Discharge into Mourning
The air of society I breathed after half a year at the funeral wasn't all that pleasant. It was well past 4 p.m., but the sunlight still stung harshly. I'd been waiting for this day forever, but not like this.
"Son."
"...Mom."
"Get in first."
A mid-size car pulled up in front of the base gate just as I was sweating bullets. I could faintly make out Mom's face through the window. I couldn't quite meet her eyes.
"...What the."
I opened the back door to load my stuff and found a passenger already there.
"...Hey."
"Why'd you come all the way out here too?"
"Didn't want to make Mom go back and forth twice because of me."
"I see."
My little sister, her hair grown out enough to cover her shoulders. Her dark circles had gotten worse since I last saw her. Made sense for a college entrance exam student, though.
"..."
"..."
I hugged my bag and slid into the back seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her fiddling with her nails. What should I say? What shouldn't I say? For someone like me who'd barely touched civilian stuff, it was too tough a dilemma.
"...Um, Mom. Is it okay to go like this in my uniform?"
"It's fine. They'll lend you clothes there."
The combat uniform I'd been dying to ditch. The fact that I'd have to change into mourning clothes instead left a bitter taste.
"Oppa."
"Yeah."
"...Good job in the army."
"...Yeah."
Was she just kind-hearted, or stubbornly proper? Either way, she seemed more grown-up than me, that was for sure.
It took less than an hour of keeping my mouth shut tight before we were back in Seoul. The university hospital five minutes from my maternal grandparents' house. The funeral hall on its grounds. First time since Grandpa's funeral when I was little. I didn't remember much.
"Oh, Ga-eul and Gyeo-ul are here?"
"Ga-eul, light the incense first."
"Brother-in-law, shouldn't we get the kids changed first?"
Relatives I hadn't seen since Lunar New Year. Their expressions weren't as bad as I'd feared.
"You change first, oppa."
"Okay."
I changed into mourning clothes in the break room next to the mourning hall. Coming out and adjusting my tie felt awkwardly off. Then my sister emerged in her black hanbok, and we stood together before the portrait.
We lit the incense and bowed. The rustle of our clothes felt noisier amid the solemn hush.
Maternal Grandmother. Digging through my childhood memories, half of them were probably with her. I'd gone to elementary school at her house because Mom was so busy.
Looking at her neatly dressed portrait brought it all back.
"...Grandma."
Mom turned her head at the sight of my sister quietly sniffling. They say shared grief is halved. I think that's only half right. Watching your family grieve is pretty heartbreaking in itself.
It didn't take as long as I'd thought to pull myself together. Crying tires you out, and funerals last three days anyway. So I forced myself not to look at Grandma's photo. What could be more embarrassing than being too exhausted from tears to carry the casket?
"Ga-eul, you discharged?"
I was spacing out in the mourning hall when the chief mourner—my cousin brother—struck up a conversation. Why's he chief mourner? I wondered, but with no maternal uncle around, I guess the eldest grandson took it.
"Yeah, supposed to be the day after tomorrow, but I got out two days early."
"Feels like you just went in, and now you're out already."
"Time flies faster than you think."
It had seemed endless going in, but now the days blurred together, barely memorable.
"So, what, heading back to school?"
"Re-enrolling mid-semester's awkward, and the world's a mess out there. Taking half a year off."
"Yeah, makes sense..."
"Was gonna travel, but roaming around now would just get my ass kicked by Mom."
"True that."
My cousin brother's chuckle was nostalgic, reminding me of elementary school days.
"No certifications for me since I ain't studying. Gotta do some part-time gigs."
"Everything's fucked out there—where you gonna find work?"
"If not, guess I'll tutor Gyeo-ul and take her allowance."
"Dude, your brain didn't turn to stone in the army, did it? You tutor?"
"I took the Suneung at base last year."
"No shit?"
"Wasn't humanly possible."
"Figures. If you couldn't hack it active duty, army won't change that."
"Exactly."
Even after so long apart, the conversation flowed easy. Family's something else. Plenty of people stay together a year and a half and still feel awkward.
"So, what's your take on the whole thing?"
"Average nightmare, but... picked up two things."
"Like what."
"Driving skills for one."
Trucks and buses nonstop, but still.
"And a dose of reality."
"What kind?"
"That there's no one in the world you can trust besides family."
Anyone knows how draining it is to ramble without common ground. But family calling every weekend anyway? That builds attachment. Friends who ghost despite shared interests? Criminals.
