Shopping

By the time we rolled into downtown Seoul, the sun was already sinking. As if celebrating the newly fortified bond between father and daughter, the sunset looked especially beautiful today.

"Harin, come to think of it—what did you do for lunch?"

"I grabbed some bread and stuff at a café with the kids earlier."

"You must be starving, then. Want to get dinner somewhere before we head home?"

Truth was, I was the hungry one. After unleashing Harin and channeling my inner master detective to track down the owner of that chrysanthemum, I hadn't even had time to suck on a piece of candy.

"I'm fine. Don't waste money. We can just eat at home."

"We've never once gone out to eat, just the two of us. If we go home I'll have to cook rice and boil stew all over again—who's got time to wait for that? Besides, your dad didn't get lunch today."

"If that's the case…"

"So you pick. What do you feel like?"

I finally managed to drag her onto my wavelength. Harin answered without a second's hesitation.

"Pork cutlet…"

Jingle!

And so we ended up walking into Aunt's place for what was technically not-really-eating-out. Being a weekend evening, the restaurant felt a little quieter than usual.

"What's this? Why are the two of you here together?"

Aunt seemed mildly startled by the unusual pairing. While Harin offered a stiff little greeting, I explained.

"We stopped by hyung's grave."

"Did you now?"

Maybe because I'd actually done as she'd ordered, she smiled the way you smile at a dog that successfully fetches the ball. The moment we sat down, Uncle started setting out side dishes and asked,

"Harin, what would you like?"

"Just the regular for me…"

"Ah, Grandpa'll take care of Harin's order. You—what do you want?"

"It's been a while. Maybe I'll go for the tenderloin?"

"Sorry, we're out of the tenderloin scraps. Eat the loin."

"…"

What… kind of nonsense was that? His own nephew had brought his grandniece for once, and he was still trying to feed me the discards?

Then—sizzle!—without so much as a proper fry, the food appeared. Soggy, collapsed breading and lukewarm cutlet that didn't even steam.

Hiss…

Harin, by contrast, received a special set that wasn't even on the menu—tenderloin, loin, chicken, and cheese. Glossy oil was still bubbling in real time, crisping the coating right before our eyes.

What the hell was this? I was the closer blood relative—why the discrimination between me and Harin!?

"You can have some of mine."

"No! You eat. I only ever eat the loin anyway. This is plenty."

I couldn't exactly stoop to eyeing my own daughter's plate. Even if it was Aunt's place, I was occupying a table during business hours and freeloading a meal. I would endure.

"How's the election prep going?"

Still, I mustered a little more courage for the sake of father-daughter harmony. Cornered with nowhere to run, Harin answered obediently.

"Thanks to you…"

"What did I even do that deserves a 'thanks to you'? Need anything else?"

"No. What you've already done is enough."

Honestly, aside from the one mistake of dating the wrong boyfriend, the kid was flawless. But I'd heard everything from Eunchae. Apparently Harin was basically running the whole campaign herself.

And yet she was trying to hand all the credit to me, a guy who'd done nothing but buy her a few iced-tea bags. Where did a sweetheart like this even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠come from? At this rate I wouldn't even need to adopt Eunju as a substitute daughter.

Hmm… Then maybe it was time to ask about the boyfriend. Playing high-school boy couldn't last forever—I'd gotten nothing out of the entire month of March.

On a day when the father-daughter chemistry was exploding like this, I figured I could finally float the question. After arranging my thoughts a dozen times in my head, I finally broke the long silence.

"Hey, Harin…"

"You. Come talk to me for a second."

"…?"

It was Aunt. I was just about to say something important—why interrupt now?

But Aunt left it at that and headed for the kitchen. After years of being hauled around like a caught rat, my body followed on autopilot.

"What is it, Aunt? Don't tell me you're about to make me wash dishes because I ate the scraps?"

"I'd love nothing more, but then Harin couldn't go home. That's not why I called you. Where the hell do you spend all the money you earn?"

