CHAPTER 70

Taejun had been dispatched to Afghanistan after undergoing the grueling training of the special operations Green Berets unit, so he had often experienced extreme situations where adrenaline spiked to its limits.

In such situations, there were sometimes “adrenaline junkies” who enjoyed the superhuman physical abilities resulting from the surge of the two hormones, like a drug. But after repeated exposure to extreme conditions, they eventually became numb and let their guard down. And that’s when accidents always happen.

People who hadn’t directly experienced that might be able to enjoy the slight adrenaline rush in a controlled situation, like Minhee beside him, enthusiastically tearing into the cotton candy shaped like a bear’s head.

Her eyes were slightly dilated in excitement, her pure white cheeks flushed a peachy pink. Looking at her face, she didn’t seem much different from when they were rolling around in bed.

It was quite beautiful to behold.

‘If she finds it that fun, I should let her ride to her heart’s content.’

However, queuing up was another story altogether. He was used to mapping out his steps in his head, so he had little experience of using time inefficiently in this way.

‘Surely, there must be other ways to pass the time than waiting like this.’

He admitted to himself with a wry smile that he lacked patience when it came to time. Besides Taejun, there were undoubtedly others who considered ‘time’ the most precious and valuable commodity for humans. And they wouldn’t hesitate to pay a premium to buy time.

As he glanced around, he soon spotted something – a long, winding line of people. And a straight line with almost no one in it.

“Stay here, don’t go anywhere.”

“Huh? Where are we going? The bathroom?”

“You said you wanted to ride that. I’ll let you ride as much as you want until you’re sick of it, so just wait here.”

“…?”

Exactly ten minutes later, Taejun returned with paper bracelets in hand.

“What’s this?”

Without answering, he wrapped the bracelet around Minhee’s wrist and then around his own.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Taejun bypassed the long line and went to the line with no one in it. The staff checked the bracelets and let Minhee and Taejun in first.

Minhee followed Taejun with a bewildered expression, but when she realized she could sit in the very back row, somewhere she had never sat before, she grabbed Taejun’s arm and shook it excitedly like a child.

That day, Minhee rode the amusement rides endlessly until her legs felt like jelly and returned to the hotel much earlier than expected.

As Minhee showered, Taejun ordered room service for dinner and sat comfortably on the sofa, with a self-satisfied smile.

By the time the red sun had half-set over Namsan that evening, Minhee was already lying on the bed, half-delirious with pleasure. When she had fallen into a deep sleep, the moonlight was muffled by clouds, silencing even the nightscape of Seoul.

* * *

“The train’s departing, chugga chugga choo choo!”

Facing Rose, Minhee pretended to blow a whistle with her hand, and Rose raised her hand, mimicking her.

“Choo choo choo!”

The high-speed train to Busan smoothly departed from Suseo Station.

“Miss Minnie, what’s ‘chugga chugga choo choo’?”

“Chugga chugga choo choo? That’s the sound a train makes in Korean.”

“No, no. Trains don’t make that sound. They go ‘Tchu!’ ‘Tchu!'”

“…Ah, I see.”

Taejun, sitting next to Rose, covered his mouth with his fist.

“What’s the point of covering your mouth? Your dimples are still visible, you know.”

When Taejun and Minhee made eye contact, Minhee stuck out her tongue with a mischievous smile. Even preschoolers at Aster School knew that it was a silly thing to do. But seeing Taejun’s sharp eyes soften into rare gentle curves as he looked at her, his charming dimples seemed to deepen.

‘Does this man know what expression he makes when he looks at me?’

Minhee suppressed the swelling in her heart. Since coming to Korea, she had felt the urge to confess her love several times a day. The more time she spent with Taejun, the more she felt he truly loved her.

‘Unrequited love can’t be this sweet.’

Minhee stole a glance at Taejun from under her brows. His perfect profile, gazing out the window, was always handsome to her. But the taut jawline and downcast eyes suggested he was actually quite tense, lost in thought.

Minhee wanted to gently pat his hand, but she hesitated this time, unlike when they casually wandered around during sightseeing. It was somewhat sad that they couldn’t engage in such intimate gestures in front of Rose.

