The Only One

"The place is just like that, I'm afraid. This neighborhood is on the cheaper side, but rental listings have been so scarce lately. At 1.6 million won for a unit in this condition, it's not even that expensive."

"Ah... I guess rent has gone up a lot."

Yeon-jae had just come from looking at a few listings at a real estate office in the neighborhood where she used to live. The ones she'd seen online had looked reasonably decent, but once she actually arrived, either they weren't available or they didn't match what she'd seen.

"That, and it's three bedrooms, you know. The price is a lot different from a studio you were living in alone!"

"I see."

"If you want something cheaper than this, there are two-bedrooms, or smaller floor plans."

The agent went on, glancing sideways at Yeon-jae's face.

"Or if you don't mind an older building, there are those too, young mother."

"I think that's enough for today. Ji-woo, shall we go?"

"Alright, then."

Yeon-jae took Ji-woo's hand and left the real estate office.

The sun had still been up when they'd arrived, but it was already sinking. Ji-woo kept rubbing his eyes; he looked worn out from trailing around looking at houses with her. When Yeon-jae glanced down, the time that met her eyes was past eight o'clock.

She'd meant to look at just a few places. One had become two, then more, and they'd ended up staying over two hours. Remembering they had about an hour and a half until the train, Yeon-jae took the child's hand.

"Shall we head back to the station for now? You're pretty tired, aren't you, Ji-woo?"

"Mm, a little?"

Yeon-jae was proud of him for not fussing, even though he had every right to be exhausted.

It was when the two of them reached the subway station.

A stretch of street stalls lined the plaza out front. As they passed, the smell of food drifted to their noses, and Ji-woo's head turned of its own accord.

"Mom. Ji-woo's hungry."

The child stopped dead in his tracks and pointed at one of the stalls. It was a snack stand.

"Can we eat that before we go?"

"Spicy rice cakes? Shall we?"

Yeon-jae was hungry herself, having gone all day on an empty stomach. Ji-woo beamed and tugged her hand into the stall.

"Ji-woo, we'll have to eat standing up. Is that okay?"

"Yeah! It's okay!"

Before long, spicy rice cakes, fried snacks well-tossed in sauce, and Korean sausage were set down in front of them. A spark of life returned to Ji-woo's eyes, which had been blinking as if he might drop off any second.

"Hah, it's so good. It's hot."

"Blow on it first. Let's eat slowly."

It was so good that red sauce was smeared around the child's mouth. Color quickly came back into his face. Even as Yeon-jae wiped it away, her mind was in turmoil.

Will I even be able to find a place?

The monthly rent she paid in Daejeon and the rent in Seoul were worlds apart. Of course, part of that was because she'd been looking at two- and three-bedroom units. But the gap between Daejeon's cost of living and Seoul's was enormous. 1.4 to 1.6 million won a month. It wasn't a sum Yeon-jae could actually afford on her part-time wages. And she couldn't very well live in a studio with a child, either. She tried not to let it show in front of him, but the worry came rushing in all the same.

"Is it good for you too, Mom?"

"Yeah. I must've been hungry too — it's going down easy."

"Heh. Good thing we ate."

Yeon-jae smiled warmly and brushed the child's hair back. Sweat had beaded on his forehead, maybe from the spice.

"Ji-woo, are you hot?"

"Mm, a little bit hot, I think."

"Is that so?"

It wasn't that warm a day.

The two of them, having cleaned their plates, stepped out of the stall. After the sun had gone down, the autumn wind blowing in was quite cool. They went down into the subway station and were walking toward the turnstiles.

"Mom. Ji-woo needs the bathroom."

Ji-woo, who had been holding Yeon-jae's hand, hurriedly looked around. There was a restroom not far off. From inside the stall he had gone into came the sound of retching, and Yeon-jae startled.

"Ji-woo?"

"Uweeh—"

Yeon-jae yanked the door open and found the child clutching the toilet, emptying his stomach. Her eyes flew wide. She went to him at once, kneeling to look him over. The face that had had color in it just moments ago was now as pale as the white bathroom walls.

"Ji-woo, what's wrong?"

"Mom, Ji-woo's tummy... uugh."

The food he'd just eaten came back up, completely undigested.

