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Chapter 97

Through the tightly closed glass window, I could barely see into the newborn room.

Inside, babies whose genders were indistinguishable lay with puffy faces, eyes closed.

It was an inviolable zone where neither we, the outsiders, nor even family members could enter.

Uncle Dae-han, my sister’s husband, and I simply stared at the scene beyond the glass window of the nursery.

Escaping the filthy, malevolent world of the internet, my heart was cleansed at the sight of babies lying there, their cheeks puffed out as if they might burst like bubble wrap.

“Which one is your sister’s baby?”

“That one, the baby lying on that far bed.”

Uncle pointed with his finger at the crib deep inside the glass enclosure, responding to Siyeon’s question.

It was too far away to see the face, just a small shape inside the crib.

Contrary to Uncle Dae-han’s expectation of a daughter, it was a son.

But that didn’t seem to matter; his lips curved into a smile that seemed to reach his nose.

It wasn’t the 50s or 60s when strong son preference was prevalent; whether it was a son or a daughter, it didn’t make a difference. All that mattered was that it was his own child.

“What name did you choose?”

“Juwon, doesn’t it sound strange?”

“It’s fine, isn’t it?”

After hearing the name Juwon in response to the question about the name, I briefly considered what the surname might be before replying.

If following Dad’s surname, it would be Juwon? Not a strange name at all for a boy.

At least it wasn’t a name that would lead to a fight with parents over a name change when he reached middle or high school.

Not like a boy whose name coincided with some female celebrity’s name, or that strange name exuding an ancient charm.

Siyeon pressed close to the glass, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at the baby sleeping in the closest crib.

“So cute.”

“It’s indeed refreshing,” I mused.

As Siyeon said, those babies did bring a sense of cuteness.

Just watching them felt comfortable.

Contrary to the feelings of those watching, the nurses caring for the newborns on the other side of the glass moved around busily in masks, far from any sense of ease.

I wanted to poke those burst-worthy chubby cheeks with a finger, but that was impossible while in the nursery.

In about a year, they’d probably hold a first birthday party too?

Modern society is just filled with ways to bleed money, huh.

“Won’t your sister be able to see them today?”

“Probably not. I’m just grateful I could come.”

“She’ll be discharged soon, right?”

“That’s likely. I looked into postpartum care centers, but Ji-eun nearly fainted when she saw the costs.”

Mentioning the postpartum care center I had only heard about, Uncle stood with his hand on his straightened waist in disappointment, his head lowered slightly.

Upon seeing that, I discreetly searched for ‘postpartum care center costs’ online.

The first newspaper article that appeared showed titles with costs ranging from 3.8 million won for the two-week premium to 1.9 million won for the minimum.

“Those are some eye-popping prices.”

Swallowing hard at the unfair reality of such a price that couldn’t be easily borne, I quickly tapped the back button on my smartphone to return to the home screen.

Even if we took the minimum of 1.9 million won for two weeks, isn’t that about 130,000 to 140,000 won a day?

If that’s the minimum, then the average must be several hundred.

It’s a level that easily chips away at a full month’s salary for a working person.

Unable to just keep staring beyond the glass, as we prepared to leave, Uncle warmly smiled and escorted us out.

“Anyway, thanks for coming to see them today… And please play nicely with our Juwon later.”

“Sure!”

“Of course!”

Once the visit was over, I brightly answered and headed outside the hospital.

Back home, when I checked my messenger app, Ji-eun had texted, saying she’d call us over when the time was right to meet the baby.

Even amid the ongoing mysterious absence of monsters, we still had to go to school.

Life in fifth grade was more ordinary than during the lower grades.

“Are you not going to participate in dodgeball, Mari?”

“No.”

“Really, you’re not going?”

More than anything, compared to the lower grades where gender boundaries were vague, students in the fifth grade began to develop a sense of common knowledge, especially in sex education classes.

Boys who used to hang out well with girls started to play with boys, and girls began to play with girls.

Additionally, the teachers’ consideration for the female students increased significantly during this time.

During free time, boys played soccer while girls played dodgeball.

Even then, they had the sweet freedom to decide whether to participate.

Occasionally, they’d just pick up a ball far from the playground and toss it around.

Physical education classes, which were once agonizing, now felt like an extension of relaxation.

