ATTEW – Chapter 21

At the temporary protection facility he had finally found, Jae-eon saw a woman who made him forget his situation for a moment, drawing his gaze irresistibly. The woman wrapping her arm around Gyueon’s shoulders—clinging in fear to her oppa who was leaving—and speaking to her was…

Beautiful.

“Hi? I’m Lee Eunho. What’s our friend’s name?”

“Hic, I’m… Seo Gyueon…”

“Wow, that’s such a pretty name. Your name’s pretty, your face is pretty… Gyueon, you’re pretty all over.”

He remembered the name after hearing it just once. Lee Eunho. Their eyes met briefly at first, then twice, three times—his gaze kept drifting back to her.

The woman seemed like she had just become an adult. She looked far too young for someone working at a child care center, but she was skilled at soothing children.

“Thank you. For comforting our Gyueon.”

“No, it’s part of my job.”

The woman’s smile, as if it were just what she did, was faint. Jae-eon pushed away the curiosity rising about her. He didn’t have the luxury. Flirting with a woman in his situation would make him a worthless scumbag.

“It’s time to say bye to oppa and go inside, okay? Look—your friends are waiting because they want to play with you.”

“Oppa… then… pinky promise you’ll come.”

“Okay, got it.”

So Jae-eon finally tore his eyes off her, bent down, and crouched. He hooked his finger around Gyueon’s tiny pinky and made the promise the way he always did.

He didn’t forget to press their thumbs together like a seal, either.

“If you break a promise, you’re a bad person.”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

“And you have to buy me a present when you come. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“If I sleep here one night, you’re coming?”

“Yeah. Just tonight. If you sleep here tonight and play tomorrow, oppa will come in the afternoon.”

“Before dinner?”

“I’ll try my best. Even if I’m late, I’ll come. So wait for me, okay?”

“Yeah!”

He nodded and patted her little head, because he knew she’d be thrilled with something as small as a bag of gummy candy.

“Promise. Promise. Promise.”

And then Gyueon turned around.

She fluttered off—light as a butterfly—running into the building, and the sight of her back made Jae-eon’s throat tighten.

Why did it suddenly feel like… this might be the last time he ever saw her looking this pretty?

He wanted to grab himself by the collar and shake that thought out of his skull. It was disgusting—superstitious, overblown, a nasty imagination born out of panic.

‘It’s just anxiety. That’s all. A stupid, pessimistic hallucination.’

Without realizing it, he looked at the small woman standing in front of him.

He wanted her to say something that would let him breathe again.

Even though she looked younger than him—somehow, if he heard her, it felt like he’d be able to calm down.

“Don’t worry. She’ll be okay.”

And she did.

Like she’d heard his wish, she soothed him—said exactly what he needed, her light brown eyes bright with quiet certainty.

“Tonight, I’ll sleep with her. So please come tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes. I really will. I already told the director too… Please take good care of Gyueon.”

Jae-eon was about to turn away after asking her when he remembered something and slipped his hand into his jacket pocket.

“And this…”

A bag of green-grape candy.

He’d bought it earlier to calm Gyueon down while heading to his father’s place. She’d been raised like a little princess—used to having what she wanted. If she acted up, if she threw tantrums, the staff might have a hard time.

He thought maybe leaving this would make it easier—reduce the childish whining while he was gone.

“Gyueon likes sweet things. If she cries or causes trouble…”

“I’m sorry, but snacks have to be shared with all the kids.”

“Ah…”

“The center has candy too. They’re allowed one a day…”

Jae-eon was about to pull his hand back with the candy still in it.

But Lee Eunho took the bag from him.

That was all she did—just that—and it made his eyes sting, like something might spill over.

Don’t blame me for my stupid little attempt. Thank you for hearing me out.

He wanted to pour everything out, right then, to a woman he didn’t know.

My mom died. She’s still in the morgue. My sister could become an orphan any minute. I have to report for enlistment on Monday morning.

He wanted to say it all—he didn’t know why.