"Me? Utilities, food, Harin's allowance…"

"That's not what I'm asking! Finish eating and take her out to buy at least one decent outfit."

"Huh? Why?"

Whack!

Instead of answering, Aunt cracked me across the back of the head. I barely held back the tears prickling my eyes as I clutched my stinging skull.

"Wh-what was that for? Why do you hit me every chance you get?"

"You only ever do things that deserve hitting, so I don't even think of it as hitting. You spent the whole day with Harin and noticed nothing? Her dad's got a perfectly good job—why are you dressing the kid like a beggar?"

"B-beggar? Isn't that just the trendy Y2K look or whatever?"

"Quit yapping and take her to a department store the second you're done eating. Buy her something new. Anyone looking would think the poor thing has no parents."

"That bad? It might be tough, though. Harin's opened up to me a lot, but she's insanely sensitive about money. I think she's worried about her dad's wallet…"

Strictly speaking, it was because of that damn boyfriend. He vacuumed up what little allowance she had, so of course she felt guilty toward me.

That was why she insisted she didn't need academies or anything else the moment money came up. But telling Aunt would only get me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cursed out as a man who had no right to call himself a father, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Make up whatever excuse you have to, but take her and buy her something new. I'll check later."

"…"

When every conversation ended in threats of violence, all I could do was obey. Besides, what father in the world would refuse the chance to dress his daughter in pretty clothes?

And so our cozy father-daughter dinner came to an end. We said our goodbyes and were about to leave when Uncle suddenly grabbed me.

"What is it, Uncle? Don't tell me you heard Aunt and you're trying to slip me pocket money? I'm a working adult—I can buy my own daughter clothes…"

"Not that. The bill."

"…?"

What… kind of nonsense was that? "The bill"? That was an absurdly stiff, businesslike word to pull out among family.

"Th-the bill, Uncle? We're family. And I only ate one leftover loin cutlet you were going to throw out anyway—what's there to charge for?"

"You, sure. But Harin ate the fresh stuff. I don't want to take money either, but if I just let you walk, your aunt won't let it slide."

"…"

In the end I had to pay for Harin's share before we could leave. If this was how it was going to go, had there been any point coming to Aunt's place at all?

Vroom!

We climbed back into the car. Home was only a short drive, but first I had to carry out Aunt's ironclad order.

"Harin? Want to hit a department store?"

"What for?"

"You don't seem to have many clothes. I want to buy you something."

"I'm fine. I already have plenty."

Just as expected, Harin shut it down cold. But like Aunt said, I needed an excuse—any excuse.

"Haa… Harin? Honestly, your dad feels terrible. Back then I was barely scraping by, so I never once bought your mom a proper outfit. So I was thinking… could I buy one for you instead?"

A little underhanded, sure, but this was a Mom Attack. Harin looked flustered for a moment, then meekly decided to go along.

"O-okay. If that's why, I'll take it."

Operation success. Earlier in the car she'd already shown how much she missed her mother and laid our whole relationship bare—there was no way she could refuse now.

I turned the wheel. I'd meant to go to a department store, but Harin kept insisting those places were ridiculously expensive, so we headed for a shopping district farther from the neighborhood.

Bustle, bustle…

Even on a Sunday evening the streets were packed shoulder to shoulder. And Harin, surprisingly, was enjoying the shopping.

Stare… stare…

She'd claimed she needed nothing, yet every shop window we passed locked her eyes in place as she stared holes through the glass. Inside her head she was probably dressing and undressing a little doll shaped like herself, running simulation after simulation.

"Don't just look—go in and try something on."

"No. Places like this are just overpriced for no reason."

"Harin, I told you earlier. Never buying your mom a single decent outfit is the regret of my life. You're just receiving the clothes I should have bought her, so there's no need to feel guilty."

"…"

Harin wrestled with it. Whether it was okay to accept something meant for Yu Jiyeon, whether the family finances could handle it, and so on.

