Future Dreams (1)
As obvious as it may sound, having had a wedding doesn't mean the ending credits rolled on my life.
It was certainly a special event, but it didn't mark the end of my existence, and daily life carried on just the same afterward.
There was still the winter special training camp to plan for next year's Seoul Twins season, Seo-hee noona to look after now that the Stove League had her buried in work, and plenty to do for Ye-eun, whose body was starting to show her pregnancy enough that people could tell at a glance.
On top of that, we finally had to deal with moving into our newlywed home (which turned out easier than expected—throw a dozen-odd grown men at the job and the whole thing, cleaning included, gets done in the blink of an eye), and, come to think of it, I'd briefly forgotten that contract negotiations for next season's salary had already kicked off after the season ended.
In short, all sorts of small life chores kept piling up to nag at me, but the biggest hurdle among them was this one.
"Yi-seon oppa. Why are *you* the one shaking?"
"Min-ah. Too much caffeine might make you jittery, so hold off on that. And a full stomach might sit heavy, so if you're not hungry, don't force yourself to eat. I'm packing you chocolate, so just have that."
That's right—it was Min-ah's CSAT today.
Min-ah held my hands tightly clasped in hers, wearing the expression of someone thoroughly baffled by the veteran's advice I kept dispensing. Annoyed, even.
But I couldn't help it. I never knew this back in my past life when I took the CSAT myself, but living through this life as not even a test-taker but a *test-taker's family member* had taught me how serious this worry really was.
Of course, someone with Min-ah's ability would get through it smoothly, but what if she made a careless mistake, or her condition was off? The worrying was such that a few days before the exam, I'd even temporarily chased the seniors living at our house out of it. Training camp or not, Min-ah's exam mattered more.
After preparing the care package and the last of my veteran tips, I addressed Min-ah with desperate sincerity.
"Just in case, I put the heart medicine in the very front pocket of your bag. Got it?"
"I've got it, now let go. I'm going to be late for check-in."
"Right, go!"
I forced my trembling hands—which absolutely would not stop shaking from worry—to release hers, and waved until the very last moment as Min-ah stepped out of the car.
Honestly, I was so nervous you'd think *I* was the one sitting the CSAT.
---
Kang Min-ah was thinking that Kim Yi-seon was being excessive with all this.
For starters, she'd originally planned to take public transit to the test site today, but he'd insisted that was nonsense and strong-armed her into riding in the car he drove himself.
She could understand the desire to personally see her off, and the worry that taking public transit might lead to some kind of incident. But honestly, riding in Kim Yi-seon's car attracted more unwanted attention, because people couldn't stop staring.
People were whispering around her right now, weren't they? She genuinely couldn't tell whether Kim Yi-seon underestimated his own star power or wildly overestimated it.
Even if the Travel itself was a common car, how many blue Travels out there were decked out with Seoul Twins merchandise inside and a decoration on the rear window reading something like *Pregnant Woman on Board*? There couldn't be more than one.
Any fan who knew even a little about Kim Yi-seon recognized that car as his instantly. And now that he'd gotten out of it, even people who didn't know his face could deduce that she was, roughly speaking, Kim Yi-seon's girlfriend.
She gets noticed because of Kim Yi-seon, and now Kim Yi-seon is fussing over her. This was turning into the exact opposite of her original goal, wasn't it?
Lost in such thoughts, harboring a flicker of complaint, she headed for the main gate—where an unexpected person was waiting.
"Mom?"
"Our daughter takes her CSAT and doesn't even tell her own mother properly. How mean can you be?"
It was her mother.
Kang Min-ah asked, flustered.
"How did you even know I'd be here...?"
Her mother was a busy woman to begin with, so Min-ah hadn't even thought of inviting her. She'd never told her the location of the testing center in the first place.
"How? Kim, my dear son-in-law, told me, of course."
"I clearly told him not to..."
"And you thought he'd actually listen if you told him that?"
...He'd always been a bit of a blabbermouth, granted, but she'd assumed that if she explicitly ordered him to keep quiet, he'd manage it. Apparently not.
She was still figuring out how to scold him about this once the exam was over when her mother cut through her thoughts.
