HWP
Mokhwa’s fierce opposition meant I had to eat dinner separately from Eunju’s group. So Eunchae and I headed to a nearby burrito place instead.
“Wooow! Why doesn’t Mokhwa want to eat with you, oppa?”
“Well… aren’t I the one most curious about that, Eunchae? You usually listen pretty well when your friends talk—do you know anything?”
“Wung!? I have no idea at all! Did you stab Mokhwa in the back or something, oppa?”
Stab her in the back? I barely even remembered the last time I’d seen her. In the end Eunchae knew nothing either, and that only made the frustration heavier.
“Come to think of it, Eunchae, have you been hanging out with Harin or Thuy lately?”
“Wung! We hung out last Wednesday.”
“Wait, really? What were they doing, and where?”
“Studying in the library. Eunchae and Thuy kept falling asleep, and it looked like Harin was doing it all by herself.”
“…”
Still stuck on page one of logarithmic functions and she was “studying”? Setting that aside, the fact that they really had been in the library was even more interesting.
No—wait. Harin’s only free day of the week was Wednesday, wasn’t it?
That was why, last time at Aunt’s place, she’d said Wednesday was fine for chicken.
Let’s sort this out. Harin was ridiculously busy Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday—no time to even show up at the reading room—but on her one free day, Wednesday, she spent it studying.
What did that mean?
“Wung… Eunchae’s too full now. Can’t eat any more.”
Eunchae left about a tenth of her burrito and patted her round little belly. If she was only going to leave that much, wouldn’t it have been cleaner just to finish it?
“By the way, Eunchae, you said you were an idol trainee back in elementary school, right? Which company was that?”
“Wow? Oppa likes idols too?”
“Me? I like, uh… HWP.”
Truth was, Eom Chaewon had mentioned them yesterday, so I’d done a quick search. Apparently they were a boy group rising hot right now. Eunchae clapped her hands and answered right away.
“Wung! Eunchae trained there too! I even saw the members back then.”
“Wait, seriously? That means you must’ve been pretty highly regarded. So how come you quit?”
“Wung! That’s because… uugh… m-my head hurts…”
“…!?”
The moment she started talking about her trainee days, Eunchae clutched her head and writhed in pain. This wasn’t ordinary—it looked serious.
“Eunchae, are you okay!? This isn’t good. Let’s get you to a hospital nearby—”
“N-no! Eunchae’s sick of medicine already! Uugh…”
“…”
What was that supposed to mean? This wasn’t some little kid whining about bitter medicine.
It was more like a patient in the middle of severe withdrawal who still refused the drug—spilling out some unfathomable piece of her past.
“O-okay, I won’t make you take any medicine. Let’s just go home and rest for a bit…”
“Wung… it’s a little better now.”
Just like that, Eunchae was free of the headache as if nothing had happened. Maybe thrashing around had made her hungry again; she was already nibbling away at the leftover tenth of her burrito.
What on earth happened to you in the past to leave you with trauma this severe?
We headed back to the library together. I asked her several times if she was really okay and told her to go home and rest, but she insisted on sticking it out to the end—apparently her attachment to studying was stronger than I’d thought.
Hmm… but that put me in a tighter spot. My original goal had been to dig into Harin’s secret.
If Eunchae was this motivated, it felt wrong just to leave her and go off on my own.
“You’re here, oppa?”
The moment we arrived at the library, Eunju came straight up to me as if she’d been waiting. The fact that she’d switched back to “oppa” meant she hadn’t sensed Eunchae yet.
Eunchae? I’m going to talk with Eunju for a bit, so go on in first, okay?
I sent Eunchae inside without Eunju noticing. Eunju tilted her head at me whispering into empty air.
“Can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure. I was going to ask about Mokhwa anyway…”
“There’s a quiet spot behind the building. Let’s go there.”
“…”
Couldn’t we just talk here? But Eunju left those words hanging and started walking ahead.
I had no choice but to trail after her.
We ended up somewhere familiar. It was the exact spot where Hyeonji had fought her three-on-one battle the first time I’d come to this library.
“You’ve gotten really close with Eunchae, haven’t you? Close enough to go out for a meal just the two of you?”
Eunju sat on the bench and immediately fired off a sharp question. Her face looked gentle, but there were thorns hidden in it that I couldn’t ignore.
“Mokhwa said she didn’t want to eat with me, so I just went with Eunchae.”
“But you pretended you weren’t interested in studying while secretly tutoring her, didn’t you?”
“At best it’s a chimpanzee teaching a monkey. She looked like she was struggling, so I helped.”
“So you’re really nothing special to each other?”
“If I had to put a label on it, school seniors and juniors, I guess?”
