Melting Slow

“Chae Yeo-min. What are you doing here?” 

Nine-year-old Yeo-min, crouched in the corner of the garden, looked up stubbornly. Hwan was standing there, the setting sun at his back, holding three or four tangerines in his hand as he looked down at her with an indifferent expression. The first time she met him was a year and a half ago. He was said to be Chairman Yoo’s grandson, having lived abroad before finally coming to Korea. Back then, his name was Jace, and he wasn’t fluent in Korean. But now, he had a new name, Yoo Hwan, and he spoke Korean quite well.

Hwan came to this house often. Yeo-min heard that Chairman Yoo had pushed Hwan into visiting. It was because, as the chairman put it, his grandson was way too stiff, and he wanted him to soften up a bit by taking care of the kids. 

Not wanting to show herself crying in such an unsightly manner, Yeo-min buried her face in her knees. As she tried to hold back her tears, she could hear the rustle of grass as someone approached her. Pretending not to notice, she stayed still until the fresh scent of tangerines wafted over from beside her.

“They’re tasty.” 

“…….”

“Nari took your doll, didn’t she? That’s why you’re like this?” 

At Hwan’s casual question, Yeo-min finally lifted her bowed head. Not missing the opportunity, Hwan offered her half a tangerine. Yeo-min didn’t take it. Instead, she asked cautiously.

 “How did you know?” 

“You weren’t home, and your favorite doll was in her doll bag.” 

“…Nari cut my doll’s hair.” 

The doll Chae Nari took was the mermaid doll that her mom had given her as her last gift. It was only as small as her palm, but it was precious and meant more to her than anything. Yeo-min had fought with Chae Nari to get it back, but she only got scolded instead. They said it was because she, as an older sister, was greedy and never made any concessions.

So she came to the garden. In that big house, she felt lonely and sad, so she just slipped out. Hiding in a dark corner of the garden made her feel less lonely, even if she was alone.

“Have you been here since morning?”

“Yeah.” No one’s looking for me anyway.

“What about food?”

“I don’t know” 

Hwan held out the tangerine to Yeo-min again as she shook her head.

“At least eat this.”

“……”

“Don’t starve. You’re the only one who’ll suffer for it.” 

Only then did Yeo-min carefully take the tangerine. To be honest, her stomach had been growling for a while now. Looking up at the darkening sky, she ate the tangerine. The tangy juice burst in her mouth. Thinking about the doll that Chae-Nari took made her think of her mom again. Was her mom up there beyond the dark sky? It was so dark—was she scared?

I miss mom so much, but would she miss me too? Would she still be upset about what I said last time? If I could meet her again, I’d definitely apologize. My nose tingle. I chewed the tangerine and stared at the sky. After finishing half of it, Hwan handed me another piece.

“Eat more.”

“Hey… don’t you miss your mom?” 

He once told me his mom was in America. She was struggling, both physically and mentally, and it weighed on his mind that he had left her behind.

“Not really. I don’t miss her.”

“Why?”

“Because my mom hates me. She always tells me to die. She says she’ll die too, so I should die with her.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Hwan answered vaguely, his face expressionless. 

Yeo-Min watched him from the side. His face, calm and composed, didn’t look like that of a thirteen-year-old. He was different from the boys in her class who scribbled on erasers and threw them at each other. He was so cool that sometimes Yeo-min imagined marrying him.

“But still, I do worry sometimes. She might do something useless like trying to… die alone again.”

Hwan murmured as he looked up at the night sky. He didn’t continue, instead shaking his hands off and sitting up straight. 

Yeo-min blinked innocently. At nine years old, she was too young to understand the meaning of the shadow over Hwan’s face, but she could tell that he was sad. His eyes were dark, like they were sinking into a deep pool.

Hwan reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

“Here. I stole your doll back.”

What he handed over was Yeo-min’s doll, wrapped in a handkerchief. Yeo-min reached out in surprise, but Hwan shook his head.

