The Bank Account I Never Got
I need a bank account. There are things I require. Now that I've left the orphanage, Uncle's help lets me do almost anything, yet some necessities still elude me. A step stool to reach high shelves, for instance. Or coffee to ward off exhaustion. (They won't let me drink it because I'm supposedly too young.) Those minor inconveniences born of restrictions are one thing, but what I needed right now wasn't any of that.
'I need a bank account.' A passbook. A lot of money was about to come in, and I had nowhere to receive it. Of course, there was no formal contract, so I didn't strictly need a bank transfer, but meeting in person to hand over cash every time would be a hassle. The world was shifting toward cards over cash, and I couldn't exactly be the one kid still taking envelopes while whining, "Mister, you're the worst!"
But I was only a thirteen-year-old kid. In this country, a child my age couldn't open an account or even complete identity verification alone. It was a policy meant to protect minors, so of course it was the law. The people who made it probably never imagined a child who had lived through ten years of regression would exist. Uncle was protecting me in practice, but on paper it wasn't recognized. That meant I needed the director's help for any administrative work or anything in my own name.
"Finally made it…"
That was why I'd braved the cold wind alone to reach the orphanage. Uncle was out again today for work. I'd already gotten permission over the spare phone he'd given me, so there was no problem. The workshop and the orphanage weren't far apart, so I could get here easily by subway and bus.
Seeing the orphanage after so long didn't stir much emotion. Should I call it coming home? No—the orphanage wasn't home. I had no home. That was why I felt nothing.
I was crossing the front gate with those thoughts when a voice I didn't miss at all reached me.
"Oh? Look who the fuck's back."
A girl with short hair that fell to her shoulders and freckles across her face. She would turn fourteen this year and enter middle school. Until last year she'd been the self-appointed enforcer among the elementary kids, holding considerable sway in the orphanage's child society where violence passed for rules. Seo Yebin. She was the first child I'd seen when I opened my eyes here, and the last one I'd seen before leaving.
Seo Yebin dragged me to a secluded corner of the orphanage where no one ever came. She flung my wrist away like she was discarding it, and I hit the wall with no resistance. My back and arms stung, but I lifted my face and kept my expression calm.
"It's been a while."
"Yeah, it has. You look well-fed, so I guess you've been living the good life."
Seo Yebin was smiling, but I remembered that smile never meant anything good. As if to prove it, her hand pressed down hard on my shoulder.
"I had a real question, you know. Why the hell did that old man take you with him?"
The hand on my shoulder tightened, fingers digging in.
"Did you spread your legs for him? Is that why you got to sleep in a warm bed? Ah, but the fact that you're back means he got tired of you and threw you out, huh?"
"Watch your mouth."
"Shut the fuck up with that bullshit. Then why did he take you? From what I heard, it wasn't even adoption. Some kind of sponsorship? Why don't you just admit it—you're selling yourself for pocket money. Is that it?"
She laughed under her breath, lumping me and Uncle together in her insults. Seo Yebin was venting the anger coiled inside her straight at me. Her eyes held unmistakable hostility. Like she was looking at something irritating, something disgusting. That emotion came at me as violence and curses.
I stared straight back at her. Thinking I was rebelling, she ground her teeth and raised her hand, but she couldn't bring it down. Her face twisted instead.
"Were you going to hit me? Go ahead, then."
She couldn't use violence on me anymore. I sighed and spoke.
"You can't, can you? That's right. I've caught someone's attention now. I'm not just some kid living in the orphanage anymore. If there are marks from being hit, Uncle will find the cause and hold them responsible. That's what sponsorship means."
"Shut up."
"You're going to middle school now, aren't you? Even if the other kids don't, we have to start thinking about our futures. We need to prepare now so we're not thrown away when we enter society. I've seen plenty of people who did nothing and became adults, so you know it too. That's why you can't act the way you used to."
Three years of middle school passed quickly. Three years of high school passed even faster. For kids like us, who would lose the orphanage's safety net once we became adults, those three years were a desperate race against time. Seo Yebin had to know that.
"That's how it is for orphans. We have to work harder and move faster than everyone else just to live like everyone else. The starting line is different, so of course it is. That's why I moved. I trusted my abilities, took the gamble, and got the stability of sponsorship. What did you do?"
I didn't know why Seo Yebin was angry at me. But I could read the emotion in her eyes.
