I Confessed My Own Sins

The door slid open, and Tsuki was waiting on the other side, her eyes full of worry.

"Jiwoo-chan! Wh-what did Grandpa say?"

"Hmm... well?"

"Is it a secret?"

It wasn't really a secret. All he'd told me was to eat, sleep, and stay the night.

"Really? That's all?"

"That's really all. He didn't say anything el—ah. Wait. If I count that, then I guess he did say something else?"

I hesitated. Was this something I should tell Tsuki right now?

Ah, whatever. I'll just tell her. Sooner or later, she needed to know anyway.

"The truth is..."

"Yeah, yeah!"

Tsuki leaned in, hanging on every word.

"Your grandpa doesn't hate you, Tsuki. If anything, I could feel how much he likes you. How much he loves you."

"Ehhh?! Th-that's a lie!"

"It's not a lie."

When I'd shown him the videos of Tsuki working so hard, the corners of his mouth had kept creeping up no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He'd coughed at the end and looked away, but his ears had gone red; he'd been desperate to cover how embarrassed he was.

And the decisive part: every time Tsuki's grandfather said her name, he put our in front of it. Our Tsuki.

I'd debated whether to mention that. It wasn't anyone else's business—it was Tsuki's. In the end, I told her anyway.

"Is it that much of a shock?"

"Y-yeah. Grandpa always butted into everything I did. He interfered, he had a million things I wasn't allowed to do. I thought it was because he hated me."

"That's actually more like—"

The door slid open again, and Tsuki's grandfather stepped out with his brow furrowed hard enough to crack stone. The first time I'd seen that face, it had been genuinely terrifying. Now I understood. He was only clenching his expression so it wouldn't melt the moment he stood in front of Tsuki.

"What are you doing out here? Go help get dinner ready."

"Ah—yes!"

Tsuki answered with her face gone stiff, then spun on her heel and fled. There was no other word for it. She ran.

"Do you have to look that scary? You could loosen up a little."

"...The moment I let my guard down, the organization is in danger. I can't afford to relax. Not even for a second."

"That's true."

"...You understand?"

I nodded.

In my last life, I'd changed jobs more times than I could count. How was anyone supposed to stay at one company until they died? These days, even executives got fired the second they slipped. So people dumped every risk on their subordinates and clawed to save only themselves—and eventually, there was no one left. I'd been one of them. I'd padded my resume just enough to survive the pressure from above, then jumped ship.

That was how I'd learned it. If the top isn't solid, the bottom never will be either.

"Kids these days only think about their own necks... and then you stood there and said you'd take responsibility for our Tsuki, no hesitation. You don't seem like the young people I know."

"So I failed the evaluation, then?"

"What? Of course you passed! And you knew, didn't you?"

"Of course I did."

From the moment I'd stepped into the house, the way people looked at me hadn't been the look you give your daughter's friend—glad she's here, or even mildly put out. It had been the look of people sizing up what kind of creature I was, and whether I was going to get in the way of Tsuki's future.

"I hear a lot that I'm quicker on the uptake than most."

I'd heard that back when I was pounding pavement as a salesman in my last life, but I had heard it. Not a complete lie.

"Heh. Is that so? Looks like it's about time. Come on."

"Ah! I'll go help too!"

At her grandfather's words, a delicious smell found my nose. Home cooking. Japanese, from the scent of it.

I swallowed. Just imagining it made my mouth water.

Drawn by the smell, I reached the kitchen and found Tsuki and her mother in aprons.

"I'll help!"

The dining room sat a little apart from the kitchen. We had no choice but to carry everything over ourselves, tray by tray. A serving robot would have made this easy—but this was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠country that still loved analog, apparently. Even in a house this large, they moved everything by hand, without a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠machine in sight.

Inside, the room was wide enough to seat a crowd, the floor laid with worn green tatami. Only two people were sitting there: Tsuki's grandfather, and a man who had to be her father. Both of them sat perfectly still, mouths shut, backs straight.

Tonight's menu was everything you picture when you hear home cooking—grilled fish, miso soup, and a side of braised potatoes.

I want to eat already.

I stared at the fish in front of me and wanted nothing more than to grab it with my bare hands and tear in.

My stomach growled, screaming to be filled.

"Eat."

Only after Tsuki's grandfather started did the rest of us pick up our chopsticks. I didn't know if Japan had a formal rule about waiting for your elders, but the atmosphere made it impossible to dive in first.

Hunger had just about reached its limit. I immediately scooped up a spoonful of steaming, perfectly cooked rice.

