The social atmosphere he had been immersed in for the past six months hadn't been particularly pleasant.
It was well past 4:00 p.m., but the sun was still scorching hot.
This was a day he had been waiting for, but not under these circumstances.
"Son."
"…Mom."
"Get in first."
Sweating profusely, he stood in front of the unit's main gate as a medium-sized car pulled up. Through the window, he could vaguely make out his mother's face. He couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze directly.
"…What is it?"
As he opened the back door to load his luggage, he noticed someone else sitting inside.
"…Hi."
"Why are you even here?"
"That's why I went back and forth with Mom twice—because of me."
"I see."
His sister, her hair now long enough to cover her shoulders, sat in the back seat. The shadows under her eyes, which he had never noticed before, seemed darker now. Perhaps it was because she was an examinee.
"…"
"…"
She grabbed her bag and sat in the back seat, fidgeting with her nails, her movements catching the edge of his vision.
What should he say? What shouldn't he say? These were difficult questions for someone like him, who had only ever written about social issues.
"…Mom, can I go in this military uniform?"
"Are you okay? Lend me some clothes there."
What he desperately wanted to take off was his combat uniform. The fact that he had to wear mourning clothes instead was unsettling.
"Brother."
"Yeah."
"…You did well in the army."
"…Yeah."
Was he a good person? Or just oblivious? He couldn't tell. But it was clear that his brother now seemed more mature than he was.
They drove in silence for less than an hour, and before he knew it, they were back in Seoul. The university hospital, just five minutes from his mother's childhood home, was also where the funeral home was located.
This was his first visit since his grandfather's funeral, which had happened when he was very young. He didn't remember much about that.
"Oh, have autumn and winter arrived already?"
"Autumn, light the incense first."
"Brother-in-law, we need to change the children's clothes first."
The faces of relatives he hadn't seen since New Year's Day. Everyone's expressions were not as grim as he had expected.
"Brother, change first."
"Yeah."
He changed into mourning clothes in the restroom attached to the funeral home. The clothes felt awkward, and he adjusted his tie as he stepped out.
After that, he stood in front of a portrait of his grandmother alongside his younger brother, who had also changed into a black hanbok. Incense was lit, and the atmosphere grew solemn, making even the faint rustling of clothes seem loud.
Maternal grandmother. If he looked back on his childhood, half his memories involved her. Because his mother was always busy, he had spent most of his primary school years with his grandmother's family.
Looking at her well-dressed portrait, a thought came to mind.
"…Grandma."
Seeing his sister's tear-filled, silent gaze, his mother also turned her head. They say sharing grief reduces it by half, but he thought that was only partially true. Looking at his grieving family, he still felt deeply sad.
It didn't take as long as he expected to regain his composure. Crying is exhausting, and a funeral is a three-day event. He tried to avoid looking at his grandmother's photo, even if he had to force himself. Wouldn't it be embarrassing if he couldn't carry her coffin because he was too tired from crying?
"Agaul, have you been discharged?"
As he sat in the mortuary, his cousin, a resident, started talking to him. He briefly wondered why his cousin stayed, but he figured it was fitting for the eldest son to take responsibility since there wasn't an uncle around.
"Yeah, I was originally supposed to be discharged the day after tomorrow, but they let me go two days early."
"It seems like you haven't been in for long, but you're already out?"
"Time passed faster than I thought."
When he entered the mortuary, it felt dark. In truth, he couldn't recall the past days clearly at all.
"So, are you going back to school?"
"It's more like going back after a semester. I plan to rest for six months."
"Well… that's fair."
"Actually, I was going to travel, but I thought if I wandered around now, Mom would scold me."
"True."
His cousin's laughter brought a sense of nostalgia, reminding him of his elementary school days.
"I don't think I'll study for a license. I'll have to work part-time instead."
"These days, everything's a mess. Is there even anywhere to work?"
"If not… well, I'll just tutor and earn some pocket money."
"Hey, can you even tutor after your brain's gone stiff in the army?"
"I took the college entrance exam last year."
"Really?"
"It wasn't easy."
"Well, do you think things that didn't work during active service will suddenly work now?"
"That's just how it is."
Even though they hadn't seen each other in a long time, the conversation flowed smoothly. It was amazing how family could feel so familiar, even after living apart for a year and a half.
"So, how do you feel about your visit?"
"It was terrible on average… but I learned two things."
"What?"
"First, my driving skills have improved."
Though he had only driven trucks and buses the entire time.
"And I realized something about reality."
"Which reality?"
"That there's no one in the world you can trust except family."
Everyone knows how hard it is to keep in touch. Knowing that, but not staying close to the family who calls every weekend, feels like a crime. Friends who don't keep in touch, even when there's plenty to talk about, are also a crime.
After three hours of greeting relatives and eating raw meat, he was mentally exhausted. Seeing people sobbing while paying their condolences made him cry too. This was a place of extreme emotional ups and downs.
