Saturday Evening
I woke from a sweet afternoon nap.
It had been the kind of sleep that left my eyelids strangely heavy.
"...Ugh."
Sitting up, I felt a dull ache in my neck. You'd think by now I'd have figured out how to sleep on a sofa without wrecking myself.
"...?"
I glanced toward the window and found only darkness looking back at me.
What the hell.
It's night?
"Eight o'clock?"
The clock's hands pointed straight at eight.
I was pretty sure I'd closed my eyes around two in the afternoon.
Damn it.
Had I really slept nearly six hours straight?
Where was Yuna?
Had she eaten on her own?
I'd figured if she got hungry she'd wake me somehow, but she hadn't.
Half worried, I hurried into the master bedroom.
"..."
There on the bed, rolled snugly in a blanket, Yuna was breathing soft and even in her sleep.
Thank god.
You got sleepy too, huh.
Well, of course she was tired. She'd spent the whole afternoon racing around the arboretum paths and talking nonstop.
I slipped quietly back out and headed for the kitchen.
Clink.
No new dishes in the sink — so she hadn't fixed herself a meal.
Wondering if she'd snacked on fruit instead, I opened the fridge, but everything was still in its place.
Thud.
I shut the door and stood there thinking.
Should I wake her and feed her something?
Or just let her sleep? Kids grow while they sleep, or so they say.
But this was the same kid who, just yesterday, had polished off an entire plate of pork cutlet and still tugged at my sleeve at ten at night complaining she was hungry.
If I left her sleeping now, she'd definitely wake up starving in the middle of the night...
Figuring I should put something together, I dug through the fridge again.
"Braised potatoes, stir-fried fish cakes..."
Between snacking on them for breakfast and the occasional lunch I'd pulled out for myself, every side-dish container was scraped nearly clean.
And soup — I just didn't feel like eating any.
"..."
Even the fridge her mother had stocked was starting to hit its limit.
Well, she'd probably only filled it with about a week's worth to begin with.
Thud.
I closed the fridge.
Cooking something at this hour felt off somehow. And there wasn't much left to cook with anyway.
But there was one thing perfect for a moment like this.
I unlocked my phone and opened the delivery app.
A delivery app at eight on a Saturday night was pure hell.
Chicken, pizza, jokbal, malatang, gopchang...
A world overflowing with grown-up food.
God, it all looked amazing.
"..."
If Yuna had been awake, she would've spent a solid half hour agonizing over this screen.
But right now, I was the one choosing.
I had to guess at something she'd actually enjoy.
"...What would she like?"
I ran through everything Yuna had eaten well so far.
Chicken, jjajang rice, galbi, hamburgers, pork cutlet, galbitang.
Wait.
She just eats everything, doesn't she.
Even digging through my memories, I couldn't find a single picky bone in her body.
The closest thing was maybe pouting at a browned apple.
In the end, I went with the king of delivery food.
"Been a while since I've had this."
Pizza.
Kids love pizza. At least they did when I was little.
I skipped the flashy stuff — sweet potato crusts, cheese-stuffed rims — and picked the most basic pie on the menu.
...Or maybe not? Just in case she liked those, I added both.
Spaghetti and fries, too. The pizza was a large, but you never know.
Your order has been received!
And the fact that the delivery address was still set to my own apartment — that was a realization that wouldn't hit me for another thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes after placing the order, that realization arrived.
Which is to say: I had just noticed.
And of course, this was the one time the delivery driver decided to pull out transcendent driving skills.
Your order has been delivered! Enjoy your meal ♥
Along with the app's text — ten minutes earlier than estimated — came a thoughtfully attached photo of the pizza box sitting neatly outside a door.
My familiar front door.
"Ah."
From the app's perspective, of course, everything was working as intended. This was entirely my mistake.
I considered calling the restaurant, but what exactly was I supposed to do about a pizza that had already been delivered?
There was only one option.
Go to my apartment myself and bring the pizza back.
From here to my place was ten minutes by taxi, fifteen at most.
I peeked into the master bedroom.
Yuna was still rolled up in her blanket, sleeping soundly.
A thirty-minute round trip — would she wake up before I got back?
I decided to bet that she wouldn't.
"...Just in case."
I dug a ballpoint pen and a scrap of paper out of a drawer.
Daddy's stepping out for a bit — be right back
She probably wouldn't wake up.
But if she did, this had to be better than her bolting barefoot out the door like last time.
I left the note somewhere obvious on the dining table and slipped quietly out the front door.
