WW | Chapter 11

‘Must be hot.’

She felt a slight pity for him as she looked at his squinting eyes. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but find him ridiculous for staying asleep despite it all. Watching his flawless, fair skin turning slightly red felt a bit of a shame too.

He’s really handsome, though.

There was an odd arrogance about him that made people feel ignored, yet she couldn’t deny his looks. It was as if even his sleeping face was intricately painted like a delicate work of art. She was also intrigued by the pure innocence he showed while asleep—something only visible at moments like these.

“Haa.”

Just then, with a sigh mixed with irritation, Yoonjo scooted a bit closer to her. Yul flinched, frozen, instinctively inching away from him. His head, avoiding the light, hung close to her shoulder, almost touching it. The fresh scent of his shampoo lingered around her, making her wonder which product it was. Somehow, it suited him perfectly.

“Hah, damn….”

Still asleep, Yoonjo mumbled with his eyes closed, lifting a hand to shield his cheek from the sun. Even in his sleep, he seemed bothered enough by the sunlight to react like this, suggesting the sun was indeed tormenting him. She thought he might finally wake up, but his hand simply slid down, falling onto his knee.

Incredible. Could he really be that desperate for sleep?

In any case, that was his problem. Not something she needed to understand or care about. Yul forced herself to look away from Yoonjo’s face.

“Haa.”

Yet, another sigh escaped her lips. She could’ve ignored it, but being so close to him kept drawing her attention. After a bit of deliberation, Yul quietly unzipped her bag and pulled out a notebook. She reached out hesitantly and placed it over Yoonjo’s head, casting a shadow over his face, albeit clumsily.

As time passed, his flushed face gradually relaxed. His head, once tilted toward her, slowly straightened back to center.

What am I doing?

Yul felt a little foolish about her actions but continued to hold up the shade over Yoonjo’s head whenever sunlight spilled in, all the way through ten bus stops.

Before she knew it, her stop was approaching. Not wanting to wake him by pressing the bell, she rose from her seat carefully. Sunlight fell on his face again, which bothered her, but she turned away.

He can handle it if it’s too much.

You treated me coldly, but I showed you kindness.

A strange sense of satisfaction and triumph filled Yul’s heart. She walked toward the door and pressed the bell. Glancing back, she saw that Yoonjo was still fast asleep, his head leaning toward where she’d been sitting.

‘If he misses his stop like this….’

Well, he can just get back on, I guess.

As the bus stopped and the door opened, Yul completely dismissed him from her mind and stepped off. The bus doors closed with a hiss behind her. Yoonjo slowly opened his eyes, turning his head in the opposite direction. Through the window, he saw the transfer student walking away, one hand on her lower abdomen, her posture slightly hunched, as if she weren’t feeling well.

Watching her passively, he leaned his head back against the window, closing his eyes. The harsh sunlight lashed at his face again. For the first time since that day long ago, he missed the shadow he’d had moments ago.

After downing one more painkiller at the convenience store, her stomach began to ache, and she even tasted bile. Seeing Yul’s pale face, the manager felt sorry for her and suggested she leave early, but she gritted her teeth and held out until closing. Wasting time was wasting money. Her pay was minuscule as it was, and she couldn’t afford to let it go like that.

“Ah, you’re one tough kid. Here, take this and get a taxi home.”

Clicking his tongue, the manager handed her a 10,000-won bill. Yul hesitated briefly after leaving the store, but in the end, she slipped the bill into her wallet and just started walking. Her home was only a 20-minute walk, and arriving a little earlier or later wouldn’t make a difference. Spending the money like that seemed wasteful, anyway.

The neighborhood where Yul lived with her grandmother was filled with old houses and small apartment buildings for low-income residents. The streetlights were sparse, so she walked down the dark streets, her senses heightened like a hedgehog. Ignoring a drunk urinating on a wall, she turned down an even narrower alley, arriving at a red-brick villa over 35 years old. The buildings were so close together that even on a sunny day, sunlight never reached the inner courtyard. This was their home.

“I don’t usually rent at this price, but since it’s Pastor Choi’s request, I’ll make an exception.”