If you're Korean, everything runs on rice. First meetings, reunions, even hello—you ask if someone's eaten.

White rice, still breathing steam. My mouth watered on its own. I was about to send it straight in and move my chopsticks to a side dish when—

"Jiwoo-chan. Here."

Tsuki held out a small plate, the fish meticulously deboned, the flesh laid out with care.

"Tsuki?"

"Hehe. Eat lots, Jiwoo-chan."

She beamed at me. It was the same smile I'd seen every day back in Korea. Even when we'd first landed in Japan and gone sightseeing for a bit—no. Even after we'd arrived at this house, her face had been so stiff.

"I'm fine. You eat, Tsuki."

"N-no. I'm already full... Not everyone can eat like you, Jiwoo-chan."

"Like me? How much did I even have today?"

I thought back over everything we'd eaten while sightseeing. Takoyaki, of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠course—Japan's greatest hit—then ekiben, those station bentos. Fried chicken, bread, a quick stop at a convenience store... wait. That wasn't even that much, was it?

Doesn't everyone eat at least that much as a baseline?

I tilted my head.

"Jiwoo-chan? Why do you look like that? Don't tell me... you don't like fish? That can't be right."

Tsuki tipped her head at me, all wide-eyed confusion. The expression was so cute I felt a smile tug at my mouth.

Tsuki's grandfather, on the other hand—

"No, I love fish. If you're full, I'll eat it. You've already gone to a lot of trouble because of me. I'll pick the bones out myself, though, so just pass ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it over."

Come to think of it, Yuwol unnie and Jina unnie had never been able to keep up with how much I ate either. They always tapped out halfway. Tsuki had never once looked uncomfortable, even when she was stuffed; she'd stayed with me to the last bite. I felt a rush of gratitude for that.

I set the fish she'd given me on top of the white rice and put the spoon in my mouth. The salt was just right, and it melted into the texture of the rice until the only word I had left was good.

"Hm? No way. Tsuki will pick out every single bone with lots of love. Give Jiwoo-chan's fish over here too."

"No, really, I'm fine..."

"If it's for Jiwoo-chan, Tsuki can pick out as many bones as it takes. You have to eat a lot if you want to grow nice and tall!"

I was already much taller than Tsuki. She was somewhere in the late hundred-and-fifties. I'd been working out lately, and I'd crossed into the mid-sixties—a hundred and sixty-four, to be exact.

And if I got any bigger from here, it would only be my chest. Finding bras was already a nightmare. I had to order them from overseas in bulk as it was. If they got any larger, I was going to be in real trouble.

"Tsuki... I can't get any bigger..."

"Huuuh...? No. Jiwoo-chan can get as big as she wants. You're going to have the number-one chest in the world."

What was that.

That was scary.

The words number one in the world had a tiny, traitorous appeal—but I did not want the number-one chest in the world.

"Heh heh..."

Tsuki's grandfather watched the two of us with nothing but warm amusement in his eyes. The instant our gazes met, the softness vanished like it had never been there. He furrowed his brow again and went back to his meal.

And so I finished a delicious dinner, taking bite after bite of the fish Tsuki deboned for me herself.

After that pleasant meal, I took a quick shower in the bath Tsuki's mother had prepared. Midway through, disaster struck—Tsuki opened the door and announced we should shower together—but after three months of Tsuki, I could read her coming a mile away.

"I'm already done. Take your time, Tsuki."

"Hing..."

Dinner done. Shower done. And then the hour I had been dreading was waiting for me.

I turned on the phone I'd shut off just in case.

I swallowed. I was going to get chewed out. I might actually die. I'd been chewed out once before, and that face had been far scarier than Tsuki's grandfather's.

The phone buzzed in my hand. It was her again. The existence that had swallowed my phone whole.

I hit accept and put it to my ear.

"H-hello...?"

A short sigh slid down my spine like ice.

Ah. I was done for. I could beg for my life and she still wouldn't forgive me.

I had to beg anyway.

"H-Hoyeon unnie... I'm sor—"

Click.

A few short, clean words, and the line went dead.

A nameless chill crawled up my back.

"Ah, shit... I'm fucked."

Was there any way to stay alive through this?

I knew it was a hundred percent my fault. I'd gotten on a plane to Japan without a word. I hadn't picked up, and I'd made her worry. And last time, she'd made me swear I wouldn't do anything else worth worrying about—and I hadn't even lasted three months before I broke that promise again.

"Yeah. Even if I get chewed out, I don't have a thing to say for myself."

I knew my own sins. I'd gone and confessed them myself.