I tied my hair up with a hair tie rolling around on the desk.
My scalp is pulling like crazy.
When I let it down a bit, it feels a little better.
I turned my head and looked at the mirror.
My hair, not neatly tied, has random strands sticking out everywhere.
Even though it’s the smallest size, my limbs are still visible, making the pajama pants folded and sewn together stand out.
I don’t know how to sew.
Who did this for me?
I still don’t know.
Shaking my head, I stepped out of the room.
Instead of the stone pot from earlier, I noticed a little bowl filled with slightly cooled miso stew.
“Let’s eat quickly. We have so much to do.”
“Sure.”
I walked quickly to the table and sat down, seeing three ice cubes float in lukewarm barley tea.
The cup is cold, but I feel warm inside as I took a sip of the tea to rinse my mouth.
I picked up my spoon.
No need for chopsticks.
Dad already cut everything into bite-sized pieces.
“Hehe.”
Quietly laughing, I started moving my spoon.
A scoop of warm rice.
A spoonful of miso stew at just the right temperature.
A piece of potato on the side.
A chunk of meat.
“To be honest… I think Dad’s miso stew is way better than Mom’s…”
“Right? Only people who can eat know this. Hehe!”
Once again, a rough hand ruffled my hair.
Feeling it completely, I ate the real salty miso stew.
It was peaceful.
So happy.
I barely finished two spoonfuls of the very bland miso stew.
One spoonful of soupy rice.
Chewing and swallowing the undercooked potato.
The greasy cheap meat was swallowed down without much chewing.
“Mmm… So what are we doing for this anniversary?”
“This time is exactly the 20-year mark, so I’ve saved up some money.”
“…Wasn’t that the money you secretly saved and got caught by Mom?”
“Caught? She just got mad out of nowhere.”
As if recalling that moment, Dad, with a warm, playful smile, continued talking while sipping lukewarm barley tea.
“Anyway, I want to get you a ring this time.”
“Ah… a ring.”
“Yeah. You don’t have a single one. So I thought I’d get one for Mom, me, and you.”
“…Me too?”
“What? You don’t want to?”
Dad’s right eyebrow shot up.
“Ah, no… It’s not that I don’t want to… but wouldn’t it be better for just you and Mom?”
“Why do you want to exclude yourself?”
“Well…”
The urge to say it’s a waste of money rose, but I swallowed it down.
“What do you mean ‘well’? It’s a family ring. You can’t just sit out!”
Family.
“…Okay, then.”
Lowering my head, I mindlessly shoved rice into my mouth.
“Well, we’ll get a ring, buy flowers, and write a letter…”
“That’s always what we do.”
Of course, it’s not flowers bought from a store.
They’re picked from the backyard of the fire station.
“Right. So this time, I’m thinking of doing something different.”
I tilted my head while chewing on the tough meat.
“Noah, if you don’t help, we’ll be in big trouble.”
Hehe.
Listening to that ominous laugh as I gulped down the meat.
What on earth is it?
*
Beep-beep- beep-ting!
The sound of a rubber band being twisted filled the room.
“Ugh… Hek, Dad… I… I feel dizzy…”
“Geez! How can you already feel dizzy? You ate so much!”
“No way… this… this is way too much… Who can blow up 300 balloons!”
“Since I’m blowing up some too, it won’t take as long. Hurry up and blow!”
Whoooosh—
Is he really Captain America or something?
In one breath, Dad inflated a balloon to a big size, and suddenly I felt amazed at him.
I needed to take a few puffs to get mine right…
I looked at the deflated balloon in my hand.
“So… Dad, when you proposed to Mom, did you blow up all 300 balloons by yourself?”
Dad, with a balloon in his mouth, nodded.
Then as he tied a fully inflated balloon, he opened his mouth.
“At that time, there were no cars or anything, so all I could do was this… I blew them like I was dying. Hehehe…”
His smile was genuinely happy.
“What did you like about Mom?”
“What did I like… there wasn’t anything specific. Just… hmm.”
Scratching his head shyly, Dad picked up another balloon and quietly said.
“I liked everything about her.”
His expression and tone made me feel shy too.
“Ugh… that’s so gross, Dad.”
“Hey, you brat! If you say that, I’ll be embarrassed too!”
Smack!
“Ow! Why did you hit me?”
“Just blow up some balloons!”
“Geez…”
Rubbing my hot forehead, I blew air into the crumpled balloon.
After what felt like an hour, like a drawn-out saga of ten hours.
Finally, the hellish time was over.
I had 100 balloons.
Dad had 200 balloons.
“Okay, let’s move them now.”
“…This?”
“Yup.”
“Where to…?”
