Chapter 85: Side Story - Mother (6)
Chapter 85: Side Story - Mother (6)
There was no one to answer my confusion. Even Mother didn't seem to have any intention of resolving the questions I held.
I simply continued the meal with her, still puzzled, and stood up from the table once I felt sufficiently full.
"I’m feeling a bit of motion sickness, so why don't we walk back?"
I was surprised by her suggestion.
What about the car?
It was only natural to worry. A person can get home on their own, but a car doesn't have that kind of functionality.
When my concern showed on my face, Mother was already one step ahead, having read my thoughts.
"It’s close to home. I’ll come back and pick it up tomorrow when I go out for my exercise."
"Ah."
If it was close to home, there was nothing to worry about. Since Mother tended to go out for exercise every day, I calculated that the car could be recovered quickly, no matter how long it stayed here.
"What about the parking fees?"
"It’s a public lot."
"Even if it’s public, isn't there a fee?"
I recalled the gate-like structure I had clearly seen when passing the parking lot. I also had the parking discount voucher we received when leaving the restaurant.
"I’ll just pay it."
"No, I mean..."
I meant that I felt bad about her spending money unnecessarily because of me, but Mother seemed to take it in an entirely different way. As if to say it was no big deal, she began to walk, the sound of her heels clicking on the pavement.
The loyal vehicle that had carried Mother and me all day was left cold and lonely in the parking lot. Feeling a pang of pity for the car, I followed after her.
The fallen night had cooled and turned a deep black, staining the streets, while the orange glow of the streetlamps filled every corner of the path.
As Mother led the way and I followed behind, a strange sensation washed over me.
I couldn't quite put my finger on what the feeling was or how to describe it, but it was unique.
It was an intuition that this felt less like a mother-son stroll or a trip, and more like an escape.
I couldn't exactly trace the logic of why I felt that way.
Lacking the will to try, I simply followed Mother with a vague sense of purpose.
Mother was walking with her hands almost clasped behind her back. Her handbag swayed from her hand, and I stared blankly at it as I thought.
To be honest, I didn't want to go to the military. Who in the world would want to go to a conscripted military?
But there was no helping it. I had absolutely no choice in the matter.
It would be one thing if there were a way to avoid it, but based on the brief research I’d done, the requirements to get out of service these days were incredibly tight.
You had to be so poor that your entire family would literally starve to death if you went.
Or be a total orphan with no parents.
Or be a middle school dropout.
Or be missing at least two fingers, or a testicle, or an eye, and so on.
For someone like me who wasn't born with any of those conditions, obtaining an exemption would require a great deal of sacrifice.
In that situation, the only possibility I saw was having two or more children...
But even that was only a "possibility" because it could be achieved after birth; with no partner and no time, it was practically impossible.
Because of that, I hadn't even considered a military exemption.
It was beyond sour grapes; it was "God grapes."
Just as humans merely look up at God and never dream of grasping Him, I too rejected the "God grapes" of military exemption. I knew all too well that divine punishment awaited those who profanely lusted after them.
That was why I couldn't easily understand what Mother said next.
"Do you want to go to the military?"
"...No."
Of course I didn't. But hadn't she asked me if I hated the idea of going just a moment ago? It was hard to grasp her intent in rephrasing a question she had already heard the answer to several times, so I couldn't read her mind.
"Then, why are you trying to go?"
"Because there’s no way out."
Perhaps Mother didn't know because she was a woman.
Then again, unless you're a man, you don't usually take the issue of the military seriously enough to look into it.
I decided to be understanding. To put it bluntly, it wasn't like understanding her or not would change anything.
So I was just going to let it slide.
"What if there was a way?"
Mother said something that was impossible to ignore.
I lifted my head, which had been hanging blankly, and turned my gaze toward her.
Words that were impossible to dismiss. Something that felt even sweeter than a devil's temptation.
But how?
Ah, maybe.
"Is one of our ancestors a person of national merit...?"
"No, we don't have anyone like that."
Oh, no? Then how?
"Then... are you going to take my ligament or my finger...?"
I had to swallow my words and shut my mouth mid-sentence.
That was because Mother looked startled by my words, her eyes widening unusually large as she shook her head vigorously.
It was quite a violent reaction.
To the point where...
"I'm sorry. That was a slip of the tongue."
I ended up apologizing like that.
