Father and Son
"...Hoon."
A voice called out. It was full of longing and sorrow. I thought I had to turn around, over and over. But my body wouldn't obey that urge. Hunched neck. Shoulders slumped as if cowering. A back curved so stubbornly it seemed proud of its bend, refusing to straighten. Everything about my own body was working against me. It was my body, so why wouldn't it follow orders?
"Ah..."
I barely managed to move my hand. It trembled violently, like I was having a seizure. Just as I gripped the desk with that shaking hand and tried to shift my position—
Bang! Crash!
The sound of shattering glass rang out. The sharp stench of alcohol assaulted my nose relentlessly. My head spun, my mind grew hazy, and I lost all will to do anything. And then— I remembered.
This is a dream...
All of it was a dream. The karma I kept reliving, over and over. Of course my body wouldn't move properly. Back then, I was a total wreck, a shell of a man. Of course my voice wouldn't carry. I was drowned in booze, barely able to speak. No matter how many times I tried to turn around, there was nothing I could do. A hole had punched through my heart, and something formless oozed out from the center, slithering down.
That's why I turned away. Using my own suffering as an excuse, I refused to look at my one and only child.
I smashed another bottle. The glass already broken, I gulped straight from it. The soju's burn filled my gut and my mind, pulling my consciousness farther away. The film cut out, my vision spun idly. Recognizing the familiar prelude to blackout, he let his mind go slack. In the corner of his collapsing field of view—
Kang Sung-hoon.
The name tag of his one and only son, the last one remaining.
As consciousness faded, his mind barely managed a thought.
What day is it today...?
A fleeting notion. And right before blacking out—
"No idea."
......
"Gasp!!!"
He jolted awake. Clutching his pounding chest, he bowed his head. The dizziness was overwhelming. He felt like he was going insane. That's when—
"Hye-seong! Are you okay!?"
A woman beside him offered concern. Lee Na-eun. She was too good for someone like him. Na-eun pulled a PET bottle from her handbag.
"Drink some water, Hye-seong."
Kang Hye-seong drained the entire bottle. He gulped it down obsessively, not even registering the sensation of water hitting his throat. On the verge of forgetting to breathe—
"Pha...!"
Hye-seong finally exhaled. He fought back the urge to choke, enduring it with superhuman restraint.
"Hoo..."
He sighed, leaning back against the seat. Staring out the window, he realized they were on a train. He glanced behind him. No one there, so he reclined his chair naturally. His back was soaked. The train was dry inside, so it had to be his own cold sweat. Hye-seong gazed at the ceiling and sighed again.
"Nightmare?"
Na-eun asked, her face etched with worry—but she didn't pry for details.
Hye-seong looked at her.
"Sorry. But it wasn't a nightmare."
He added quickly so she wouldn't worry. A dream about his son wasn't a nightmare. For most, that would end it. But Na-eun knew Hye-seong too well. She hesitated a moment, then spoke carefully.
"...Something from the past?"
"Yeah. It's all in the past now."
Hye-seong confirmed it. It was irretrievable history.
"Can I hear it?"
Na-eun asked gently. Hearing that, Hye-seong began slowly. The past events. How he'd become a worthless wreck. How he'd left his only son, Kang Sung-hoon, all alone. Na-eun listened quietly. She'd heard it multiple times before, so she just gave him her full attention. When Hye-seong finished, Na-eun spoke.
"It was clearly your fault, Hye-seong."
She said it firmly, concisely. No sugarcoating. No denial. Just the plain truth. Hye-seong preferred it that way. Excusing it would make him less than human in some way. Hye-seong opened his mouth slowly.
"I want to apologize sincerely. To my son, as a father."
"I'll support you whenever. As many times as it takes, until you succeed."
Na-eun said that, lifting her shopping bag. It was stuffed with local specialties bought on the way back from her business trip.
"Maybe eating something tasty will help patch things up?"
Hearing her positive words, Hye-seong leaned back.
"Zzz... Zzz..."
Soon, he was asleep. Unlike before, no nightmares this time. The road home to a house with his son was arduous, full of tension.
"......"
"......"
