The rain pelts down heavily on the sidewalk as people scurry around frantically, polished black shoes and three-inch heels hitting the asphalt in an unending blur as people dodge under nearby shelter or dash into the train station to seek cover.

But Jinhwan runs in the opposite direction: out of the train station and straight onto the streets, black converses getting soaked by the puddles and clothes getting drenched by the rain because he was in such a rush in the morning that he forgot to pack his umbrella. His only saving grace is his blue beanie, tugged over his head of black hair and leaving only his fringe peeking out the front to get matted against his forehead by a mixture of sweat and rainwater. It’s six in the evening and he’s late, so late, but he was stuck in class till five and he missed the first train, so all he can do now is sprint in the rain and fight down the guilt and worry eating away at his gut. I’m coming, I’m coming, just a little while longer.

When Jinhwan finally rounds the corner panting and out of breath, he sees the light of the ground floor of the building still on and immediately runs towards it. He knows he must look ridiculous, soaked from head to toe with a desperate worry in his eyes, but when he sees the small lone figure sitting on the wooden ground and pushing around a tiny blue toy train, he can’t help the guilt that threatens to choke him because I made him wait for me again, for so long.

Jinhwan’s just about to knock rapidly on the locked glass door when he sees the kindergarten’s head teacher making her way down the stairs. She notices him immediately and heads straight for the door, causing the little boy on the ground to look up and turn around. The minute the door is unlocked, Jinhwan drops to his knees just as a blur of dark brown hair and yellow socks leaps into his arms, toy train gripped tightly in one hand even as he buries his head into Jinhwan’s neck and clings on as though he will never let go.

Jinhwan carries the boy tightly to his chest as he gets to his feet and bows deeply in apology and gratitude to the teacher. The kindergarten head teacher, a warm and motherly lady called Mrs Kwon, smiles a small smile in response to Jinhwan, and the tinge of sadness and sympathy that enters her eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by Jinhwan as she takes in his state and the little boy in his arms. She reaches out a hand to smooth down the boy’s hair, which only causes him to borrow further into the crook of Jinhwan’s neck. The guilt sears through Jinhwan’s body again.

“Yunhyeong was so afraid you weren’t coming. I tried contacting you, but - ”

“I’m sorry,” Jinhwan splutters out, and he’s not even sure if he’s directing his apology at his four year-old son or his teacher. “My phone died, and I was stuck in class - ”

“Yunhyeong-ah,” Mrs Kwon interrupts him gently and tries to address the little boy. “Why don’t you grab your bag from the cubby hole and take your coat from the rack first?”

Yunhyeong doesn’t want to leave Jinhwan’s arms at first, but Jinhwan squats and convinces him to get his things with a quick kiss to his forehead. Once Yunhyeong starts for the other end of the room, Mrs Kwon levels Jinhwan with a serious yet kind look.

“Jinhwan, are you sure you’re managing okay? This isn’t the first time you’ve been late in picking Yunhyeong up - ”

“I know, I know, and I’m so sorry I keep making you stay overtime to wait with him - ”

The kindness in Mrs Kwon’s eyes grows more obvious, but so does the sympathy. “It’s all right, Jinhwan. You know I don’t mind waiting with him. He’s such a good kid; you’ve done so well bringing him up all this while, especially considering your circumstances. But I just wanted to know about your long-term plans. What’s going to happen when Yunhyeong finishes with kindergarten and starts primary school? The fees are going to go up, and it’s definitely going to be harder for you to manage, and I’m worried for Yunhyeong, too. Have you considered any alternatives? Perhaps relatives - ”

Jinhwan knows she wants to say more, but at that moment Yunhyeong returns, bag in one hand and coat in the other. Jinhwan smiles fondly at him, getting down on one knee to help put his red coat on and slip the straps of his backpack onto his shoulders. When he gets back up, he sees Mrs Kwon holding out an umbrella for him, and he’s so thankful for small blessings like these, that Yunhyeong got a teacher who cared so much about him and his well-being.

Jinhwan takes Yunhyeong’s small hand in his and bows once more to Mrs Kwon. “Thank you, for everything.”

Mrs Kwon sighs. “Jinhwan - ”

“I - I understand your concerns, Mrs Kwon, and I appreciate the fact that you care about Yunhyeong, about us, but you don’t have to worry. Yunhyeong’s the only thing that matters in my life, and we’ll get by as we always have been.”

With one last bow, Jinhwan opens up the flap of his coat and tucks Yunhyeong inside, wrapping one arm around him while the other opens up the umbrella and they begin their walk back to the train station. With the rain falling relentlessly onto the umbrella and Yunhyeong curled against his leg shivering, all Jinhwan can do is hold Yunhyeong as tight as possible while blinking back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.

