Because Dad Is a Bad Adult...
When I came to and looked around, I found myself in a familiar hospital room. Turning my head, I saw Seol-hee asleep with one of my hands held tightly in hers, and Ryu-yeong curled up asleep in the corner.
Outside the window, a deep blue night glowed with soft moonlight. Checking the marks on the calendar hanging in the room, I was relieved to see that not even a full day seemed to have passed since the kidnapping.
I slowly pushed aside the blanket covering me and checked over my body. The clothes the kidnappers had torn were gone, replaced by clean hospital scrubs. Pale green bandages covered nearly my entire upper body—probably for treating my back—and gauze that carried a pleasant scent was stuck to both my cheeks.
After Cheon Sa, Mother, and what I assumed were other OFS personnel had smashed through the ceiling to rescue me, they had apparently knocked me out with some kind of superpower.
I slowly sat up against the headboard. Feeling the fact of my rescue settle in, relief washed through me—and as the tension left my body, I began to tremble.
No matter how calmly my reason tried to respond, my body, still only ten years old, couldn't help but react more honestly than my mind.
I was scared. If I was being honest, I was terrified. How could I not have been? I had been utterly powerless, and the kidnappers were opponents I could never have beaten no matter what I did.
My experience and memories from my days as a hero had helped me endure—but those same experiences and memories had also put me in danger.
That said, I didn't think the decision to get caught so Ryu-yeong could go fetch the adults had been wrong. Still, I couldn't stop my body from shaking, or the tears from quietly welling up.
As I breathed slowly, trying to calm my trembling body, the door slid open with a rattle and Mother and Father came in. Father saw me, cried out, "Harang!", and rushed over.
At Father's voice, Seol-hee, Ryu-yeong, and even little Seol-hwa—who had been asleep in Mother's arms—all opened their eyes and looked at me. Instantly, under the weight of so many gazes, I forced my trembling down as best I could and managed an awkward smile.
Tears spilled.
"Wh-what?"
I hadn't expected that the fragile feelings I was holding back would simply shift to my eyes and pour out even harder. As I started crying freely, Ryu-yeong flinched and put distance between us.
Even though I'd ordered her to run, Ryu-yeong had fled and left me behind, and she seemed to think my kidnapping was her fault—she wouldn't readily come near me. The thought that I might have planted a serious trauma in someone still so young made me feel a little guilty.
Father crashed into me and pulled me into his arms.
I quietly told him I was okay—but that only made him cry even harder.
When he sobbed that there was no way I could be okay, I couldn't bring myself to say it again. Just as he held me, I held him back in silence.
Once Father had calmed somewhat, he pulled away from me and began crying in Mother's arms. I stroked the head of Seol-hwa as she came up calling,
"Unnie! Unnie! Are you okay?"
"Yeah, Unnie's fine. Mom and Cheon Sa rescued me brilliantly."
"Really? You're really okay?"
"Don't hide it, Harang. Unnie's worried too."
I gave a small smile at a situation where no one believed me when I said I was fine, and kept telling both Seol-hwa and Seol-hee that I was okay.
Seol-hwa climbed onto my bed, gripping both my hands tightly and refusing to let go, while Seol-hee carefully touched the gauze on my cheek with slightly trembling fingers.
The act itself was similar to when the kidnappers had touched my cheek, but unlike then, there was nothing unpleasant about it. I closed my eyes and nuzzled my cheek against Seol-hee's careful touch, letting her know I was okay.
At that, Seol-hee began to shed a few tears herself. She sat beside me and leaned against my shoulder. Seol-hwa started rubbing her cheek against my hand.
Confirming that Seol-hwa had freed one of my hands, I looked at Ryu-yeong, smiled as if to say it was all right, and beckoned her over. At my gesture, Ryu-yeong flinched hard, then slowly approached.
In that instant, Seol-hee and Seol-hwa glared at her as if they could bore holes through her body. I pressed firmly on both their eyes with my fingers, then reached out to the approaching Ryu-yeong and stroked her hair.
"Thank you, Ryu-yeong. Thanks to you, I was rescued so quickly."
"N-no... If I... if I'd just been... stronger..."
At my thanks, tears burst from Ryu-yeong's eyes. She bit her lip and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand as if trying to hold them back, but once the tears started, they weren't easy to stop.
I took her hand as whatever she was trying to say dissolved into sobs, and waited for her to calm down. Seeing Ryu-yeong cry set Seol-hwa off too, and I gave a bitter smile as I pulled Seol-hwa into my arms and patted her until she settled.
In a hospital room where everyone but Mother and I was in tears, I felt once more that I had been rescued, and slowly let out a breath.
