With Taejun paying for the hospital bills, I could breathe a sigh of relief again. Now I could cover the debt payments with my savings without having to ask Mr. Do for an advance on my pay. He would probably be willing, but I had always already felt indebted to him for taking me on as an apprentice in his shop despite my lack of credentials. I didn’t like having to ask him for any more. 

As I made my way to work this morning, I felt conflicted in all different directions. Perhaps I should have asked Mr. Do for the day off so I could be at the hospital to stay with my mother as my father went into surgery. She would be a wreck of emotions today, but I didn’t have any way of contacting her to reassure her. I doubted the hospital would let me talk to her if I called them. Perhaps I should have stayed at the hospital last night, but then I wouldn’t have run into Taejun in the state he had been, and he might not have decided to pay the hospital bill after all. I hadn’t told him either about the debt payments. I’m sure he knew that a deficit was why Han Jungho had come to break Dad’s legs, but our last argument still echoed hollowly within me.

“Send them anymore than that, and I’ll freeze your account.” That was what he said. And I definitely needed to send them more. This morning, even though I usually woke up earlier than him, he was already gone. He had sent me a text an hour before telling me that he had already transferred the funds to my bank account. Without having seen him this morning, I didn’t know if he had already recovered from his emotional state of yesterday, and whether or not he would tolerate the additional withdrawal as an emergency, or if he would burst into a vindictive rage over it. 

I had always had a pretty easy to read face. Taejun often told me I needed to practice concealing my emotions, which I thought was ironic after our many arguments of late. Anyways, Mr. Doon noticed almost immediately that something heavy was on my mind.

“Jae, you’re limping around like a dog with its tail between its legs. What’s wrong?” Thankfully, the shop was not yet busy, and so instead of yelling at me for moping and being distracted, he took pity on me. 

I had always considered Mr. Do to be a second father figure to me and often talked to him about my issues and asked him for advice, but even I had trouble telling him about what had happened yesterday.  

He was just as horrified as the day I had limped into his shop after Han Jungho’s first visit. “Your father is a dog’s bastard son,” he muttered. “But not even he deserved that. Han Jungho is out of line!” 

“Yeah. Park Bonghwan-ssi even came to tell me about him.” I wondered if Mr. Do remembered Mr. Park’s last visit, or if they were still friends. They had been pretty friendly before. “I don’t know what happened to him.”

“I haven’t heard from him from a while either,” Mr. Do said. “Maybe I should give him a call and ask him to try to get that asshole to ease up.” 

I shook my head. “I doubt he could do anything.” Despite Mr. Park helping me to get a job with Mr. Do, I didn’t have too many other fond memories of him, and I had never given him a second thought after he disappeared. But it had seemed like he was in trouble with his boss. 

It was quiet again at the shop today. After the bustle around and after New Years, the initial quietness had been a relief after those crazy times. But it had dragged on for a few months now. I was there every day, but sometimes it was so quiet that Mr. Do only called in a few of us. We had quite a few part-timers in our crew. Today though, it was especially quiet with just me and Mr. Do. Without nothing really to distract me, I paced the shop like a tiger in a cage, but with none of its fierceness. Maybe a tiger cub then. 

“Quit that Jae-ya,” Mr. Do said tiredly. “You’re making me feel motion sick looking at you.” 

I apologized and went to find some busy work to do. 

The moment the workday ended, I bid Mr. Do farewell then took off like a maniac, ignoring his calls telling me not to run. Sorry Mr. Do, but I was desperate to find out how my parents were doing in the hospital. 

I had to take a bus, as it was a bit far from the shop, and I mentally hurried the driver at each of the stops he had to make. When at last we reached the stop closest to the hospital, I leaped out and hurried there. 

I knew which ward my dad was staying in now, so I didn’t need to stop at the front desk. It was the same lady as last time, and as I passed her, I ducked my head, hoping she didn’t recognize me from my half crazed rush yesterday. 

My mother must have been preoccupied with my father, because she didn’t waylay me as I entered this time. They had drawn the curtains around his bed, so I peeked in first to make sure I wasn’t interrupting anything (or even burst in on a complete stranger). I must have misjudged however, as my mother jumped a little (my dad was only able to make a little flinch) as I came in. 

Their reaction surprised me, and I nervously asked if something was wrong. My mother shook her head, forced a smile, and hugged me in greeting. 

“The surgery went well,” she said. Despite the good news she still sounded exhausted. It must have been a hard night for them. 

“But it hurts like hell,” my father groaned brusquely. “I don’t know what the hell they did in that surgery but it feels like Han Jungho breaking them again over and over.” He was pale and covered in sweat. 

I looked at the various drips and monitors hooked up to him. Having not been there when the nurses had put them in, I didn’t know what any of them were. “Did they forget the painkiller?” I asked. 

My mother pointed at one of the drips. “It’s supposed to be that one,” she said. I looked at it, but to my untrained eye it looked just like all the others, filled with indeterminate clear fluid. They could have all just been bags of water for all I knew. 

“Should I ask the doctor to increase the amount?” Now that Taejun was paying, we could probably afford to splurge on extra or better medications. 

“We tried. They won’t give us anything stronger.” My mother was wringing her hands. Despite how easily my father inflicted pain on her, clearly it hurt her a lot to see him in pain. The irony of the reversal made me feel irritated at my father, despite how much I had been worrying for him that morning. 

