Our Very Own Jae-gyeom

Ji-su felt the heat climb up the back of her neck at Jae-gyeom's unbridled displays of affection. For some reason it left her flustered, and all she could manage was an awkward little cough. Every time he expressed his love more blatantly than she did—sometimes with startling, effortless ease—she found herself realizing, Ah, this boy really did grow up in America.

"Ahem. I'm going to bed. Ugh, I'm so tired. Good night, Yoon Jae-gyeom."

― "Oh, come on... We only talked about kissing a little, and you get this awkward? What happens if we ever talk about sex—won't Im Ji-su faint dead away?"

"Am not! And, um, over the phone, huh? Like there'd ever be a reason to talk about that kind of thing over the phone!"

― "Gyechon may be a conservative little town, but I never knew the Pride of Gyechon herself would be this conservative. There's nothing you can't do over the phone. Want to try it? Right now?"

"What?"

A moment ago only the back of her neck had been warm; now her face felt like it was about to burst into flames. What on earth did he mean—why, what, and how exactly did he intend to do that over the phone, out of nowhere? Pretending to be innocent was pointless: the low voice and faintly ragged breathing drifting through the receiver made it plain enough what he had in mind, and Ji-su burned with embarrassment. She had to stop him before he actually went and did something.

"Yoon Jae-gyeom. Please, stop teasing me already..."

― "Fine. That's enough for tonight."

With that hearty laugh, her boyfriend graciously granted her clemency, and Ji-su finally let herself relax. They said their goodbyes—he would catch the dawn train the day after tomorrow, so they'd meet then—and hung up.

Of course they would call again tomorrow. But with every passing day, the two of them were learning the same lesson: a long-distance call could only ever end with both of them aching for the day they would next meet.

The next afternoon, Ji-su stepped off the bus and stood rooted to the spot, too stunned to make a sound. Only after Jae-gyeom came toward her smiling and swept her into a crushing embrace did her tongue finally loosen, as though she'd woken from a spell.

"Why are you here?"

"Came to pick you up."

"Pick me up? Don't tell me you came all the way up here from Gyechon just to ride back down with me tomorrow?"

"Ji-su. I'd like to ask my questions first. Is interview prep really this brutal? What have you been doing to yourself that you're as limp as a balloon doll with all the air let out of it? Aigoo, you poor thing. And in this exhausted state, you were planning to stand on a packed train for hours tomorrow all the way down to Gyechon. Good thing I came to get you."

Come to think of it, she had wondered why he kept asking which bus stop she would be getting off at. But it had never once crossed her mind that the question was being asked because he was already there, waiting for her. Ji-su couldn't wipe the astonishment from her face as she stared at him, and Jae-gyeom lifted the heavy shoulder bag off her arm and asked,

"And why is your bag so heavy again? Should I carry you home on my back?"

"What?"

"Or in my arms?"

"Seriously, what is with you?"

She knew he meant every word—that seeing how worn out she looked, he genuinely wanted to carry her home—so Ji-su answered by simply lacing her fingers through his, and they started the slow walk toward her place.

The same thought struck them both at once—that they looked just like newlyweds walking home from work together—but neither of them said it out loud. Framed by the evening sunset, Jae-gyeom and Ji-su walking side by side suited each other remarkably well.

It was inevitable that sparks flew the moment they reached her studio apartment after the ten-minute walk. During their nightly calls before bed, Jae-gyeom had made a habit of telling Ji-su to take responsibility for him, saying, "Your voice is honey-sweet, the way you talk sets my skin tingling, and wanting to touch you, to reach you, has been my constant torment."

"Responsibility?"

"Before I met you, I slept just fine on my own. Now I can't."

"What does that even—"

Before she had the chance to protest her innocence, his lips covered hers. As if the feverish, sleepless nights were somehow Ji-su's doing, Jae-gyeom drove her relentlessly until dawn the next morning.

That same dawn, while one beautiful couple made an early start for Gyechon in Jae-gyeom's car, at Seoul Station Young-baek and his mother were in the throes of a tearful farewell. It was a trip of just one night and two days—to win back Ji-su's heart and apologize to her mother—yet the mood was as heavy as if he were shipping off for military service.

The notion that turning up unannounced might be discourteous had simply never existed in these two people's world.

"Mom. Can't you come with me? Come with me and apologize together. Honestly, I'm not confident. You didn't see Im Ji-su's face that day, Mom. She was terrifying. She was literally swinging a trash bag at me, putting on a whole show!"

"I barely managed to get my hands on one train ticket, and only at a markup. There are no tickets—how on earth would I get there, son? Besides, sweet-talking Ji-su and her mother is something our Young-baek can do. You can do this! And later, Mom will give Ji-su a scolding that'll have her crying her eyes out. Don't you worry. Okay?"

