Strangers
After finishing every last bite of the dinner Mother had prepared, I slowly rose from my seat.
"Leaving already? Why not stay a little longer?"
"It was delicious. I'm heading home to wash up and sleep."
In the old days I would have just planted myself right here. I would have stuck to her side, asking one by one whether she had packed everything for tomorrow, whether she had forgotten anything. My rice bowl and my blanket both lived in this house, after all.
The house that actually bore my name sat just over a single wall, yet its lights were always out. Tonight, though, I simply ate and stood up.
She came scurrying out of her room the moment she heard my voice.
"Ji-an, you're leaving already?"
"Yeah. See you tomorrow."
"Why are you trying to leave so early today?"
She pouted. Once upon a time that single pout would have dropped me straight back into my chair, keeping watch beside her until late into the night. Tonight I simply slipped on my shoes.
"Go to bed early. Don't be late in the morning."
The night air outside was cold.
Mother's house always had its lights on and smelled of cooking. Just over the wall, my house always sat dark. Mother would not return for another month, and until then the only ones guarding that vast place were the servants.
When I opened the front door a servant scolded me for being late, then promptly withdrew to their own room. Once more I was alone in the wide house. After washing up and sitting at my desk, the day finally felt finished.
Even with people present, this house was always this quiet. It had not been much different when Mother was home. If Mother's house bustled with the smell of rice and her voice, this house remained exactly as it had been before I opened the door, no matter when I arrived.
Since childhood I had only slept here and spent every other hour at Mother's. Knowing full well there was no warmth, today I had turned my steps this way anyway.
I opened the book I had borrowed from the library that afternoon—the one Kim Seol-ah had loudly insisted contained a twist. Up to the halfway mark I had been indifferent, yet the further I read the stranger the story became.
The claim that this author's specialty was pretending to know everything only to sucker-punch the reader kept floating before my eyes.
With nothing for my hands to do, the entire evening hung empty and weightless.
The last time I had been left alone in this house I had filled every minute with workbooks. The sequence of finishing dinner, checking her homework, then opening my own had sunk so deep into my body that even without anyone to check on, my hands automatically reached for a book.
I had diligently solved those same problems every night, though there was nothing new left to learn.
Tonight a novel sat in that place. Simply reading something that was neither homework nor study did not feel like doing anything at all, and my fingers kept itching. Until now this hour had always been spent taking care of something; with that entire purpose gone, sitting still by myself felt awkward.
Looking back, these hands had been looking after her for a very long time. A habit worn into the body for roughly twenty years was not going to fall away just because I had finally made up my mind. Even after deciding in my head to step back, my hands kept trying to move according to the old pattern.
I had turned only a couple of pages when my phone buzzed. Park So-yeon.
A few more messages went back and forth before Park So-yeon abruptly changed the subject.
Before I could even answer, a call came through. The second I picked up, Park So-yeon's voice poured out.
"Hurry up and get in. I already picked the stage."
"When did I say I was playing?"
"I can't clear this alone without a shield. Come on."
Grumbling, I still launched the game. Just like that afternoon, Park So-yeon immediately started barking orders into my ear. Block left, watch behind—listening to her chatter, I somehow cleared a stage before I knew it.
The room that had been empty grew a little noisier. I did not mind.
When I was with Park So-yeon there was nothing to weigh or calculate. Beside her I had spent entire days reaching out and pulling back, shoulders tight with tension; here there was none of that. All I had to do was let the character on the screen take the hits for me, and my heart felt lighter for it.
The next stage proved harder than expected. While Park So-yeon crashed into everything up front, I blocked for dear life from behind. We barely scraped through, and she let out a triumphant shriek.
"See? Our teamwork's perfect."
"Teamwork my ass. I died twice keeping you alive."
"That's what a shield is for. Taking the hits up front instead."
I snorted a laugh at that.
While we waited for the loading screen, Park So-yeon casually asked,
"So you're not sleeping at Han-gyul's tonight?"
"Yeah. I came home."
"What's the occasion? You're usually glued there."
"She needs to start doing some things on her own. I can't keep looking after everything forever."
Silence stretched for a moment. Only the game's background music filled the line.
"...Yeah. I guess so."