“I’m sorry then, Dad. Please try to endure it.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut as though he were mentally trying to force it away. Then he raised his hand toward me entreatingly. I came closer to see what he wanted. He tried to reach towards my hand. Baffled, I gave him my hand to hold. My father was not a physically affectionate man in any sort of way. I couldn’t remember if he had ever held my hand like this, even as a child. He squeezed my hand weakly, and I felt the walls I had built around my heart to protect myself from him tremble a little. 

I settled into the chair next to the bed so I didn’t have to keep bending awkwardly as he held my hand. The three of us sat (my father laid) in silent, shared suffering for some time. I gently squeezed his hand from time to time, weakly hoping that I was helping him to endure the pain, even if just a little. 

“Jaehyun-a,” my father said weakly, breaking the silence finally. “I’m sorry, but there is more bad news. Han Jungho will be expecting payment in the next few days.” 

“Well he made it impossible, didn’t he? He broke your legs. You won’t be able to go.” The Seven Directions gang had an “office” where they based their local operations. It was where my father had to go to deliver his payments (if he was making them). They didn’t accept wire transfers. 

My father closed his eyes again. Somehow, this usually remorseless man seemed like he was actually struggling to say the next part. Must be something in the air. It had caught Taejun too. “That’s why he didn’t break your mother’s legs too.” 

My blood felt like ice in my veins. There was no way that my mother going to their local headquarters was a good idea. She was weak and easily bullied, and who knew what they would do to her there. Even if she came with the full expected payment, they might just recognize her as an easy target, and find some way to abuse her. I couldn’t possibly allow her to go, alone or not. 

“I’ll go,” I said, as suddenly and resolutely as Taejun said he’d pay last night. The thought of going to the Seven Directions gang office was terrifying, but certainly not as terrifying as the thought of my mother going there. I should be fine. I was bringing them money to cover someone else’s debt. They had no reason to accost me. 

“B-but Jae-ya, the money… will we have enough for it all?” my mother asked worriedly. 

“Yes,” I said. With Taejun’s help, I would be able to pay it all and the hospital bills. 

She let out a sigh of relief. “So you were able to get the advance on your pay, after all.” 

I hadn’t even needed to ask, but it was probably better to let her believe that rather than telling her that the money actually came from Taejun. Despite my reassurances, my mother still looked a little pale. She was probably concerned about me going to the gang headquarters, but even she must know that her going was a worse idea. 

My dad squeezed my hand again. “Jaehyun-a… thank you.” 

My father had never thanked me before.

It was quiet in the apartment when I returned. When Taejun had gotten home, he had texted me asking if I was at the hospital. I had forgotten to tell him again that I went. I used the text to excuse myself from my visit. As I left I had promised that I’d bring some fruit for them to eat next time. 

I was surprised to see that Taejun was draped over the couch (that didn’t belong to him) instead of holed up in his home office as he usually was in the evenings. On the side table next to him was a bottle and a glass, both half-filled with some type of amber liquor (I didn’t know what it was, I didn’t really drink liquor). Taejun drinking by himself was definitely a strange sight. I found it hard to believe that he was so torn up over our parents' situation that he would resort to that. Maybe his slave driver boss had given him some shit. 

“Have you eaten? There’s a dosirak for you on the table.” He had heard me come in, but hadn’t turned to look at me. He continued staring up at something only he could see on the ceiling. 

“No.” I felt guilty for staying so late. I always made dinner; Taejun never cooked. So he had had to go out to buy something to eat. 

I wasn’t too fussed about eating hot or cold food like Taejun was, so I just took it and went over to sit and eat it on the other corner of the couch. I saw his gaze flick over to me quickly and briefly. If he was in a better mood he’d probably lecture me for eating on the couch (that didn’t belong to him). 

“Bad day at work?” I asked, nodding vaguely towards his drink. I started eating, taking care not to drop anything. 

“That’s part of it,” he said. I looked at the ceiling to see if there was a crack or a bug he was staring at but I didn’t see anything. 

It felt wrong to see Taejun, usually so brimming with confidence and charisma, looking so gloomy and defeated. He was collapsed limply against the couch like a set of clothes that had carelessly been thrown there. I decided I’d let him know about Dad’s surgery. It probably wouldn’t help alleviate his mood, but it was the only good news I had to share at the moment. 

“Dad’s surgery went well,” I said carefully, watching him for any reaction. I’d shut up the moment he showed any bit of anger, but he was unmoved, so I continued telling him about my visit, and how dad was on the painkillers but it didn’t seem to help. I relayed mother’s anxiety and how I wished that dad’s condition would improve so that she didn’t have to worry as much. 

After I had run out of things to say, I realized how (not very) diligently I’d been eating my dosirak and ate a little faster to fix my lack of progress. Taejun had remained silent the entire time I was talking and hadn’t seemed affected at all. Maybe he just wanted silence. 

I finished my dosirak and got up to throw the container away. Taejun hadn’t moved an inch since I had returned. I wondered if he planned on spending the night on my couch. At any rate, I wanted to wash up, so I gathered my things and started down the hallway. Taejun suddenly spoke, startling me a little. 

“You’d do anything for them, wouldn’t you.” 

I didn’t know what to make of him suddenly asking that after being so still and silent. 

“Well. They’re our parents.” Even if they had caused me a lot of hurt, they had given me a home and raised me. I had always felt an undeniable duty to try to return the favor of their care, sparse as it were. 

By the time I got out of the shower, Taejun’s bedroom door was shut, and he and his drink had disappeared.