"Mom."
"Yeah, son."
"…Is Winter not going home?"
At least it was summer vacation. In his experience, there was nothing good about the emotional turmoil of exam season. He wouldn't deny that he wanted to rest at home.
"Oops, Mom got distracted and forgot."
"Should I take her?"
"…What's going on with my son?"
Hey, you don't trust your own son? Oh, right—your son just got back from the army.
"Anyway, the funeral will be over by the day after tomorrow. He should get some sleep too."
"Okay. Do you need the car keys?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember where you parked?"
"I remember."
"The funeral service is at 1:00 tomorrow, so come back before then."
"Got it."
"Take care of your little brother. He's stressed too."
"Don't worry."
She was a good mother who cared deeply for her children. Her eyes were swollen, but who was comforting whom?
"Whose son is this?"
Sometimes, being a son and an older brother wasn't so bad.
It had been a while since he last drove a mid-sized car, and it felt a little awkward. Was it because he had been driving heavy vehicles every day? Or maybe it was because he was wearing mourning clothes instead of his military uniform.
"…Are you sleepy?"
"No."
His brother was sitting in the passenger seat with his eyes closed, so he asked. Maybe it was because the military mindset hadn't fully left him, but seeing his brother sitting there with his eyes closed made him uneasy.
"I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"…Just this and that."
…What? But it was a complicated time. Even if you were studying normally, your stomach would be in knots. It must be tough for him.
"Uh… well, everyone knows you're stressed. Go home and get some rest."
"It's not that."
"Then what is it?"
"…It's not worth talking about."
If you asked whether they had a good relationship, he'd say yes. But if you asked whether they were close, he'd hesitate. They were siblings, but not particularly close. They didn't have much to talk about, so it was sometimes awkward. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other.
"Kim Winter."
"What?"
"Do you want some coffee?"
Maybe it was because the air in the car was stuffy. Or maybe he was craving something sweet. A coffee shop came into view as they stopped at a traffic light.
"Uh… sure."
"What do you want to drink?"
"Oh, I'll buy it. What about you?"
"…In this outfit?"
He was just wearing a suit, but what would people think of a high school girl in mourning clothes going into a café?
"…Hazelnut latte. Iced."
"Wait."
He parked the car on the side of the road and entered the café.
…It would have been fine if he hadn't forgotten that he'd left his wallet in his combat uniform. He wanted to change his phone for the first time in a while.
As he sipped the syrupy Americano, a familiar parking lot came into view. After dropping his brother off and calling his mother, the air felt chilly when he opened the front door. It had only been half a year. A little warmth would have been nice.
"…I'm back."
He whispered quietly into the empty living room. Nodding to the air felt a bit odd, but seeing the corner of the house where only the air conditioner was running made him sentimental.
"…What are you doing?"
"Huh? Nothing. Just…"
"?"
The bathroom door burst open, and his brother came out, shaking his head with a towel. How had this guy with long hair finished his shower so quickly?
"Take a shower too. The hot water's on."
"Yeah. I'll wash up and sleep, so you can rest well too."
"Okay."
Leaving his brother, who went back to his room, he grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom. It was a bit hot because the room was damp. As soon as he turned on the water, lukewarm water flowed out, and he let his body relax under the shower. The scent of shampoo and body wash was pleasant.
After washing off the sweat and changing into plain clothes, he felt like he had truly been discharged. His heart was pounding suddenly. Come to think of it, he was now a civilian. He went back to his room and lay down on the bed, but he couldn't sleep. After losing nearly an hour of sleep, he went to the kitchen to get some cold water.
"…What are you doing?"
"…I thought drinking might help me sleep."
At the table, his brother was opening a can of beer. It was a bit embarrassing.
"Do you usually drink alcohol?"
"No."
"That's it."
Normally, he would have scolded him, but today he didn't feel like it. Sitting across from his brother without saying a word, he watched as his brother took a sip of the beer and grimaced.
"Give it here."
"Take it."
After taking the can, he brought a glass from the kitchen and poured the brown beer slowly. Staring at the sinking bubbles, he poured the rest of the beer and handed the glass to his brother.
"…You're not going to scold me?"
"Do I seem that careless to you?"
"Well, a little."
"That's too much."
Only the sound of his brother swallowing beer filled the living room. The air was still. He wished he could smell the alcohol. He searched the fridge just in case, but unfortunately, there was no alcohol left.
"…I'm going to the convenience store. Do you want anything to eat?"
"…Potato chips."
"Wait."
He left the house with only his wallet in hand. It felt awkward without a hat. Exhaling white breath, he entered the convenience store. He picked up some dark beer, sweet fruit beer, and a few snacks, putting them in a bag. It felt strangely unfamiliar to see the part-timer calculating the total with wide eyes.