Prologue: Three Opportunities in Life
They say that if you live long enough, life grants you three opportunities. I’d already had two. One at seventeen, the other at twenty-four.
At seventeen, a girl who was fairly popular in our class confessed to me. I initially thought it was a rock-paper-scissors penalty, but it wasn’t.
At twenty-four, my business exploded. I’d poured everything into that self-employed venture, and somehow it caught fire through word of mouth.
Huh? So you’re wondering if I’m now living an ordinary, stable life—married, working hard at the shop, all that?
“Ah, fuck.”
As if.
The seventeen-year-old me liked games far more than girls, so I turned her down.
“Don’t give me that crap.”
The chicken shop I’d been running with everything I had at twenty-four… —Fwoosh!
It was less than a month after success had finally arrived. A magical girl had hurled a monster’s corpse from somewhere, and my shop was crushed beneath it, collapsed, and burning to the ground.
The Association tossed me a pathetic scrap of compensation money. They claimed it was because I hadn’t taken out disaster insurance for magical-girl-related incidents. Those fucking Association bastards.
I should have known after they refused to hire me years earlier just because I’d graduated from the botany department.
To cover immediate living expenses, I started a stand-in guest service.
—Ring ring!
It was the most suitable business I could run out of my one-room apartment after the chicken shop burned down. My face also looked older than my actual age, which helped.
Anyway.
This call was from the third customer I’d received since launching the surrogate service.
“Is this the stand-in guest inquiry line?”
...Yes, I saw the posting you put online and decided to contact you...
It was a young woman’s voice. The previous two callers had also been young. I was starting to get the rhythm of it, so I smoothly began reciting the consultation script.
“Yes, in that case…”
I kept going, but there was no reaction on the other end. Well, she was probably in a miserable state herself. I’d anticipated this when I started the business, so I continued the explanation using only the most neutral words possible, careful not to bruise her feelings.
...By any chance, is family surrogate service also possible?
Ah. So that’s why she’d gone quiet.
“If it’s a family surrogate, then…”
...A father. Father surrogate...
I let out a long sigh, making sure it didn’t reach the receiver. Had the profile photo I uploaded made me look that old? Old enough for a twenty-four-year-old to get a father surrogate request?
...You only need to play with the child for one day.
Her voice was so broken it sounded like someone hiring a stand-in for a funeral. Reservations weren’t exactly pouring in, so I decided to take the job. She said she’d contact me again tomorrow with the details.
“Hmm…”
I closed the phone after the call ended and leaned back in my chair. If she just wanted someone to play with her kid for a day, she could have hired a babysitter instead of asking for a father surrogate.
“I never expected to end up doing father surrogate work.”
I glanced at the suit hanging in the closet. Would this involve attending a school event? Well, as long as the money was good. I was simply relieved that the bookings hadn’t dried up.
On the appointed day.
A message arrived in the early evening. The address followed shortly after.
“Closer than I expected.”
I washed up properly, kept the scratchy stubble to lend credibility to the father role, put on the suit, and headed to the address I’d been given.
I’d assumed it would be a school or some official venue, but an ordinary apartment building came into view. Was I really just supposed to play with the kid?
—Ding dong!
With a slightly uneasy heart, I pressed the doorbell and waited. Had she truly called me over just to act as a babysitter? Or were we supposed to head somewhere else together from here?
As I stood there entertaining those thoughts, the door opened.
“…”
Beyond the open door stood a mother and daughter. The mother wore a white blouse and jeans; the little girl was dressed in pink pajamas. The child looked about the age to have just entered elementary school.
“Eh.”
When the girl saw me she made a strange noise and took a step back. A strange man in a suit at the front door had clearly frightened her. Still, she seemed bright and cute. She must take after her mother. So I was just supposed to play with this kid?
“Y-Yoona’s dad… you’re here…?”
Only after hearing those words did the realization hit me again. I really was supposed to be a dad. This was a father surrogate job.