Neither Here Nor There
Our household has always been on the strict side.
And the reason for that is none other than Dad.
Unlike Mom, who treats us with warmth and kindness, Dad maintains a consistently heavy, almost indifferent manner. Whether you chalk it up to the era he grew up in or simply call it sternness, he has a way of carrying himself that leaves little room for casual familiarity.
Because of that, even when my friends spoke casually with their own parents as a sign of closeness, our house was different — we always had to address our parents with formal speech. It wasn't that I particularly hated it, but sometimes that heavy atmosphere made it feel like I could barely breathe.
Thanks to our parents, we'd never had to worry about money, so maybe this was nothing more than a petty complaint. Still.
"What the hell is this supposed to be?"
That already heavy voice gained weight. The hierarchy that had been burned into me since childhood pressed down hard.
Song Haneul might have gotten away with a little nasal whining, playing the daughter card — but I never could.
How was I supposed to explain a pregnancy test?
He already knew what it was. Treating Dad like an idiot would only backfire. And if I claimed I'd just been checking something casually, the whole house could go up in flames. It would be trashing Song Haneul's image rather than "mine," sure — but the moment he demanded to know who the other party was and told us to bring them home, I'd have no choice but to hang my head in silence.
This wasn't a simple lie. We'd brought the test home and used it. There was no wriggling out of that. Dig deep enough and we'd both end up confessing, which would be even worse.
The real headache was that even though son and daughter were twins of the same age, the mere difference in gender meant they were treated completely differently.
"…Song Hamin said he'd gotten a girlfriend, went out, and brought it back yesterday, I think."
I didn't exactly want to trash my own image like this either. But if you asked who was better off taking the fall for bringing it home, it had to be the son. Throwing Song Haneul under the bus would just lead to the question of who the partner was — and then we'd both be dead, the whole family atmosphere wrecked. Better that Song Hamin become the son who went around swinging his dick however he pleased. Honestly, something like this could even pass as a minor incident.
"I thought he just got out of the military. Already?"
"Yes, well. He's been going out drinking a lot, too."
"Is that so? …Even so. When did he get discharged again?"
I'd sent a text when I was discharged, but it seemed to have slipped past him without much notice. As Dad started fumbling around as if to dig up the message, I carefully layered in a reply.
"About three weeks ago."
"And it wasn't even right after he got out. What… he went to the convenience store?"
"Yes. Yes."
Speak of the devil — Song Haneul, who'd been outside, came walking slowly back in. I'd lied and said he'd gone to the convenience store, and apparently he'd actually gone all the way there just to sell the detail. I'd told him to just hang out on the stairs and come back saying there was nothing to buy, but no — he had to go the extra mile.
"You get out of the military and immediately cause an accident?"
"Huh?"
He hadn't even taken his phone, so he had no idea what was going on. Song Haneul shot me a glance like he'd just been ambushed. He clearly wanted an explanation, but in a situation like this I couldn't exactly open my mouth either. All I could do was wait for Dad to fill him in.
"Getting a girlfriend is one thing, fine — but at least don't go speedrunning into a marriage. Before a man even gets his feet under him, if he gets his nose ringed, he can't do a damn thing. You understand?"
"Yes…"
Dad's quiet scolding left him looking wronged, but somehow he still managed to answer properly. From behind, I quietly signaled that the test had been discovered — for Song Haneul's sake. I hoped he'd gotten the message.
"Tsk. For the time being, make sure you check properly. And if you're going to see her again, manage things better next time."
With that, Dad went into his room. The moment I heard the sound of him changing clothes through the closed door, I grabbed Song Haneul and pulled him into my room. His room was far too cramped, and I had no desire to create the weird visual of Song Hamin coming out of Song Haneul's room.
"I told him I brought it back from doing it with your girlfriend."
"My girlfriend?"
"More precisely, I said you got a girlfriend and then brought it home. Just go with that for now."
"…But what did he mean by check properly for the time being?"
Song Haneul raised the question like something about it was nagging at him. I didn't know much about that part either, so I joined in the confusion.
"Probably because checking once or twice isn't enough. Isn't that why you bought two of them?"
"I just bought two in case one failed. Don't you know anything about this?"
"I'd have to have used one of these before to know. Weren't you the one who went? Didn't the pharmacist say anything?"
"I bought them at the convenience store…"
So we'd just used them without knowing a thing. As it turned out, Dad knew more than either of us.
"Check the box instructions."
"I left them thrown in the room."
"Ah, right. …Talk on your phone from now on."
Dad could finish changing and come out any minute. He might wash up in the master bathroom, but this was absolutely not the time to invite any more misunderstandings, so I hurried out to the room.
