These Days of Ours
"…What are you doing?"
I'd finished dinner and come out of a decent shower to find Seolhwa sitting at the table, taking notes.
"School's starting soon. I should get some studying done."
Sounds exactly like something a top student would say…
Coming from someone who couldn't even claim to be an average student, let alone an honor student, it was a statement I couldn't begin to understand — though I didn't bother calling her on it.
Come to think of it, whenever Seolhwa had free time, she always seemed to bury herself in her studies. As someone who lived a long way from anything resembling knowledge or refinement, I'd once asked her if that kind of thing was actually fun. I still remembered the bitter look on her face when she'd answered, "It's all I've got…"
Lately, hanging around with me and Eunha, she'd started dabbling in other hobbies — games, TV, that sort of thing. But at her core she was still a diligent kid, and it didn't seem like much had really changed.
"Mind if I take a look at that?"
"Huh? I don't mind, but… I haven't finished writing it yet."
"Doesn't matter."
I took the notebook from her and skimmed it by eye. As expected, there wasn't a single part I could make sense of, and I sighed inwardly. Still, whether I understood it or not was a separate matter — the notes themselves were remarkably thorough. Formula solutions, English sentence breakdowns, all kinds of things written out in neat, orderly handwriting.
"Same as when you clean. I guess it really is fair to say you've got a knack for things."
"Flattering me won't get you anything, you know…?"
Whether from embarrassment or something else, Seolhwa's gaze started spinning in every direction, and I couldn't help letting out a small snort of laughter. The fact that someone this capable, who worked this hard on top of it, had been forced to live a life that left her self-worth so low — it still left a bitter taste.
"Just being honest."
I didn't let any of that show on my face. I snapped the notebook shut with a soft tap and settled down beside her.
"If it's all right… would you teach me a little?"
"Huh? I've never really taught anyone before…"
"If it's too much, that's fine. But someone who takes notes this carefully doesn't seem like the type who couldn't teach."
Lately I'd started attending school properly, but realistically speaking, that was the bare minimum. I was only just managing to do what everyone else already did — standing at the starting line, nothing more. The pace of the classes was nowhere near something a fool who'd spent years walling himself off from studying could keep up with. Zoning out, sleeping through lectures… that was how I wasted most of the time.
If I wanted to stay by Seolhwa's side, I figured I ought to get at least somewhat caught up on this stuff too. That was all it was.
…Or so I'd thought, back when I was still putting on airs about it.
"…You okay?"
"Not even a little…"
How long had it been? I'd been convinced I'd been suffering for a good three hours, only to check the clock and discover a mere thirty minutes had passed. The reality of it crushed me, and I let out a long sigh.
"If this is normal, then I guess it's normal, but…"
I'd clearly underestimated the South Korean education system. What had I even done to end up this drained? I was starting to think running around on a court all day might actually be less exhausting.
"But you're understanding a little at a time… I think you're doing fine."
"…I know."
It wasn't that Seolhwa couldn't explain things. Whenever I admitted I didn't get something, she'd rephrase it in simpler terms, clearly adjusting to my level. Tiny fragments of it were even starting to stick.
It's just that my fuel efficiency is abysmal…
The natural result of living so pitifully, I supposed. I was sighing to myself over that when Seolhwa gave me a gentle pat on the back.
"Maybe you're trying to rush it too much?"
"Maybe…"
Seolhwa always told me I was fine the way I was. But I couldn't bring myself to think that way. I couldn't just lean on the kindness she kept offering me.
"…Want to take a break?"
I stretched, trying to shake off the fatigue, and headed for the kitchen.
"Should I grab us a snack or something? Seolhwa, you want anything?"
I was rummaging through the cupboard when her answer floated over from the living room: "Anything's fine."
People always say "anything" is the hardest answer to work with — but in our case, it was different.
She's got pretty firm tastes, after all.
You could call it a kid's palate — Seolhwa liked sweet things more than you'd expect, so I'd been quietly stocking that kind of food in the neatly organized cupboard. Hot chocolate and candy, and from the fridge, something called baumkuchen — a round, tape-roll-shaped cake. I pulled it out and warmed it up with the rest, and a rich, toasty smell began to fill the air.
It was something Seolhwa had shown interest in when we'd gone to the supermarket together, so I'd bought it. Bread goes bad fast, they say, so I figured we ought to finish it sooner rather than later.
"You said anything was fine, so I just threw something together."
I'd barely finished putting the study materials away when Yuseong appeared at the perfect moment, carrying a tray of snacks.