I could feel my faintly trembling body gradually calming down.
Day broke, and Seol-hwa and Seol-hee went home in Father's car. I still couldn't forget what Father said when I asked if we weren't giving Ryu-yeong a ride too.
"...I know it wasn't Ryu-yeong's fault, but... Dad is... Dad is a bad adult, so... I've come to hate Ryu-yeong."
"Father... that's..."
"I know... I know, Harang. But... no matter how hard I try, this feeling of hating her... I don't think it's going to go away for a while..."
Faced with Father's words, thick with suppressed fury, I couldn't bring myself to say anything more and simply nodded. When I looked over at Ryu-yeong sitting in the corner with slightly worried eyes, she gave me a faint smile as if to say she was fine.
I'd been a little bothered that Ryu-yeong kept sitting in the corner—on the floor, no less, without even a chair—but I hadn't known something like this had happened.
Father called himself a bad adult, but it wasn't as if I couldn't understand how he felt. His precious child had been kidnapped and come back badly hurt.
Even if the friend who'd gone out to play with that child wasn't at fault—even if I was the one who'd ordered Ryu-yeong to run—it was only natural that he'd come to resent the girl who'd fled alone.
After Seol-hwa and Seol-hee left the hospital room with Father, Ryu-yeong, who had been fidgeting under Mother's gaze, bowed deeply to Mother alongside the maid who had come for her, then disappeared.
And so only Mother and I were left in the room. Mother spoke to me with a serious expression.
"...What were you thinking, doing something like that? Do you have any idea what would have happened if... if we'd been even a little later?"
"...I'm sorry."
It wasn't an answer to the question she'd asked, but it was the only answer I could give Mother right now. At my composed demeanor, the tears Mother seemed to have been holding back finally broke free.
For Mother—who never wanted to cry in front of the family—to shed tears in front of me told me just how worried she had been.
So without any other words, I simply repeated that I was sorry and that I was grateful she'd saved me. Mother just glared at me, arms crossed, not even wiping away the tears that streamed down her face.
In those eyes, more than any desire to scold me, there was worry and apology. I slowly got up, went to her, and gently dabbed her tears with the sleeve of my hospital gown.
"Mother, I'm really okay... I was a little scared, but you protected me like this, didn't you?"
"...I contacted the school. They've given permission for you not to attend until next year."
"What? What do you mean..."
I wiped Mother's tears with my sleeve and waited for her to calm down. When she had settled somewhat, the words she spoke were ones I hadn't expected at all.
Until next year—meaning she wouldn't allow me, currently ten years old, to go to school until I turned twelve. I looked at her with startled eyes, questioning whether I'd heard correctly.
Mother met my gaze with unwavering eyes and told me again that she would send me back when I entered the fifth grade of elementary school. I had expected some protective measures, but this was stronger than I'd anticipated.
Of course, that didn't mean I could argue with or refuse the decision. I had clearly overestimated myself, caused an incident, and worried the precious people around me.
I nodded slightly and said I understood. At that, Mother seemed to well up again; she cried as she hugged me and patted my back.
It was an event that made painfully clear just how much of a weak position a child—a man—occupied in this world.
I was angry. So incredibly angry. But I couldn't express that anger—all I could do was cry.
"...I'm sorry."
Those words from the child tore my heart to shreds. Lately I'd been starting to believe that Harang carried memories of living in another world, but it was still so alien.
When Harang was in the hospital and I was quietly watching over him, he had been a child who showed his fear when he was scared and teared up when he was in pain.
And now that same child stood before me—clearly having been terrified and hurt—wearing only a faint smile, pretending to be mature, saying he was fine. It made me so angry.
Why wouldn't he just be a little kid in front of me? Why did he refuse to be weak in front of his mother? Why wouldn't he think of me as his mom? It made me so furious.
Harang's mature attitude felt cold, as if he were telling me I was someone who had nothing to do with him, and it hurt.
I told Harang about the school situation while he was wiping my tears. For a boy who loved going outside and wandering around, it was certainly something he would have reason to complain about.
If Harang had whined that he didn't like it, I would have been willing to cancel it in a heartbeat.
But Harang just looked a little surprised, then nodded slightly and answered that he understood, with a look of resignation. That composure made me so angry.
Feeling the tears well up again, I gently wrapped Harang in my arms. I didn't know why he insisted on being only an adult even in front of me and my husband—why he wouldn't look at our family as his family—but if that was the case, then I simply had to try harder.
Patting the child's small back, I made a vow. I would protect this child no matter what. I would become a trustworthy adult he could lean on and act spoiled with.
And I would earn his recognition as his family.