“Cheese bread.”

“Just cheese bread?” Junhyung questioned. He opened the breadbox positioned on the left side of the counter.

“And cereal! But no milk,” added Yoseob with a light beating of the fists on the dining table. The boy was appropriately dressed in his uniform for his Monday return to school… Almost. “Oh, you’re getting milk.” Junhyung opened a cupboard, too, where Yoseob’s colorfully plastic bowls were stacked. He chose the yellow one.

“But I don’t want iiiit,” whined Yoseob, bearing an expression that suggested he’d lost his puppy… if he ever had a puppy.

The whining. Again with all this whining.

Junhyung turned towards the table with eyebrows sternly bent, “You’re going to have milk in your cereal whether you want it there or not.” He saw Yoseob’s bare feet swinging from the chair, squinting at them. “Why don’t you have on your socks? The heater’s broken. Do you want to catch a cold?”

He sent the boy back to his room to put on a pair of socks as he prepared his easy meal.

Weeks were months for Junhyung, and going by that timekeeping, to him it had been three months since Doojoon’s eviction. Things were progressing very slowly. Things were difficult.

Things were different.

No Doojoon. No little, annoying keyboard tickling Junhyung’s ears. No random smells of food from different worlds warming their home. No sounds of Yoseob’s bubbly laughter as “monster” Doojoon “ate” him.

This were undeniably different…

Yoseob, with black socks on his feet, was called to the dining table. He helped himself into his chair again as his umma orderly set out his juice, cheese bread and bowl of cereal floating in milk on his table mat. Yoseob grimaced a little at the flakes dampened in the liquid, but quickly seated his roused scowl and started on his cheese bread when Junhyung peeked at him.

“Be ready to leave when I get out of the shower,” advised Junhyung.

He’d penciled himself in for a full morning and mid-afternoon shift at his bakery. He’d been doing a lot of that. The seasons were changing. It was getting chillier outside, and Fate thought it suitable to worsen Junhyung’s life ever the more and have the house’s heating unit malfunction. He logged more hours at his job so he could call in a repairman to come and look at it. “Looking” at something alone cost money. “Fixing” required payment, too. Junhyung could look at the heater and tell it was broken, so why the hell should he pay someone for simply glancing his eye? Something he alone could do? Yoseob’s bimonthly fee to Little Kkochi Academy would be due soon; Junhyung had to put a little cash away at a time for that, along with mortgage and not to mention various expenses for his shop.

Everything fell on him.

But Junhyung could take it, so long as he was on top of his game. So long as he did not let his dwindling funds discourage him. So long as he pieced himself together each moment that he needed to fall apart.

And even with his malleable backbone, he did fall apart, and many times since Doojoon left. He didn’t want anyone to know his pain. Because, even if he felt utterly powerless to the situation depicted as a stone obstruction in his path, a little resilient piece in him whispered strength into his body and spirit. That little renewing piece of resilience was Yoseob. Junhyung would do anything to support that little boy. He had to. Yoseob was first. He was always going to be first, even when he was second on Doojoon’s list. Or maybe even third. Junhyung made himself swear to himself that Yoseob would not ever be second on anyone’s list ever again.

The shower was hot. Junhyung’s entire backside was knotted up. He damned the chairs at the office of his beloved second job. He knew floorboards that were more comfortable and supporting. All weekend he had been working in his cozy cubical, typing up some other slave’s work and brainlessly filing like a madman. He was expecting his paycheck from the company at any time… it would be nothing to brag about, he knew that, but it definitely would help. Kikwang tried to pitch in financially; Junhyung refused the aid. He didn’t need his friend solving his woes as if he himself was inept of doing so. The independence and pride streaming in his blood wouldn’t permit such. Kikwang warned him about that. It would be his “downfall”, he said. Junhyung shrugged that off. He was a man. Doojoon wasn’t. Someone had to do it.

Junhyung stepped out. He clothed himself in his dark shirt and slacks, and his yellow signature baking apron. He looked at himself in the mirror. His cheeks looked a little sunken, but retained a ghostly layer of pink. He appeared presentable. Junhyung tried a smile. It hurt; the idled muscles complained from the sudden use. He didn’t smile so much nowadays.