"Uweeeh—"

As Yeon-jae patted the child's back, the white t-shirt he was wearing was soaked through. Only then did the image of him with beads of sweat on his forehead while eating come back to her. It hadn't been the spice. He'd already been unwell from then.

"Mom, Ji-woo... it hurts."

She brought him out to the sink and wiped the vomit from around his mouth. After emptying his stomach again and again, large tears had gathered at the corners of his eyes.

"Oh my, the little one must be sick. Has he been throwing up this whole time?"

"Yes. He just suddenly started."

A woman washing her hands at the neighboring sink had spoken up.

"There's an ER nearby. There'll be a pediatrics department, so take him there. The baby's face is white as a sheet. Let me think, what was the name — that really big hospital?"

"I know where it is. Thank you, ma'am."

"Yes, yes. Hurry along now."

Yeon-jae could picture the hospital the woman meant. She lifted Ji-woo into her arms. He'd grown too big to carry easily, but she didn't have the luxury of thinking about that.

Because the nearby ER was a regional emergency medical center, they had to wait a long time even after checking in. The child kept going back and forth to the bathroom, and just when the endless waiting had worn them down, Ji-woo was finally assigned a bed.

Yeon-jae let out a ragged breath.

When they'd first arrived, he hadn't been able to leave the bathroom at all. Ji-woo, who had thrown up everything he'd eaten — even yellow bile. What if it was something serious. What if something happened to him like this. Yeon-jae's insides burned with dread.

But once the IV fluids and the anti-nausea medication went in, Ji-woo broke out in a cold sweat and fell asleep. Only then, looking at the child sleeping soundly, did she press a hand to her chest in relief.

Had it been the spicy rice cakes from the street stall that evening?

"...We should've just gone straight home."

Why had she pushed it, dragging the child around. A wave of self-reproach crashed over her, and Yeon-jae covered her face with her hands. Once the thoughts started, they wouldn't stop tormenting her.

Every day of raising a child alone had been a war. She would work her part-time job, come home to take care of him, then finish the leftover housework. And through it all, Yeon-jae never had a moment to be sick herself. She was always so tense that she barely even felt pain.

But when the child was sick like this, she couldn't get a grip on anything. Her own body hurting and her child hurting were two entirely different things. Ji-woo was the one who was ill, but watching from beside him, Yeon-jae felt as if she had walked all the way to the gates of hell and back.

"Ji-woo suffered because of Mom."

Yeon-jae was brushing back the child's tangled hair when the curtain opened and a doctor came in to check the IV. About a quarter of the fluid remained.

"Ji-woo has acute gastroenteritis. The medication's gone in, and once he takes the prescribed medicine he'll be fine soon."

"Ah. Yes."

She'd suspected it was gastroenteritis, and it seemed that was indeed the case.

"His creatinine is a bit high, probably from dehydration, so we'll discharge him once the IV is finished."

"Thank you."

The doctor adjusted the drip to run faster, said goodbye, and left. Only after he was gone did Yeon-jae sink onto the folding chair.

Was it a relief that it wasn't anything more serious? She rubbed her face, then picked up the phone she'd set beside her.

The last train had been around 11:30, so if they left now there wouldn't even be a train. Now that she'd confirmed Ji-woo was alright, the next steps loomed, overwhelming. Should she take a taxi with a sick child. Or should she book a nearby lodging. None of the options was a good one.

On a faint hope, Yeon-jae opened her phone and looked through her contacts. There were so few numbers. As she scrolled, a shadow fell across her face.

"...There's no one."

Even if she wanted to ask for help, there was no one she could turn to. A loneliness seeping into her chest. A heavy, tangled heart. Yeon-jae pressed her fingers to her forehead.

A man flickered through her mind. Without meaning to, she thought of Je-heon, then immediately shook her head. Why was that man coming to mind at a moment like this. Yeon-jae just bit her lip.

At that moment, the phone in her hand began to ring.

At the name saved in her phone, Yeon-jae's chest went tight. She had thought of him, and as if by magic, the call had come. After the briefest hesitation, she pressed the button.

She'd known a message from Je-heon had come in when they arrived at the ER. She just hadn't had a moment to check it.

Why did the dissatisfied voice coming through the receiver feel so welcome. Little by little, the corners of Yeon-jae's eyes grew hot.

"........Gu Je-heon."

The voice that scattered from her parted lips trembled, unsteady.

And the tears that had been hanging by a thread spilled over.