Fifth-grade math was slowly entering the realm of fraction calculations.

So far, the problems were easily solvable within common knowledge.

“I stopped caring about math from around middle school…”

Thinking back on that last memory concerning math in my previous life, I pondered when I could finally grasp it.

I knew my time of maintaining excellent grades with knowledge unbecoming of my age was coming to an end.

Remembering that there wasn’t much time left to be treated like an honor student, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, kicked my indoor shoes, and yawned as I headed home.

I no longer went home together with anyone.

I just gave Siyeon’s money from her bank, and she would go off to hang out with friends and eventually return home on her own.

“Are you not going to use Insta, Mari?”

A question came from the floor while I was fiddling with the computer.

Siyeon had recently been obsessed with a community called Insta.

It was a community where photos of glamorous lifestyles or special menu items from trendy eateries were often posted, mostly unrelated to anything tasty but rather just pretty or visually appealing.

Anyway, it was known as a community heavily frequented by women, and I had only heard the name before.

In response to Siyeon’s question, I honestly voiced my thoughts.

“That’s all fake.”

“Still, it looks pretty.”

Saying that, Siyeon scrolled down the page, scrolling and scrolling.

Some posts caught her attention as she pressed the like button diligently.

Maybe it felt like a guy looking at his favorite webtoon.

As I silently continued staring at the screen, I spotted photos taken a year ago in the U.S. being uploaded.

And the post was filled with text that seemed to be written as if they were still in the U.S.

“Such fake stuff.”

As I repeated the observation I had just blurted out, I couldn’t say anything about it and just watched.

It seemed Siyeon was also obsessed with having hearts in the community.

A few days later, the eagerly awaited meeting with Juwon began.

Though I knew about it, I had never been there in person before—the nest of the two people.

A rare venture on an infrequent village bus of seven stops.

Buildings that seemed to tower at least twenty stories grouped together in an apartment complex.

Wandering around looking for Building 201, we headed there upon seeing the prominently displayed “201” sign.

“What was the number again?”

Inside the common entrance was a neat hallway with lighting that exuded a pale orange luxury.

Siyeon paused at the intercom for room 201.

“What number was it…?”

Suddenly questioning from this side, I pulled out my smartphone to check the messenger app.

There, the number 601 was the most recent message.

“Oh, 601.”

Just as Siyeon obtained the right answer and reached for the intercom to press the numbers, a broad hand suddenly cut in from the side, silently presenting a small card that looked like a finger beside the intercom.

With a ding, the common entrance door opened innocently.

Feeling a bit awkward, we silently followed behind.

In the elevator, I pressed the sixth floor button, while the man in the same elevator pressed for the seventeenth.

The numbers slowly changed from 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, feeling the peculiar sensation of the elevator that abruptly came to a stop.

We stood before the entrance door.

The door opened smoothly, revealing room 601.

“There it is!”

“Ring the bell.”

Instead of the hesitating Siyeon, I pressed the doorbell button myself.

As per the default setting of the bell, the early piano notes of “For Elise” followed by the doorbell rang.

Not having heard that sound all the way to the end, it quickly cut off, and footsteps could be heard from within as the door opened.

To greet us was not Ji-eun, but Uncle.

He immediately pointed his finger to his lips as if to signal for quiet when he saw us.

Then, as if urging us to enter quickly, he gestured us inside.

“Welcome.”

Ji-eun greeted us in a whispering voice.

In the middle of the living room lay a small baby wrapped in a blanket, who was quite an impressive sight.

“Wash your hands. The bathroom is over there.”

After washing my hands with the sound of running water, we returned to the living room.

We gazed curiously as we directly welcomed the baby, who hadn’t even begun to babble yet.

Ji-eun lifted Juwon, blankets and all.

With wide-open eyes showing only a hint of black pupils, he looked at us as though he were in a daze.

“Hi there.”

In a strangely soothing tone meant to calm the baby, I cautiously extended my finger toward his tiny hand.

Feeling something enter his palm, the baby instinctively gripped it.

“Whoa? He’s smiling! He’s smiling!”

Then, his eyelids slowly lifted, and Juwon was completely grinning now.

What could possibly excite him so much, drooling from his mouth and showing his tiny tongue in an unassuming way, this one-month-old baby.


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