Done with his mirror-gazing, Junhyung walked into the dining room. Out of a basket where fresh fruit was cradled, the man cupped a green apple for himself. He didn’t eat so much, either. His appetite was rarely there.

Junhyung strode to the table to check on Yoseob’s progress.

His juice was gone. Yoseob chewed on his last bit of cheese bread. The cereal was untouched. Soggy flakes marinated in the milk. Junhyung stopped from taking the initial bite out of his apple by this discovery. He towered over the young boy; his menacing shadow painted on the wooden table’s surface intimidated the latter. Yoseob braced himself.

“Why didn’t you eat your cereal?” Junhyung inquired lowly.

“‘Cause I didn’t want milk…” lightly replied Yoseob. He sank some in his seat.

“But I told you you were getting milk. Didn’t I?”

“Yeah…”

“And you eat your cereal with milk all the time. Right?”

“But appa lets me eat it with no milk sometimes--”

“--Appa’s not here. I’m here. And when I’m here you’re going to have milk in your cereal. I didn’t even pour you that much. But it’s gotten soggy, and we’ve run out of time. So now I have to throw out perfectly-good cereal,” ranted Junhyung. He snatched up the bowl -- without spilling anything, stunningly -- and dumped the whole bowl on the right side of the sink. Yoseob’s brown eyes watched, observing and mentally recording Junhyung’s posture, his tight face, his stiffness. This was not his umma. This hadn’t been his umma for some time. A long time.

He didn’t like this umma.

Junhyung ran water down the sink. “We can’t waste food Yoseob. That’s something we don’t do around here. I shouldn’t have to tell you that,” he switched the water off, “Go get your shoes.”

Yoseob hurried to his room. He brought the black shoes from his closet and was standing before Junhyung in a dash. Yoseob looked over each shoe to be sure his right foot went in the right shoe, and his left foot in the left. Junhyung kneeled to tie them.

“Can I tie them?” Yoseob innocently asked with gentle breath.

“No,” Junhyung whipped. “We’re already going to be late. If you would have eaten your cereal like I told you, then I wouldn’t have fussed at you and maybe you could’ve tied your own shoes.”

The little boy frowned at Junhyung’s bruising words… Junhyung’s hands were swishing about as he made bunnies magically appear on his shoes.

Junhyung made Yoseob eat his apple in place of the ruined cereal on their ride to his school. Yoseob liked apples, but he did not like the idea or upsetting his umma more. He chomped and chomped really fast. He didn’t want to agitate Junhyung more than he already had. It made him feel bad… His umma looked upset all the time.

The disgruntled Junhyung cursed under growls at the slow-moving vehicles in front of him as he drove. They arrived in a solid piece. The pair exited the car, Junhyung holding onto Yoseob’s apple core as he started his inspection at the crown of the little one’s head.

“Umma.”

Junhyung looked up to Yoseob quickly as if to answer his call.

“I’m sorry about not eating my cereal…”

The boy’s round brown bowls honestly portrayed his apology. The older man’s hands finished patting out the few wrinkles that had escaped the iron out of Yoseob’s pants.

“‘Sorry’ means nothing when you don’t mean it with your heart, Yoseob. Especially when you keep saying it over and over,” Junhyung folded down his socks, “Remember, never say ‘sorry’ when you aren’t.”

“But I am sorry…”

“I believe you, Seobie.”

Junhyung embraced him… He put a fast kiss in his hair, then smoothed down the disturbed patch of hair his hasty lips created. Their gazes entwined. Yoseob finally felt it was safe enough to smile… and Junhyung softly smiled back.

And it didn’t hurt.

“Milk is good for you. That’s why umma put it in there. I know there were times that appa would let you eat cereal without it, but next time… just do as I say. Umma needs you to be good… I have a lot of things to do, and I’m working really hard for us. I don’t have time nor room to argue about things with you. And I raise my voice at you because I care about you and I want you to grow up strong. You understand me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright… I love you, okay?”

“‘Kay. Me too.”

“It would make umma feel better if you said it.”

A pout mixed with Yoseob’s broadening grin.

“…I love you, too, umma.”

Junhyung laughed… Their arms twisted around each other, bringing their bodies into a full embrace again. He bid his little one good day, and Yoseob left his arms. He locked hands with Hyunseung.