“I’ll give it to you, but promise me.”

“Promise what?”

“That you won’t stop eating just because Nari’s bullying you.”

“…….”

“No one will worry about you if you starve. You’ll be the only one to suffer.”

Yeo-min pouted and nodded. For some reason, tears welled up and began to spill down her cheeks. She rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand, but Hwan kept speaking, his expression firm, not caring whether she cried or not.

“Did you do your homework?”

“Not yet.”

“Finish it when you go back inside.”

“…Okay.”

“Are you good at studying?”

“No.”

“Try to get good at it. Do everything with effort, more than Nari does. You have to.”

“Okay.”

Yeomin nodded vigorously. She didn’t fully understand what Hwan meant by his advice, but she took his words to heart.

Only then did Hwan hand over the doll. Yeo-min held the doll he gave her tightly, hugging it to her chest. She was determined not to lose it again. 

Hwan began to pat Yeo-min’s back gently as she tried to hold back her tears.

“Hide it well so Nari can’t find it. I won’t be able to get it back for you if it’s taken again.”

“Okay, oppa.”

“The same goes for everything else. Stay sharp and protect it yourself.”

“Got it.” Yeomin replied, her voice shaky as she tried to hold back her sobs. Hwan’s hand landed on top of her head, giving her a rough but comforting pat as he spoke calmly.

“But, it’s not your fault.”

“…….”

“It’s the one who takes who’s at fault, not you, Yeo-min.”

Huuu-. Only then did Yeo-min start to cry out loud. The sorrow and sadness she had been holding back burst forth all at once at Hwan’s brief reassurance. Hwan opened his arms.

“Come here, crybaby.”

Yeo-min settled into the familiar embrace of the boy, squirming a little as she tried to swallow her tears. But even so, they kept falling, drop by drop.

“Chae Yeo-min, I hugged you so you’d stop crying—why are you crying even more?”

“I don’t know. When you hug me, I feel sad… but even though I’m sad, I still want you to keep hugging me.” 

Rubbing her eyes against Hwan’s shoulder, Yeo-min hurriedly added, afraid his comforting touch would stop. Hwan slipped his arms under her armpits and lifted her up effortlessly. Then, holding her close, he began patting her back. The big sixth grader, who could easily be mistaken for a middle schooler, held the nine-year-old Yeo-min, who was smaller than most kids her age, like she was his youngest sibling.

Yeo-min clung to Hwan’s collar, lifting her head. The tears had already dried, leaving only hiccups that made her chest jump. 

“What do you do when you feel like crying, oppa? Does someone hug you?”

“No. I don’t need anyone.” Hwan shook his head as he wiped away Yeo-min’s tears.

“Why? Are you okay without hugs now?”

“Yeah. I’ve grown up now. I’m almost an adult.”

Hwan responded as if he were showing off. 

Yeo-min nodded as she held tightly to his clothes. 

“…I see. You’re so cool, oppa.”

He’s all grown up now. Does everyone become as smart and cool as him when they turn thirteen? Will everything be better if I can just endure until then? Will I be able to stop crying even if Nari takes my things?

To nine-year-old Yeo-min, thirteen-year-old Hwan seemed like a mountain. Back then, she didn’t realize that he too was still a young boy, who could crumble under the weight of his own sadness. If she had known, she would have spread her arms wide to pull that lonely neck into a hug.

***  

‘It’s not your fault.’

Yeo-min’s closed eyelids fluttered slightly. In her dream, someone’s voice drifted like an echo.

‘It’s the one who takes who’s at fault, not you, Yeo-min.’

Yeo-min mumbled faintly, almost entranced. 

“It’s not my fault, right? It’s really not my fault, right?” Losing everything to Chae-Nari. Even losing her boyfriend stupidly—it wasn’t her fault, was it?

