I Opened My Eyes at a Wedding

"How many times do I have to say it? Somebody has to sit at the gift table, and it's not like I have any brothers, so it has to be you."

"Couldn't you have asked someone else?"

"Hey, keep whining like that and I won't do it at your wedding."

"Unlike you, Kim Yi-seon, I have plenty of friends I could ask, so I'll manage."

"When you say it like that, it sounds like I don't have a single friend in the world besides you."

Inside the car heading to the venue, my hands now well accustomed to the wheel. Kang Min-hyuk had shown up in a skin-tight suit that looked borrowed from somebody. Honestly, seeing that idiot dressed in something so stiff and dignified was so absurd I nearly burst out laughing the moment I saw him.

And because I'd let a little snort escape at that ridiculous getup, he'd been sulking and grumbling ever since. What a chore.

So why, despite a full day of his whining, had I swallowed my usual instincts and personally picked this guy up and driven him to the venue? One reason.

I'd only vaguely known this before I started planning my own wedding, but apparently a groom absolutely needs his groomsmen — his best men, the friends on the groom's side of the aisle.

Since when did you need friends to get married? Is this the universe telling loners not to bother?

Of course, unlike the antisocial Manboong-i of my past life, Kim Yi-seon in this one is an in-the-loop sports star, so it wasn't that I had no one to ask. It just so happened that the most conveniently available human being was this moody bastard sitting next to me, so here he was, dragged along against his will.

He's tall and healthy enough, at least. Guiding guests and manning the gift table should be well within his abilities.

After venting his grievances for a good long while, Kang Min-hyuk finally ran out of things to complain about and went quiet. Then, uncharacteristically, he collected himself and lobbed a question my way.

"What does it feel like? Getting married."

"What does it feel like. I can't even think about that right now."

We'd filed the marriage registration the day before yesterday, and there was already a baby on the way. The ceremony was, at its heart, a formality — a kind of confirmation to make sure the bond between Ye-eun and me didn't pass by half-baked, rather than the thing that truly made us married.

So when I first started preparing, I'd gone into it completely relaxed. Figured it would be nothing. If anything, I'd assumed the real burden would just be the busywork of the preparations themselves.

"White hair, trembling muscles, a heart hammering out of my chest. I wasn't like this even during the Phoenix Flag Tournament. Or the Korean Series."

"That tracks. By your standards, today's probably a tougher fight than any of those games."

But now that the day had actually arrived — no. It was nothing like that. I was nervous beyond all reason. I'd already declared I'd live happily with Ye-eun, and this was just an event where people would congratulate us. Why did it keep making my nerves fray?

No twists, no variables, an event guaranteed to end nicely — I couldn't understand why it terrified me so much. Kang Min-hyuk was probably starting to think about marriage with his girlfriends himself and fishing for tips, but I had exactly zero wisdom to offer.

Except for one.

"Don't pull that 'small wedding' nonsense at yours."

When I'd first started planning, I'd insisted we keep it modest — just family and close acquaintances, a quiet, beautiful little venue. Ye-eun secretly harbored a bit of a romantic streak for that kind of thing.

A cathedral wedding was out since neither of us was a churchgoer, but you know the type — a ceremony in a forest or lakeside with gorgeous scenery rolling out around you.

So I'd browsed venues, gotten a headcount of the guests in advance, and set out to book somewhere that could actually hold them all...

"Turns out the people who'll show up for you and for me are probably about the same — and it was honestly beyond anything I imagined. There was no way to keep it small."

Start with the groom's side: baseball teammates from middle and high school, players and their families from the club, key club officials. Min-ah's mother wasn't just my mother-in-law but my lead agent, so the legal world came calling too, and then there were the Seoul Group people who followed Seo-hee around.

And then Ye-eun's side as the bride... Would you believe me if I said the entire groom's guest list didn't even amount to half of hers? Ye-eun really was something else.

