A Real, Real Dad
It was the year I turned twenty-six — back when I still had no idea I'd been cursed with something called Saiyan Syndrome.
It varies from boat to boat, but the fishing vessel I worked on spent about nine months of every year wandering the open sea. The remaining three were spent in port, resting while I renewed contracts or hunted for new work — an endless cycle of that life.
I hadn't made it to the funeral, but I felt no particular guilt toward my dead older brother. Toward Mom, though, who'd kept the funeral wake alone — that was a mortal sin I'd committed, no question.
So whenever I came into port, I always booked a motel near the neighborhood. Why waste money on lodging when there was a perfectly good house sitting empty?
Because if I went home, I'd have to see that kid.
"Why won't you just go home already? You trying to give your sister a heart attack on purpose?"
Every time I met Aunt, I got an earful. But I never had the confidence to explain the whole mess of the love triangle between me, my brother, and Jiyeon, so I always mumbled some excuse and moved on.
"I just feel too guilty about missing the funeral... Besides, there's a little kid in the house. If I show up, it'll only make things weird, right?"
"Why do you hate that child so much? Whatever the circumstances, she's still your brother's kid. So why are you dodging her and meeting your sister outside like this?"
"I. Don't. Hate her. If I hated her, why would I be covering her school fees and living expenses?"
The truth was, I did hate her. More precisely, I couldn't stand the sight of her.
But Mom adored her so much that I shelved my personal feelings. And with Mom too sick to work, I really was the one footing the bills as head of the household, wasn't I?
Sure, the kid was just riding the trickle-down effect of the money I gave Mom — but technically, that still made my statement true. Anyway. That was the deal.
Three months, though, is a longer stretch of time than you'd think. No matter how badly you want to avoid someone, that kind of distance doesn't hold up between family.
I'd planned a rare, quiet mother-and-son lunch — just the two of us. I'd booked the restaurant and was waiting when Mom showed up.
Pitter-patter...
"...?"
But Mom wasn't alone. Clutching her thin fingers and toddling along beside her was a little girl.
She had the delicate, tapering eyes of a kitten given human form. The kind of face that could devour ratings if you dropped her into a child-actor role tomorrow — and looking at it sent a painful jolt of déjà vu through my chest.
It didn't take long to figure out who she was. One glance and the Yu Jiyeon vibe was pouring off her in waves. This was the very creature that had dragged me into the swamp.
"Uh, Mom? Why isn't she at school?"
"Today's the school founding anniversary."
"..."
Was she kidding me right now? Did she genuinely not know that I always suggested lunch instead of dinner specifically so I wouldn't run into this kid?
Of course she didn't know — I'd never said it out loud. But if Mom had even a shred of intuition, she should have picked up on the fact that I was avoiding her.
"Haa... Just sit down for now."
I never expected to dodge her forever. I just figured that if an unavoidable confrontation ever came, I'd at least get some time to prepare.
Fidget... Fumble...
But Mom's behavior was even stranger. She started glancing at me restlessly, like someone about to confess a terrible crime.
"Why aren't you sitting?"
"Well..."
Mom turned her head back toward the little one. The kid was staring at me with wide, blank eyes — so cute that, if you didn't know how she'd been made, you'd want to nibble her cheeks right off.
"It's been a while since you saw Daddy, hasn't it?"
"Hello..."
"...?"
For a second I was sure I'd misheard. Or maybe Mom had been possessed and was seeing my dead brother's ghost.
So the soul of my dead brother — the one whose funeral I'd completely ghosted — was now clinging to me? I scratched the back of my neck out of pure dread, but felt nothing.
"Uh, Mom? Can we talk for a second?"
I sat the kid down at the table, took Mom's hand, and pulled her somewhere quieter. Then I asked about the conversation I'd just overheard.
"Mom, what did you just say a minute ago?"
"Surprised, right? I was going to tell you eventually..."
"Huh? So you really can see my brother's ghost? Where is he now? Is he still stuck to me?"
I was completely screwed, wasn't I? I'd been a seaman for years, and I was still ridiculously susceptible to that kind of superstition.
But having my brother's vengeful spirit attached to me would have been the better option. Compared to what Mom said next, anyway.
"I'm sorry. Harin... she thinks you're her dad."
"What the hell does that mean... Why would she think that?"
"Because... I told her you were."
"...?"
Was I the only one who couldn't process this? The person who'd gotten Yu Jiyeon pregnant was someone else entirely — so why was I the one being called her dad?
"Hoo... She was too young to bring to the funeral, you know? I was going to tell her when she got a little older, so I kept it quiet. Then one day she saw a photo of you and just went, 'Daddy!'"
"How!? She was pretty big already when my brother died, wasn't she? How does someone mix up their own father like that..."
"You and your brother look alike, so maybe she just got confused. But I couldn't bring myself to tell her no. So... I told her you were far away, working to earn money."
"..."
Mom had just handed me one more reason never to come home. Was she seriously saying this to me right now?
Did she really not know who I was out there in the South Pacific for — gutting tuna heads and throwing away a shining future?