In truth, Taejun had planned to take a plane to Busan. However, he changed his mind after hearing Minhee’s story about the high-speed railway. Considering the time it takes to get to the airport from the hotel and go through procedures, the high-speed train would be faster.

‘I really wanted to try sitting across from each other on the train!’

How could he refuse that? Taejun had booked four seats so that no one would be sitting across from them, considering his long legs.

As Taejun watched the swiftly passing scenery outside, memories of holding his mother’s hand and going to Busan resurfaced from a long time ago. He was six years old by Korean age, not yet old enough to go to school.

That day, his mother had only taken him to Busan. It was around the time when Taejun, known as a “prodigy,” started appearing on TV occasionally. They had also taken the train then, and his mother had bought snacks and eggs from the food cart in the aisle.

His mother peeled the egg for Taejun, not eating anything herself, and, like Taejun was doing now, she stared out the window endlessly. He remembered the train taking about five hours to reach Busan.

The house they had visited was on top of a hill called Dalmaji-gol. After getting off the bus, they had walked uphill for a while, and there was a large house surrounded by high walls. To young Taejun, it looked big and nice.

However, the grand and intimidating iron door didn’t open for hours. On their way back to Seoul, Taejun’s mother met someone at the train station she called ‘brother’. Taejun’s maternal uncle, or rather, his mother’s brother, sadly put a white envelope in his mother’s handbag. As the two argued over whether to accept it, the white envelope ultimately ended up in Taejun’s hands.

‘It’s from your uncle. You should accept it gratefully when an adult gives you something.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Oh, you’re so smart. Just like your grandfather.’

As Taejun’s mother started crying again, the man with eyes similar to hers smiled at Taejun through reddened eyes.

‘Taejun, please take good care of your mother on the way back.’

His uncle handed his mother a handkerchief and lifted Taejun up onto the train platform stairs.

‘Jin-ah, you’re going to miss the train. Hurry up and get on.’

His uncle stood there, waving his hand until the train started moving.

When he found his uncle’s contact written in his father’s notebook in his brother’s handwriting, he suddenly remembered the memories of that day. The reason he decided to inform his uncle about his brother’s death was because of the memories from that day.

Taejun wanted to get to Busan as soon as possible. Whatever the outcome, he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. One thing was for sure: he didn’t want Rose to be hurt by this.

‘My brother wanted to create a family for Rose. Not to make her experience being rejected by her own family.’

So Taejun was determined to prevent anything like that from happening, no matter what.

Turning his head towards Rose, who was playing bingo with Minhee sitting beside him, Taejun noticed that Rose, whom he had met after four days, had gained more weight on her cheeks from eating well at her maternal grandparents’ house. The child had been through too much at a young age and had only just found stability. He wanted to protect her ordinary daily life no matter what happened.

Rose only knew they were going to a place called Busan by train, but she didn’t know why. He was curious and worried about how she would react if she found out there were other relatives besides her maternal grandparents.

But he was glad Minhee was with Rose. She believed Minhee could protect the child safely and keep her from getting hurt.

In truth, Taejun needed Minhee more than Rose did. If Minhee weren’t there, he wouldn’t have dared to come to Busan. The thought suddenly made him feel anxious.

‘Maybe I’m relying on Minhee too much.’

Taejun felt a moment of trepidation as he realized how much power the small, weak woman had over him.  He momentarily felt torn. It reminded him of his father. A man who, after his beloved wife died, lived with a dead heart, waiting for the day when his body would also die.

As Taejun was lost in thought, the train arrived at Busan Station. It was exactly two and a half hours later. He looked out the window of the train as it slowly pulled onto the platform, thinking that Busan Station looked a lot different than he remembered. But there was one figure that hadn’t changed.

Taejun recognized him at a glance. His mother’s eyes. Though now filled with wrinkles, the man had the exact same eyes as his mother. He wondered if he recognized him.

The uncle stood tall on the platform, endlessly gazing at the slowly stopping train, just as he had on that day from Taejun’s childhood.

“We’re here! Rose, come here. Put on your jacket.”

“Miss Minnie, where are we?”

“Busan!”

“Busan!”

Hearing Rose’s excited voice, Taejun turned away from the window. Last night, Taejun had left his uncle a quick text with his arrival time at the train station and the name of his hotel. But he never expected his uncle to come to the train station to meet them.