Dad (2)
When I first met him, I was still in middle school.
It was the darkest stretch of my life. I had no friends, and I didn't even speak to Mom, my only family. I lived every hour entirely alone.
There were days I never parted my lips, never managed a single word. At school I folded over my desk in a hush like death and slept. When I came home I shut myself in my room and stared at a screen until the hours ran out.
A season with no living breath in it. A life so still and silent it would have been fair to call me already dead.
I was too exhausted then to know that any of it was wrong. I assumed I would go on like that for the rest of my life.
Then a variable I had never imagined arrived.
One day Mom brought it up with an almost insulting calm. She was seeing someone. There was a man she loved.
It sounded like a vicious joke. If our relationship had been even a little warmer, I might have taken it as one. Unfortunately, Mom and I were not close enough to share jokes.
At first I couldn't make sense of it. The same woman who had loathed and despised men... in love? And so I grew curious. What kind of person could change her like that?
As the days passed I could feel her love deepening. She smiled more. She even began, little by little, to speak to me. The more she did, the more my curiosity grew.
Then she told me she was going to marry him.
That was the first day I met the man.
"Nice to meet you."
A hand held out toward me, and an easy smile. When the sunlight poured down behind his back, I understood.
We couldn't take our eyes off each other.
In my step-father's gaze I could read bewilderment and panic. I probably looked much the same to him.
He recovered his composure quickly and spoke.
"...Who are you? This is my son's house."
His voice carried a hard, unshakable certainty. Not that he had the wrong address — that an uninvited guest was standing in his son's home. He didn't doubt it for a second.
How was I supposed to convince him? Even facing him now, I didn't have an answer. Still, dragging it out would be worse than cutting straight to the point.
I drew a short breath and said it plainly.
After I first met him, he started dropping by the house now and then. Seeing Mom wasn't the point. The two of them always met outside, as if they didn't want to impose on me.
He came to see me.
Of course the awkwardness never quite left. I kept my distance, and he never forced his way closer. But whenever he visited, he tried, however briefly, to talk.
"Just call me Uncle, if that's easier."
After that, I called him Uncle.
Uncle gave me allowance. He bought me good food, often. It never felt like a bribe meant for Mom. What I felt instead was a genuine wish to get closer to me.
Maybe that was because he didn't just hand something over and leave. He kept trying to talk. He kept showing interest.
I realized early that he was a good man — good enough that I understood why Mom had fallen for him.
Even so, I didn't exactly welcome the marriage. Because it meant Uncle would become my dad.
More family wouldn't do me any good. That was what I thought back then.
Sitting alone in the house with Dad, the air went stiff.
The subject had been too heavy to handle standing in the entryway, so we'd come inside. Once we sat down, my lips grew heavy all over again.
In the end, Dad was the one who spoke first.
"So... you're saying you suddenly turned into a woman?"
Even in a situation this extreme, he kept his composure. At least on the surface. For all I knew he was panicking inside and simply acting well.
I kept my words to myself and answered with a nod.
"Hmm..."
At that low hum, my body flinched on its own. I knew it was unreasonable to expect him to believe me. And yet, underneath, I found a contradictory wish that he would.
"At first I thought it was a mean prank."
He organized his thoughts, then laid them out carefully.
"I wondered if you'd gotten a new girlfriend and the two of you had cooked this up together."
A girlfriend.
That was a mythical creature. Before the change or after, it was never going to happen to me.
Just how highly did Dad think of me? He had to know, objectively, that it made no sense.
...That's depressing.
"But the more I thought about it, the weirder it seemed."
...Wait.
What did that mean?
I mean, he wasn't wrong, but—
He wasn't believing me?
He thought it was weird that I would have a girlfriend?
...Even more depressing than a second ago.
"Our son isn't the type to pull a prank like this."
Ah. That was what he meant.
I'd been spiraling all by myself. At least I'd only thought it, so no one else knew.
