Chapter 6 Part 2

Gihyun read the passage without much thought:

“I always imagined a vast rye field with kids playing joyfully. There are only thousands of children running around, with no adults except for me. And I’m standing at the edge of a steep cliff.

I must quickly grab any child who seems about to fall off the cliff, since kids run around without thinking. I’d be the one who appears and makes sure the kids don’t fall. That’s all I would do all day. To put it simply, I want to be the catcher in the rye.”

Gihyun’s imagination then shifted to Minjoo standing at the cliff’s edge.

He knew it sounded like a foolish dream. But deep down, that’s really what he wanted to be.

Gihyun smirked slightly. It felt oddly like something Minjoo would say.

“Is your dream to be a preschool teacher?”

“Yeah. Can you tell I’m into early childhood education?”

Despite Gihyun’s sarcastic tone, Minjoo didn’t take offense. She continued to try to comfort him earnestly.

“If you’re having a hard time, just let me know.”

“…”

“I may not be much help, but I can at least listen.”

Gihyun didn’t respond. He drank more and then looked at Minjoo’s eyes. He had thought them plain, but upon closer inspection, her features were delicately arranged, and her smiling eyes were quite charming.

Reframing his view of Minjoo in a positive light made him feel oddly different. He decided to change his perspective, thinking that she wasn’t so embarrassing to be around after all.

***

The next day, Gihyun, still nursing a hangover, headed to the library. He checked out a book—the one Minjoo had been reading the previous day. He flipped through it, trying to recall the emotions he had felt.

What would he have been doing if he hadn’t run into Minjoo? Would he have sought out a high building to jump from, like his mother? Or perhaps searched for a knife to kill his father?

Had Minjoo been the one to hold him back from falling over the edge?

He spotted Minjoo approaching from afar. As she ran up to him with a lighthearted manner, his heart fluttered.

Minjoo immediately asked about his condition.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You seemed to have drunk quite a bit yesterday. I’m feeling a bit off myself.”

“Really?”

“I brought this just in case. If you’re not feeling better, you should take it.”

Minjoo handed him a hangover remedy. Gihyun closed the book and accepted the drink. As he opened it and took a sip, he felt a refreshing sensation. While drinking, he kept his eyes on Minjoo.

***

At some point, Minjoo had shifted from being someone Gihyun only reached out to when needed, to someone he could rely on without feeling embarrassed. However, Minjoo wasn’t just a soft touch for Gihyun; she was a pushover for everyone.

“Please have a seat here.”

“Thank you.”

Minjoo would always offer her seat to anyone carrying a child. When Minjoo stood up, Gihyun felt obligated to follow suit, despite his irritation at being jostled on the bus. Meanwhile, Minjoo stood next to the baby, charmingly playing with the child.

Gihyun didn’t like children. Seeing them act spoiled reminded him of his own past, wandering the market in search of his mother. Even though he had cried and pleaded, all he received was a mother lost in her own world of alcohol.

As they neared their destination, the mother and child got off the bus. Gihyun resumed his seat next to Minjoo and grumbled.

“What’s so great about a baby that can’t even understand words?”

He expressed his own sense of deficiency and inferiority as dislike for children. Minjoo, however, didn’t seem to notice his discontent and cheerfully responded.

“When they have chubby little arms and their wrists fold like this, it’s just so adorable.”

“Really?”

“I just want to feed them and take care of them.”

It seemed like Minjoo’s major in early childhood education was a perfect fit for her. While Gihyun internally mocked the sentiment, he looked into Minjoo’s eyes, where a light sparkled between her slightly squinted lids. He still couldn’t understand the attachment and care she had for things. Did his own parents ever feel that way?

He had only unpleasant memories: a father who didn’t even acknowledge his existence and a mother who chose alcohol and death over her child. Feeling melancholic, Gihyun turned to Minjoo.

“What are you doing after class today?”

“I’m going to work part-time.”

Minjoo was quite busy, taking various tutoring jobs here and there. He knew she worked hard to cover her living expenses and allowance due to her family’s financial struggles.

“…but it’s not a tutoring day.”

“Oh, not tutoring. I have to help out at a convenience store where my friend works.”

“It’s not urgent. Skip it.”

“But I already said I’d help.”

“Stay with me.”

Minjoo’s eyes widened in surprise. Gihyun spoke nonchalantly.