But it really was fine! Sure, I was a bottom-rung office drone pulling a measly thirty million a year, but I had seven hundred million in cash saved up.

And once that SCAM coin Jinho hyung mentioned got listed, even skimming five percent would net me two billion. Pure free bonus money—so please, just buy something…

Jingle…

We finally stepped into the shop she'd been eyeing earlier. I carefully asked a clerk,

"Is it okay if she tries things on?"

"Of course! Fitting rooms are that way. Aeran? Can you help her out?"

Harin picked a skirt and shirt she'd clearly been watching and headed for the fitting room. Hmm… was the skirt looking a little short just my chronic case of Dad Disease?

"Shouldn't the boyfriend be buying some clothes too?"

"Excuse me?"

The second Harin left, a woman who looked about my age—probably the manager—blurted out something completely unnecessary. What did you just say?

"I'm not her boyfriend."

"Oh, still in the talking stage? The way you pulled out your wallet I figured you were treating her. At that point aren't you past 'talking'?"

"That's— I'm Harin's da—"

Wait a second! I hadn't already forgotten why Harin hated walking around with me in crowded places, had I?

No need to drag out the whole Saiyan Syndrome thing and ruin a good mood.

"I-I'm her older brother. Full-blooded older brother."

"Oh, really? Sorry about that. Weird, though. The vibe definitely wasn't brother-sister…"

Well, of course not—we were originally father and daughter. The manager wandered off muttering awkwardly to herself.

Seriously, kids and adults alike—what was floating around in their heads that they all said the exact same thing?

Meanwhile Harin stepped out of the fitting room. I turned with a bright smile, eager to see how pretty she looked, and then…

She was still in her original clothes. The only difference was the paper bag in the clerk's hand who'd gone in with her.

"You're not wearing it?"

"I tried it on inside. It fits."

"…"

I knew what a fitting room was for. I just wanted, as a father, to see my daughter's face light up in new clothes with my own eyes.

She'd checked it alone and walked out without a clue. Zero social awareness. Outwardly, of course, I smiled kindly and asked,

"Going to get it?"

"I think it's nice. The price is reasonable too…"

Even now she couldn't drop the money talk. Either way, I paid before she could change her mind.

It was only two paper bags, yet I felt like I owned the entire world. Time that should have been the most ordinary thing between a father and daughter was, for me, a string of firsts.

"Thanks, Harin."

"Why are you thanking me? I just received something…"

"You still did what I wanted, didn't you? So—is there anything else you need?"

"You've already done a lot. You don't have to do more."

Two outfits and she was acting like I'd moved mountains… But if I framed it as her kind heart looking out for her dad, it only made me happier.

Harin was a good kid. That one rotten boyfriend gave her father ulcers, but compared to other households I might actually have it pretty easy as a dad.

"What kind of person… was Mom?"

"Hm?"

Was Harin finally opening up? She asked about Yu Jiyeon again.

"Your mom was… incredibly pretty. Not as pretty as you, but she was famous as the prettiest girl in the neighborhood."

"I-I'm not pretty at all."

"What do you mean you're not pretty? It's not just your dad's eyes. Everyone thinks so."

I might have lost a little objectivity, but she didn't fall short of Hyeonji or Eunju wherever she went. Eunju-ssaem was off the charts, of course—exception to the rule.

Whether she was weak to compliments or not, Harin's face went bright red and she pretended to look somewhere else. I kept right on talking about Yu Jiyeon.

"She was tall, and her figure was amazing. Probably half the kids in the neighborhood had a crush on your mom. She could've pulled off any outfit, but her family was poor, so she was always frustrated about that. Buying her clothes just once was my dream… and now that I've bought them for you instead, I'm sure your mom's happy too."

"You keep talking about Mom…"

"Huh? Wasn't that what you wanted to know?"

"…"

Harin had stopped listening. She suddenly halted, her gaze locked on a pair of sandals reflected in a shop window.