An awake and alert Hyunseung waved back to Junhyung.

And Junhyung did the same.

Today might not be so bad. (Minutes After…)

Wind chimes sang. Kikwang’s head turned for the door; he was positioning cream-yellow chairs and situating them around the small tables of the shop. Though they were more for decoration and aesthetics. Typical customers ordered their desired cake and were right on their way.

Junhyung strode in.

“Hey, Junnie. Good morning!”

Junhyung nodded his head in greeting. “Any service?”

“Your cupcakes are good, but I don’t think many are hankering for cupcakes as early as nine,” joked Kikwang. Junhyung smacked his lips and smirked. He strolled behind the elevated, main counter to clock himself in. The ink was running low… He bent over, reaching for more cartridges.

A tightness restricted very much movement, though he managed to successfully pick up the box of spare ink cartridges for his nifty automated clocking machine. His lower back throbbed. Junhyung comforted it with ministering of his hand.

“God, my back is killing me…” he murmured.

“Want a massage?”

“We’re on duty now, Kiki.”

“But it’s still too early for cupcakes…” Finished with handling the chairs, Kikwang took the very last one and dragged it from the corner. He pat the seat, “It’ll be quick.”

Junhyung sighed… and Kikwang tsked.

“The more you refuse, the more time you’re wasting~”

And goodness, he did need a massage or some brief, healing contact for his backside. He would be standing all day. Kikwang gave him massages in the past, and recently with his new job springing up problems for his overworked body. Junhyung groaned and scuffled to the chair, seating himself.

Kikwang was pleased with his decision. He clasped Junhyung’s shoulders with a reflexive, delicate touch. Junhyung relaxed. He sank into the cushioned chair. Kikwang put all of his focus in his hands. His were premeditated and unhurried. He knew the places that would have Junhyung as limber and comfortable, and was going to strike them as many times as he demanded.

“You were kind of late today…” mentioned Kikwang, starting at the shoulders.

“Yeah… had to scold Yoseob a little. Nothing big, but he made me pour out a bowl of cereal because he didn’t want the milk.”

“Aww… I haven’t seen him in a while…”

That was because Junhyung was trying to do everything himself.

Junhyung just… shrugged.

“And it’s been a while since you’ve had a break. I hope you’re taking care of yourself.”

“I’m not dead, am I?”

Kikwang’s sweet hands fanned over Junhyung’s lumbar.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m still just across the street. If you need me to watch Yoseob for a day, you know I can do that. We can all use a little help, and I know you can use a breather.”

“I’ll call you when I need you.”

And that meant “never”. But Kikwang wasn’t going to take that as a definitive answer. His right hand grasped Junhyung’s chin and pulled up until the latter was now looking north into Kikwang’s seriously brown eyes.

“I’m your friend. I’m going to help you, and I will by picking up Yoseob from school this afternoon. You’re going to go out and do something. I know you feel that you need to be an umma twenty-four seven, but even ummas need rest. I’m going to watch him today. Alright?”

Kikwang.

There was nothing Junhyung could do with him.

♥

Junhyung never expected to be here.

He never anticipated a parent conference concerning Yoseob. For Little Kkochi Academy, parent conferences were only scheduled if certain problems arising from the child threatened their learning experience. Good reports were typically brief in time and delivered via telephone call. Having to physically come to the school foretold a story that could not bring about good news for Junhyung… Hyunseung called the home the day before, scheduling the meeting for today.

At the present moment, Junhyung was sitting ever so patiently in a red preschooler chair at one of the small tables the children were also seated around throughout the day. Another red seat was pulled up to the table, reserved and waiting for Hyunseung who had disappeared to his mini office for Yoseob’s school file. He’d been waiting a good minute. But that he didn’t mind. There was much to keep his eyes busy. The lights overhead buzzed annoyingly in noiseless air. Childlike creations with all their colorfulness garnished the walls. Junhyung crossed many number charts, phonetic charts, and play stations set aside with stimulating toys. Artwork was displayed on billboards all about the room. Junhyung made a game out of peering around to see if he could spot any of his son’s genius work…

“Junhyung?”

Junhyung jumped.