“Don’t you want to go on a date?”

It was just a bit of mischief on his part.

After Minjoo reluctantly accepted his invitation and canceled her part-time job, Gihyun took her to a pancake restaurant near the school. It was a place with large portions at low prices, and he intended to have her treat him.

Gihyun ordered makgeolli, but it only filled him up without satisfying his cravings. He switched to soju midway, subtly pushing it toward Minjoo. Eventually, Minjoo’s eyes became slightly unfocused, and she began humming an old song.

“It’s just the follies of youth, but…”

It was an old-fashioned song choice. Gihyun raised his soju glass.

“Your taste in music is pretty unique.”

“My mom likes it.”

That constant mention of “mom” started to spoil the mood. Normally, Minjoo would have been more sensitive to Gihyun’s reactions, but she seemed oblivious to his discontent as she continued to laugh faintly.

“To her, I guess I’m still a child. She finds it funny when I sing to entertain her.”

“Really?”

“…Actually, she’s not my biological mom.”

The sudden revelation caught Gihyun off guard. He put down his glass and focused intently on Minjoo.

“My biological mom passed away when I was a baby. I don’t remember her. My grandmother raised me.”

“…”

“When I was walking around, my dad brought my mom into our lives. I hugged her suddenly, and my dad decided to marry her because he found it so lovely. She couldn’t have her own children, so… she wanted to take care of me, to be like a real mother. She promised she’d be healthy and live a long time…”

Minjoo’s revelations about her family seemed incongruous to Gihyun, who was already struggling with his own painful memories. The more she spoke about her adoptive mother and her compassion, the more Gihyun felt a pang of jealousy and discomfort. 

Minjoo continued, trying to explain her thoughts.

“It’s just that… hearing those stories made me realize how important love and care are. It’s not just about having someone around; it’s about the quality of the relationship, the love that’s shared.”

Gihyun’s grip on his soju glass tightened. He struggled to suppress the rising tide of emotions as he tried to process Minjoo’s words. The more she talked about her experiences and emotions, the more he felt the weight of his own unresolved grief.

He chugged the soju, trying to drown out the conflicting feelings. A part of him wanted to reject Minjoo’s idealized view of family and love, while another part was envious of the affection and care she seemed to receive.

When Minjoo noticed Gihyun’s distress and his reaction to the story, she looked concerned.

“I’m sorry if my stories are upsetting you. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Gihyun managed a strained smile, trying to mask his inner turmoil.

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… it’s hard to listen to these things when…”

He trailed off, not finding the right words. Minjoo, sensing his struggle, didn’t push further. Instead, she quietly offered him another drink, hoping it might ease his discomfort.

Noticing the change in Gihyun’s demeanor, Minjoo seemed to sense something was off. Gihyun continued to stare at her. Minjoo was such a strange woman. It was as if she knew or didn’t know about Gihyun’s inner poverty.

He had thought that as he grew older, he wouldn’t be swayed by anything. Yet, one word could make him waver, and the carefully built wall of his emotions crumbled.

“If there’s no love at the crucial moment, it seems like it stays with you for a lifetime.”

Gihyun drank more and poured soju into Minjoo’s glass as well.

At some point, Minjoo lost consciousness and fell asleep. Gihyun, suffering from a headache, took her outside as the staff told him they had to close. Despite his efforts, Minjoo remained unconscious. Gihyun carried her, finding her light, possibly due to her thin frame.

Upon arriving at Minjoo’s apartment, he entered by pressing the keypad and turned on the lights. He laid Minjoo on her cheap mattress. The woman who had philosophized about love was still soundly asleep. Gihyun found himself staring at her.

Minjoo lay there defenseless. Her loose t-shirt had ridden up, exposing her flat stomach, and her legs in jeans were splayed out haphazardly.

Suddenly, Gihyun felt a surge of heat. Blood rushed to his groin. He went to the fridge and drank some water to cool down. Drinking the cold water seemed to ease his headache a little.

He looked at Minjoo with a clear mind, but the blood in his groin didn’t subside. Standing with his arousal still present, he approached the source of his inexplicable heat.

He sat down on the floor beside the mattress and stared intensely at the sleeping Minjoo.

“And realizing that, he cries like a child.”

“Even becoming a grandfather, he misses it…”