"Kim was so worried about our daughter? Kept saying she studies too hard, that she's going to collapse at this rate."
"Please tell him it's needless worry. He worries *far* too much. If eight hours of study a day counts as overdoing it, how does anyone survive school?"
"That's what's charming about him, isn't it? He's an open book."
Anyone could see she was stealthily coming to Kim Yi-seon's defense. Watching this, Min-ah honestly couldn't tell whose daughter she was. What was it about Kim Yi-seon that made every woman of her mother's generation light up the moment they laid eyes on him?
Kang Min-ah let out a sigh at the situation and tried to change the subject.
"So. What brings you here?"
"What, a mother can't come see her daughter off on CSAT day to cheer her on?"
"It's clearly not for that, so don't beat around the bush."
For one thing, the mother Min-ah knew wasn't the type. For another, even now her mother kept glancing at her, clearly holding something back—that was evidence number two.
Only after Min-ah directly drew the question out of her did her mother finally begin, laying down a preamble about how *of course she genuinely wanted to cheer her on too, and did Min-ah know that hurt her feelings?* before getting to the point.
"Our daughter. You still haven't told Kim why you want to enter university early, have you?"
"Why? Is there any real need to tell him?"
Whether Kim Yi-seon knew or not, nothing would change. And it wasn't as though knowing would cost him anything.
But hearing that answer, her mother let out a sigh.
"Truly, Kim takes after him so much—and you take after me too, don't you... No, never mind. Still, let me offer one piece of advice."
"Which is? There's not much time left before my exam, so please make it quick."
"Even if you think something is for the other person's own good, you still have to *talk* to them. Because you have no idea whether it might end up hurting them instead."
"... "
"I hope you'll work it out with Kim soon. Now then—do well on your exam."
---
This should have been her personal training time. Instead, there I was, sitting quietly in my car, waiting in the parking lot for Min-ah's exam to end.
If Min-ah saw me, she'd get mad and ask why I was waiting—and I could already picture the way she'd secretly be pleased about it anyway. I'd been through something similar myself. I remember watching other kids get picked up by their parents after the CSAT and feeling a tiny pang of envy.
Not parents, but a boyfriend—that's even better, right?
Every so often fans would recognize my car, come over, and ask for photos or autographs, which I happily obliged; and when too many people gathered, I'd gently ask them to give me some space for sanitation reasons. Several hours of waiting like this, and then—
The sound of a crowd pouring down the stairs, and I began to see students streaming out, finished with their exams.
"Min-ah! Over here, over here!"
The moment I spotted the crowd, I bolted out of the car on pure reflex and ran toward it. Arms swinging wide, bouncing up and down, I searched for Min-ah.
At my height, I'd have found her soon enough without the theatrics, but the sooner we found each other, the better.
"Okay, okay, I'm here, you can stop now."
"You worked hard. You feeling okay anywhere? Anything uncomfortable?"
"No."
"Good. Tired, huh? Want to head straight home, or grab a meal out?"
"Let's go home. Eating out would be impossible with all your fans swarming."
At that, Min-ah glanced around... Yeah, the jumping really shouldn't have happened, should it? Not just the fans I'd just greeted—everyone was staring this way. A few were even taking pictures with their phones.
Hmm... with the CSAT over and my worrying about Min-ah concluded, I could feel my sanity slowly returning. Which is to say: embarrassment was setting in.
Nodding along to Min-ah's judgment, I made my way back into the car as unobtrusively as I could manage, taking great care to stay out of people's sightlines.
"Phew... Well, the CSAT's done and Min-ah's worked hard, so for the next few days I'm going to stick by your side."
"By *my* side? Ye-eun unni's right there, though?"
"Ye-eun's got her mother coming to look after her personally. Besides, you two have been at it alone for a while now—it's time I spent some quality time with you too, Min-ah."
If there's one thing I know, it's how my women are feeling. She'd been busy with her own CSAT prep, and since this whole stretch was technically part of our honeymoon, she hadn't said anything out loud. But I'd caught it—that quiet, unspoken disappointment at how little time we'd been spending together, the kind she'd never admit to.