The moment that many guests were on the list, the "small wedding" idea was dead on arrival, so I'd quietly booked a respectable wedding hall in Seoul instead. I'd thrown a ridiculous amount of money at it, so the atmosphere should at least be decent.

"I see. Then I'll have to do mine here as well."

"Sure. Think of it as scouting the venue. And helping out. We're here, by the way."

And so Min-hyuk and I had just arrived at the wedding hall. I'd been so wound up that we'd come far too early — not a single familiar face or acquaintance's car in sight, and Ye-eun, who was supposed to arrive in her father's car, was nowhere to be seen either.

Clutching my still-racing heart, I walked slowly into the venue.

Obvious as it sounds, there was a mountain of work to do even before the main ceremony.

"Groom, we'll escort you this way."

"We'll handle your makeup over here."

"This is the final confirmation form from the catering company. I'll need your signature one last time."

Come here, go there, sign this, confirm that.

I'd already gone over most of it during the preparations, but having to redo everything in person on the day itself left me dizzy enough to see stars. Off to one side I could spot Kang Min-hyuk being dragged around by a staff member being briefed on a groomsman's duties, and he looked absurdly busy over there too. And I was expected to do this two more times after today. Genuinely daunted, honestly.

Then, after being hauled this way and that for what felt like ages, one line from a staff member snapped me wide awake.

"Groom, it's time for your final standby before the processional. Please don't leave the room once we begin?"

"Sorry — already?"

"Already? The ceremony starts in one hour."

Huh?

I let out a dopey sound and turned my eyes to the clock. Sure enough, it was somehow already one hour to ceremony time.

I was positive we'd arrived plenty early with ages to spare. I blinked and the time just vanished.

Come to think of it, once my head cleared and I actually listened, the murmur of guests was swelling loudly through the hall. Thinking back, I'd apparently exchanged greetings with a few people while half out of my mind...

And now, in the lull, the tension I'd forgotten came flooding back. A light sweat, stiffening muscles, a heart pounding heavy in my chest — that state again.

So the old joke about married men snapping out of a daze to find themselves standing in front of the wedding hall wasn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a lie after all. I wasn't speaking in metaphor — it genuinely felt like I'd blinked a few times and suddenly I was in the groom's waiting room, minutes from my entrance.

Once I registered that fact, time stopped flowing entirely. And I couldn't muster the will to busy myself with anything else, either.

Exchanging a few light greetings with guests trickling into the waiting room and staring at the clock — that was the entire sum of what I did.

"Kim Yi-seon. You holding up?"

Somehow word of my state had reached him, because Kang Min-hyuk came looking for me.

Normally I'd have snapped something like, where the hell did you abandon the gift bucket, get back out there and guide the guests — but what actually came out of my mouth was something else entirely.

"Hey... am I shaking?"

Because I was. Trembling at the most blessed moment of your life is a pathetic look on anyone.

Kang Min-hyuk, who would normally have tossed back some retort, said nothing this time and simply fell silent. I couldn't tell why. Did I really look that pitiful?

I honestly couldn't explain it, but my state kept worsening ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠until my whole body trembled past the point of holding itself up. It even crossed my mind that at this rate the groom's entrance itself might be beyond me.

Enough was enough. I decided I had to stop this shaking, even just for a moment, and was about to ask Kang Min-hyuk to run out and grab me some calming herbal medicine when—

"Kim Yi-seon."

And at the same moment, Min-hyuk opened the mouth that had been shut.

"I don't really understand what it is you're afraid of. I haven't married yet myself."

Kang Min-hyuk spoke slowly, deliberately, as if choosing each word with great care.

"But there is one thing I know very well."

"What."

"That Kim Yi-seon is not a man who runs from fear. If anything, you're the type to charge straight in — damn the consequences."

Then he flashed that insufferable smile of his, turned on his heel, and walked out of the waiting room.

"Come to think of it, you charged in when you started dating, too. That was about the training-camp issue, wasn't it? Getting cold feet over a wedding at this point is stranger than anything. Just run at it full speed."

