Hunting Season
Yoo Ji-ah looked at the macaron held out before her.
Both hands offered it with careful politeness. The bright, open smile that accompanied the gesture held not a trace of malice or hidden intent.
“...You want me to eat this?”
Ji-ah glanced at the macaron once more and asked.
“...Yes... It’s... delicious...”
“......”
She kept her hands extended. It seemed she would not pull them back until the gift was accepted.
Left with no choice, Ji-ah took the macaron.
Only then did the other girl reach into the bag again, carefully peel the wrapper from another macaron, and bring it to her lips. She parted her small mouth and took a delicate bite.
“Munch munch...”
She chewed with tiny movements of her lips, and a smile soon bloomed across her face, pure happiness written there.
“...I... like cocoa...”
“...What?”
“...So... I didn’t get coffee... I got choco bonbon instead...”
A-reum took another small bite of her macaron, then held it out a little toward Ji-ah.
Watching her, Ji-ah spoke.
“Are you trying to say you eat chocolate-flavored macarons too?”
“...Yes... I eat macarons... chocolate flavor too...”
“......”
“Munch munch...”
“......”
The careful way she held the macaron in both hands, the tiny bites, the quiet joy on her face—all of it stirred something unsettled in Ji-ah’s chest. It was not simply because the girl was eating so happily right in front of her. The atmosphere, the words, the expression, the very manner of eating—everything blended together into that strange feeling.
Before long the macaron she had been nibbling was gone. She lifted the cup and sipped the choco bonbon through the straw, then her gaze settled on the second chocolate macaron still in Ji-ah’s hand.
Why was she staring all of a sudden?
Because I’m not eating it?
The thought made Ji-ah awkwardly raise the macaron to her mouth and take a bite.
A-reum’s head lifted at once. Their eyes met—more intently than was comfortable. Expectation shone there.
“It’s... good.”
As if that single word was exactly what she had been waiting for, the corners of her eyes curved and the same bright smile returned.
Watching her, Ji-ah found herself wondering why Seong-min had brought this person here to introduce them. She was in no mood to meet anyone new right now.
“Seong-min said...”
“...What?”
“...Seong-min said... Ji-ah is a good person... He wants to help her... So... I want to help Ji-ah too...”
“You want to help me?”
Had Seong-min really talked about her to this girl?
“...Seong-min is a good person too... He helped me...”
Ji-ah said nothing. She only watched.
“When Min-hyeok was... in danger... Seong-min... saved him...”
An unfamiliar name appeared.
“Who is that...?”
“Min-hyeok... my little brother... I’m... the older sister...”
The story A-reum began to tell was clumsy in delivery, her speech awkward and faltering. Yet the meaning was clear enough. Ji-ah found herself quietly surprised. It seemed Seong-min had saved this girl’s younger brother Min-hyeok just as he had once saved her.
“...If it weren’t for Seong-min... I... couldn’t live with Min-hyeok again... Min-hyeok came back... thanks to Seong-min... And now... we live as good siblings...”
They were living well together, it seemed.
“...Seong-min... always smiles... When I talk... he listens... while smiling...”
“......”
“...So... I didn’t know... that Seong-min was alone... I didn’t know...”
Alone.
She must have meant that Seong-min was an orphan. The word left a bitter taste in Ji-ah’s mouth.
The feeling of being alone. When she was little she had not truly understood it. She had only felt sorry for the boy who was teased and ignored for having no parents. She had wanted to protect him, to look after him. That pity had been enough then.
Now she understood the loneliness itself, far beyond mere pity. She understood why Seong-min had always seemed so dry, so indifferent. It had been armor. If he sealed his emotions away, no one could wound him for being an orphan. How could pain reach someone who refused to feel it?
Seong-min had looked at himself strictly from the outside, as a third party. That was why the children’s mockery and contempt never truly touched him. He watched himself through other eyes.
Until recently, Ji-ah had lived the same way. Abandon yourself, and the suffering stops. There is nothing left to grieve. You become little more than a living doll—neither more nor less.
“...Seong-min... always smiles... I like... Seong-min’s smile... But... now I know... why he smiles... I know...”
“......”
“...So... like Seong-min said... I want to be friends... I want to help too...”
“Did Seong-min tell you about me?”
The fact that she already knew the name made it obvious, yet Ji-ah asked anyway. She needed to hear it confirmed.
A-reum nodded.
“...Seong-min told me... He was honest... And I understood... Seong-min’s smile... is because of Ji-ah... Because of Ji-ah... he smiles... So... his heart hurts... Seong-min is sad...”
“......”
“...I live hard... I can’t be sad or tired...”
“Why do you live so hard?”
“...If I don’t... Min-hyeok gets sad... If I’m sad... Min-hyeok suffers... I don’t want that...”
“......”
“Seong-min is sad too... When I look at his face... his eyes... I know... He’s very sad...”
Ji-ah already knew the reason was herself.
Without quite realizing it, she kept talking with A-reum. Time slipped by unnoticed until Seong-min stepped back into the room. The call must have ended.
“Sorry. The conversation ran long.”
Ji-ah shook her head.
“Were the macarons good?”
He glanced at the empty wrappers on the floor.
“...Yes... They were delicious...”
A-reum’s face lit with happiness. She took another macaron from the bag, carefully peeled the wrapper, and held it out to him.
“For me?”
She nodded.
“I’ll enjoy it, A-reum noona.”
When Seong-min accepted it and smiled as he ate, A-reum’s own smile bloomed even brighter.
“Did you two talk a lot while I was gone?”