I went into Song Haneul's room and found the small box we'd tossed aside earlier. Pulling out the enclosed instruction sheet and reading it slowly, a couple of sentences jumped out and lodged themselves in my eyes.
Two weeks after the last sexual intercourse.
First morning urine.
Before that, it said, the test was completely ineffective.
You'd have to have tried this stuff before to know any of it. We'd known just enough to be dangerous — vaguely, half-assedly — and figured we could just use them however. So we'd gone and wasted them for nothing.
Kids these days, right? Though on this end, I'd been the one jumped without any preparation at all.
Understanding what Dad had meant by "check properly for the time being," I felt the road ahead go dark. At first I'd been relieved, thinking we'd lucked out — but now that I'd read this, I couldn't even hold on to that relief. The words Dad had spoken ended up digging into my own chest as well.
Wanting to confirm the facts, I attached an image. I could practically hear the sigh come through.
Fair point.
After yesterday I should have been irritated and exhausted, but a different kind of crisis kept any other thoughts from forming properly. I'd never even imagined Dad would show up at a timing like this, so there was a definite sense of being caught completely off guard. If he was going to come, a little heads-up would've been nice. Even a day in advance. Showing up at the doorstep and announcing he was coming in — what were we supposed to do with that?
It wasn't that I disliked Dad. The situation was just the situation, and it made it hard to welcome him with pure, uncomplicated joy. An awkward mess of a predicament, really.
For now, I decided to content myself with having cleared one hurdle.
Mom at least roughly shared her schedule with us, but Dad never said a word about anything until you asked. There was an attitude baked into it — this is my house, I came home, why should I have to report that? — and he wasn't wrong. There was no real need to say anything in the first place. It just wasn't what I needed right now.
I wanted to know how long he'd be staying and how long he'd be gone, just so I could set my mind at ease. Living in Song Haneul's body was uncomfortable enough; having to actively perform as Song Haneul herself would be a living hell. Even the two days Mom had been around, reading the room had been exhausting.
"Um, Dad?"
"What."
Dad, flipping between news and newspapers on his tablet, glanced over at me through his glasses. Why was it that putting on glasses created such a subtle extra distance?
I never would have guessed that approaching him as Song Haneul — when I was actually Song Hamin — would feel this instinctively wrong. But I couldn't exactly hand this off to Song Haneul either, so I forced my mouth to move.
"How many days are you taking off this time?"
"A week."
"Where are you going next?"
"Toward Daegu… why?"
Had I grilled him too hard? I'd tried to ask carefully, unable to fully mimic a girl's particular way of speaking, but something about it must have come off awkward. Or maybe I should have cooed and fawned a little when I asked. The problem was I had zero confidence I could pull that off. Since I was physically Song Haneul, the logic went that anything I copied should work — but if I'd been capable of that, I should've become an actor. The only thing I knew how to do was talk my way just far enough out of a crisis.
"It's been so long since we saw you. I was worried you'd leave again right away and not come back."
Dad let out a short snort of a laugh at that. He gave me one look, then went back to his tablet.
Behind the relief that it had landed came the slightly bone-aching realization that he'd be staying a full week. I supposed I should be grateful that Dad, unlike Mom, never suggested going out together or doing something as a family. On the other hand, it also meant that for the stretch with nothing else to do, he'd just be home all day on his tablet and computer, which was its own kind of worrying.
Just go out and play golf with your friends or something. Did Dad's friends not play golf? Soccer, even? I'd never once seen him go out for something like that, so I knew it was a pipe dream — and all I could do was try to soothe the sour feeling in my gut.
"So, that thing about submitting somewhere — how's that going?"
"Oh— ah. Yes… I've been working on it. I'll submit soon. First half of next year."
"Good. I'm sure you'll manage fine. And you?"
Dad's attention swung over to "me."
"Sorry?"
"It's fine to loaf around after the military, but you need to re-enroll next year."
"Uh, yes. Of course."
Both Song Haneul and I somehow managed to answer Dad's questions adequately. I never would have guessed a meal could be this draining; my throat felt tight.
When I finally finished the day and got into my room, I could at last let my guard down and rest. Now that Dad was here, it'd be better to skip breakfast and just throw something together alone for lunch.
The silver lining was that I didn't have to sit around awkwardly with Song Haneul or fight with him right this second. The problem was that everything was still only on hold — we still hadn't decided anything for certain.
Neither here nor there. What the hell was this even supposed to be?
Putting things off never helped anyone, but the fact that I couldn't firmly decide anything either left me feeling stifled. My heart felt clenched tight under the weight of it all.
I tossed and turned in my creaking body, trying to find a comfortable position. It took a full two hours before I finally managed to fall asleep. It had been that kind of day.