That bastard really does hand out brutal honesty like it's not his problem.

"Even if I wanted to charge in, I'd like to know what I'm charging at."

And I turned that hopeless advice of his over in my head one more time.

Don't run from fear. Well, of course I never had — every fear until now had been one I could handle.

This body was a certified, author-endorsed wellspring of talent. It hurled pitches of monstrous velocity and came stocked with freakish natural physicality. Injury was a concern, sure, but managed properly, it posed no real obstacle to playing baseball.

So when I faced fear with confidence and defiance, what I was really trusting — all along — was never me. It was my body, and the character settings attached to it.

The high school stage? The national team? The pros? The text itself said Kim Yi-seon's body had more than enough talent to thrive there. In baseball, I had feared nothing and stood tall.

But right now, none of that applied. This wasn't baseball — and the fear I was facing was, ironically, the manga itself—

Ah.

Lee Ye-eun was thoroughly exhausted today.

Ever since the baby, fatigue had piled up faster than before, but today's schedule had been brutal enough that she felt her strength draining straight out of her. It would never actually happen, of course, but she caught herself thinking that doing this wedding business twice would be too much.

After spending ages playing bride's maid, working the guests, and graciously soaking up all the exclamations about how lovely her dress was, the time had somehow arrived for the main ceremony to begin.

"Yi-seon, that boy... I always knew a day like this would come, but he went and broke the speed limit doing it... Your father... Your father is..."

Beside her, her father clutched her hand and wept in total silence. He poured out tears by the bucketful without so much as a sniffle or a sob — she hadn't known that was even possible.

Then came the soothing of him — I'll visit often, you can come to our place anytime, I'll even build a room for the in-laws in the house — followed by another short wait for the bridal processional.

And at last, the emcee's voice boomed through the microphones.

"The bride will now make her entrance."

The staff swung open the doors to the hall, and there at the far end stood the officiant — and the back of the one dumb idiot she loved.

Thanks to the COVID distancing guidelines, the guests were seated sparsely across the wide space and couldn't cheer aloud, but the applause alone was loud enough to swallow the entire hall.

Yes — in practice, everything had long since been accomplished. But this was the moment she had wanted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠most in the world. Lee Ye-eun felt a surge of emotion so overwhelming she could briefly forget her sobbing father beside her — unfamiliar, and delightful.

One step at a time. For some reason her father's pace was slower than usual, and so she walked the virgin road gently, in time with him, until she reached the destination of a lifetime.

"Yi-seon... I have so much I want to say to you, young man... but today, let this one be enough. Ye-eun — I leave her in your hands."

"...Yes, sir."

Only then did Lee Ye-eun sense that something, somewhere, was off.

Wait. Something is seriously wrong with Kim Yi-seon right now.

Under normal circumstances I might not have managed to keep a straight face watching the old man cry his eyes out. But right now I had no emotional room left to laugh or cry over anything.

Ye-eun's hand, passed to me from her father. Luckily she wore gloves, so my damp palm would escape notice — but the trembling would not, and that alone had me wound tight.

This wedding was for Ye-eun. So I had to show her nothing but my best and leave behind nothing but good memories, and yet—

"Kim Yi-seon. Off pondering pointless things again?"

But that single line from Ye-eun, murmured at a volume only I could hear, had me fighting just to keep my expression from cracking.

"...No."

"No, my foot. Hah... honestly. I have no idea what it is this time, but whatever it is, it's a pointless worry. So let it go and relax."

Did Ye-eun secretly have a talent for ventriloquism? She kept talking to me without the slightest sign of it — even the officiant standing right in front of us didn't seem to hear a word. I couldn't fathom the mechanism. Was this martial-arts-style voice transmission?

Being gifted with no such talent, I couldn't answer. I simply nodded.

Ye-eun let out a sigh, and then just held my hand tightly.