“Yes... We talked a lot...”
A-reum cradled the choco bonbon in both hands, sipped carefully through the straw, then rose from her seat.
“Where are you going?”
At Seong-min’s question her cheeks flushed. She said nothing and simply headed for the bathroom.
“She’s embarrassed.”
Seong-min turned to look at Ji-ah.
“She was going to the bathroom and you asked.”
He studied her for a moment, then gave a wry smile.
“I asked without thinking, huh?”
“That’s right...”
Ji-ah answered, watching him.
Seong-min sat, popped the last macaron into his mouth, and chewed while fishing the remaining iced americano from the bag. He tore open a straw, stuck it in, drank deeply, and set the cup down.
“Seong-min.”
“Yeah?”
“That noona... does she live alone with her little brother?”
“A-reum noona?”
“Mm.”
“Yeah. She has a younger brother named Min-hyeok, four years apart. You heard the story?”
He had no idea what the two of them had discussed while alone.
“I did. That you saved him too.”
Seong-min nodded.
The sound of a toilet flushing reached them. A moment later the door opened and A-reum reappeared.
“...Let’s go to the mart...”
“The mart?”
She nodded.
“I... want to cook for you...”
“Oh~ A-reum noona wants to put out a whole spread?”
“...Yes...”
Her voice was small.
“Then we won’t need to order anything.”
Seong-min looked at Ji-ah.
“A-reum noona’s a great cook. You’ll be surprised when you taste it, Ji-ah.”
When Ji-ah’s gaze shifted to her, A-reum smiled shyly.
“Shall we? The weather’s nice—we can call it a short drive.”
Seong-min took another sip of coffee and stood.
“You get ready too, Ji-ah.”
“Me too...?”
“Of course. We’re all going.”
His expression said the question itself was strange.
“I...”
A hand appeared in front of her. Ji-ah turned. It was A-reum.
“...Let’s go together...”
Looking at the offered hand, Ji-ah took it in silence and rose from the bed. A-reum smiled.
Together the three of them left the apartment, climbed into the car waiting in the parking lot, and set off for the big supermarket. The fine weather had filled the roads with traffic, yet the mood inside the car remained light.
In the back seat Ji-ah watched the blue sky beyond the window. Soft white clouds drifted past like cotton candy, peaceful and calm.
“...Seong-min’s car... is nice...”
Ji-ah turned her head.
“...In summer it’s cool... And now... it’s warm...”
The heater was on, so of course it was. Even so, A-reum smiled as if the simplest comfort were a treasure.
“A-reum noona loves drives. Right, noona?”
“...Yes... I like them...”
“Want to take a loop along the riverside road before the mart?”
A-reum did not answer at once. She looked at Ji-ah instead, as if seeking permission.
“What do you think, Ji-ah?”
Seong-min asked.
“It’s fine.”
“Ji-ah says okay, so a short drive and then the mart it is!”
“...Yes...!”
Was she truly that happy? Watching the older girl answer, Ji-ah thought she looked almost too joyful. No—what she felt was a pure simplicity that could find happiness even in something so small.
Seong-min did not head straight for the supermarket. He slipped onto a side road along the riverside and took them on a brief drive. Most of the talking was his; A-reum answered. Ji-ah spoke now and then, but mostly she listened.
After the drive they stopped at the large mart as planned and bought a whole chicken along with the various ingredients needed for spicy braised chicken. They picked up a few other necessities as well, returned home, put the groceries away, and set to cooking in earnest.
Ji-ah sat on the bed and watched A-reum work. As time passed, a rich, savory aroma filled the room. At last the meal was ready: white rice, side dishes, plates for sharing, and a pot of spicy braised chicken.
“Wow!”
When the lid lifted, the fragrant stew was revealed.
“Pretty impressive, right?”
Ji-ah nodded. It looked delicious just from the sight of it. When she tasted it, the flavor matched.
They ate the meal A-reum had prepared and afterward drank the coffee Seong-min brewed. A-reum, of course, had cocoa—they had bought some at the mart for her.
Time flowed on until at last it was time for her to leave.
“I’ll take A-reum noona home.”
Ji-ah nodded.
She walked with them to the front door and watched A-reum slip on her shoes before speaking.
“Um...”
A-reum turned.
“The spicy braised chicken... was really good.”
“...Yes...”
A shy little smile answered her.
“Then I’ll be going.”
“Yeah.”
Seong-min left with A-reum.
Once the two of them were gone and she was alone again, Ji-ah returned to the bed and sat. An unexpected guest. An unexpected day.
“......”
Her heart felt unsettled.
Seong-min had not brought that noona simply to introduce her. Through their conversation Ji-ah had come to understand. A-reum was not ordinary. The clumsy, halting speech alone made that clear.
And later, when the two of them had been alone, Seong-min had told her more. A-reum lived with only her younger brother Min-hyeok. That much was not especially shocking. What came after was.
Their father’s domestic violence. His gambling. In the end their mother, unable to endure any longer, had taken her own life. Their father had vanished, leaving nothing but gambling debts. How the two siblings had survived afterward—Seong-min had told her all of it.
The story alone was staggering, almost too much to absorb. Yet looking at A-reum, you would never have guessed. She did not look like someone who had lived through such pain.
Ji-ah knew that “someone” was the little brother, Min-hyeok.
At first she had only been bewildered. Why had Seong-min suddenly brought this noona to her? But after spending the day together, she thought she understood a little.
Why he had brought A-reum here.
Yoo Ji-ah’s heart remained unsettled.