Hyunseung, smiling, motioned over to the red chair and sat. He had Yoseob’s file in his other hand and placed it on the table top.

“I apologize for making you wait,” said Hyunseung.

“It was nothing.”

“Yoseob didn’t want to come?”

“He’s at a friend’s house…” Kikwang’s house.

“Ohhh… Well, maybe it’s better this way,” Hyunseung cleared this throat and firmed his jaw, “Well, the reason why we are here is to discuss Yoseob’s progress.”

The assistant opened the file, shoving on some glasses that appeared to have come from his pocket. Junhyung’s eyes swished to the picture of Yoseob in the upper right-hand corner of his school documentation form. He was smiling so wide and confidently… his eyes as lustrous as smooth stones. Junhyung smiled the smile of a proud umma. His baby was so handsome…

“We’re putting on a play for the parents a few months from now. It’s to do with our solar system. Would you like to guess who has the role of the Sun?”

Junhyung’s grin was elastic… Hyunseung chuckled.

“He was so excited. He is our star student. However… nowadays… It has been increasingly difficult to catch and hold his attention. I’ve done some observations. He… Yoseob appears to me to be very distracted. And detectably withdrawn. He prefers to play by himself now. And this does not agree with me, because Yoseob is a very, very sociable boy. Discussion-wise, he hasn’t been participating as actively as he has shown in the past, and when he is called upon, the question must be repeated and I often find myself having to guide him to the answer. This change… it’s diametric of his normal demeanor. I don’t understand it, but,” Hyunseung removed the glasses, “But I was hoping that your being here could help me with that, Junhyung.”

…Junhyung’s silence and the faraway stare of his dull eyes added coldness to the situation. Hyunseung’s every word was acknowledged with clear and whole understanding.

“I… I never knew he was… I never… When did this start?”

Hyunseung’s hands flipped furiosuly through sheet after sheet from the file, “My records indicate… roughly a month ago.”

A month ago. “Roughly.”

Junhyung knew what went down “roughly a month ago.” His acknowledgment of that could be read from his profile, and was read by the assistant teacher.

“Has something happened? How are things at home? Any sudden changes, occurrences…? Even altering medication can affect a child’s behavior, though I do not think Yoseob is on any medication… That’s what the records tell me.”

Junhyung exhaled… “He’s not. His father -- Doojoon… he’s… he’s absent.”

“Ahh… why?”

Junhyung kept quiet. Discussing this personal matter with an assistant teacher wasn’t exactly very easy. Or normal, to say the least.

“…Junhyung, everything between us is confidential. You can say anything here… And I would very much like to know the reason for Yoseob’s disinterest in school. It would definitely help in taking the first step to treat this behavior. These are the fragile years where he is going to be very dependent on both parents’ presence. Seeing him behave in such a polar way--”

“Doojoon was being unfaithful. So I had him leave the house.”

Hyunseung blinked… “Ohh… I’m very sorry about that, Junhyung… How long has he been gone?”

“A long time. Weeks.”

“And have you yourself noticed changes in Yoseob’s character?”

“Talking back, moments where he’s quiet, irritableness… abnormally independent…”

“Yes, this is the same for me. Has he seen Doojoon at all?”

“…No.”

“Has he talked to him?”

“No.”

“So he has had no type of direct contact with Doojoon since you sent him out?”

And that was more of a solid statement than a question. Junhyung affirmed with a nodding gesture.

“And why is this?”

“I can’t bear having him around. Even speaking with him over the phone infuriates me. He doesn’t deserve the right to see Yoseob after what he’s done.”

“And I can understand why you feel that way, Junhyung. Perfectly normal. But Yoseob… He’s a child. He is the innocent one in the midst of this situation. He’s grown up with you and Doojoon in the same household, and to have that natural balance disrupted, his natural balance is subsequently altered--”

“--So you’re suggesting that I bring him back in?” Junhyung said flatly. His eyes were very… opaque, disagreeing with Hyunseung’s subtle suggestion.

“N-Not necessarily that, no. You may not desire any contact with Doojoon, but it is Yoseob that is craving time with him. It may not be for Doojoon, but Yoseob needs it. I would suggest allowing him to see Doojoon periodically, say… on weekends? A-And maybe not every weekend. Two weekends out of every month? It’s whatever you want. However long it takes you and Doojoon to get your personal lives straightened out. The sooner, the better, though.”

