Six years later
Hyunjin
I didn't take Akira in straight away. Not in the way that people usually mean when they talk about family. I took him in the only way I knew how, by staying.
The first few months were quiet. He didn't cry often. He just held on to me. As soon as I moved, he was right behind me. As soon as I left the room, he would look for me. Sunhee said that was normal. Children, who had lost everything chose security over words. She helped us both. She taught us how to touch without hurting. She taught us how to speak slowly. She taught us not to expect gratitude.
Ironically, Taesung found it harder to learn than I did. As he said himself, he had never had much experience with children and had struggled to raise his stepbrothers. But after a while, he got used to it just as well as I did. Eventually, he had no problem picking Akira up and playing with him.
Akira got used to kindergarten. He laughed. He played. He brought home pictures of the three of us. Sometimes there were more of us. That's when he drew Taejua, Hanil and Janil, too.
He first asked at school. About his name. And about his father. He also asked about his mother, who died shortly after giving birth. He wanted to know, why he was named the way he was. Sunhee told me then that the truth is not a single moment. It's a process. She said that children can handle more than we think, as long as they are not alone.
He's in the third grade now. He knows that his world did not start where he remembers it. He knows that his blood belonged to someone else. He also knows that I found him.
He never asked me if I had killed his father. I never had to tell him. Once, he just rested his head on my shoulder and said that you can understand some things even if you don't talk about them. At that moment, I knew he had made his choice. Not because he didn't know. But because he knew enough.
Someone else gave him blood.
We gave him life.
He sits with Taesung at the kitchen table doing his homework while Taeju cooks dinner. I listen to the silence we've fought for.
Then he gets up. The chair behind him creaks slightly on the floor. Before I can say anything, he's already running towards me.
„Dad," he calls, and his voice is still the same. Natural. Confident. As if there had never been any other option.
He stops in front of me with a crumpled notebook in his hand.
„Look," he says, holding it out to me proudly. „Dad and I got it right." I look back at the table. Taesung looks at me over the rim of his mug, the corners of his mouth slightly raised as if it were obvious. As if nothing had ever happened to him. And yet I know that everything did happen.
I take the notebook in my hand. The numbers are rough and the lines are crooked, but the result is correct. I nod.
„You're right," I say. Akira lights up so brightly, that he could fill the whole room with his light.
„See?" he says, turning back to Taesung. „I told you we could do it." There is more truth in that than I would ever dare say out loud.
Looking at both of them, I realise that some debts are not repaid with blood.
They are repaid by staying.
Every day. Again and again.
... ༺༻ ...
Dinner is quiet. It's just the two of us. There is no security, no witnesses and no noise from the outside world. The rice slowly cools and the wine remains almost untouched. Taesung plays with his chopsticks, I watch him and wonder how long I have known this thing.
„Taei," I say finally. He looks up at me. His eyes are calm, he must have fought hard to achieve that calm, just as I did. I reach across the table and take his hand in mine. Firmly. Confidently.
„All my life, I thought I held things together with strength," I say quietly. „I thought that if I was tough enough, no one could take them away from me." I swallow. „You taught me that some things can't be held on to. They're chosen." I pull out the box and place it between us. „Will you stay with me?" There's a short pause. „As my husband."
He doesn't answer right away. He just takes a deep breath, as if air has finally reached his lungs. Then he smiles — the smile that always tore me apart. „Yes," he says simply. „It's always been yes." The idea actually came from Akira, who one day about seven months ago ran up to me and asked, why Taesung didn't have the same surname as me.
... ༺༻ ...
We drive home in silence. But it's not a fearful silence. It's a meaningful silence. I unlock the front door and freeze. How did he know I was going to say it today?
Akira is standing in the middle of the living room holding a huge, lopsided cardboard box. Coloured markers, glitter and hearts. The box has CONGRATULATIONS! written on it in large letters. Below that: DAD HYUNJIN + DAD TAESUNG = FAMILY
„Did you say yes, dad?" he blurts out excitedly. Before we can answer, there is applause. Hanil and Janil emerge from the kitchen, each holding a beer. Taeju is behind them, leaning against the doorframe with a "I told you so" look on his face. I realise that this whole thing has been planned for some time.
„Finally," Taeju says. „I was starting to think I'd have to arrange it myself." Taesung laughs, and Akira throws his arms around his neck.
„We had to push Dad a little," he announces proudly. „Uncle Taeju helped me."
„I just advised him on how to do it," Taeju corrects him. „The kid is obviously a genius." I look at them. This is the family we didn't choose by blood, but by choice. In a world where everything comes at a price, this peace is the most precious thing we will ever have.
... ༺༻ ...
THE END
... ༺༻ ...
BLOOD DEBT (피의 빚)