After scoring some braised pork, greeting relatives who trickled in one or two at a time for three hours straight left me mentally drained. Seeing visitors sob made my own eyes well up. This place was an emotional rollercoaster.
"Mom."
"Yeah, son."
"...You sending Gyeo-ul home?"
At least it was summer break for her. From experience, emotional swings weren't great for exam prep. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to crash at home too.
"Aigoo, I forgot with everything going on."
"Want me to take her?"
"...What's this from my son?"
Can't trust your own son, huh. Mom, your boy's back from the army.
"Funeral's till day after tomorrow anyway, and she needs rest."
"Right. Need the car keys?"
"Yes."
"Remember where you parked?"
"Of course."
"Casket tomorrow at 1, so be back before then."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Look after your sister too. She's stressed."
"Don't worry."
Mom was great at fretting over her kids, eyes all puffy. Who was worrying about whom?
"Whose son am I?"
Still, playing son and big brother now and then wasn't so bad.
Stepping on the mid-size car's pedal after so long felt off. Maybe from always driving heavies. Or because I was in mourning clothes, not uniform.
"...Sleepy?"
"No."
I said something when I saw her eyes squeezed shut in the passenger seat. Was it the army water not drained yet? Eyes closed next to the driver pissed me off for some reason.
"Just thinking."
"About what."
"...Just. Stuff."
...Well. Yeah. Complicated times. Even steady studying twists your guts; this had to suck.
"Uh... anyway, everyone knows you're stressed. Go home and crash."
"It's not that."
"Then what."
"...Nothing worth saying."
If asked if we got along, I'd say yes, no doubt. Close? For siblings, maybe on the closer side? Talk easy? Nah. No real topics sometimes, especially after so long apart. Gets awkward.
"Kim Gyeo-ul."
"What."
"Wanna grab coffee?"
Air in the car felt stuffy. Or craving something sweet. A coffee shop caught my eye at the light.
"Uh... sure."
"What you want."
"Ah, I'll get it. You?"
"...In that outfit?"
I could pass for a suit guy, but a high school girl in mourning clothes at a cafe? Sketchy.
"...Hazelnut latte. Iced."
"Wait here."
I pulled over, walked to the cafe. Would've been smooth if I hadn't left my wallet in the uniform pockets. Made me wanna upgrade my phone.
Chewing the syrupy dregs of my Americano, we pulled into the familiar parking lot. I sent Gyeo-ul up first, called Mom, then opened the door to chilly air. Half a year, and it felt colder than it should've.
"...I'm home."
I whispered to the empty living room. Bowing to thin air looked weird, but the house with just the AC humming felt sentimental.
"...What're you doing?"
"Huh? Nothing."
"?"
The bathroom door flew open, Gyeo-ul emerging towel-drying her hair. Girl with long hair, showering that fast?
"You shower too. Hot water's on."
"Yeah. I'm washing and sleeping, so you crash hard too."
"Okay."
I grabbed clothes to change into, leaving her heading to her room. Bathroom was steamy-warm. Lukewarm water hit perfect; I let the shower take over. Shampoo and body wash scents felt nice enough. Rinsed off sweat, changed to civvies—discharge felt real now. Heart pounding outta nowhere. Oh yeah, I'm a civilian for real.
Back in my room, tossing on the bed, but sleep wouldn't come. After an hour of tossing, I headed to the kitchen for cold water.
"...What're you doing?"
"...Wondering if it'll help me sleep."
Gyeo-ul was cracking open a beer at the table. Caught me off guard.
"You drink normally?"
"No."
"Then whatever."
Normally I'd scold her, but not tonight. I sat across silently. She took a sip, face scrunching.
"Bitter."
"Gimme."
I snatched the can, grabbed a glass from the kitchen, poured slow so foam settled. Poured the rest, handed her the now-dark glass.
"...Not gonna yell?"
"You think I'm that clueless?"
"Kinda."
"Harsh."
Just the sound of gulping beer filled the living room. Heavy silence. Almost wanted to smell the alcohol. Checked the fridge—nada left.
"...Gonna hit the convenience store. Want anything?"
"...Potato chips."
"Wait up."
Wallet in hand, out the door. No hat felt weird. White breath puffing, into the store. Black beer from earlier, sweet fruit beer, some snacks in the bag. The part-timer ringing me up with bleary eyes felt strangely foreign.