Of course we weren’t anything like seniors and juniors. I was simply the only one who could sense Eunchae’s existence, so an adult’s sense of responsibility had kicked in whether I liked it or not.
“Haa… so what happened with Mokhwa?”
“That’s what I want to ask. I don’t even remember the last time I saw her. Then today she suddenly says she doesn’t want to eat with me—I’m the one who’s baffled. Didn’t she say anything to you?”
“I asked, but she wouldn’t give details. She just… told me not to trust you. I’ve known Mokhwa a long time, and she’s not the type to hate someone for no reason. Do you really not remember anything?”
Nothing. With Wonhui or Yoona I could maybe invent some grudge, but with Mokhwa there was no structure that would let us fall out no matter what. You know that too—that’s why you’re not just blindly suspecting me, right?
“I just can’t figure it out. Anyway, the library isn’t so bad. Honestly, if we do it at a café, Wonhui and Yoona unnie start goofing off right away.”
“I’ve said it a hundred times—‘café studying’ is a contradiction in terms. You sit there, get distracted by every person walking by, and end up with a head full of random thoughts. J.K. Rowling didn’t just zone out in a café and write Harry Potter for no reason, you know?”
“Pfft… you’re right, oppa. And more than anything, at a café it’s always group activity, so we couldn’t even come out just the two of us like this.”
“That’s… true, I guess?”
If we’d gone to Syndrome, I wouldn’t have been able to sit out back alone with Eunju chatting like this.
Those big eyes wouldn’t have been focused only on me, and I wouldn’t have been able to admire that poreless, pure-white skin up close.
I shook my head hard.
What the hell was I thinking? She was a minor—my daughter’s classmate, no less.
I had no exams to take; I shouldn’t even have been here. And yet here I was, getting all soft over eyes and skin just because I’d managed a sweet little atmosphere alone with Eunju out back. What was I doing?
“So was the amusement park fun?”
“That place? Well… the kid was so little there wasn’t much she could ride. But just walking around seemed fun enough.”
“You didn’t put on one of those character headbands or anything, did you?”
“Th-that… my niece loves that stuff so much I didn’t have a choice…”
“I’m so curious! Did you take any pictures?”
“…”
Of course I’d taken pictures. But if it was anyone else I might show them—Eunju? Absolutely not.
“Ah, I didn’t take any. It’s so rare for me to go out with my niece that I completely forgot about photos.”
“You took them but you’re hiding them because you think I’ll tease you, right?”
“It’s really not like that. Next time I take some, I’ll show you.”
Of course there would be no “next time,” but I deflected for now. Eunju, however, immediately poked at another blind spot I hadn’t expected.
“What about other pictures? I’m curious what your niece looks like.”
“None. I really, genuinely hate taking photos more than most people.”
“Even so, there’s no way you don’t have a single one? Or are you just deliberately not showing me?”
“Of course not. If I ever take any, you’ll be the first to see them.”
“…”
Eunju didn’t seem to believe me. Her face turned a little sulky and she pushed out those signature chick-like lips.
“It hurts my feelings whenever you do this, oppa. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like you’re just pretending to put up a wall—it feels like you’re sincerely keeping your distance.”
“…”
Eunju seemed to have the wrong idea. I wasn’t pretending to put up a wall; I really was keeping distance from her.
To be precise, the distance between a parent and his daughter’s classmate. Of course the current situation itself already violated that taboo quite a bit, but at least I was trying.
“Distance… is something you should keep with everyone, right? Take family, for example. Even a total daughter-obsessed dad can make the other person feel burdened if he tries to get too close.”
“If it’s a dad and daughter… then yes. But we’re not that, are we?”
“S-seniors and juniors are the same, I think?”
“Just seniors and juniors?”
“…”
Why was Eunju saying things like this? Come to think of it, the look in her eyes when she looked at me had grown especially deep lately.
Figuratively speaking, of course. If there were actual holes in her irises I’d have dragged her to a hospital first. The “depth” I meant was something further inside.
Her heart, for instance…
“Th-then should we head back in? Wonhui might start getting weird suspicions again.”
Instinctively sensing danger, I tried to stand. But grab! Without any warning Eunju caught my hand.
Huh? What did she just grab?
“…”
A brief silence fell. I was stuck in an awkward half-standing, half-sitting posture and turned my eyes toward her; Eunju looked straight at me and spoke.
“You’ll… walk me home later, right?”
Why would I? Sure, as a parent I had a duty to see my daughter’s classmate safely home.
But Eunju didn’t know that. To her I was just a school senior studying for the same exams.
So why was she holding my hand with eyes that looked like something Yu Minjeong would do and saying something like that?
