Tying the Knot
After a long time, I take out a suit. Since the company is usually casual, my hands feel clumsy as they fasten the buttons. Still, I have the title of guardian. I can’t just show up dressed like a slob. My niece’s face would suffer if her uncle wandered around looking shabby.
After the mock exams, the news kept churning out stories about college admissions. How difficult they were. How many killer questions had appeared. How they ensured proper differentiation. With a high-school senior in the house, these were topics I couldn’t ignore. Yerin insisted every time I asked that she had it all under control, but it wasn’t that simple. Early admission, regular admission, minimum grades, essay tests. I rummaged through memories that had faded after more than ten years and eventually contacted her homeroom teacher. I asked if a consultation about Yerin’s college plans would be possible.
“So you’re really coming to school?”
Yerin clings to my side while I choose a tie.
“Yeah. I’m going to meet your teacher and ask about a few things. Your samchon doesn’t know anything about this stuff.”
The landscape shifts every time—when I went to college, when Min-a went, and now when my niece is going. The truth that you have to study hard remains unchanged, but even so, I need to understand how the policies are flowing. She’s my one and only niece. I have to do this for her. Samchon will have to run around and do the legwork.
“What about the company? Doesn’t everything fall apart if you’re not there?”
“I used my vacation days. And it’s not that bad. There are plenty of people there.”
Deputy Kim. You’ve been taking a lot of time off lately, haven’t you? Is something going on?
As soon as I handed the form to HR, Min-a was the first to rush over and greet me. The way she tilted her head and asked for the full story was her way of demanding a proper explanation. When I mentioned my niece, she surprisingly let me go without a fight.
Well… once Yerin’s college admissions are over, we’ll finally have time to think about our own marriage. Wouldn’t it be better for you to look into it with an easy mind, oppa? Let’s get our niece accepted quickly. I’ll cheer you on.
Her calculations are flawless, as always. She even adds some ambiguous well-wishes—or complaints—about how my sister’s daughter is such an amazing kid that she’ll easily get into whatever university she wants.
Of course she’s amazing. She has the guts to fight that terrifying sungmo and the skill to toy with a samchon who’s much older than her.
Anyway, the women in our family have incredible guts.
“Lies. Everyone there has rocks for brains and just clings to samchon, don’t they? Do this for me, Deputy Kim. Do that for me, Deputy Kim. Idiots. They could figure it out themselves, but they bother our samchon every single day. What, do they not have hands or feet?”
The moment she finishes speaking, Yerin snatches the tie from my hands.
“It’s not that bad. If it were, the company would have gone bankrupt and I’d have been unemployed ages ago. By the way, do you even know how to tie one?”
Min-a had struggled with it too before giving up. I’d pulled the tie out in a hurry for an important meeting once, and she’d insisted she could handle it only to surrender in the end.
“Just a second. Let me see… I’ve watched Mom tie Dad’s a few times. Samchon, can’t you just go like this? It actually looks good on you.”
On tiptoe, Yerin fumbles with the fabric around my neck, trying to shape a ribbon.
“Hey. That’s how you tie shoelaces.”
“I tie gift wrapping like this too. We can just say samchon is a present for me.”
“You really have a way with words.”
I bend my knees so she can reach more easily, and our faces draw close.
She smells like a puppy.
Somehow warm. Somehow sweet. She’s already almost twenty, so she wouldn’t have that milky baby scent, but still. We’ve never been able to keep pets because of our circumstances, yet I imagine this is exactly how a puppy that had just finished nursing would smell when held in your arms.
“If samchon teaches me… I’ll do it for you from now on.”
After a long struggle, Yerin finally raises the white flag. She unties the clumsy ribbon around my neck and looks at me again.
“Wait. Relax your hands and follow what I do. Don’t grip so tight.”
I place my hand over the back of hers. Like this, then like that. As if conducting an orchestra.
“Stay loose. Don’t add any strength.”
“If I move, you have to move with me. Why are you so stiff when you’re still so young?”
“Then what am I supposed to do? Like this?”
“Kek. Kek. Hey!”
Yerin wraps the tie around my neck like a scarf. When I exaggerate my choking, she bursts into a bright smile and strokes my throat with her thumb.
“Now I tied it properly, right?”