Of. Course. I'd never told her, so how would she know. But turning a son who'd never even had a girlfriend, let alone gotten married, into a kid's dad was a bit much, wasn't it?
"Uh, Mom, are you trying to pick a fight with me right now? When exactly were you planning to tell her the truth?"
"Well... maybe around the time you get married, Harin would be ready to accept it?"
"So until then I'm supposed to pretend to be her dad? Mom, this isn't fair to me — and it sure as hell isn't fair to her."
"Then there's nothing for it... Go tell her yourself."
"..."
Today was the first time I realized just how differently Mom treated me and my brother. He and she had made the mess, and somehow I was the one expected to clean it all up.
Was this resentment over me missing the funeral? Or revenge for changing my career path on a whim and never coming home?
I had no choice but to go back to the table. The little kid — Harin — lifted her head with a tense face.
"Hey... Harin, right? There's something I need to tell you..."
Blink... Blink...
But I couldn't say it. Those innocent eyes that knew nothing of the world kept blinking at me, staring endlessly at the dad she hadn't seen in so long — and that baby-kitten gaze was far too powerful an attack.
"M-maybe we should go eat something else? This place only has Korean food. What do you like?"
"Pork cutlet..."
And just like that, I became a dad. To a child who looked half like each of the two people who'd betrayed me — a bond I wanted to sever but never could.
After that, I didn't even want to see Mom anymore. I'd still drop by occasionally when I came into port, but only on days I was sure Harin had a schedule — a secret visit, and then I was gone.
Time blew past like the wind, and before I knew it I'd sailed well past thirty. And at last, I realized something was wrong with me.
"You got some kind of disease or what?"
"Sir? What do you mean by that..."
"You look too damn young. You really don't know why all the green rookies keep climbing all over you?"
"..."
Thinking about it, it really was strange. I spent every day on deck fighting every kind of seafood under the sun, ultraviolet radiation be damned.
In a job like mine, you age faster than most people — never slower.
And yet I still had the face of a twenty-year-old. Sure, I was burned black from the blazing sun, but if you dropped a kid who liked soccer next to me, he'd start talking casual with me in about two seconds.
A ship is a powder keg that keeps the peace through rigid hierarchy. No matter how hard I tried to enforce discipline with authority, my youthful looks started becoming poison.
Just as the work was getting harder and the disillusionment was setting in, an emergency call came from Aunt.
"Haa... Can't you get off that boat?"
"Aunt, you can't just spring something like that on me..."
"Your sister is really sick. They say she has a year. So can't you stay by her side for that one year, at least?"
"..."
That was the finishing blow. I'd already noticed something was off with my body and been looking for an excuse to leave the ship — and life had forced the decision on me in the cruelest way possible.
In the end, I finished more than a decade of voyages and came back to land. I went to the hospital to comfort Mom, who'd spent her whole life working herself to the bone only to fall ill so young.
But the time we had left wasn't a year. It was barely a month.
"Will you grant Mom one last request?"
"What do you mean, last... The doctor said the medicine is working well. You'll be back on your feet in no time."
I forced a bright expression and lied. But Mom knew her own condition better than anyone.
"I'm sorry. The real reason you never come home is because of Harin, isn't it?"
"No, I mean..."
"You liked Jiyeon, didn't you? And then she went and did that with Mingu, and you got angry. That's why you left home."
"..."
If she'd known all along, why had she done it? But we'd come too far for me to hold her accountable now.
Why had I done it? It wasn't as if Yu Jiyeon was the only woman in the world, and it wasn't as if we'd even been in a serious relationship.
I'd spent the overflowing blood of adolescence on the one thing that would ruin my life. So this was divine punishment.
Right up until the moment I lost my entire family, I'd never managed to be a good son or a good younger brother.
"But can Mom be sorry for one more thing?"
"Ahem... W-what is it?"
I cleared a throat that felt ready to burst. Mom wrapped my hand in fingers that were nothing but bone.
"Harin... she's such a pitiful child. So take good care of her."
"Mom, even now you're worrying about Harin..."
"No matter how much you hate her, that doesn't change. Now the only family left is you and her."
"..."
The one truth I'd known for a long time and still refused to accept until the very end.
That the child born of the two people I resented most in the world carried the same blood as me.
Mom received my promise, smiled, and passed peacefully. Alone at the burial ground, smoking a cigarette, I was approached by Aunt.
"Want to come to Seoul? If you live near me, I can at least pack you some side dishes."
"Alright."
"What are you going to tell Harin?"
There was still one problem left. Between Mom's illness and the funeral, a storm of time had swept through, and I'd barely spent any of it with Harin.
Aunt seemed to think the moment had come. Time to tell the child the truth and become a completely new kind of family.
"Do I really need to tell her?"
"What are you talking about? Don't tell me..."
"She already thinks I'm her dad. So for now, is it so bad if she keeps thinking that?"
"..."
I'd wasted half my life resenting other people. I didn't want to spend the rest of it resenting a child who had done nothing wrong.
So I made up my mind. I would become Harin's real dad.
Of course, that didn't mean I could ever become a real real dad...