"...So I believe our son wouldn't play a prank, or lie."
A deep warmth moved through me. Just like Sea, Dad believed me too. Right. Like Sea said. We're family.
"Which means it's one of two things. Either my son really did turn into a woman. Or the woman sitting in front of me did something to my son, and is lying about it."
"...Huh?"
Hold on. That second option was a little much.
The genre had just lurched into a horror thriller. I'd been playing a horror game earlier; a chill ran through me before I could stop it. I rubbed my arms to settle the goosebumps.
"I'll need to hear more. How you became a woman, what happened in the meantime, and some kind of proof that you really are my son."
In a blink the genre shifted again — now it was a detective mystery.
I looked at Dad's eyes and couldn't help startling. It was a look I had never seen on him before.
Because it was a second marriage, they didn't hold a proper wedding. There wouldn't have been many people to invite anyway. They just had a small party at home, with the only family each of them had — a son and a daughter.
"Oppa!"
The little kid who was now my younger sister called for me. She was still in elementary school, so "little kid" was fair, right?
Unlike me, Sea was extremely outgoing. She looked genuinely happy to have gained a mom and a big brother.
I, on the other hand, was a mess of mixed feelings. One thing I knew for sure: I didn't feel simple joy. Worry came first.
And the problem, as always, was me. Uncle, Sea, even Mom would accept the change. I wasn't sure I could.
"Oppa! Let's eat cake together!"
Sea called again. I didn't open the door.
When I didn't come out, I heard whispering from the living room. They were probably talking badly about me.
Then footsteps approaching, and a light knock.
"...Mind if I come in for a moment?"
Uncle's voice. I let out a sigh.
I knew what I was doing was stupid. I could have just gone out, pretended to enjoy myself, then come back to rest.
"...Yes. Come in."
The door opened. Uncle stepped in, saw me lying on the bed, and asked with concern.
"Not feeling well?"
"...Just a little."
"I see. Then get some rest."
Right. The easiest way. Don't face the problem. Look away. I understood his choice. It was exactly what I was doing.
But contrary to my expectation, Uncle didn't leave. He came closer instead. He sat on the edge of the bed and spoke.
"Is it hard?"
"...No. I'm fine."
"I'm not asking about your body. If I have to put it into words, I want to know about your heart."
"......"
The state of my heart. Well. Was I having a hard time? Maybe. I didn't know.
"Are Uncle and Sea making you uncomfortable?"
"And if they are?"
"Then we'd have to put the marriage on hold."
The declaration was so drastic I looked at him without meaning to. Did he mean that? Judging by his eyes, he did.
"...Why go that far? You could just ignore me."
"How could I? Marriage isn't just about two people. It's an important choice for both families. If we marry, we become parent and child."
Becoming parent and child. I knew that in my head. Accepting it in my heart was another matter.
"You know, I love Sea more than I can say, but the truth is I've always wanted a son too. Taking him to the bathhouse, scrubbing his back... that kind of old-fashioned dream."
"...That's a little cliché."
"Heh. It is. I've been carrying that dream since I was a kid, so of course it's outdated. I grew up with only my mother, no father around."
"......"
I'd never heard that before.
"Of course, people are different. Not everyone without a dad wishes for one. Especially you. You've been hurt a great deal."
"...Did Mom tell you that?"
"This may be hard for you to believe, but I mean it when I say you didn't do anything wrong. Your mother is the one who bears the greater fault. At least when it comes to you. No matter how terrible a wound someone carries, a parent who lets that wound harm their own child cannot be called a good parent."
The words hit me like a shock. The man I had thought was more on Mom's side than anyone had criticized her and stood with me.
"But I also believe mistakes can be forgiven, if you ask for it and work to make them right. Your mother couldn't do that alone. I know she's not the kind of woman who's good at that sort of thing. ...So."
He set a hand on my shoulder and patted it lightly. I still remember the smile he wore then.
Those words changed something in me.