"Then you go instead of me! You can go talk to Im Ji-su and her mother yourself. I don't want to go there!"

Determined that her son should go win Ji-su back even if it meant walking straight into her hometown, Young-baek's mother resolved to send him down to Gyechon. It felt like a lioness shoving her cub off a cliff, and her heart nearly gave out—still, she buckled down and firmly steeled her whimpering son.

"Young-baek. Grandpa's inheritance! Don't you forget it! He said he'll only pass it down if you bring home a granddaughter-in-law from Hankuk University, right? Hmm? So Ji-su leaves something to be desired in a lot of ways—if you go see her, she'll be moved by your sincerity all over again. Tell her you didn't even take an easy taxi ride; you hunted down a train ticket and came all this way. She might just weep with emotion."

"Whyyy. I really hate Gyechon-ri. The internet there is so slow! Taxi apps don't work, and the buses are ridiculously infrequent! I can't even come up to Seoul whenever I feel like it!"

"Which is exactly why! Exactly why you have to go, son! You said it yourself—it's a hick town. Just go down there first. Get there and throw yourself into it. Would they really turn you away at the door when there's nowhere decent to sleep and no train tickets to be had? Spend one night under that roof and radiate your charm! Something tells me, son, Ji-su's mother is going to absolutely adore you."

"...But she will let me stay the night, right? I do have the kind of face the middle-aged ladies love, you know. No sharp angles anywhere. And my build has a certain warmth to it."

In truth, the day they'd received the formal breakup notice from Ji-su, the wounded pair had gone straight from there to a matchmaking agency for a consultation.

When they requested a match of "a woman in her twenties, enrolled at Hankuk University or graduated within the last five years, no taller than 165 centimeters, petite yet glamorous," the matchmaking consultant returned the request with a courteous smile and a polite refusal: membership would be difficult for them.

It was an outing that left both of them with the bitter, bone-deep realization of just one thing: winning back Im Ji-su's heart was the only realistic option left.

"Young-baek. This time, go tell Ji-su's mother outright that you're getting married before the winter is out. Fighting, my son!"

"Okay, Mom. I'm off."

To reclaim Ji-su, Young-baek set his grand, sweeping stride toward Gyechon—the hick town he so despised.

Thanks to their early start in Jae-gyeom's car, the two of them reached Gyechon before lunchtime. The persimmon tree in Ji-su's front yard had quietly laden itself with clusters of fruit, heralding the deepening of autumn. Ji-su's mother, busy preparing the holiday food, lit up at the sight of Jae-gyeom walking into the house with his arms full.

"Oh my! What in the world! Our Jae-gyeom is here! You never said a word about coming! What's the occasion?"

"Mom. I'm your daughter. Am I invisible?"

"If you were coming with Jae-gyeom, you still should have called ahead! Think how happy he'd be if I'd had his favorites ready in advance. Should I run down to the market in town right now? What would you like to eat, our Jae-gyeom? Hmm?"

Her mother had no way of knowing that Jae-gyeom ran a repair shop right there in town; assuming he had driven down from Seoul with them, she was all the more carried away by her delight. She was half right—Jae-gyeom had indeed brought Ji-su along—and half wrong, but the atmosphere hardly suited setting the record straight.

Somehow she went on and on, chattering about how she'd wanted to make more food than usual this time, and about how the holiday cooking alone normally left her no time for cleaning—yet somehow today she'd had the urge to tidy the house first, so she'd scrubbed it all yesterday. And since when had he become "our Jae-gyeom"? She had laid eyes on him exactly twice.

For his part, Jae-gyeom washed his hands like a true son-in-law and stepped straight into the kitchen.

"Mother, what should I do?"

"Goodness! And what could you possibly do! There's jeon—savory pancakes—I fried up earlier; eat that and watch some TV. Go lie right down on that sofa! You did bring a change of clothes, didn't you? Change into something comfortable. Hmm?"

"No, Mother. Please put me to work. I've lived on my own since high school, so I cook well. I hold my mother's memorial rites by myself every year, simply. I can manage the seasoned greens and the jeon."

Mother's high, cheerful voice dropped an entire register in an instant.

"You make memorial food all by yourself? That breaks my heart. Jae-gyeom, you remarkable boy. I thought my daughter was the only one raised on hardship, but your hardships make hers look like nothing. From now on, when you come to this house, don't lay a finger on so much as a single drop of water."

"Mother, I truly am fine, so work me to the bone. If anything, it's easier on you if I do it while I'm here. And besides, the three of us have somewhere to go today, remember? So put me to work right now, and let's get all of this finished quickly."

"Go where, exactly? We? Jae-gyeom, my daughter, and me?"

Instead of answering, Jae-gyeom gave her a meaningful smile.