“To Dad’s car.”
“…Why?”
“The day after tomorrow is the anniversary, so we have to hide them.”
With a sly smile, Dad stood up with the balloons tied to a thin thread.
In one bunch, there were 20 balloons.
A total of 15 bunches…
“So tedious…”
“If we succeed, I’ll treat you to meat.”
“…We were supposed to go eat anyway.”
Dad flinched and clicked his tongue, struggling to speak.
“Not all-you-can-eat… I’ll take you to a regular BBQ place.”
“…Really?”
“A man never goes back on his word.”
“Okay…”
I instantly jumped up, grabbing one bunch of balloons.
Seeing that, Dad smiled bitterly and opened the door as he walked out.
I quietly said, watching Dad’s back.
“All-you-can-eat is fine, too. I like the tteokbokki there.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. We always eat so much tteokbokki there. So… just go where we used to go.”
“…Alright.”
Step by step—
On the cold floor, I heard the sound of my socks with holes in them as my heels rubbed against the surface.
And amid that,
I’m sorry.
Dad’s small voice weighed heavily in the air.
I tightly closed my lips.
I intentionally waved the balloons around to send Dad’s apology far away.
Even if the sounds vanished,
Dad’s stooped back remained unchanged.
*
“Why does it smell so weird at home, dear?”
“Cough! W-what smell!”
During dinner, Mom’s sharp comment pierced through both me and Dad like an arrow.
“Hmm… What’s this smell? Rubber smell?”
Gasp…
“…Why suddenly a rubber smell?”
“So strange… Is it coming from next door?”
Dad’s eyes were frantic.
Seeing Dad’s look, I began to struggle to speak.
“Um… Well, maybe…? It sometimes comes through the vent.”
“What could they be doing to make a smell like this?”
Mom, sniffing continuously and tilting her head, finally nodded and quietly murmured.
“We should check it out tomorrow since we need to anyway.”
Hearing that, Dad gulped down his drink, looking at me with shaking eyes.
Ignoring that pleading glance, I shook my head.
I can’t do it.
Mom’s too hard to fool…
Moments later,
Dad’s loud voice broke the awkward silence.
“That aside, dear, is this new home okay?”
“Ah… Yes. It’s a bit tiring when I help them shower because they have movement issues, but it’s fine. The family members are nice.”
“Thank goodness.”
A sincerely relieved smile.
“Why are you asking about that?”
“Ah, one of my buddies has a wife who does what you do, and they said the new family is really picky. So… I was a little worried.”
“Oh my… really? Why? Are you afraid they’ll say something mean because of my facial burn?”
Dad’s spoon nearly dropped as he flinched.
“Uh, no? I just… I’m worried about you…”
“Pfft. It’s fine. This family doesn’t even care. In fact, I think they’re trying not to look at me on purpose… They’re kind people.”
Dad’s mouth twitched up and down like a yo-yo.
It was such a lively sight.
“G-good to know… truly.”
“Whew… It really is charming that he’s younger.”
Carefully placing a teapot filled with warm barley tea down, Mom poked Dad’s cheek.
“Who cares if he’s younger… Once you hit forty, everyone’s a friend.”
Dad gently grabbed Mom’s hand and quickly turned his head, carefully rubbing her fingers with his rough hands.
…Does he not know Mom’s ring size?
Seeing that, Mom looked at me with a mischievous smile.
“Five years younger is definitely younger. Isn’t that right, Noah?”
Dad and I locked eyes intensely.
“…Honestly… five years younger does seem younger…”
“Right?”
“Ugh…”
Dodging Dad’s gaze that looked at me like I was a traitor, I slurped up the miso stew.
The potatoes were perfectly soft.
The seasoning just right.
Every bite melted in my mouth.
…Mom is the best.
Despite all this, Dad’s fingers continued to fidget with Mom’s ring finger.
It felt like he was already caught.
Sigh.
*
“Did you come back? Traitor.”
“…Honestly, five years is… younger…”
“Is the miso stew that good?”
“Ugh…”
Glancing left, I slowly sat beside Dad.
“Have you chosen the ring design?”
Dad, squinting at me, handed me his phone with the gallery screen opened.
A gallery filled with pictures of Mom and me.
On top, there were six photos of rings.
I pressed the first photo to check the design.
“Hmm… this one is ambiguous.”
Next.
“This one’s… too thin for you, Dad.”
Next.
“Ew, totally a thug ring.”
Next.
Going on like this.
When I got to the fifth ring photo,
“…Oh?”
I felt an unfamiliar sense of déjà vu.
A silvery-white ring with a blue cubic stone embedded in it.
The name of that ring is…
Rubia.