And “sooner” would be “better”.

But “sooner” was unrealistic.

Junhyung’s heart was still trying to learn how to function with half of its innards ripped out.

(Later…)

Ringing, ringing.

With each telephone ring came an extra heartbeat for Junhyung. He had dialed up his estranged lover -- or ex-boyfriend or whatever he decided he was at the moment -- to fill him in on the circumstance at hand. He was nervous, his heart skipping and hopping… He hadn’t heard Doojoon’s voice in a very long time…

“Yoseob?” Doojoon asked.

Junhyung sighed into the phone, “It’s me.”

“Oh. Jun. Um, hey… Uh… How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“Do… Do you need anything? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been handling myself quite well. But I haven’t called for myself. It’s about Yoseob.”

Panic rushed Doojoon’s words. “Seobie? I-Is he alright?”

“He’s not doing well in school.”

This pacified the panic and it slowly dissipated… but a new worry arose in Doojoon. It was not Yoseob’s physical wellbeing that was in danger anymore.

“…Why?” Doojoon questioned.

“The assistant teacher called me in for a parent conference and told me about his sudden aloofness. He’s playing by himself. He’s more quiet. He doesn’t want to do much. He’s acting out because he hasn’t seen you. Hyunseung told me that allowing you visits would ease him. Just for a weekend.”

“Just a weekend?”

“That’s my offer. I haven’t exactly forgotten what you’ve done. You should be grateful that I’m even granting you the opportunity to see him.”

“Well, he is my son.”

“Your son that you blew off.”

“Junhyung. Please don’t start this--”

“I’m not starting anything,” said Junhyung, and innocently, and with a relaxed, “I’m just speaking the truth.”

“Then let’s not speak the truth right now. This is about Yoseob and what we need to do as parents to fix this. Though I’m glad Hyunseung told you that I do have a right to see him.”

“Actually, Doojoon. You gave up that right when you propped Blondie on my kitchen counter.”

“But putting that aside, having me out of the house has apparently affected Yoseob in a negative way. Junhyung, what’s done is done. You have to let it go. If you want Yoseob to ever… get better and refocus on his studies, we need to go beyond feelings and do what’s best for our baby.”

“So… So you just want me to forget about all that you’ve done to me? How you’ve disrespected me? Mistreated me? Just so you can get what you want? What about what I want? I’ve never gotten what I’ve wanted from you. Never, Doojoon--”

“--You’re not understanding what I’m saying--”

“--Don’t tell me what I don’t understand.”

Doojoon sighed. “See? This is why--”

“--‘Why’ what? This is why you what? Finish it, Doojoon.”

“Junhyung just stop--”

“--This is why you cheated on me? That’s what you were going to say?”

“You never let me finish anything! You constantly put words in my mouth, but you’ve never stopped once -- once! -- to listen to me!”

“And why should I listen to a liar?!”

All this thunderous ruckus from Junhyung’s end disturbed the curiosity of the young one playing in his room. Yoseob walked warily into the cold hallway. He poked around the corner and watched Junhyung ball his fist and pace back and forth and put a hand on his hip and flail his left arm.

“Because a relationship involves two people. There are two voices. Not one! You listen in a relationship, Junhyung!”

“Some balls you’ve got to preach to me about what you should and shouldn’t do in a relationship. I don’t have to listen to a goddamn thing that spouts from you, Yoon Doojoon--”

“--Appa?”

Junhyung looked down at the peep he’d heard. Two glistening, apprehensive brown jewels probed Junhyung. A smiling Yoseob had tipped to the left of him, and Junhyung had never seen him produce such a authentic expression of sheer joy since the man on the other line disappeared.

“Is that appa?” the little one asked again, cocking his head. The smile was growing on his lips like a little happy weed in sunlight.

Doojoon heard his background peeping. “Yoseob…?”

“I’m on the phone, Yoseob. Go play,” shooed Junhyung.

“But I want to talk to him,” the child whined.

“Give him the phone, Junhyung.” Doojoon pushed.

“You must not have heard a single word I’ve been saying this past minute?”