The father and son sat facing each other. Kang Hye-seong and Kang Sung-hoon. They looked unmistakably like father and son. The one difference from a normal relationship—
"Where's Da-eun?"
"Out eating. She's at that age where she's always hungry."
—was the endless awkwardness. The air between them was parched, like estranged family reuniting after years apart. The two fell silent again. Hye-seong's face showed subtle emotion, but Sung-hoon didn't twitch.
'He shows nothing...'
Hye-seong sighed inwardly. This was his son, and he was the father—yet they knew nothing of each other. The difference? Hye-seong hadn't paid attention to Sung-hoon, but Sung-hoon hadn't paid attention to Hye-seong either.
Hye-seong bowed his head, fleeing. Looking at his last remaining family stirred guilt that stabbed his chest relentlessly. Regret, self-loathing, reproach—the emotions that should pour from a son neglected by his father—Sung-hoon showed none. One could call it maturity. But Hye-seong didn't see it that way.
His throat burned. As that thought crossed Hye-seong's mind, Sung-hoon stood.
"I'll get some water."
He brought water without being asked. Before Hye-seong could touch his, Sung-hoon took a sip from his own.
"...Where are Da-eun and Na-eun?"
A short question. Kang Hye-seong paused. He had to answer. But first—
"...Sung-hoon."
He called the name carefully. Sung-hoon didn't look up. He just stared at his glass.
"I have something to say."
"...Okay."
The curt reply made it harder. Hye-seong took a breath. As Sung-hoon went to sip his water—
"I'm getting married."
"Pfft—!"
Water sprayed out, onto the table, the floor—and Hye-seong.
"Cough, cough... What?! Out of nowhere...!"
Sung-hoon finally showed some emotion, flustered. Of course. What kid wants to see their dad get married? Sung-hoon grabbed tissues and wiped as if nothing happened. But his ears were slightly red from embarrassment.
"Say it again...?"
"I'm getting married."
"...When?"
"Not right now."
Sung-hoon listened silently. When his father finished, he spoke.
"...Why?"
Short and direct. Kang Hye-seong averted his gaze briefly, then met it squarely, as if vowing only truth.
"...Na-eun said she's never had a wedding."
"....."
"She raised Da-eun like that."
Sung-hoon had heard this before. Na-eun's ex-husband was trash. From Da-eun's mouth. Never even had a wedding? The fact sank into Sung-hoon's mind like melting ice. He spoke quietly, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it.
"...So?"
"I want to give her one."
Quiet words. That was all. No grand reason, no lofty meaning. Just—because he wanted to. For Na-eun, who never had one and was remarrying.
"......"
Sung-hoon took another sip. He thought briefly of Na-eun. No strong feelings.
'This is Hye-seong's son. Take care of him.'
'I have a daughter about your age too.'
'If you don't want me with your dad—tell me.'
The most memorable words from her.
"I'll break it off right away, if that's what makes you happy."
Firm eyes. No lies. Prioritizing Sung-hoon's feelings over her own. Sung-hoon had no intention of blocking his dad and Na-eun. He'd welcome it with open arms. So he stood.
"If it's what you want, Dad, I'll respect it."
He said that and went to his room, closing the door. Hye-seong stared at it.
"Do I even qualify as your father?"
No answer came. A wooden door couldn't reply.
I flopped onto my bed. Surprised he came back early from his trip, but announcing marriage? Unbelievable.
"Marriage... marriage..."
I sorted my thoughts slowly. But they wouldn't organize.
"Never thought I'd live to see my dad get married."
A son watching his father's wedding. Most recorded it on VOD, but I'd get the full 5D experience. No need to overthink. Just let Dad do what he wants. No reason or will to stop it.
Because—
"I'm the one who pushed him into this new start."
I went to my desk. Two vitamin pills from the hospital prescription. Popped them in and chugged water. Dizzy. But bearable. Nothing compared to when Dad was broken.
As I lay back down, my smartphone buzzed.
A vision of horrific cooking flashed in my mind. But after board game club drama and Dad's remarriage bombshell, my soul was drained.
Whatever. Future me can deal.
I tossed my phone on the bed.
"Future me's got this."
The next day. Park Ha-yoon came to our house.