The landlady, who’d reduced the rent by 100,000 won, acted as though she’d reserved her place in heaven. She told them not to expect any wallpaper or flooring repairs either. The water stains on the ceiling and the black mold by the windows were things they’d have to deal with themselves.

Standing here, Yul felt an urge to demolish this place every time. She imagined replacing it with a building designed by her favorite architect. Using red brick as the base, like this villa, but unlike here, showcasing a warm, inviting texture on the surface. Ivy draped across the building, adding a graceful, solemn atmosphere to the classic structure. She’d envision transforming it into a vintage and stylish building, only to snap back to reality with a sense of disappointment.

Descending the burrow-like basement stairs, she opened the iron door covered in stickers.

“Grandma, I’m home.”

As soon as she stepped inside, the tiny living room that doubled as the kitchen spread out before her. The aroma of sesame oil and seasonings hinted that her grandmother had been cooking recently. Kicking off her sneakers, Yul entered to find her grandmother, Kyeong Ja, curled up like a shrimp, fast asleep in the small room connected to the living room.

After working all day, she must have prepared things for tomorrow, done the laundry, cleaned, and cooked. That’s why she was snoring away, unaware that Yul had returned.

Seeing her like that made Yul feel the weight of their circumstances.

I had a hard day too, Grandma.

Yul put down her bag and nestled into Kyeong Ja’s embrace. Her grandmother woke up with a gentle hug, her voice full of affection.

“Oh, my baby’s home?”

“Yeah.”

Feeling a sudden surge of emotion, Yul replied, burying her face in Kyeong Ja’s chest. Her grandmother’s embrace felt like another dimension, warm and comforting, unlike the prickly world outside. Here, she didn’t need to watch her words, be cautious, or mind her every move.

The one person who stayed when everyone else left. The one who called Yul her “everything,” her one true ally.

Yul found solace in Kyeong Ja’s warmth, closing her eyes tightly.

“You’ve been working hard, haven’t you, my sweetie? Have you eaten?”

“I have. It’s late, you know.”

“Was it that cheap rice ball again with no nutrition? Just wait. I steamed pumpkin leaves with soybean paste; let me wrap one up for you.”

“Oh, come on, no. If I eat now, I won’t digest it.”

Yul hugged her grandmother tightly, stopping her from getting up. For now, she just wanted to soak in this warmth without thinking.

At that, Kyeong Ja seemed to notice something different about Yul.

“Did something happen at school today?”

“No. It was fine.”

Yul answered nonchalantly, acting cute. She wanted to complain about how the day was a total mess and how she felt like her body was breaking apart, but she couldn’t upset her grandmother. She’d probably been worrying about her all day.

“Really? Are the kids being good to you?”

“Yeah, they’ve all been nice.”

“Oh, thank goodness. That’s such a relief.”

Her grandmother patted Yul’s back with a sigh of relief. Seeing her grandmother so happy made Yul feel as though a heavy weight was pressing on her chest. They both knew this was her last school, adding to the pressure to endure.

“Grandma, should I just quit school now and take the GED?”

“Don’t talk nonsense. Do you know how much Pastor Choi went out of his way for you? You’re graduating high school and going to college, no matter what.”

Her grandmother was surprisingly firm on this issue. While she usually gave in to Yul, she would get upset and turn her back whenever Yul mentioned dropping out. Only after Yul raised the white flag would her grandmother get up, wiping away tears.

Yul’s father had never gone to college, and Kyeong Ja had regretted it ever since. She still remembered how her son’s words—“Why is our family so poor?”—had left a scar that wouldn’t heal.

Her father, Yul’s father, often drank and blamed her for his life, claiming that if he’d gone to college, he would’ve been a proper architect instead of just a subcontractor. So for Kyeong Ja, school was everything. She’d even pleaded with Pastor Choi for help whenever Yul insisted on getting her GED instead.

“Fine, I get it.”

And so, Yul couldn’t quit school. Or maybe, deep down, she was choosing not to. She knew it was probably more practical for her to graduate high school and go to college straight away. Given their situation, taking the GED and then studying for the college entrance exam without the luxury of private tutoring was a roundabout path. So, even though she felt guilty for not earning more money, part of her kept enduring the daily grind.

“My sweetie.”

Her grandmother, sensing her thoughts, gently patted Yul’s back as if to soothe her.