empty kiwi juice glass. And my untouched strawberry juice.