Winter Season Chapter 24

Eunho, who glanced up at Yihyeon, frowned and began moving his fingers busily again. Yihyeon looked away from Eunho and turned his head back toward the window. As he leaned his back deep into the chair, the winter sky seemed to have grown a floor higher.

It was ridiculous that he couldn’t resolutely push away a moment like this, despite having lived with the mindset that he had no such thing as family. He even felt a sense of loathing toward himself for thinking about where he could obtain the money before he had even given his mother an answer.

Why couldn’t he push them away with certainty? Family… what the hell was that anyway.

The clear winter sky felt heartless today of all days. Yihyeon brought his finger to the transparent glass window that was without a single smudge.

A faint, hazy blur spread from his fingertip. Like white mold blooming.

༘⋆🤍˚ .❄️₊˚ෆ

Is it going to rain. The sky visible through the window was overcast.

Because the joints where his fingers met his palm were throbbing, Yihyeon repeatedly clenched his left hand into a fist and then opened it.

“Yihyeon, I feel so sorry about this, what should I do… Our sales have dropped a lot since the beginning of this year, so I think a pay advance might be a bit difficult…”

In front of the counter, which had a large, faded sticker reading ‘Mujin Blood Sausage Soup’ attached to it, the owner dropped the ends of her eyebrows apologetically.

Since he had expected it to be difficult, there was no great sense of disappointment. When Yihyeon bit his lip and nodded, she was the one who looked even more apologetic.

“I’ll try to see if I can pull this month’s salary forward a bit. It weighs on my heart because it’s coming from a kid who has never said something like that before. Is something going on?”

At the owner’s question, Yihyeon shook his head with a faint smile. He was almost finished with his preparations to leave, having fastened his coat buttons to the top and wrapped his scarf tight.

“No, Ma’am. I just asked just in case. Please don’t worry too much. It’s okay.”

“Right, oh my… If our sales were even just what they were the year before last, it wouldn’t be a problem. As you know, the shop’s situation isn’t great lately… Tell me if there’s any other help you need besides that. Oh, did you finish all the side dishes you took last time? Shall I pack some of the new ones I made today?”

Stopping the owner who was getting up to rush to the kitchen, Yihyeon stepped out of the shop. A jingle sounded, and no sooner had the door closed behind his back than the cold wind dug into his collar.

He walked away quickly in case the owner might catch him from behind, but he had no place in particular to go.

Walking aimlessly after losing his destination, Yihyeon sat down on a nearby bench. His body shivered briefly at the chill that dug in a beat late. Yihyeon took out his phone and brought up his mother’s contact info on the screen.

Let’s tell her that I’m sorry, but I don’t have that kind of money, and that I won’t be of any help.

He had made up his mind while leaving the shop, but his finger simply would not move to the call button. While he was staring blankly at his phone, something landed with a thud on the bridge of his nose. Lifting his head, he saw snowflakes fluttering down slowly.

Yihyeon, who lightly wiped away the moisture on his nose with his fingertip, opened his hand and carefully reached out into the empty air. The lovely snowflakes seemed to avoid his hand at first, but soon one fell with a plop right in the middle of his palm.

The thick, clumped snow grain melted into transparency as soon as it landed on his skin. He watched quietly as the particle, which had been as white as lamb’s wool, vanished without a trace in an instant. Then, he suddenly discovered a long scar located where his pinky finger and palm met.

It had been throbbing since morning; I guess it was a sign that it was going to snow.

Yihyeon traced the slightly raised scar, which was now completely healed and felt nothing, with his fingertip. The melted snow crystal spread transparently, coating the scarred area widely.

It was a wound from when he was working two or three part-time jobs to save up tuition after failing to return to school immediately after his military discharge. An accident had occurred back then where his hand was cut quite deeply while trying to break up a fight at the bar where he worked.

They said the glass fragment had touched a nerve and he needed surgery urgently, but at the time, he didn’t have that kind of money on him. While the fellow part-timer who had come with him was merely sobbing, not knowing what to do, he contemplated what to do in a hazy state of mind.

Yihyeon thought about it dozens of times then. Whether it was right to suddenly call acquaintances—who didn’t even know he had been discharged because he had left quietly—and ask to borrow money. Or if he should call the street moneylenders who claimed to provide 24-hour loans.

His older sister, the only one he kept in contact with, was abroad for an important schedule at the time, and Eunho was in the middle of his military service. There was only one option left.

Sitting on a chair in a corner of the emergency room, clutching his arm which was dripping with blood, he called his father just as his consciousness was becoming faint. It was exactly three years after he had left home.

While the dial tone repeated, his mouth didn’t just feel dry; it felt parched to the point of burning. Sour liquid rose from the back of his throat and his breath felt stifled. The image of his father shouting that he couldn’t let a devil’s child into the house repeated in his head. He had felt miserable and anxious, thinking he might hear something similar again.

On the floor he was looking down at while listening only to the ringtone, blood droplets that had run down his fingers were pooling. Just as he was worrying whether the dark red stains would remain on the white tiles, the call connected.

Even if he was a child disowned by the house, he expected that his father would be shaken upon hearing that his son was in the emergency room.

It wasn’t that he was asking him to pay the surgery fee for him; he thought that a request to borrow money until the urgent situation was resolved was something even acquaintances, let alone blood relatives, could sufficiently grant.

However, what returned was only silence. Holding the phone which had no answer, he hesitantly laid out what had happened at the bar and his current location and situation, but it was of no use.

The temperature of the warm stream of blood crawling down the back of his hand was vivid. Even the sight of himself stammering that if he helped just this once, he would never contact him again. After the call was cut off, he had sat blankly for a long time just like now.

They are the ones who cruelly pushed him away when he actually needed help. Now, Yihyeon could not come up with a reason why he should lend them money.

It even felt unfair. If they had even a shred of shame, shouldn’t they have avoided contacting him like that?

Although it was under the premise that it would be returned in six months, if it went that way, returning to school immediately would become impossible. To grant his mother’s request, he would not only have to cancel his savings account but also borrow money from someone. No matter how many times he thought about it, it was not a wise course of action.

Nevertheless, instead of calling his mother, Yihyeon turned on a map app and searched for nearby banks. After opening his wallet to check if his ID was there, he stood up from his seat.

“…”

There was only one reason. To prove it to them.

That he grew up well on his own without his parents. That he was at least at a level where he could be of help to them at a time like this. So, the fact that a man likes a man… might not be as terrible a thing as they think.

Someone might ask if he was giving up on returning to school for just that reason, but for Yihyeon, it was a more important issue than returning to school right away.

Going to his graduation ceremony alone, and putting all his effort into entering university. The reason he had worked after serving in the military was because he had to prove his existence even if he had to do it that way. Since the people closest to him had denied it, he had to do it himself.

In addition to that, Yihyeon wanted to make his father regret his actions. He wanted him to feel a sense of shame and remorse at the fact that he was prolonging his life with the money of the son he had loathed so much. If, in that process, he showed any sign of reflecting on his actions—if he said he was sorry—Yihyeon was willing to ignore the past and try to restore the relationship.

Yihyeon closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. He felt as if the bitingly cold air had wiped the inside of his chest and passed through. While he caught his breath, his heart rate, which had sped up a little, regained its proper pace.

Let’s get the money somehow. It was the moment his short deliberation ended. It felt as if he could hear the sound of snowflakes landing softly, pitter-patter, on his hair and shoulders.

Yihyeon got up from the bench and headed straight to a nearby bank. However, what returned to his question of whether a loan was possible was the bank clerk’s awkward smile.