"You didn't have to go to the trouble. I feel like I ordered you around — I should be the one apologizing."
"A student should do at least this much for their teacher."
"Oh, stop it."
We both laughed, a little sheepish, then set everything out on the table and started in on the snacks. The sweetness of the properly warmed hot chocolate paired with the soft cake — with my limited vocabulary, all I could really say was that it was delicious.
Yuseong, for his part, seemed to prefer bitter flavors overall, starting with black coffee. But the table always held nothing but mildly sweet snacks, as if he were looking out for me. I'd even told him he didn't have to fuss over me so much — that he should prioritize his own tastes. But every time, he'd dig in his heels with a stubborn "I like this," until going along with his kindness had simply become routine.
I was savoring the sweetness at my own pace when I noticed Yuseong watching me with what looked, for some reason, like quiet satisfaction.
"…What?"
It was bothering me, so I asked. But all he managed was a "Well…" as he scratched his cheek, looking like whatever he wanted to say was hard to get out. I had no intention of prying. I was about to tell him it was fine when he came right out with it: "The way you eat is cute… like a hamster, I guess."
"…Ugh!"
I whipped my head around and fixed my eyes on the wall, steam practically pouring from my ears. It was always like this. I kept thinking I ought to be used to it by now, but there was nothing I could do about the way my heart hammered in my chest.
Yuseong could be mischievous and tease me sometimes, but he wasn't the type to say cruel things or lie… and now that I'd come to understand these comments were his honest feelings, the fluttering in my chest had only gotten worse instead of better.
Maybe it was Seojin's influence — Mother's influence. Yuseong would just come out with those embarrassing lines without warning, and being on the receiving end left me flustered in more ways than one. Whenever I protested, though, he'd turn it right back on me with a "You're one to talk, you know?"
I'd started working part-time at the café, and on top of making sure I never got home too late, Yuseong always came to walk me back. When we walked, he'd keep glancing over his shoulder so I wouldn't fall behind with my shorter stride. On the street he always took the outside. The slightest hint that I might be unwell and he'd worry right away. When Eunha or Mother fixed my clothes or my hair, he'd always notice — whether or not their influence had something to do with it — and tell me I looked cute…
And lately, since I couldn't quite reach the shelves and cupboards, a little step stool had somehow appeared without my noticing.
The affection I received felt like more than I deserved. But the moment I showed even a flicker of that feeling, Eunha and Yuseong would both give me the same unwavering response: "You need this. This much is right for you."
Honestly, it still didn't feel entirely real. It was like living inside a long dream.
My father. My brothers. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried, they never saw me. I was someone who might as well have been there or not — and at some point, I'd resigned myself to that. The truth of it had made my heart so terribly sad.
But after I met Yuseong, everything changed.
He gave me a place to belong. He told me it had to be me — that no one else would do. And whenever I got scared that I might wake up from this sweet dream, he would stroke my hair and tell me it was all right. Feeling that touch, my heart would grow so quiet and calm.
What family really meant — if I was being honest, I still didn't fully understand. But the way their eyes always turned toward me said it clearly enough.
You're allowed to be here.
When I finally understood that, I don't think Yuseong will ever know how happy I was.
Until now, my life had been nothing but pain and loneliness and sadness. But if all of it had been for the sake of this moment — then I could think, these days, that I was glad I'd stayed alive.
"Thank you. Always."
I set down my mug of hot chocolate and said it, and Yuseong looked away with a muttered, "I haven't done anything worth thanking me for."
I'd learned lately that this, too, was one of his embarrassed reactions, and I let a smile slip out. He sighed a "Honestly…" under his breath, but given that I was usually the one on the receiving end, I figured it was only fair to pay him back a little.
My eyes drifted to the study notebook still sitting on the table.
Yuseong had been saying it more and more lately. That he wanted to become someone who belonged at my side… that he wanted to change. This was probably part of that.
You're already more than wonderful enough, though.
I didn't say it out loud. Instead, I decided to try a little mischief of my own.
"You're doing great."
With that, I carefully reached over and stroked his hair — turning the tables for once.
"…!"
Watching Yuseong's breath catch and his cheeks flush bright red was a rare and precious sight. I couldn't help laughing, and he pouted, lips pushed out in a sulk.
Part of me wanted to capture it with the camera I'd been given as a gift, but even I knew I'd get scolded for that.
A warmth blooming in one corner of my chest seemed to spread through my whole body.
"…I don't think you're in any position to call me the mischievous one."
"Must be your imagination."
This, I thought — this was probably what family meant. That was the kind of thought I found myself having these days.