-

By the time Jinhwan and Yunhyeong make it back to their small, two-roomed apartment, it’s almost eight in the evening and Jinhwan feels the exhaustion settling in his bones and fogging up his mind. He’s cold and he’s wet and he’s tired and he’s hungry, but then he remembers that he has Yunhyeong to take care of, and the exhaustion is forgotten.

“Let’s go take a shower first, okay Yunhyeongie?”

Yunhyeong nods and starts obediently for the bathroom as Jinhwan arranges their shoes and hangs up their coats. He takes in the wet and dirty state of Yunhyeong’s shoes and how his coat is fraying at the edges and wishes more than anything that he could spoil him with new things.

But he can’t, not now. Not when staying in this house and putting food on the table everyday are real concerns for Jinhwan.

“Appa,” Yunhyeong starts, a little while later when Jinhwan is towelling him dry.

“Yes, Yunhyeongie?”

Yunhyeong’s voice comes out tentative and muffled. “Are you leaving tonight?”

Jinhwan’s hands still. Slowly, he pushes back the towel to see his son’s face, and his heart breaks at the sight of Yunhyeong’s downcast expression. Jinhwan gently brushes Yunhyeong’s hair back away from his eyes and presses a kiss to the crown of his head, trying to convey with that one simple gesture all the things he can’t yet say to his four year-old, of how sorry he is and how much he loves him and how he deserves so much more than what Jinhwan can give him.

“No, Yunhyeongie. Appa’s not going anywhere tonight, okay?”

The way Yunhyeong’s eyes light up and the way his lips curl into a small, happy smile cause Jinhwan’s eyes to prickle with tears.

“Go get dressed, okay?” Jinhwan instructs Yunhyeong as he leads him out of the bathroom.

“Okay,” Yunhyeong beams back. Jinhwan watches him run into his room and thinks, I love you so much it hurts.

Jinhwan walks into the kitchen and pulls out a pot and a packet of ramyun like clockwork because their dinners rarely change, anyway: all Jinhwan can really afford is ramyun. On their better nights he tries to give Yunhyeong something different, like kimchi jjigae, and Jinhwan still remembers feeling so horribly guilty when Yunhyeong had taken a bite and smiled at him so brightly, saying it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. Jinhwan still remembers how much he had wanted to give Yunhyeong all of the best foods possible, how much he had wanted to indulge Yunhyeong with all the snacks and treats he wanted but could never have.

“Appa.”

Jinhwan snaps out of his daze and smiles when he sees Yunhyeong hovering at the entrance to the kitchen, all dressed and with his favourite blue toy train clutched in his right hand. Yunhyeong giggles bright and young when Jinhwan snatches him up and seats him on the high chair at the kitchen island before placing his ramyun in front of him. Yunhyeong doesn’t complain: he never does, in fact. Instead he seems so happy on this night, relaying stories from his day at school to Jinhwan excitedly as Jinhwan makes sure he eats everything in the bowl because sometimes Yunhyeong looks so skinny and pale that it scares Jinhwan to no end.

Yunhyeong finishes the bowl faster than Jinhwan had expected (probably because he was so hungry, Jinhwan thinks and immediately regrets thinking after), and Jinhwan looks at his son in worry. “Yunhyeong-ah, are you full?”

Yunhyeong nods, and Jinhwan smiles a little when he sees that his son’s eyelids are beginning to droop. In one quick motion, Jinhwan scoops Yunhyeong up into his arms. “Bedtime for the little rascal.”

Yunhyeong whines in protest, but Jinhwan just laughs as he carries Yunhyeong to his room and tucks him under the covers. Jinhwan smoothes Yunhyeong’s hair away from his eyes and leans down to press a chaste kiss to his temple. Before he can go, however, Yunhyeong’s voice stops him.

“Appa.”

“Yes, Yunhyeongie?”

“Can you sing for me?”

Yunhyeong looks so small and infinitely precious like this, tuft of messy hair and eyes peeking out beneath the covers as he looks at Jinhwan in earnest. Of course, Jinhwan complies, padding back over to the bed and sitting on the edge of the covers because his clothes are still wet and he doesn’t want Yunhyeong’s blankets to be damp. Yunhyeong closes his eyes and then Jinhwan sings softly, recalling the lullaby he knows by heart, the one about the stars in the night sky and the galaxies beyond that his mother used to sing to him back when he was Yunhyeong’s age in their small home in Jeju. By the time Jinhwan finishes the lullaby, Yunhyeong is already fast asleep. With one last kiss to his son’s forehead, Jinhwan mumbles an I love you into the quiet of the night in his son’s tiny bedroom before finally heading back outside to take care of himself.

-