Knowing It in My Head
I returned home from shopping with the lady—no, with Mother.
My haul consisted of another pair of sneakers and a new backpack. It had undeniably lifted my spirits. While my current emotional state was somewhat unfamiliar to me, the reason I felt so certain of my good mood was Yeo-eun. Even though she had turned the kitchen into an absolute disaster zone, the destructive impulse inside me barely stirred. It was diminished, at least, if not entirely gone.
“So, what exactly were you trying to do here?”
“I mean… I was just going to make something for you and Jeongseo to eat.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Mom, why do you always pick on me? I had good intentions, and it’s only a little messy!”
“You call this a little messy? Open your eyes and take a good look!”
Mother was currently chewing her out. Every imaginable ingredient lay scattered across the broad dining table. She had simply dragged everything out of the cupboards without bothering to put a single thing away.
“Jeongseo, does your sister ever cook? In all my years, I’ve never once seen her lift a finger in the kitchen.”
Yeo-eun shot me a pleading, desperate look.
“No, she doesn’t.”
“See? You’re just putting on a show for me, aren’t you?”
“Aargh! No, I’m not! It’s just that you haven’t visited in so long, and I felt bad toward Jeongseo, so…”
“What? Bad about what? Did you cause trouble again?”
Watching Mother corner her like a rat in a trap, I set to work cleaning up. I still needed to unpack the items we’d bought at the department store, but the kitchen took priority.
“What trouble could I possibly cause? Do you have any idea how well I treat Jeongseo?”
“Tell me the truth.”
“Ah… It’s just because he’s always the one feeding me.”
Looking over the scattered ingredients, it seemed she had attempted to make kimchi stew. There was an absurd amount of pork piled into the pot, enough to last several meals, but that wasn’t the real issue.
“Mom. I think we have to throw all of this out.”
“What? ‘Mom’? Wait, what’s this? You call her Mom now?”
“What on earth… is this meat?”
Stepping between the two women, I lifted the pot to show them the charred, blackened lump of pork. That explained the burnt stench permeating the entire house.
“Where did I put the cane… I thought I left it in the master bedroom.”
“Come on, a cane?! How old do you think I am?!”
“Exactly. How old is my eldest daughter to be pulling an irresponsible stunt like this?”
Yeo-eun glared at me with deep resentment, but she had it coming. Judging by how thoroughly scorched the bottom was, she had turned the burner on and walked away entirely. Had she stayed anywhere near the stove, it never would have burned this badly.
“Jeongseo, go upstairs for a bit. This little wench will clean up her own mess.”
“I can help—”
“Just come back down in about thirty minutes.”
“All right.”
Seeing Mother roll up her sleeves, I quietly excused myself and headed up to my room. Before long, Yeo-eun’s shrieks echoed through the floorboards. Feeling the faint spark of irritation inside me settle back down, I began unpacking my new belongings.
In the end, I was the one who prepared dinner last night. Perhaps because Mother had come to visit, Yeo-eun pushed her livestream schedule back so we could all eat together. Throughout the meal, Yeo-eun kept glancing nervously at me, looking as if she had a mountain of things to say but couldn't dare open her mouth in front of Mother.
“Is this the place?”
“Yes.”
“Hold on a second. Let me find an empty spot…”
Today was Sunday. It was the day I had arranged to meet Dr. Jo Ihyeon, and Mother had driven me to our meeting spot. She had offered to give me a lift on her way back to the Gangwon-do factory, so I had accepted the ride—only to realize later that this wasn't on her way at all.
“Jeongseo, I’m not going to pry into your private life.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“You need to be careful about the friends you keep. You’re my son, so I can’t help but worry…”
Pulling into the parking lot, Mother launched into a steady stream of advice. Most of it revolved around being wary of women. Given that she knew the environment I had grown up in, her concerns were entirely understandable.
“I really didn’t mean to nag. I’m sorry, I went on for too long, didn’t I?”
“It’s fine. You’re only saying it because you care about me.”
“Right. You’re a smart boy, so I’ll leave it at that. Have fun with your friend, and don’t forget you can use my card.”
“Yes, thank you. I won’t do anything to worry you.”
I offered her a bright smile to put her mind at ease, making sure my posture conveyed attentive respect. Mother was someone with ironclad self-discipline. Even last night, after helping me wash the dishes, she had gone straight out to exercise instead of resting, despite having just returned home after a long absence.
Perhaps because she held herself to such rigorous standards, she and Yeo-eun clashed constantly. Mother’s lifestyle and principles were the polar opposite of her daughter’s. These days, because they spent most of their time apart, the friction between them had dulled considerably.
To someone like Mother, I must have seemed like a model son. During our daily phone calls, I always shared the details of my routine, and she thoroughly enjoyed those conversations, finding immense satisfaction in them. She had even gone so far as to remind me that getting adequate rest was just as important as working hard. Perhaps that was why she kept her advice to broad cautions rather than interrogating me about my personal affairs.
“Have a safe drive back, Mom.”
“All right. I’m sorry I can’t visit more often. Have a good time today.”
When I stepped out of the car, Mother got out as well, clearly reluctant to part so soon.
“Mom.”
“Yes, my dear son?”