Still, I thought, Mother is still Mother, while simultaneously wondering exactly what kind of method could possibly exist to avoid the military.
Wondering if there was a feasible plan among the methods Mother might know, I combed through every piece of information in my memory, picking out anything even remotely suspicious.
But nothing came to mind. I couldn't even guess what kind of method she was planning to give me.
That point planted a seed of expectation in me.
Whatever the case, Mother was someone superior to me.
She was more intellectual than me, more of an adult than me.
She was better prepared and more meticulous. In many ways, it felt like it would be much better for Mother to do something on my behalf than for me to do it myself.
So, I looked at her with anticipation.
"Then, what kind of method is it...?"
However, what returned to me, as I waited to hear what brilliant method she had found, was...
"...I can't tell you."
An inexplicable answer.
If she had said she didn't know or gave me a wrong answer, I would have just accepted it, but that wasn't it.
Mother didn't say she didn't know. She said she couldn't tell me.
And when someone says they can't tell you, there are usually several reasons.
Either it's an embarrassing reason, or it's something that would lose its possibility if spoken aloud.
Or perhaps she wasn't certain yet and didn't want to give me false hope, intending to tell me once it was confirmed.
I wondered if it was something like that, but...
"If you could just avoid the military, how far would you be willing to go?"
Mother suddenly threw out a strange question. And I found it difficult to guess exactly what that meant or what she intended by it.
"Pardon?"
"How much can you endure?"
Endure? I felt a chilling, ominous sensation and watched Mother's reaction.
Surely she wasn't telling me to do some kind of criminal social service?
Of course, compared to becoming a eunuch, cutting off a finger, or gouging out an eye, it was relatively better.
But it was only relatively better; in reality, ruining one's life was much the same either way.
"It's not a crime. And it's not self-harm."
"Ah."
Fortunately, Mother seemed to have noticed what I was thinking just by looking at my expression and quickly corrected herself.
It was a relief, but things were still as shrouded in mystery as ever.
Just what kind of method was it that Mother was hesitating this much and couldn't speak of it?
"Why can't you tell me?"
"I can't let you know."
She wouldn't even answer when I asked for the reason. What on earth could it be?
I looked at Mother with a mix of anxiety and wonder. She walked for a bit as if choosing her words again, then turned back to me, pressing down her fluttering hair with her hand.
Her coat billowed along with her hair, and a sweet, pleasant, soft scent—mixed with Mother's characteristic milky fragrance—filled my nasal passages and lungs.
"If you could just avoid the military, could you do anything?"
Mother posed that meaningful question in that state. Could it be immigration, something I had only pushed aside and never seriously considered?
Was it the classic method of dodging the draft through overseas immigration?
Or some trick I didn't know? Perhaps a way to utilize an option I had seen in passing but couldn't even consider?
As I gulped, looking at Mother in my confusion, she pressed me for an answer again.
"Excluding crimes or getting hurt."
I couldn't just keep my mouth shut. If what Mother was thinking was dangerous, it would be right to refuse.
So, I opened my mouth.
"Not everything is okay, but... as long as no one else gets hurt, and as long as it's not breaking the law, I'm okay with anything."
I said it thinking that if it were such a problem, she wouldn't have brought it up in the first place. It was also practically a refusal.
I didn't think I could get out of the military anyway, and there was no guarantee that whatever Mother had thought of was a 100% successful method.
Rather than harboring useless hope and being tortured by it, I thought it might be better to just relax and get the military service over with.
Because of that...
"Yes, it's not a crime, and it's not something where anyone gets hurt. Though... the conditions are a bit tricky."
There was such a method? While puzzled, I felt tense at Mother's determined appearance, and she looked at me, clearly struggling with a great internal conflict.
"It's something that Mom needs preparation for, too. Mental preparation."
"I-is that so?"
"Yes, so..."
Mother seemed to be gauging my reaction, then spoke.
"Do you want to try postponing your enlistment date?"
Postponing an enlistment date isn't actually that difficult. Some say you can postpone it once for even a ridiculous reason, and besides that, there are endless reasons you can use as long as you attach them.
So, I nodded without realizing it.
"...Then, Mom will... look into the method."
Hearing Mother's subtle answer, I felt a sense of unease, but...
There wasn't a son in the world who would refuse when his mother said she would try. I soon nodded my head.
Under the high-hanging moon, Mother's expression was infinitely determined.