I'm doomed. I'm getting an earful the second this is over.

Normally that thought alone would have terrified me, but even that feeling wouldn't come. If anything, some strange part of me almost wished for it.

With the bride's entrance complete, the ceremony moved on to its next order of business. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chairman of Wirye Jeil High's board — someone I'd invited specially thanks to our old high school connection — was delivering his boilerplate officiant's address, blessing our marriage in measured tones.

"Many trials await these two on the road ahead. In joy and in sorrow, in hardship and in delight, in pain and in happiness, may they hold faith and trust in one another as husband and wife..."

So hackneyed an address that a few guests were surely dozing off in their seats. But one line caught in my ear and stayed there.

"...and together forever, until death do the two of you part..."

Together forever.

Right. Marriage is a declaration that you'll stay together forever.

But could I actually do that?

Turning Kang Min-hyuk's advice over in my mind, I finally recognized the true shape of the anxiety I'd been carrying.

The fear of not knowing whether this life would truly last until I died — whether, until death parted us, I could actually stay by her side.

"And now, these two have become husband and wife. Wishing only happiness on the road ahead of Kim Yi-seon and Lee Ye-eun, the couple will now make their vows."

I had been reborn into this world in the most absurd way imaginable. Or maybe that wasn't even the cause anymore — honestly, I wasn't sure.

I'd been living my perfectly normal, perfectly fine life, blinked once, and been reborn as a newborn in this world.

So then — what if it happened again? Who was to say a thing that happened once couldn't happen twice?

What if I surfed the web one day, posted one wrong comment, and got shipped off to a fantasy world this time — or what if all of this turned out to have been a dream, and I woke up to the sound of "Hyung, this lunatic's smiling at his screen?" and despaired that it had all been nothing? How would I ever know?

Once I looked that nameless fear dead in the eye, it only grew more frightening. Could I really stand here and swear myself to Ye-eun when I had no idea when I might vanish? Worrying about this after a child was already on the way was laughable, I knew — but could I truly, honestly go through with it?

My sweat had stopped merely beading and was starting to run in earnest.

The ceremony called for me to turn to Ye-eun and seal our vows with a kiss — and I could hardly bear to even look at her.

But it had to be done. Turning away here would be the far greater disaster.

Gritting my teeth, hiding the trembling and the terror as best I could, I slowly turned my body toward Ye-eun.

And the Ye-eun looking back at me was—

"Honestly. What would you even do without me, Kim Yi-seon?"

— smiling, radiantly.

"Look at you, dripping sweat. What on earth is this worry of yours? Don't tell me it's something as ridiculous as 'what if I die and leave her behind?'"

She said it like a joke, but it was razor-sharp. Wrong on the details — dead-on in essence.

"Kim Yi-seon. Look at me."

And then, off-script from the ceremony entirely, she took my cheeks in both hands. A ripple of astonishment ran through the watching guests, but Ye-eun didn't spare it a flicker of attention.

"So. Say I'm dying tomorrow — are you going to throw me away?"

Her eyes held the absolute certainty that I never would. And a will that declared that even if I vanished the very next day, she would never once consider letting go of what was hers.

And looking at that, the tension drained out of me all at once, and the fear gnawing at my chest evaporated in a single instant.

"No. I'm spending the rest of my life glued to Lee Ye-eun's side."

Really. Me, of all people, agonizing over the nature of my own existence. How unbecoming.

If I disappeared from this world tomorrow, then so be it — until then, I'd love my women and play my baseball, and that would be enough. It would truly grieve me if that day came, but it was no reason to run from today.

"Then what are you going to do about it?"

Ye-eun said it with a mischievous grin, having clearly read the calm in me.

Before the words had even finished leaving her mouth, I pressed my lips to hers — and swept her up into my arms.

All around us, the cheers the distancing guidelines had forbidden finally burst out, impossible to hold back any longer.

And so I made my promise to Ye-eun — that we would be together forever. Just as I always had been.