"Fuck… shut up. What the hell do you know…"
"No, I don't know anything. There's no way for me to know, and no reason to. Why would I want to understand someone who only ever hit and cursed at me? It's just pathetic. You really went that far to hide your inferiority complex by tormenting a younger kid who was smaller than you?"
"Shut the fuck up!"
Her palm struck my cheek. The loud slap brought pain to match its volume. The impact made me stagger, but I caught my balance and looked up at her again. Seeing that, she couldn't quell her rage and raised her hand once more—only for a shout to ring out from behind her.
"Stop it right now!"
A face I hadn't seen in a while. This time, it was a voice I almost missed.
The director applied ointment to my swollen red cheek and apologized.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize, Director."
"When the children fight, it's the director's fault."
The director wore a guilty expression as he spoke, then paused before continuing.
"…I hope you won't resent Yebin too much."
"I don't resent her."
"Haha, that's a relief, but…"
With a large piece of gauze on my cheek, the director picked up where he'd left off.
"Sua, it seems she was very jealous of you."
There was no subject, but I knew immediately who he meant. And what he was trying to say. Realistically, hoping for adoption at our age wasn't optimistic. In that situation, hearing that I was receiving support from a famous person like Uncle must have stirred envy. What puzzled me wasn't that.
"It feels like she only acted that way toward me. Do you know why?"
She'd been tormenting me since the moment I opened my eyes here. That meant she'd disliked me even before then… The director hesitated at my question, let out a small sigh, and answered.
"I don't know the details either, but… perhaps it was because of all the comparisons."
"Comparisons?"
"Yebin is bigger than the other kids her age. On the other hand, you're on the smaller side. So when volunteers or outsiders came to the orphanage, they tended to like you more than Yebin. I think those things piled up over time."
"I see."
Bullying and ostracism really did start from the smallest things. Just like how the bullying began the moment a classmate said it was strange for an eight-year-old to have no parents. What started as jealousy kept growing until it turned into an inferiority complex. And that inferiority complex must have finally burst when it saw me escaping the orphanage.
The director set the ointment on the desk and spoke brightly.
"Well, that's all the treatment done. I got your call. You wanted to make a bank account, right?"
"Yes. I wanted to save the money I earn helping Uncle."
That explanation should work. I'd coordinated the story that way before leaving the orphanage.
"Saving is good. Then wait here a moment."
The director returned to his seat, walked over to the safe in the corner, and entered the key and password. After rummaging inside, he pulled something out and brought it over.
"I was going to give this to you when you became an adult. Once you're out in society, you'll need money. But it looks like you don't need to wait for that."
"This is…"
"I couldn't put much in, but I added a little on every anniversary."
A personal passbook and seal made in my name. The records showed deposits of twenty thousand won on anniversaries like New Year's and birthdays.
'I never received anything like this before.'
He'd made it to give me when I became an adult, so why hadn't the adult version of me ever gotten it? Ah, right.
'Because I ran away.'
Once I became an adult, I'd wanted to leave the orphanage as quickly as possible, so I'd walked out without saying goodbye to anyone. Originally, I was supposed to greet the director and receive the passbook. If I hadn't snuck out back then and had talked with the director while accepting it, would I have understood his feelings even a little?
I shook my head. That was the past, a future that would never come. No point dwelling on it. I clutched the passbook and seal with both hands and spoke to the director.
"…Thank you."
My plan to go to the bank was overturned, and I ended up returning to the workshop much sooner than expected. The director said he had other plans, walked me to the front gate, and hurried back inside. With my goal achieved, I was about to head for the bus when a familiar voice called from behind.
"Hey."
I didn't need to turn around to recognize it. I ignored her and kept walking. But the voice followed, and eventually she stepped in front of me, blocking my path. She froze when she saw the large gauze on my cheek.
"……What."
"No, it's just…"
Seo Yebin hesitated, uncharacteristically unsure of herself.
"If you have nothing to say, could you move? I need to go back now."
Even after I said that, she didn't speak and just stood in my way. I sighed and tried to step around her—when I heard it.
"……Sniff."
Huh. Huh? I definitely heard the sound of someone swallowing tears. My ears, which felt like they'd heard something they shouldn't have, turned my head to confirm it was real. And there she was—Seo Yebin desperately trying to hold back falling tears.
Huh? She's crying?
'No, why are you crying?'
There was no answer to the question I'd shouted in my mind out of sheer disbelief. I could only stand frozen, staring at the shocking scene I'd never witnessed before.