A sudden fear crept in. What if Eunju saw me as more than just a senior?
What if the almost forced reasons she kept inventing to create chances to meet me had a different purpose? Then how was I supposed to respond?
“O-of course.”
My mouth moved on its own, ignoring all reason. Only then did Eunju look relieved; she rose with a small smile still on her lips.
She just still wouldn’t let go of that hand.
9:45. We left the library a little before closing. I’d pushed for it because I figured it would be bad if we overlapped with the time Harin came back.
The problem was that Harin still hadn’t returned even by then. My daughter was out wandering during exam period, and her father was busy tutoring her friend…
Clomp, clomp…
And that wasn’t the end of it. The promise with Eunju had been kept so naturally that now the two of us were walking alone toward her house.
“You were only with Eunchae the whole time. Wonhui said several times that you two looked suspicious.”
“Wonhui would check the gender first even if I were playing with a neighborhood dog. Eunchae just looked so eager about studying that I couldn’t leave her alone.”
“But you didn’t study a single thing yourself, did you? What are you even planning to do? Around this time next year you won’t even be a student anymore.”
Somehow the positions of parent and student felt reversed. An eighteen-year-old Eunju worrying about the career path of a thirty-four-year-old me was deeply ironic.
“Eh, it’ll work out somehow.”
“Haa… I’ve long accepted that you’re the playful type. But at this point, can’t you give me a serious answer?”
Eunju stopped walking and blocked my path. But no matter how earnest her eyes were, I didn’t have a “future.”
“Haa… sorry, Eunju. But there are plenty of companies that hire high-school graduates. In Incheon there are a bunch of small shipping companies—if you can handle basic paperwork and light arithmetic, they’ll at least pay minimum wage.”
“Shipping companies? Oppa, you’re not still thinking about going to sea, are you? I’ve told you so many times not to do that, of all things.”
Eunju’s voice was rising little by little. Going around the same hamster wheel and always ending up back at “ships” was clearly starting to irritate her.
“Eunju? I appreciate you worrying about me, but I think that career counselor scared you too much. It’s not as dangerous as you think. Ships these days are sturdy and the safety equipment is really good…”
“And what if you run into pirates? Don’t you know that no matter where you go, the scariest thing is always people?”
“Wait, where did you even hear pirate stories…”
“Anyway, I don’t want to waste time on the same conversation over and over. I clearly said I hate it. This isn’t just your problem alone—why are you trying to decide everything one-sidedly?”
“What do you mean… who else is supposed to decide my future if not me? You’re the one spouting things you heard somewhere without knowing anything—”
“What did you just say?”
“…”
I didn’t think I’d misspoken. But words tossed out casually can become fatal daggers to someone else.
That was exactly Eunju’s reaction now. She looked at me—who was trying to decide my future against her opposition—with a betrayal I’d never seen before, and that gentle expression twisted.
“Eunju, I just…”
“You’re the one spouting nonsense without knowing anything? That’s what I want to say to you. Do you even know what the sea is like? Do you have any idea how many people set out full of longing every year and come back with their hearts broken? How can you say something like that?”
“Th-that… you have a point, and I know all that too, but you’re just worrying too much…”
“What’s more meaningless than telling someone not to worry when they’re worried? You talk like I don’t even have the right to worry about you. I already lost my dad, and now if you—”
“Huh?”
“…”
Eunju clamped her mouth shut. But she couldn’t close off her tear ducts.
Roll…
A single tear that had been held back for a long time slid down her cheek. Even knowing she’d misspoken, she refused to look away and shot me a resentful gaze for continuing my one-sided talk to the end.
“Your dad… was a sailor?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“He died at sea. That’s why you know so much about ships. That’s why you react so sensitively every time I bring up anything related to them.”
“I’m leaving.”
Whirl! Eunju spun around and walked forward. But you didn’t think I was just going to let you go, did you?
Dash! I quickly blocked her path. Then grab! I caught both her hands so she couldn’t run.
“I’m sorry, Eunju! I had no idea…”
Looking back now, it was simple logic. No matter how dedicated a career counselor was, they wouldn’t dig into the ugly details of life at sea that thoroughly.
Eunju’s late father had been a seaman just like me. Like so many others, he’d probably lost his life to a single momentary mistake—and that was why Eunju hated the sea so much.
Sniffle…
Eunju gave no answer. She only forced herself to breathe in, trying to hold back the rising tears.
Softly…
But no matter how hard she tried to be strong, she was still just a child. Because of someone like me she’d dredged up a past she never wanted to touch, and she’d lost her balance.
Like that, she let go of herself—collapsing, shattering. And she fell, aimed precisely into my arms.