They were strappy sandals with a fairly high heel. A little mature for a student like Harin—but they would have looked perfect on the Yu Jiyeon of today.

"Want them?"

"I was just looking. Let's go home."

Harin shook her head like the idea was ridiculous. Because the sign hanging above the window read HERMES.

Even buying clothes from a brand I'd never heard of had required massive buildup. If I tried to buy her luxury goods like this, she'd have a heart attack.

And I had no intention of forcing it past her stubborn resistance. Not yet, anyway…

Vroom~

With the day's schedule complete, we headed home. A rich day that had wildly exceeded my original goal of laying groundwork to find Harin's roots.

Every time I checked the paper bags sitting side by side in the back seat, I felt full enough to skip ten days of meals. And then Harin put the final crown on it.

"I'm sorry…"

"Hm?"

"The parent-teacher conference. I'm sorry I filled out the consent form without even showing it to you."

"…"

She confessed the secret that had been gnawing at her conscience for the past week. Seriously—why was everything going so smoothly today?

"You don't have to apologize. I know why you didn't show me. I was planning to send Aunt in my place anyway. So… next time something like that comes up, just tell me honestly what's bothering you."

"Thank you… for everything you do for me."

"…"

I keep telling you I haven't done anything. Still, I wanted to take a little advantage of how apologetic she looked—enough to make a person squirm.

"Then could you do one thing for Dad?"

"What…?"

"Those clothes. Could you show me you wearing them? I might not get another chance to see."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

The people who would see her in those clothes wouldn't be me. Jihye or Hani, or maybe the boyfriend.

She'd opened her heart, but the discomfort wouldn't vanish in a single day. So just in case, I really wanted to see it myself.

"I'll try them on at home…"

Fortunately, Harin agreed. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Or maybe it was my imagination, but it looked like she'd been waiting for me to ask.

We arrived home. Harin went to her room to change, and I prepared the peach iced tea she liked.

Bzzz!

Something arrived to interrupt our quiet father-daughter Saturday night. I checked my phone and saw the name Hwang Jinho.

"…"

That was what this was about? Sure, we'd made that promise, but it had been so long ago I'd figured it had fizzled out.

And dropping it on me the night before with zero prior contact—what was he playing at? More importantly, now was not the time for me to be meeting women.

"H-hyung? This is awkward. It was so long ago I thought the whole thing was dead?"

"You little shit, the plans are already made—what am I supposed to do? Don't tell me you're trying to flake? You want to watch hyung lose face?"

You're the one who made the plans without telling me! Right now I just wanted to focus on Harin.

Of course the real reason was that I'd found out Eunju-ssaem didn't have a boyfriend…

"Haa… Fine. Where do I go tomorrow? Yeah… there? Kwon Sehee-ssi? I just show up and say I'm there to meet her, right?"

I took down Jinho hyung's instructions, then click. I hung up and turned around.

"Huh? When did you come out?"

Harin had finished changing ages ago. But I had no leisure left to admire my daughter's new outfit.

Because her expression had gone stone-hard. The world's cutest baby kitten was gone; in its place a half-starved alley cat abandoned by its owner was glaring daggers at me.

"Tomorrow… you're meeting a woman?"

"Huh?"

In that instant I sensed total disaster. This kid had overheard the call.

Granted, Harin had clearly given me permission to date freely. But like me—like everyone—a person's heart tends to waver back and forth, doesn't it?

"No, see, what happened was…"

"Is that why you bought me clothes? Because you felt guilty?"

"Hey, that's not it. This whole appointment was just—"

Thud-thud-thud! Bam! Click-click!

That was as far as I got. As if further excuses were unnecessary, Harin bolted straight into her room and locked the door.

Why does it always turn out like this? Now it really looked like I'd been nice to her out of a guilty conscience because I was planning to bring home a stepmom.

The tower I'd spent months carefully building had collapsed. No wonder everything had gone so smoothly today.