“I don’t care about any of that. Put him on the phone, Junhyung.” It was very grounded and authorizing, and it struck the wrong side of Junhyung.

“And just who are you yelling at?”

It got really quiet on the other side… Junhyung listened for some time to Doojoon breathing heavily into the receiver.

“Baby. Baby, please… You don’t even have to call me ever again. As long as I can talk to him just this one time. I… I miss him so much. A minute, thirty seconds… Just two words… anything… I need to hear him. I beg you, Jun…”

There wasn’t much Junhyung could say after that. Doojoon was groveling -- no -- past groveling at this point. Little trembles ripped the clarity away from his soft words… words doubled in emotion and despair.

“Doojoon!”

Junhyung’s gut punched his heart.

“Doojoon…? Doojoon where are yooou~?”

Another punch.

Junhyung’s heart woke and listened to this new voice in the background, calling his boyfriend’s name.

His heart enlarged… but not with anger.

But with an inconceivable heaviness. With sadness.

He knew who it was. He knew where Doojoon was. And Doojoon knew that he knew. He was stone silent.

“Doo--There you are! I just bought some--”

Junhyung heard Doojoon shush the extra voice.

A tight lump of which the likes of man has never witness found the slot of the top of Junhyung’s throat the most comfortable. He sat down slowly, now cradling the phone with two hands.

“Are you at his house…? You’re at that boy’s house?” Junhyung crackled, his breathed words struggling past the little space the lump permitted.

No answer from Doojoon. Just silence and a sigh.

“Doojoon… Just tell me…”

“…I had nowhere else to go.”

“So you decided to go to him?”

“You know my parents wouldn’t take me in. You wouldn’t take me--”

“--But I would rather have you home than have you stay over h-his… his…”

Doojoon listened to Junhyung’s struggles of trying to hold himself together, and not fall apart over the phone. Not while Doojoon could hear, and not in front of Yoseob. He needed to know what being strong was.

“Baby…” Doojoon uttered with the weight of clouds.

Junhyung’s tear ducts swallowed the tears. Base returned in his voice. “No, Doo. Don’t ‘Baby’ me. As a matter of fact, don’t ever call here. You hear me? I don’t care what happens to you, you’d better not call here -- for anything -- ever again. I hope he takes care of you, because I’m not putting up with this anymore. I don’t deserve this. Have a nice life.”

Junhyung threw the phone to the floor.

Yoseob didn’t care about the loud noise it made. Or how the batteries shattered from it at such a pitch he thought his ears might bleed out. He cared about his phone call with his father… a phone call that he now would never get.

“Why did you do that, umma? Why did you hang up?!”

Junhyung had his head tucked in his hands.

“I wanted to talk to appa--!!”

“--APPA DOESN’T LOVE YOU. OKAY? HE DOESN’T CARE ABOUT YOU, OR ME. GO TO YOUR ROOM. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR YOUR WHINING.”

Yoseob saw the tears leap off of his umma’s shivering pink face. He saw him fall into the pillows of that couch and lay there, his shoulders shaking and he heard sounds he’s never heard his umma make tear away the little serenity the air had left.

Yet Yoseob went to his room like he was told.

And he wondered why his appa did not love him. (Later…)

It was after dinnertime.

At this hour, Yoseob would be hanging on for dear life to Junhyung or Doojoon’s left or right leg -- whichever and whoever was available -- hollering for either parent to play and roughhouse with him before being forced against his will to go to bed for the night.

With Doojoon gone, and with him not being on good terms with Junhyung, Yoseob watched cartoons instead.

Junhyung finished clearing the table. After this would come the dishwashing, but the man wanted to postpone this, if not needed to. After some observations of his own, encouraged by Hyunseung’s personal discoveries, Junhyung noted Yoseob’s growing antisocial behavior. It began to worry him, as it should. Plus the “appa doesn’t love you” had something to do with his current behavior. The child and his umma weren’t bonding and haven’t been with Junhyung voluntarily driving himself to mental, emotional and physical exhaustion with work. But he had to support them… He cut out some time to interact with Yoseob out of his day, though it seemed every time he talked or had any interaction with Yoseob, it was always within a negative atmosphere. The little boy was either incessantly talking back or being disruptive or whining. He was acting far out of character. Hyunseung was correct yet again: this new living arrangement was affecting Yoseob dynamically. Him and them both.