While he was thinking those useless thoughts, Eunho tore the bag open and took out exactly two candies.

“I’ll secretly give Gyueon one extra tonight, and one extra tomorrow.”

“……Thank you.”

There wasn’t anything left to say.

But it was hard to leave.

He didn’t know whether it was because of the anxiety of walking away from his sister or because of something else entirely.

And because he couldn’t step away, it seemed like she couldn’t go back inside either.

In the end, when he finally tried to turn—

“Hey. In this weather, it’ll take you at least an hour to walk to the bus terminal.”

Eunho unwound the black scarf from around her neck and offered it to him.

“At least keep your neck warm.”

“Ah…”

“It’s not anything fancy, but it’s better than nothing.”

“……Thank you.”

He didn’t refuse.

Not when warmth like that was being offered.

But what surged up hot in his throat was tears—so he bowed his head quickly, hiding it as he thanked her.

“Then, Gyueon’s oppa—be careful.”

He said goodbye and turned.

And immediately, her light brown hair—long enough to brush her shoulders—swam across his vision.

So he looked back without meaning to.

“……”

She was still standing there.

In the exact spot where she’d been talking to him—watching him.

He needed to hurry. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t make it in time for the express bus to Mugyeong, where his maternal relatives lived.

So he forced his legs to move.

And yet his head turned again.

“……”

She was still there.

Like she was seeing him off.

Like she was sending him away with a silent hope: ‘Solve this. Come back tomorrow. Keep your promise.’

It was snowing hard enough that the world blurred, but she stayed oddly clear—small, steady, sharp-edged in the storm.

It made his vision feel strange.

For an instant, the snow looked like it was rushing upward into the sky.

He knew that wasn’t possible. He told himself it was just a trick of the wind.

But it wasn’t.

The snow fell everywhere as before—only around her, the flakes seemed to lift and whirl, like they were dancing, rising and settling over and over again.

It had to be his imagination.

A bizarre sensation he’d never felt before made his heart hammer like it had gone insane.

My mom died yesterday. She’s still lying in the morgue. My sister might become an orphan. This is not the time.

“……I’m fucking crazy.”

A laugh—ugly and misplaced—slipped out.

He rubbed a hand down his face and widened his stride, trying to outrun his own absurdity.

And then his whole body turned again.

“……”

She was still there.

Like she was worried about him.

Or at least… like she was rooting for him.

“……Lee Eunho.”

He mouthed her name out loud, just once.

Then, finally, he faced forward and didn’t look back again.

But his shoulders were straighter than before—like he’d been braced from behind.

***

Arriving in Mugyeong Saturday night, Jae-eon scoured every maternal relative he could. Those who had welcomed him at first showed difficulty upon hearing his situation. The difference from his paternal side was that the paternal relatives cursed his mother, while the maternal ones were all shocked.

Most had believed his mother was living well after marrying into a rich family. Grabbing them and explaining his circumstances one by one felt like showing his underwear—humiliating and degrading.

But Jae-eon endured for Gyueon’s sake. He contacted high school friends of his mother, acquaintances, anyone with even a slight connection, bowing his head—but it was all in vain.

Finally, by Sunday evening, he dragged his exhausted body back to Seoul. This time, he was determined to meet his father face-to-face and beg. However…

The firmly shut gate didn’t open. Kneeling in front of the gate, thinking his father was watching from a window, but the heartless man left him in the pouring snow for hours. It was the ultimate declaration of estrangement.

Curses rose unbidden. I knew it would be like this. I was a fool for hoping even a little. If it’s going to be like this, he might as well give up parental rights over Gyueon and me.

At least he could be glad he had kept his promise to Gyueon. Go get her on time, and eat a warm meal together. Before the funeral, grieve freely in front of their mother’s portrait.

“Ha…”

Lost in long ruminations and self-loathing, the <Warm Hands Child Care Center> sign finally came into view. It was nearly 4 a.m.—he will soon meet Gyueon, who must be waiting for him. But for some reason, the distant center building looked unusually cold.