When I opened my arms, Mother leaned down and wrapped me in a warm embrace. It was the first time I had ever initiated skinship like this with her. Since I had already taken the first step, I decided to go a little further.
Smooch.
“Oh my goodness.”
“Give me one too.”
After planting a kiss on her cheek, I turned my own cheek toward her. I remembered reading a post online written by a mother of sons, lamenting how heartbreaking it was when boys grew up and began shying away from physical affection.
Smooch.
“Ho-ho-ho. That’s… a little embarrassing.”
“Let’s do it often from now on. To make up for all the times we couldn't.”
Mother’s face flushed red with unmasked delight. Watching her beam with genuine happiness immediately quelled the obsessive urge inside me that demanded I pay back what I had received. That was why, regardless of age, I could engage in this kind of affection without hesitation.
The only slight sticking point was that I couldn't precisely measure the material support Mother gave me against the emotional satisfaction I provided in return. In situations like this, I simply resolved the calculation in my own favor. If the other person was happy, that was payment enough.
Slowly but surely, I was growing accustomed to the words and behaviors that women in this world found endearing in a man.
Shortly after Mother’s car pulled away, Jo Ihyeon made her appearance, walking with a noticeably unsteady gait.
“Hello.”
“Hi… Jeongseo.”
The reason for her precarious balance was immediately obvious: she was wearing high heels. It didn't look like something she wore often.
“Um… should we head to the car first?”
“Sure.”
When I had met her at the hospital, Ihyeon had looked to be around 165 to 168 centimeters tall. By the standards of this world, that was quite petite for a woman. Perhaps that was why she had forced herself into high heels.
“It’s unlocked.”
I climbed into the passenger seat. Through the windshield, the spot where I had just been standing with Mother was in plain view. I wondered when Ihyeon had arrived. I had shown up fairly early myself, which meant there was a good chance she had witnessed the scene with Mother.
“There’s a great restaurant I know nearby. Shall we get lunch first? Are you all right with Korean food?”
“Sounds great. But aren't you cold?”
“Huh? Oh… I’m fine. We’ll be driving the whole way anyway.”
As Ihyeon slid into the driver’s seat, her already short skirt hitched up even further, baring the entire expanse of her pale thighs and offering a brief glimpse of her underwear. She wore a loose, oversized knit sweater on top, yet her lower half was completely bare, without even a pair of stockings.
“Could you hand me the slippers down there?”
“Here you go.”
After swapping out her heels, she drew a deep breath. Slowly, the car began to creep forward.
Our meeting point was the parking lot of the hospital where Ihyeon worked. Since she lived nearby, I had offered to come here, figuring the bustling commercial district in the area would make a decent spot for a date.
“Do you usually get weekends off?”
“……”
The car inched sluggishly out of the parking lot. I had tossed out a casual question, but no answer came.
“Huh? What did you say?”
“Never mind. We can talk once we get to the restaurant.”
“Oh… sorry. I don’t drive very often.”
“We could have taken the bus, or even walked.”
“……”
Once again, silence. She seemed wound up like a tight spring. If driving stressed her out this much, why had she insisted on bringing the car?
She certainly doesn't have the kind of face that would lack popularity.
I quietly studied Ihyeon as she kept her mouth shut, focusing entirely on the road. In my previous life, she had the exact kind of looks that countless men would have fallen over themselves for—an intelligent, elegant face framed by a stylish brown bob, paired with a slender frame and large, voluptuous breasts.
In this world, however, things were different. Regardless of facial beauty, the moment a woman's cup size exceeded a C, she became an object of avoidance for men. Furthermore, while she seemed tall enough to my eyes, she was noticeably short among the women of this society. Among females here, an unspoken hierarchy often formed based purely on physical stature. Perhaps that was why she had described herself as nothing more than a bookworm who did nothing but study.
She probably has an inferiority complex about her height and figure. For now, that seems to be the gist of it.
Sifting through my memories, I analyzed what I knew of her. There wasn't much I could deduce right away.
Click.
“Phew… we’re here.”
“Good job. Are you feeling all right?”
“Yeah… I’m fine.”
Our destination turned out to be an upscale traditional Hanok restaurant with an antique, refined atmosphere. One look was enough to tell it was pricey. Any thought of paying for the meal to return her favor evaporated on the spot.
“Welcome.”
“Reservation under Jo Ihyeon.”
“Right this way, please.”
She had spoken as if we were just dropping in, but she had already booked a table in advance. Following a male waiter near the entrance, we were ushered into a private room. After placing the order, Ihyeon looked across at me, her expression unusually somber. It seemed the lingering tension from the drive hadn't completely dissipated.
“Have you been well?”
“Yes. What about you, Ihyeon?”
“I’ve been fine too.”
Our first encounter had been extraordinarily intense, but this was only the second time we had ever met. I wondered what kind of conversation I should initiate.
“To be honest, after more than a week went by without a word, I didn't think you'd reach out.”
“Ah, some things came up, so I was a bit busy.”
“Right… um. Ahem.”
Maintaining a stiff, guarded expression, Ihyeon picked up her water glass. Something felt off.
“Um… this might be rude of me to ask, but could I ask you something?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
Ihyeon began speaking with extreme care. It turned out there was an entirely different reason for the dark look on her face.