After several rounds of practice, Yerin learns to tie a reasonably decent knot. Even so, once it’s securely fastened, she shows no intention of letting me go. She still clings to my shirt, nestled against my chest. I don’t urge her away either. Even though both of us are incredibly busy—far busier than most people—we act as if we have all the time in the world.
“That’s true. Later… when you get married and have a husband, you can tie his like you practiced today.”
It feels awkward to meet her eyes, so I say something I don’t really mean. I had once promised myself that when Yerin got married, I would be the one to take her hand and give her to her husband… but now I’m not so sure. When she introduces a boyfriend or a man she wants to marry, I wonder if I’ll truly be able to greet him with pure intentions. I might just swing a fist at a complete stranger.
It’s a long way off. No one knows what will happen.
Right now she follows me everywhere, but once she enters university, she probably won’t even think about her samchon. The world is full of handsome men, and if they have working eyes, they’ll naturally set their sights on my niece, the most beautiful girl in existence.
“Does samchon want me to get married?”
She tugs on my tie, sliding it back and forth. The knot I just tied is coming loose again.
“I just… I don’t know. If a good person appears… well…”
The words don’t come easily. This must be what a father feels. My brother-in-law in heaven probably felt the same. The fate of a man who has a beautiful daughter. Or a beautiful niece. Just thinking about some bastard taking my niece away already makes my blood boil.
“Besides, I have zero plans to get married. I’m going to live with samchon forever.”
“Hey. You’ll have to become independent someday. I can’t take care of you your whole life.”
“Why not? You said you wouldn’t get married for my sake.”
“I said I’d put it off… that’s different…”
With a sharp flick, Yerin yanks the tie from my grasp and hurls it away. The fluttering piece of cloth finally stops moving.
“Samchon isn’t getting married anyway. You said you’d feed me. When samchon gets old and starts losing control of his bowels, I was going to stay by your side and take care of you until the day you die.”
“There you go again, talking nonsense. Go get ready for school.”
“How is that nonsense? I’m saying I’ll take care of samchon. I’m saying I’ll be responsible for your old age.”
She has me by the tail of my words, growling and refusing to let go.
“Or were you planning to send me away once enough time passes?”
“Hey. Send you away? Just… if you meet a good person somewhere… then… then I’ll…”
The words freeze in my throat. I don’t even know myself. Whether, as her samchon, I simply don’t want her to have a man in her life. Or whether…
No. Absolutely not. Not to my own niece, of all people. Not to the person I should protect the most.
“Then if no good person appears for me, I can keep living with samchon. That’s what you just said. After all, men are all wolves, so samchon has to protect me. In return, I’ll protect you. Mutual aid. It’s good for you too, right?”
Her footsteps move away from me. I wonder where she’s going, but she takes my suit jacket from the hanger and holds it out.
“Don’t kick the blankets later and say it’s embarrassing. Seriously, why did I ever say something like that to samchon back then?”
“We’ll see about that.”
The casual chatter that began with a necktie ends. We step into the elevator. The way our shoulders line up, the occasional brush of our hands, the fleeting touch of our sleeves—it feels like the perfect distance for us right now. Not too close for an uncle and niece. Not too far, either. Close enough to reach with an outstretched hand. But a hand that must never actually reach out. Because we are uncle and niece. It’s fine to care for each other, but nothing more.
“Samchon.”
“Yeah.”
While pressing the button and finding our spots, the backs of our hands touch again. Softly. Just softly.
“I just felt like calling you.”
The contact happens too often to call it accidental. Softly. In an elevator that barely shakes, Yerin’s hand refuses to stay still.
“You’re so silly.”
“How do you act salty, then?”
“Like your sungmo does.”
“That’s not salty… that’s spicy, isn’t it? Or bitter.”
“Whatever it is, it definitely has flavor.”
“What kind of comparison is that?”
After we board the elevator, we both stare straight ahead. One by one, neighbors join us as the morning commute overlaps. Exchanging greetings, we gradually shift farther into the corner. Before long our shoulders are completely pressed together. Yerin’s fingers dance across the back of my hand like she’s playing piano. Tap, tap. One, two. One, two. Then—
!
She suddenly grabs my hand tightly, all while pretending nothing is happening. Still looking forward. Still showing no sign at all. This delicate hand. This slender hand… One, two. I curl my own fingers in response. Our hands interlace. And so, in the packed elevator, we don’t let go of each other until we reach our floor. No one else knows. Only the two of us.