To Korea (1)
University Hospital Funeral Hall, Basement Level 1, Special Room 1.
The elevator doors slid open, and a thick incense scent pierced deep into their lungs, filling the corridor.
The air itself seemed weighed down by the heaviness of grief.
And then.
"Aigoo.... Aigoo....."
"Mother.... How tragic...."
From afar came wails that wrenched the heart, echoing through the space.
The entrance to the funeral hall was already a forest of massive wreaths.
Standing blankly at the entrance in mourning clothes was Kim Seongtae.
A man who had lived his life upright as an "in-law," always steadfast.
Yet now, Kim Seongtae stared into empty space with hollow eyes, as if he had expended every last ounce of strength.
His eyes were red and swollen from crying.
He stood there like a machine, merely greeting the arriving mourners.
Beside him was his eldest son, Kim Ji-hyeok.
His sunken eyes spoke of sleepless nights, his dark stubble and wrinkled mourning clothes betraying the ordeal he was enduring.
Deeper inside the hall.
That was the epicenter of sorrow.
First came the portrait of the grandmother, surrounded by chrysanthemums.
In the photo, she smiled with kind, warm benevolence.
But below it, the collapsed figures of the family formed a stark contrast.
Choi Mi-hee had slumped to the floor, unable to hold herself up.
Like a woman unhinged, she muttered dry sobs of "Mother... Mother..." before her emotions surged again in a torrent of wailing.
"Aigoo! My mother!"
"Grandma! Grandmaaa!"
The youngest granddaughter, Jimin, oblivious to her mourning skirt dragging on the floor, supported her mother while crying out in anguish.
She clung desperately to keep her mother from falling, but the young girl's shoulders trembled with her own heartbroken sobs.
Her mother's wails were the signal.
The aunts, great-aunts, and countless relatives from the clan home joined in the mourning cry.
"Aigoo! Aigoo!"
"Mother! How heartbreaking!"
Crying.
A ritual seen only at funerals.
It was sorrow for the departed, a release of pain for those left behind.
The collective cries of dozens beating their chests shook the entire funeral hall.
If Kim Seongtae stoically swallowed his grief in silence, the women poured it out with their whole bodies.
Only the grandmother's smile in the portrait gazed quietly down on this landscape of sorrow.
"Ji-hoon said he's leaving right away?"
"Yes, Father."
Ji-hyeok replied to his weary-faced father, who hadn't slept.
The first day was for the family to share their grief; tomorrow, they would receive guests in earnest.
The grandmother had passed peacefully in her sleep.
She'd seemed frail lately, but the suddenness left the unprepared family immersed in sorrow.
As the eldest daughter-in-law of the clan, she had been the pillar holding the family together through all major and minor events.
Her death shocked everyone in the household.
"Father, get some rest. It'll be busy starting tomorrow..."
Typically, chief mourners and immediate family stayed at the funeral hall, eating and sleeping there.
In one corner of a side room, women who had cried themselves to exhaustion caught a bit of sleep.
The men could just lie down anywhere on a blanket.
At his son's concerned words, Kim Seongtae gave a faint smile.
"You're tired too—close your eyes for a bit. I'll rest with Mother soon."
Right in front of the funeral hall.
The incense wafted strongly, and Kim Seongtae—the son seeing off his mother—wanted to spend more time with her.
"....Yes, Father."
Ji-hyeok caught the grief hidden in his father's casual words and quietly stepped outside.
Kim Seongtae gazed silently at his mother's photo, murmuring inwardly.
'You left too soon, Mother. If only you'd held on a little longer. All I can think of now is what I failed to do for you. Forgive your son.'
They say you should cherish the living.
Once someone departs, only regrets remain.
I should have visited more.
I should have spent more time.
Even farewells between lovers are like this.
And... any farewell's first day is the hardest.
Kim Seongtae quietly swallowed his tears.
If his son saw him grieving, his mother would only sorrow more, so he wanted to see her off with a bright face.
On the first day of the funeral.
Kim Seongtae kept watch over the hall alone.
"...Hyungnim, go rest a bit."
Kim Seongtae's younger brother, Kim Seong-su, spoke worriedly to his brother, who had stood vigil all night.
Kim Seong-su had rushed from the hospital that morning after surgery.
Since it was his hospital, they secured the special room cheaply.
He'd held back tears during surgery to save the patient, changed clothes at home briefly, and come straight here.
Seeing his haggard brother pained him.
"....You're here. Pay your respects to Mother."
Ignoring his brother's urging to rest, Kim Seongtae held his post steadfastly.
Lighting incense, Kim Seong-su knelt quietly.
Then he froze in prostration.
He hadn't felt it while at the hospital overnight upon hearing the news.
But now, face-to-face with his mother's photo in the hall, memories of her raising him flooded back.
Those memories became tears, spilling out.
His body shook as he sobbed in prostration.
The chief mourner Seongtae and Ji-hyeok beside him watched silently.
They gave him time to bid farewell to their mother.
After a long while, eyes red, Kim Seong-su donned the chief mourner's armband and stood quietly beside his brother Kim Seongtae.
And... guests began arriving at the hall, one by one.
No, not one by one.
True to a clan funeral, a procession of mourners in black suits filled the corridor endlessly.
They signed the condolence book at the entrance.
White envelopes piled up quickly in the box.
Mourners entered, picked up a chrysanthemum.
They offered it before the portrait, bowed twice fully and once halfway.
Some observed silence.
Then they turned to the chief mourners.
Kim Seongtae, Kim Seong-su, and Ji-hyeok stood in a row.
The mourners bowed deeply.
"Your grief must be immense."
"We pray for the deceased's eternal peace."
Kim Seongtae returned the bows silently with reddened eyes.
He spoke little.
