Eighteen, Spring Again (2)
Second-year life was far less boring than I'd expected—actually pretty enjoyable in its own way. Classes were definitely tougher than last year, but I was managing to keep my grades about the same. Nothing overwhelming yet, so I wasn't too worried about that. My usual crew was still in the same class, and most of the other kids were friendly enough toward me, so school felt pretty smooth overall.
The biggest change? Kim Yuha was in a different class now. Not just next door, but two classes away, so I barely saw him anymore. Not that he stayed away completely. He'd pop into our classroom like a ghost every break, just to get under my skin. The first week, he showed up every single break and drove me nuts, but then Hyeji straight-up called him out—"Don't you have friends in your own class?"—and after that, it dropped to once or twice a day. My high school sophomore year started off way more peaceful than before.
And today was the weekend. March 14th, White Day. The air outside was as chilly as February's. Spring was here, sure, but winter's tail end hadn't quite let go yet. Like last year, I was planning a quick outing, packing my stuff lightly. "Stuff" meaning just two boxes of carefully wrapped candies, but I double- and triple-checked anyway, just in case I forgot something.
"Oh, Seojini~ Perfect timing!"
I was heading for the door when my sister called out to stop me. I turned to see her sprawled on the living room couch, fiddling with her phone. Tank top and dolphin shorts—total comfort mode. Back in the day, that outfit would've made things awkward, not knowing where to look, but after a few years, I'd gotten used to it.
"What?"
I snapped back curtly, annoyed, and she tapped the couch with her fingers without even looking up from her phone.
"Come here for a sec."
"What now."
"Just come sit down."
She calls me over out of nowhere, and now she wants me to sit? I narrowed my eyes and glared at her for a moment before trudging over to the couch. No point fighting it—she'd just bug me more.
"What's this about..."
I perched reluctantly on the edge of the couch, and that's when she finally grinned wide and thrust her phone up.
"I'm bored. Let's take a selfie~"
"A selfie? Out of nowhere?"
"Yeah~ I scrolled through my gallery, and there's barely any pics of just you and me?"
Her sly grin made me suspicious of her real motives. I stared at her, dumbfounded, and she yanked my shoulder closer with one hand.
"Perfect, hold still... Okay, one~ two~"
Click. No flash, but my eyes still flashed white for some reason. I blinked a few times and looked at her.
"Hmm... It's missing something, but eh, still came out super cute!"
She cackled to herself while checking the photo, then waved me off.
"Okay, you're free to go~"
I was floored. What was even the point? But this was par for the course with her, so I just let it slide. Asking would only tire me out more. I sighed deeply and headed back to the door.
Right as I was about to open it, her voice rang out from behind.
"Oh, right! Seojinaa~!"
"Ugh, what now!"
Her excited tone pissed me off, and I yelled back without thinking.
"Grab some melon bread on the way back~!"
"Argh!"
Fuming, I bolted out without a proper reply. As the front door clicked shut behind me, I faintly heard her muttering inside.
"Heh heh... Sending the pic should get a reaction, right? That guy..."
Whatever. Probably just her usual nonsense. I shrugged it off and hit the elevator button.
*
The fresh air outside cleared my head a bit. Destination: set. That old corridor-style apartment, just like last White Day. The small shopping bag in my hand felt heavier than it should. The candies weren't big—nothing too flashy—but still. I'd thought about getting something fancier, but handing over what I'd prepared myself felt more meaningful. Maybe they'd even figure out who it was from.
The problem? The closer I got, the shorter my breath grew. Was it because of those harsh words from last summer? It wasn't far—walkable—but today, those ten-odd minutes dragged on forever. The same path I took every year felt like a stranger's route.
By the time I entered the apartment complex, my heart was already pounding.
It's fine. Just drop it in the mailbox and go.
I tried to psych myself up, but my fingertips trembled anyway. It happened every year. I'd make it to the mailbox, leave it, and bail. But nothing more. No courage to hit the elevator, no guts to go up.
Probably the same this time. I lingered forever at the familiar building entrance before finally stepping inside. The lobby door thudded shut behind me as I dragged my heavy feet forward.
At the mailboxes, I reached into the bag. Scoped the area first. Double-, triple-checked no one was around. Only then did I shove the candy bag into the slot.
Done. That was it. Time to head back. Another year, no going up—
"Hah... hah..."
My breath caught again. I stepped back from the mailbox and slumped against the wall. My chest tightened, vision narrowing. Not even cold, but my fingers shook. I'd thought I was okay. Clearly not.
I want to go home...
I bit my lip and glanced at the elevator. So simple. Just press the button, wait, go up...
I was staring blankly at the floor display when the elevator stopped at the 6th floor.
6th floor...?
My heart dropped for no reason. It hovered there a moment, then started descending, floor by floor.
The elevator was coming down. That tiny fact sent a chill racing up my spine. My breath quickened with each dropping number. Something felt off. I couldn't just stand there—I twisted away on instinct and yanked open the stairwell door beside it, slipping inside.
The heavy door muffled the outside as cold concrete and that stale stairwell air hit me. I leaned against it, trying to catch my breath. My heart wouldn't calm. It thundered in my chest, echoing in my ears.
And then—
Ding.
The elevator arrived. Almost simultaneously, a familiar voice from outside.
"So, I'll just wait in your car first, right, oppa?"
Noona's voice. My breath hitched. Memories flooded back: last year at the ossuary, her charging at me, screaming. Those bloodshot eyes. The curse-like words spat through gritted teeth. My chest throbbed at the recall.
Stay hidden. Don't let her see me.
But stronger than the fear was something else surging up.
I want to see her.
Scared, terrified, suffocating... but I still wanted to see.
My hand on the stairwell doorknob, I hesitated forever. Then, just a crack—I eased the door open the tiniest bit.
A sliver of the lobby came into view. Noona first. I shrank back reflexively. Close call. A second later and she'd have spotted me.
She looked thinner than before. Tired? Worn out? Or just different from how I remembered? Hard to say. But unmistakably my noona. That alone squeezed my heart.
"Yeah, Dad said he'd wait there."
Then hyung's voice. He walked beside her. Seeing his face nearly brought tears. Just a few years by the clock, but he looked so much older than I remembered.
Hyung's changed a lot...
Late thirties now—of course he had. Still, it felt so strange.
I held my breath, watching just them, when something odd caught my eye. Hyung's hands gripped something. I squinted, easing the door open more.
Now it was clear. Wheels. Handles. A blanket. And... a wheelchair?
My thoughts froze. But from here, I couldn't see who was in it—blocked by noona and hyung.
I swallowed hard. As they moved farther, I nudged the door open cautiously, gripping it tight to avoid a squeak. They headed slowly toward the exit. I pressed against the wall, peeking just enough to follow.
Then I saw who was in the wheelchair.
And in that moment—
"Ah."
My breath stopped. I froze solid. That face beyond them was far more gaunt than I remembered. A blanket over her knees, hands folded atop it. Head slightly bowed, pale face devoid of strength—almost unfamiliar.
My mind went blank.
Why. Why. Why is Mom in a wheelchair...?