Good. This rounded things off perfectly. With Min-ah's CSAT done, the next order of business was, once the Stove League wrapped up, finding a good moment with Seo-hee noona too...
"Yi-seon oppa."
I was busy drawing up my next plan, quite satisfied with my own handling of things, when Min-ah suddenly spoke to me in a serious voice.
"Hm?"
"I haven't settled on a major yet, but long-term, I'm aiming for law school."
"Oh yeah?"
And with that, she began telling me about her future dream—the one she'd never mentioned before.
Surprisingly, until this very moment I'd had no idea at all. I'd been curious, honestly, but I'd held back from asking out of consideration, worried that pressing her might add pressure about her grades.
I figured she'd tell me eventually. Was that why she was telling me now—CSAT finished, time to submit her applications? She really did have a razor-sharp sense of timing, didn't she.
The choice itself made sense to me too. Law school, huh... Her mother-in-law-to-be was a lawyer, so mother and daughter practicing law across generations wouldn't be a bad thing. Or with a head as sharp as Min-ah's, she could become a judge or a prosecutor.
I was mulling over what to say next when Min-ah kept going, laying out her plans for the future.
"And after that, I'm going to be your agent."
"Oh, that's not a bad idea either."
Her mother-in-law-to-be does agent work almost as a side gig—since it's all family anyway, she helps nearly free of charge—but if she made a serious go of it, she'd surely succeed.
A girl like Min-ah, who takes after her, would make a fine sports agent too. Korea might just see the birth of a super agent.
But what Min-ah said next put an end to these leisurely musings of mine.
"No. I don't mean being an agent as a profession. The only players I'd ever take on are you, oppa... and maybe my brother, if I'm being generous. I have no intention of managing anyone else."
"Huh?"
"What I want to do is support you, oppa. That's all. I don't want to do anything else."
---
A cemetery on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province.
Before a well-tended headstone—which suggested the family visited often—stood a middle-aged woman.
And she stroked the stone with the same tender feeling that never diminished, no matter how many times she came.
"I guess my kids are all grown up now. Our Min-ah, the one I used to carry around everywhere, is off to university? A year early, granted... but still, time really does fly."
A voice heavy with regret. Who, seeing her like this, would ever imagine she was Han Mi-young, the razor-sharp lawyer of the courtroom?
She poured out the stories she'd been saving up for a long while, set down the flowers she'd brought with a light touch, and turned to leave.
"Oh my, my son. How long have you been standing there?"
She turned—and there stood her son, grown tall and dependable without her noticing.
At his mother's question, Kang Min-hyuk stayed silent a moment, then looked toward the headstone behind her.
"I thought you'd come here now that Min-ah has taken her CSAT. You always do."
True enough. Throughout her life, whenever something notable happened with her children, she'd come to her husband's grave and chatter on about it.
When the kids were little, she could slip away alone and they'd be none the wiser—but her son was an adult now. Knowing his mother's patterns like this, finding her here was entirely possible.
And yet, every time he witnessed a scene like this, the son couldn't help thinking how little his father lived on in him.
"You know, Min-hyuk, watching what you do, you take after your uncle more than your father. Your eyes, though—they're your father's exactly."
It was the son-in-law, who shared not a single drop of blood with her husband, who most resembled him. He looked nothing alike—only, strangely, the *air* around him was eerily similar. From the very first meeting, Attorney Han Mi-young had realized her daughter's taste ran parallel to her own.
At this irony, Han Mi-young found herself laughing despite everything.
"Look at this time, too. Your little sister goes through all the trouble of taking the qualification exam just to enter university a year early, and not once did he ask her why. Not once. And it's not that he doesn't care."
Caring was an understatement. He'd watched over that test-taker with all the anxious devotion of any mother, heart in his throat—and yet on *this* point, he wouldn't ask, reasoning that questions might add pressure. It was exactly how her husband had behaved when he was alive.
While his mother wove together laughter, memories, and complaint, the son simply nodded along in silence.
That, too, was nothing like her husband. If it had been her husband—or Kim Yi-seon—he'd have spent a long while puzzling over the true intent behind that remark with his hopelessly slow head. This earnest son of hers just took the words at face value.