I didn't even need the app — a taxi happened to be right there, so I flagged it down and gave the driver my address.
It wasn't a Busan cab, so there was no special command I could enter.
Vroom.
Fortunately, the familiar alley came into view in under ten minutes.
"Right up here is fine."
How long had it been since I'd come home?
Not long at all, actually. I'd been here just the day before yesterday.
I asked the driver to wait a couple of minutes while I ran up, promising I'd tip him for the idle time. He agreed without fuss.
Thud.
I got out, climbed the familiar stairs, and there it was — the pizza bag sitting in front of the door in exactly the angle the app photo had shown.
The box was lukewarm. It had cooled off some.
Well, I could always nuke it in the microwave later...
"..."
Standing at the door, I glanced briefly at the entrance to my room.
No reason to go in. I'd said two minutes.
I picked up the pizza and headed back down the stairs.
The taxi on the way back filled with the smell of pizza.
I could feel the driver flicking glances at me through the rearview mirror.
Sorry about that, I thought, cracking the window and apologizing only inwardly.
"..."
Watching the streetlights slide past outside, I found myself wondering.
Yuna's still asleep, right?
Or has she woken up?
If she has, did she see the note?
Worries I never would have imagined having a week ago occupied me until the taxi pulled up in front of the familiar villa.
Click.
When I opened the door, the living room lights were on.
Well, I'd left them on when I went out.
Or had I?
Come to think of it, I'd only turned on the kitchen light before leaving.
"..."
And that was when my eyes met Yuna's.
She was sitting on a dining chair with a blanket draped over her head, knees pulled up to her chest.
So she had woken up.
"...Daddy."
Spotting me, Yuna slid down from the chair.
In her small hand, the note I'd left was crumpled tight.
"Hey, you're up?"
"...Ung."
She trotted over on quick little steps and caught hold of my clothes.
This time she hadn't cried, and she hadn't run outside.
"You said you'd be right back."
"Yeah. Was I a little late?"
"Praise me."
"Hm?"
Bright, round eyes looked up at me.
"I waited really well, right?"
"..."
Kids really are just kids, I thought.
I set the bag on the table and ruffled her hair vigorously.
"Good job. Look at you, all grown up."
"...Heehee."
I rustled open the pizza bag on the table again.
"Daddy brought pizza. Let's eat once you're fully awake."
"Pizza?!"
Of course she'd like that.
"We're having pizza?!"
"Yep. That's why Daddy went out."
Yuna looked up at me with a face full of pure happiness — then squeezed her eyes shut, broke into a bashful little smile, and threw her arms around me.
She likes pizza that much, huh. I should've bought it more often.
I transferred the pizza slices to a frying pan, let them heat a little, added a spoonful of water, and cooked them some more.
The internet said this was the way to reheat them properly.
Sizzle.
The dough crisped up again in the pan.
Somehow the cheese really did melt back down like it had just come out of the oven.
All hail the internet.
By the time I looked over, Yuna had already washed her face and taken her seat at the table, eyes sparkling at the spread of pizza, spaghetti, and fries.
"Can I eat all of this?"
"You'll probably be full after a few slices of pizza."
Yuna carefully lifted a slice with both hands.
Strrretch—
Watching the cheese pull long and thin, she made little sounds of wonder — mm, mmm — and when it still wouldn't break, she let out a small strained grunt.
"Sooo good..."
After a long wrestling match with the stretchy cheese, Yuna finally claimed her victory.
"Eat slowly."
I added it mostly for form's sake, knowing full well she wouldn't listen.
Sure enough, she promptly began stuffing pizza into her cheeks until they bulged.
Only after three slices plus the spaghetti did she finally start to slow down.
Stuffed to the brim, Yuna eventually raised the white flag at three slices.
The rest of the pizza had been thoroughly enjoyed by me.
Though to be fair, I'd eaten all the fries, so we did end up with a slice or two left over.
We could finish those tomorrow.
I wrapped the leftover pieces and put them in the fridge.
After that, Yuna and I watched a magical girl documentary — something like a day-in-the-life vlog of currently active magical girls.
Probably aimed at a younger audience.
About twenty minutes in, the chattering narration started spacing farther and farther apart, and then a soft little snoring sound drifted up from beside my ribs.
"..."
She really hadn't napped that long earlier.
Full belly, warm room — of course she'd dozed off.
I carried Yuna to bed and came back out to the living room.
On the TV, volume turned low, magical girls were still sparkling away.
Four days left.
Or three, once I woke up tomorrow.
"..."
I stopped counting.