When grief is too great, words fail.
Ji-hyeok and Seong-su bowed too.
"Thank you for coming."
"Please have a meal before you go."
Ji-hyeok guided the guests.
After paying respects, they headed to the adjacent dining area.
The atmosphere there differed sharply from the hall's heavy silence.
Not rowdy, but filled with the warmth of the living.
"One more lukgukjang here!"
"Bring out some sliced pork and pancakes."
Amid busy servers carrying food, mourners took seats.
Tables held the standard funeral fare: lukgukjang, boiled pork, and rice cakes.
Mourners picked up spoons.
"Such... a wonderful person."
"Yeah. But it was a good funeral, all things considered."
"Her kids all turned out well too. The doctor son..."
They sipped hot broth, reminiscing about the deceased.
Some caught up with old acquaintances; others quietly tipped soju glasses.
Sorrow was for the living.
And overcoming it was their duty too.
Thus, the funeral hall saw off the departed's final journey while filling the stomachs of the remaining, as night deepened.
"Ji-hoon still not here?"
Kim Seongtae asked Ji-hyeok about his second son, who hadn't arrived.
"...Yes. I contacted him right away, so he should be soon. It's over 12 hours, and flights might not be immediate..."
"...I see. Tell me when he contacts."
No one could go meet him at the funeral hall.
Even with 12 hours, over a day had passed without arrival in Korea—it was puzzling.
No flight available?
Or delayed?
Possible.
With five days left in the funeral, four days remained.
Kim Seongtae hoped Ji-hoon, whom his mother had doted on, would come pay respects.
But... Ji-hoon was already in Korea.
Direct flight to Korea, first class.
Ji-hoon and Lily sat side by side.
But Ji-hoon was out of it.
Lily gazed at him worriedly and spoke cautiously.
"Husband... you okay?"
"....Yeah."
Ji-hoon's reply lacked strength.
It was his first family death since adulthood.
Especially his doting grandmother—the shock hit harder.
His mind tangled in complexity.
Guilt for not visiting often, assuming she'd live forever.
Guilt for not being at her final moments.
Emotions overwhelmed him.
Lily silently gripped his hand tight.
She remembered that moment he came home.
Greeting him at the door as usual, but his face was steeped in deep sorrow.
"Grandma... passed."
With those words, Lily moved without hesitation.
She packed suitcases instantly.
No time to waste.
Finishing Korea preparations in a flash, she took the dazed Ji-hoon's hand to the airport.
No time to book ahead.
At the airport, they grabbed the next flight tickets.
First class.
With the long flight, she wanted him comfortable.
That's what earning money was for.
Price didn't matter.
It wasn't a burden for them anyway.
YouTube revenue piled up in their joint account.
"......"
Even on the plane, Ji-hoon couldn't sleep.
He stared blankly at the darkness outside.
Lily didn't force "cheer up."
She knew the pain of losing a loved one.
Having lost both parents, she understood deeply.
So instead of words, she just held his hand quietly beside him.
The flight, just over 12 hours.
The plane landed at Incheon Airport.
Ji-hoon took Lily's hand and disembarked.
Familiar yet foreign air.
They headed to immigration to exit.
Before, he'd use the Korean line for quick passage—but not now.
Ji-hoon was now a "black-haired foreigner."
He joined the "foreigners" line with Lily.
Incheon International Airport, Terminal 2, Immigration Hall.
[Foreign Passport / Foreigners]
Ji-hoon stood in the long line under that sign.
The adjacent [Republic of Korea Passport] line was empty.
Watching Koreans zip through automated gates with a beep, Ji-hoon felt a strange sensation.
Until recently, he'd been one of them.
Now, he held a blue U.S. passport—a complete outsider.
"......"
Ji-hoon swallowed a bitter smile and wrapped an arm around Lily's shoulders.
People's stares fixed on Lily.
Snow-white hair.
Skin translucent white.
Red eyes peeking beyond sunglasses.
Lily's ethereal, alien beauty drew every gaze in the airport.
"Albinism? She's stunning."
"A model?"
Murmurs rose.
Ji-hoon shielded her from the stares with his body.
Lily clung to his waist silently, head down.
After a long wait, their turn came.
"Next."
The stone-faced officer beckoned.
Ji-hoon and Lily approached together.
"Passports, please."
The officer glanced between their faces and spoke dryly.
Family, so processed together.
Ji-hoon handed over both passports.
The officer opened them.
'Kim, Jihoon'.
'Kim, Lily'.
U.S. citizens.
He scanned the passports routinely.
Beep-
Lily's cleared first.
Her fingerprints and photo registered on the monitor.
No issues.
Now Ji-hoon.
The officer swiped his passport.
Beep-
A crisp tone sounded.
Ji-hoon watched indifferently.
He just wanted out—to grab a taxi to the funeral hall.
But.
Tap, tap.
The officer's hand paused.
His eyebrows twitched at the monitor.
As if sensing something off, he typed again.
Tap tap tap.
Suddenly, the officer's eyes sharpened.
Boredom vanished, replaced by tense alertness.
He glanced up at Ji-hoon briefly.
Comparing his face to the photo.
"......"
Ji-hoon instinctively sensed trouble.
The officer's demeanor had shifted subtly.
"Any problem?"
Ji-hoon asked lowly.
Instead of answering, the officer quietly pressed something under the desk.
Then, with a stiff expression:
"Please wait a moment."
"Pardon?"
"We need identity verification."
"It's all in the passport. What more verifica—"
Then.
Before Ji-hoon finished, the door behind the counter burst open.
Two uniformed immigration officers and plainclothes men rushed forward.
Their eyes locked straight on Ji-hoon.
The air turned icy in an instant.
Lily gripped his arm anxiously.