And with that thought, she remembered why she'd come to the grave at all—and why her chest felt so tight right now.
"Son. Did I ever tell you? About how your father... ended up the way he did."
"...You did."
"Well, there's a bit more to that story."
Her husband had died in a sudden accident. It had been too hard to explain to the children back then, so she'd glossed over it with a simple mention of an accident. But hidden behind that was a far more complicated story.
"Let's see now. Shall I start from the beginning—how I first met your father?"
---
It isn't a very complicated story.
Han Mi-young was born into a legal dynasty that had produced not only judges and prosecutors but senior Ministry of Justice officials and professors besides.
Her story was humbler than any of that would suggest: she fell in love with an office clerk hired at the family's law firm, and resolved to marry him.
Add to that the obvious fact that the family would never approve of such a marriage.
"Back then, your mother wasn't afraid of anything in this world. I graduated university early—and passed the bar exam in the same year, mind you. Whatever the family elders said, I believed I could handle my own life."
She had no need for the family's blessing. With that conviction, she married her husband proudly, walked out of the house, and built a home for just the two of them.
It was arduous, but rewarding. Along the way, two gift-like children arrived in their lives. And so she was certain—certain that her judgment had been right.
"It was a foolish thought, wasn't it. I was the only one who was satisfied."
It wasn't that Han Mi-young hadn't worked hard through all of it. If anything, the one who held the family together was her—she, at least, had a law license, unlike her husband, who had followed her in a flight of love and been thoroughly blacklisted by the industry.
For a confident, logical woman like Han Mi-young, it was manageable work. It wasn't hard. She was happy. Every single day felt vivid and alive.
Which is to say—it was only for Han Mi-young.
"I think it all weighed on your father terribly. He told me once that he couldn't give me a single thing, and that instead he felt like a shackle around my life's ankle."
The man who might have soared through the legal world on his family's connections had chosen her—and so there he was, struggling at the bottom.
While she herself couldn't even land a proper position, and lived off being supported instead.
The reason Kang Min-hyuk and Kang Min-ah had more childhood memories of their father than of their mother was precisely because their father had been the homemaker.
And so, crushed under guilt and self-loathing, he chose to do something deeply ironic.
"So he thought: the problem, in the end, is the family elders. So I'll go to them myself, and beg."
From that day on, her husband secretly sought out her father and the other elders, kneeling and pleading for reconciliation.
He must have been desperately earnest—elders who dismissed him at first had a change of heart within mere weeks.
"And on that day, after begging and begging your grandfather for the longest time, on the way home... that's what happened."
He had likely been kneeling on the bare pavement for hours. This was the man who used to say he'd had enormous talent for baseball before an injury to his knee ended it—what must have been going through his mind?
In the end, he couldn't dodge the oncoming car, and died without ever fully reconciling with the in-laws he still, to this day, resented.
"Do you know what the funniest part is? Your mother didn't learn any of this until it was all over."
The husband's friends who came to the funeral home. The in-laws who showed up, glancing around awkwardly, wondering what face they had to come with.
Until the stories spilled from their lips, she'd had no idea her husband carried thoughts like that. He was always smiling, always happy. He was always such a good father to the children.
Kang Min-hyuk, hearing for the first time the truth behind his father's death, was struck speechless for a long moment.
And then Han Mi-young told her son why she had finally brought all this up.
"That's why, ever since then, I come here so often like this, and talk. It took me far too long. Sentimental of me, isn't it?"
"...No, it isn't."
"Of course it is. Anyway—Son, I'm not telling you this simply because you've all grown up and it's time you knew."
In the voice of a woman carrying the grief and regret of having lost her husband, she spoke to her son—and to her daughter, who wasn't there to hear it.
"Even when you believe you're acting for someone else's sake, whether they feel the same way is an entirely separate question. If you love someone, talk with them. Always. And honestly. Even if honesty wounds them, that's nothing compared to what dishonesty can bring."
Her daughter, being so much like her, would understand from the advice alone. So no problem there.
And her son-in-law—clueless as her husband had been, but foolishly, hopelessly fond of people—would surely be fine too, so long as they simply talked. There might be a clash of opinions here and there, but they would find their way to a compromise.