Chapter 10
“How did you know? Those are from Teacher Tae joo. Melon and seaweed soup—he must’ve remembered it’s our pup’s birthday,” Grandma Gong said with a bright smile.
“No wonder our little pup keeps singing praises about Teacher. How did he know you love melon? Such a kind and thoughtful young man.”
Hearing Grandma’s words, the tears I’d held back all day started to well up.
“Grandma, when was Teacher here?”
“He just left. Oh my, you must’ve missed him while coming up.”
Before she could even finish, I dashed out of the hospital room. I scanned the corridor and hurried down the hall, practically running.
Standing by the elevator, I anxiously checked the display before giving up and heading for the stairs.
Teacher.
Teacher…!
I wanted to see him so badly. I ran until I was completely out of breath.
The chilly air greeted Tae joo as he stepped out of the hospital entrance.
Haah…
A white cloud of breath floated into the air. He’d needed the fresh air.
As he tried to calm his breathing, an ambulance with blaring sirens sped past him. The doors swung open, and paramedics wheeled out a patient drenched in blood.
“Doctor! This is the car accident victim we mentioned over the phone!”
“The OR is prepped. Let’s move quickly!”
The shouts of paramedics and the hurried movements of nurses and doctors blurred Tae joo’s vision.
Everything seemed like a slow-motion black-and-white film—except for the vivid red of the blood.
The sight burned his throat, making it hard to breathe. This is why I hate hospitals, he thought.
Closing his eyes briefly, Tae joo tried to erase the haunting images. It was all because of those five words: Grandma’s Hospital on Yoon Seol’s phone screen.
[Are you the tutor for our Seol? You’re the Chairman’s grandson, right?]
Even in her hospital gown, the “Flower Vase Lady” greeted him warmly, as if he were an old friend.
[Oh dear, sorry to trouble you. I just called to check if she had seaweed soup on her birthday, but she ended up dragging you into it. You must be so busy as a young person.]
He’d chuckled as he accepted the orange juice she handed him, but as he turned to leave—
“Teacher!”
He instinctively turned toward the voice and was caught off guard as someone threw themselves into his arms. A navy baseball cap fell off, and long hair swayed messily.
“…Teacher.”
The familiar figure clung tightly to his waist.
“Yoon Seol?”
Her face was mostly hidden behind a mask, but her red, tear-filled eyes curved into a crescent-shaped smile.
“Teacher, I like you,” she whispered, burying her face into his chest. Her grip around his waist was firm.
“Let go. People are watching,” Tae joo muttered, almost patting her back but stopping himself.
“No! You were just going to leave, weren’t you? Why didn’t you come to see me before going? You should’ve seen me first!”
“Let go, and we’ll talk.”
“Promise me you won’t leave. It’s still my birthday, Teacher. My birthday isn’t over yet.”
She clung to him like a child holding onto their mother, afraid she’d disappear. I should’ve just sent the phone by courier, Tae joo thought, regretting answering that call tied to the word “hospital.”
He sighed and placed a hand lightly on Seol’s head.
“I’m not leaving. Let go, and we’ll talk.”
“Really?”
Still skeptical, she reluctantly loosened her grip.
“Just water?”
“Yes.”
Seol accepted the bottle of water Tae joo handed her with both hands.
They sat in the small garden behind the hospital, a space meant for patients to take a stroll. It was empty at this late hour.
“What about you, Teacher?”
Tae joo wordlessly shook the orange juice bottle he’d received earlier.
Seol giggled. It felt like the best birthday ever, even though she had thought it’d be one of the worst.
“Grandma loves that juice,” she said.
Tae joo sat down next to her, leaving some space between them.
“It’s made with 100% orange juice, so she says it’s super sweet,” Seol explained, chuckling at her silly remark.
Her laughter was contagious, and the sound of her giggles lightened the mood. She seemed carefree now, despite everything.
“Doesn’t it bother you to be out here? We could go back inside,” Tae joo suggested.
“It’s not like that.”
Teacher, you don’t know anything, Seol thought, pouting slightly.
She rubbed at her cheek absentmindedly, ignoring the dull pain from earlier. It didn’t matter. With him next to her, nothing else did.
“I saw the melon you brought,” she said, her eyes sparkling.
For her, the melon was a symbol of gratitude, a memory of when Tae joo had once indulged her.
“You brought it because of me, didn’t you?”
“No, I just couldn’t come empty-handed.”
“But you knew I liked melon, didn’t you?”
“It was the only fruit left.”
“Liar.”
Seol chattered on happily, and Tae joo shrugged, finally admitting, “It’s to pay you back for the kimbap.”
“Did you eat it all?”
“Yeah, nearly got indigestion.”
“But it was good, right? I can make it for you every day, Teacher.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Don’t say no, though,” she teased, grinning at him as if he were the cutest person in the world.
“What’s that look on your face?” Tae joo frowned.
“What look?”
“Something… smug, I’d say.”
“How can you tell when I’m wearing a mask?”
“Don’t need to see it to know.”
“Teacher, do you know something?”
“What now?”
“You’re really cute.”
Tae joo almost spat out his juice and quickly turned his head away. Seol reached out, trying to pat his head, but he stopped her just in time.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Even as she retracted her hand, Seol couldn’t stop smiling.
He wasn’t as mean as he pretended to be. From the beginning, Tae joo had been different. He was the one who taught her that she deserved a normal life, something she hadn’t dared to dream of before.
“Alright, time to go inside,” Tae joo said, tossing the empty bottle into the trash.
No, not yet.
“Not yet, Teacher. My birthday’s not over. You haven’t even said happy birthday properly.”
“Fine. Happy birthday.”
“I’ve been waiting for today. I even turned twenty!”
At that, Tae joo’s brow twitched in suspicion.
“So… can I ask for one birthday gift, Teacher?”