Junhyung had to fix it.

The man tossed the dishcloth into the sink and turned off the overhead light drenching the dining table. Yoseob was entranced with the brightly-colored characters flashing about the box. Junhyung strolled to the sofa and sat. Only Yoseob’s little head was visible to him along with the rest of his small backside.

“Yoseob.”

“Yes?” the boy peeped.

Junhyung cleared his throat. He was going to sound gentle… “Come here. Sit on the couch with me.”

Yoseob left the small cold carpet and hopped onto the couch. He sat adjacent to his umma. The latter observed the boy… “So you’re too big to sit in umma’s lap now?” he lightly joked. Yoseob’s eyes burned with a sweet light when he turned his head to look at Junhyung. His small lips -- though nervous -- could not contain his big smile at that invitation. He crawled into the center of Junhyung’s lap, wiggling about just to find that spot where he felt he would be the most comfortable. Yoseob was soon in the security of his umma’s arms.

“Are you cold?”

Yoseob nestled some more.

“A little bit… But I’m okay.”

“I’m gonna have the heater fixed soon, so it won’t be so cold anymore.”

Junhyung rubbed Yoseob’s arms and legs with his palms to banish the goose bumps forming on his skin with the driving force of warmth. He could easily rise out of his seat and find them a blanket to cuddle in, but he did not want to disrupt this crucial moment. He needed to talk with his son. He needed to know what taunted his young mind. He needed to know what his worries were. What he wanted from his umma. What he felt and what he was feeling…

“How’s school?” Junhyung asked softly. That was a simple question to start with. He held onto Yoseob’s small hands. They were lukewarm.

“Good.”

“‘Good’? That’s all?”

Yoseob shrugged his shoulders, occupied with diligently weaving his fingers with Junhyung’s.

“…Jang-ssi told me that you all were going to do a play of the solar system. He told me you were the Sun.”

“Yeah.”

“The Sun is very important to us. To everything. Can you tell me why?”

“Because… Because if we had no Sun we would all be cold and die.”

Junhyung laughed at that confidently-made statement.

“Yes… that’s quite right. It would be very cold. There would be no plants. And animals need plants to eat, too. So there wouldn’t be any animals, would there?”

“No.”

“And then there wouldn’t be anything for us to eat. Right?”

Yoseob bobbed his head, playing with Junhyung’s fingers, “Everything would be dead.”

“Well, really, there would be nothing to begin with. We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for the Sun. So you are very important to all of us, Seobie,” Junhyung poked Yoseob in side. It victoriously drew a pitchy laugh from his teeny self.

“Umma’s gonna help you practice your lines, alright?”

Yoseob nodded. Junhyung began to pet his soft mane…

He swallowed.

“……Are you happy, Yoseob?”

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah…? Why ‘sometimes’?”

Patiently did Junhyung wait for his child to proceed, but all he got was a hung head… Yoseob humped his sagged shoulders. The child’s feelings were having a field day playing all over his small face: sadness, misunderstanding… and a little anger. That was jolting.

“Why, Yoseob? Why are you ‘sometimes’ happy?” Junhyung coaxed.

Yoseob idly played with his own sets of fingers, though they were consolingly overtaken by Junhyung’s strong ones. Brown eyes moved with indifference as they peered into the older man’s set.

“…Is it because of what umma said?”

Yoseob looked down and nodded again. Junhyung swallowed harder. He knew he would regret saying what he did. Everything was so intense and charged during that moment earlier, words simply flew out of his mouth without the “OK” from his heart. But even his heart was hurt. Every word seemed rational… But what he said was not suitable at all for a child’s ears.

“Umma was wrong, Seobie. Very wrong. I was wrong to yell at you, and I was wrong about what I said. Because appa… appa loves you. He loves you so much. More than anything in this world. Don’t ever let anyone make you believe anything else. Even me. Okay?”

“Okay…”

“You do understand me, don’t you?”

“I do, umma.”

Junhyung exhaled deeply… He locked their fingers. “Appa misses you, too.”

Yoseob upheld a look of adorable astonishment. “He does?”

“Of course he does.”

“…I thought he forgot about me.”