Normally she would have piled on ten more remarks, yet that night her reply was strangely short.
The next stage began and Park So-yeon grew loud again. She scolded me for missing the left side, blamed me whenever her character died, and still crowed with excitement every time we cleared a round. I had no idea what thrilled her so much, but hearing that voice made the empty room feel a little less empty.
When I checked the clock, quite a bit of time had passed. Alone I would have turned off the lights and lain down long ago, yet like this I never even noticed boredom. Maybe it was simply that a human voice circulating through an empty house felt novel after so long.
We cleared a few more stages that way. After the last one, Park So-yeon spoke through a yawn.
"Okay. That's enough for today. I'm going to sleep."
"Yeah. Good night, So-yeon."
"See you tomorrow."
"Yeah. See you tomorrow."
With those words the call ended. The room fell quiet again.
I reopened the book. The story was just beginning to turn itself inside out. Every character was hiding something; only the protagonist remained completely in the dark.
In the end I finished the entire book. Closing the last page, I found myself wondering what loud claims Kim Seol-ah would make about this ending and how Park So-yeon would tease me about it.
I fell asleep thinking I would bring it up with both of them first thing at school tomorrow.
He will never know, not even if he dies, that it took me thirty minutes just to send "What are you doing right now?"
Only four syllables. While I typed them and erased them over and over, my fingertips shook.
Woo Han-gyul had always been at his side. His eyes had always been turned toward Woo Han-gyul. For ten years I had watched that back from a single step behind.
All that time, instead of saying I liked him, I had carefully chosen only teasing words.
If I offered my true feelings straight out, he would obviously feel burdened.
So I always wrapped that heart in jokes and handed it over like candy. He accepted it readily enough, yet he never once knew what was inside. Because I had never unwrapped it for him to see.
After doing that for ten years, even I had forgotten how to peel the shell. I no longer remembered what a serious face looked like in front of him, and any words that were not jokes always got swallowed again at the tip of my throat.
Even when I wanted to say one earnest thing, I covered it with more nonsense for fear that even this ridiculous place of mine would turn awkward.
Lately, though, I could see him slowly pulling his gaze away from Woo Han-gyul. The morning clinging had been peeled off, and tonight he had not even slept at that house.
Others might not notice, but I knew. The way he used to take Woo Han-gyul's bag, the way he used to pick out side dishes for her—he was letting go of those things one by one. Only someone who had watched from behind for ten years could catch the change.
Seeing it, a wicked hope lifted its head for the first time in my life. Once those eyes completely left Woo Han-gyul, maybe then a chance would come my way too, just once.
And right after that, fear arrived. Because lately Kim Seol-ah kept appearing at his side. Not someone who tossed jokes from behind like me, but a girl who said everything she meant and even went to eat meals with him.
I had spent ten years hiding everything under the name of consideration, while someone that direct was claiming the space beside him step by step. If I had been honest each time, would anything have been different? Every time that thought rose, Kim Seol-ah felt a little enviable and a little hateful.
And then, without fail, I felt sorry toward Woo Han-gyul. Woo Han-gyul was my friend too. I had watched from right beside her how much she leaned on him with that frail body. I knew what place he occupied in her world.
Moreover I had noticed long ago what kind of heart lived in the eyes Woo Han-gyul turned toward him—the heart she herself still did not understand.
One word from me and she would know at once, yet I kept my mouth shut to the end. The moment Woo Han-gyul recognized her own feelings, the seat beside him would belong to her forever.
Knowing all of that, I still treated his stepping back as my opportunity. I covered up the heart my friend was spilling and pretended not to see. I knew exactly how rotten that was, and I did it anyway.
Even after sending the text asking what he was doing, I hesitated a long while before finally pressing the call button. Hearing his voice directly took several times more courage than sending letters on a screen.
Using a single game round as an excuse, I monopolized him for a whole hour in the evening slot Woo Han-gyul used to fill. I felt sorry, and still that was the greediest thing I did today.
Just before hanging up I said, "See you tomorrow." He answered the same way he always did, casual and light: "Yeah. See you tomorrow."
To him it was only a passing greeting, yet I always secretly load the exact same wish onto those four syllables. I did it again tonight.
Tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that—please let me stay by your side.