With a soft sigh, Yeo-min slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was still blurry with sleep. She blinked her heavy eyelids for a while, watching as her hazy sight gradually sharpened. It had been a long time since she dreamt of her childhood. Instead of the usual nightmares of losing things and feeling helpless, it was a gentle, bittersweet dream. The kind where Yoo Hwan, her only ally during childhood, appeared.

After staring blankly at the ceiling for a few minutes, Yeo-min slowly sat up.

“Team Leader treated me really well when I was young.”

And yet, when they met again as adults, all she did was rush in and propose a fake marriage. This must be why people say not to take in ungrateful creatures. A wry smile crossed her face.

Yeo-min occasionally thought back to the boy that Hwan used to be and the words he had said to her, piece by piece. It wasn’t until she grew up that she could fully grasp the meaning behind them—like when he spoke about his biological mother, who said she hated him.

The death of his half-sister and father, the harsh circumstances that brought him into Chairman Yoo’s home. 

That one time, the way his face would turn pale, his breath caught whenever he heard the sound of sirens. 

‘Stay sharp and protect it yourself.’

The words he said to nine-year-old Chae Yeo-min may have been words that Yoo Hwan was repeating to himself. 

After washing her face, Yeo-min wiped her wet face with a towel. In the mirror stood Chae Yeo-min, now twenty-seven years old. 

If I, as I am now, had met thirteen-year-old Hwan… If I had, I could have comforted him too. I could have hugged the back of the boy whom no one else ever embraced, just once.

“Even if it’s just as a fake wife, I should still do my best.” 

With renewed determination, Yeo-min left the bathroom.

***

Yeo-min bowed slightly to the planning team executive as she exited the meeting room. 

“I’ll pass the summary to Deputy Manager Jung from the planning team as soon as I get back.”

“Alright, Deputy Chae. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Yes, thank you, Manager.”

The meeting ended up being longer than expected. This was because the Planning Team’s Assistant Manager Shin, who was supposed to explain the key issues, was hospitalized with acute appendicitis.

‘Dragging someone who just had surgery onto a video call for a meeting… that was a bit too much, wasn’t it…?’

The company’s insistence on holding the meeting no matter what, and Assistant Manager Shin’s perseverance in joining despite looking half-dead, were both impressive in their own ways.

“Assistant Manager Shin looked really unwell…”

Yeo-min muttered to herself, and someone responded nonchalantly.

“Yeah. Shin said it was all about a father’s fighting spirit.”

Startled, Yeo-min looked up to her side. Walking casually at her pace was Yoo Hwan.

“You scared me.”

“Why?”

“You appeared right next to me out of nowhere.”

“More surprising than the person who glared at me and demanded we get married out of the blue?”

Yeo-min was at a loss for words. Hwan showed no reaction to her flustered expression, as if her silence was of no concern to him. Yeo-min took a right turn at the corner. She was planning to return to the office and go to the company cafeteria with her team members.

“Well then, enjoy your meal, Team Leader.”

However, before she could finish her farewell, her shoulder was grabbed. Hwan pulled her around, and before she knew it, she was standing in front of the elevator. Yeo-min watched from the corner of her eye as Hwan pressed the down button.

Does he have something to discuss in private? Yeo-min, still unsure of what was going on, obediently got on the elevator and ended up in the passenger seat of his car on basement level 3. It wasn’t until he started the engine that she finally asked, belatedly.

“Is there something we need to do together?”

“We’re having lunch together.”

“I see.”

Yeo-min answered calmly, though she was honestly quite surprised.

Hwan rarely ate with his team members. He didn’t use the company cafeteria either. He had built a wall around himself, and the team members, aware that he was ‘Chairman Yoo’s grandson’ found it difficult to approach him casually. Yeo-min felt similarly. Except for occasions where there was a specific purpose, like the time she had proposed to him, she and Hwan were rarely alone together.

“Chae Yeo-min, you still don’t seem to realize you proposed to me.”