“Noooo, sweetie… Appa didn’t forget about you.”

“Then why didn’t he want to talk to me?”

Junhyung stopped himself.

He didn’t want to lie to Yoseob, or fabricate some false story that he would come up with the floating thoughts in his cranium. Yoseob deserved the truth of what happened that night. He deserved to know everything. Keeping him in the dark when he was being emotionally affected wasn’t fair to the boy. It was time that he knew why things were the way they were.

“Yoseob. You know… appa and I… we loved each other. We had each other’s hearts.”

“And you kissed him.”

“Yes, I did--”

“--A lot. And every day after breakfast.”

Junhyung chuckled there…

“Yes. I did kiss him a lot… We loved each other very much. But appa loved someone else, too. And you can’t do that. You can only love one person. That’s the rule, and appa broke the rules.” “Why can’t you love two people?”

“If you love two people, then love is not special anymore. You only have one heart. That means you can only give your heart to one person.”

“But… I love you and appa…”

“No no… That’s a separate kind of love, baby. You can love as many people as you want with that love. The love that umma’s talking about is very different… You will learn when you get older, but with this love, you can love only one person.”

“Then… What happens when you love two people with that love?”

Junhyung blinked… “Then people get hurt. I was hurt. Appa chose to give his heart to someone else. That meant I wasn’t special to him anymore.”

“Why did appa do that?”

“That’s something that I would also like to know, Seobie. Sometimes people do things and we just don’t know why they do them. Appa made his choice, and now he and I must deal with the consequences of that choice… And it’s a very hard thing to do… But… it’ll get better… I promise… And I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier…”

Yoseob poked Junhyung on the nose. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t mean anything if you don’t say it with your heart.”

Junhyung threw his head back a little and laughed. So Yoseob does listen to him.

“But I do, Seobie. It’s just up to you to believe me.”

Yoseob teased his umma with a playful squint as he thought, but his decision came to him fairly quick.

“I believe you.”

Junhyung grinned, and Yoseob mirrored him. But then his small mouth popped into an “o” as if something bit him on the foot.

“Oh! I made you something when I went to Kikwang’s house!” Yoseob scrambled out of Junhyung’s warm lap and tore off for his room. He reappeared in seconds, a paper or flag of some kind flapping in the air…

No, it was just a piece of paper.

“Here!” Yoseob flung the paper in Junhyung’s open hands. Upon grasping it, the man’s eyes scanned the very colorful front. There were two human figures drawn. It was Yoseob and his umma. Junhyung and Yoseob were levitating in a blue sky. The yellow sun overlapped Junhyung’s very large head. Yoseob’s head was more elliptical. The tall green grass came up to the latter’s red shirt and to Junhyung’s very narrow waist. There was a heart between them both. A very big heart…

“This is beautiful, Seobie… Thank you.”

“Look at the back.”

Junhyung inhaled steadily… he flipped to the back of the sheet, where there was hesitant writing:

Junhyung’s visage suddenly felt swollen with heat. A comfortable, hot, rushing heat. That warmth infected the rest of his body… Anxiety fled. Anger fled. Sadness fled. Salt water pushed for entry behind his orbs, creating an unsettling pressure.

His heart had been touched by this colorful scratch of paper…

Junhyung stretched his arms for Yoseob and sat up.

“Come here, baby,” Junhyung choked. Yoseob fell into his umma’s arms. He felt them snap tightly around his little back. He was being squished, and usually he would tell Junhyung this. He couldn’t find a reason to now… a wondrous warmth it created. They hugged for a very, very long time. Junhyung could feel himself slowly attaining strength in all regions impaled by one hardship after the other after the other.

It was going to be alright.

♥

“I think you should make umma something pretty…” said Kikwang.

“A card?” Yoseob suggested. He liked making cards. He always made them for Doojoon. They were the main decorations in his office.

“A card sounds like a very good idea!”

Kikwang brought out art supplies he’d stocked up on just for Yoseob’s side visits and laid them out on the cocktail table in front of the boy. Yoseob naturally snatched up a piece of blank paper and helped himself to some markers.

Kikwang simply sat in the sofa chair and watched him work…

…It was there that he realized why Junhyung rose out of bed every morning. Or not so much "why", but how.