Chapter Text
Mikyung had only ever been to Seoul once before and that had been well over thirty years ago by now. It had been for a school trip to Gyeongbokgung palace and she had fought with her parents the night before she left. Back then, the buildings had been about half the size they were now and she had been twice the woman. She’d paraded herself around the pavilions in the brightest winter hanbok she could rent and kept her head held high. Returning once more, she felt diminished in size against the preposterous high rises. Even the large hulking coach bus she’d taken from Busan couldn’t quite quell the feeling of being entirely miniscule in a place like this.
How had Jongwoo not been swallowed by the enormity of it all?
The dial tone was a familiar sound. Her youngest son was never quick to answer. Young people these days slept right next to their telephones, so it had always come off as intentional to her. Mikyung suspected Jongwoo was taking these spare moments of white noise to debate whether or not it was worth it to pick up.
“...Hello?”
Mikyung’s mouth curled upward. She’d been worth it this time. “Son. Have you eaten?”
“Mn. Eomma.” Jongwoo replied, Mikyung could tell he was working on something else as they spoke. She could hear the click, click, clicking of his keyboard. “What’s wrong?”
“Ah...” Mikyung paused. For a second, she grew shy. “I’m here.”
“Hmm?” On the other side of the line, she could hear Jongwoo shuffling about now- giving her his full attention at last. “What do you mean? Where are you?”
“I’m in Seoul.” Mikyung elaborated, bringing the words out of her chest almost sheepishly. “Pick your mother up from the station, will you?”
“Wha-” Jongwoo sounded like he was choking. “You… Why?”
“Can a mother not visit her son?”
“I- Wait-” More shuffling. “I’m at work. I won’t be finished anytime soon-”
“Ah.” Overtime. Young people and their overtime. She’d forgotten. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll catch a taxi to your apartment then.” Mikyung shook it off, trying to keep the calculations out of her head. She had no doubt the cab fare in Seoul had gotten as high as the sky rises had. She eyed one now, her cellphone pressed close to her cheek. “Your roommate will be there, right? He can let me in as I wait.”
Jongwoo was silent for a moment too long. Mikyung wondered if he was making that face he always made when he was trying not to snap at someone. All scrunched up and frustrated… She could picture it as clear as day, even after two years.
“Yeah… He can do that.”
“Perfect.” Mikyung, pleased at the response, just smiled. “You know, I bought some mackerel just now. I’ll cook it up for dinner for all of us.” She clicked her tongue. “Goodness, if I put my prices up as high as that fishmonger had his I’d be in a penthouse Yeongdo-gu-”
“Eomma?”
“I don’t know how people can walk around with all their designer bags and shoes when the basics cost this much-”
“Eomma.” Jongwoo said, a touch firmer this time. “I need to get back to work, okay?”
“Oh, right.” Mikyung clicked her tongue. “You don’t have time for your mother that’s come all the way to see you?”
“Eomma…” Jongwoo whined. “I’ll message you my address. We can talk when I come home.”
Click.
The man at the door was about a decade older than Jongwoo and entirely too handsome to not be someone’s husband. Mikyung half wondered if she’d gotten the address wrong and stumbled into the home of a movie star… But then the movie star had started talking to her.
“Hello. You must be Jongwoo-ssi’s mother. I’m Seo Moonjo.” He bowed his head at her politely, his teeth shimmering pearls of white. “Jongwoo-ssi said you would be arriving. Please come in.”
“Ah, hello. I’m Yoon Mikyung. Jongwoo’s mother.” She ducked her head a touch. This man spoke incredibly well. He wasn’t at all what she expected. So clean cut and beautiful. “Thank you for putting up with my son.”
“Please let me take your bag.”
“Ah, it’s fine. I didn’t bring much.” Mikyung declined, shucking off her shoes at the entrance and replacing them with the plush guest slippers that were at the ready for her. “Wow… This place is very nice. I didn’t expect any son of mine to be living here. I thought he might have given me the wrong address because he was mad I came here without telling him.”
“You’re at the right place. Jongwoo-ssi just works very hard.” Moonjo replied cordially.
“He does.” Mikyung agreed, shuffling inside the well-decorated living area. She hadn’t known what to expect when Jongwoo had mentioned he was renting an apartment with someone he’d met at the boarding house, but it hadn’t been floor to wall windows and embroidered throw blankets. It all felt decidedly… domestic. Much too well kept for two men. “This is a lovely apartment. Your girlfriend must have helped decorate for you.”
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh.” Mikyung blinked. That was a surprise. “Then, my son…”
“I don’t believe he’s seen another woman since Min Jieun.” Moonjo added helpfully, a hand to his chin. “He certainly hasn’t brought them back here. I would have heard. Our beds are very close to each other.”
“Two bachelors then.” Mikyung decided, scanning Moonjo under the light of the floor lamp beside him. “My, you're just too handsome to be single though.”
Moonjo shrugged with a put upon bout of exasperation. “It must be because I’m a serial killer.”
They both laughed.
The evening had long since set in and Jongwoo still hadn’t arrived home, but Mikyung didn’t mind all that much. Her son’s roommate was good company. He didn’t seem to mind all her stories about Jongwoo as a child. He’d even let her show him baby photos she had saved on her phone.
“To be honest, Moonjo-ssi, I came to Seoul because I was worried about my son.” Mikyung admitted. The two of them were chopping vegetables on the countertops. Mikyung had shooed Moonjo out of the kitchen twice now but he insisted on assisting an old lady like her. It was very sweet of him. She was certain he would make any future mother-in-law very happy one day.
“Oh? Worried how?”
“I heard Jieun-i recently got engaged to Jongwoo’s sunbae from university.” She clicked her tongue in disappointment at the thought of it. She’d seen the photos online of the two of them together. The size of the ring on her finger was absurd. It didn't suit her at all. “She was a lovely girl. I’m not sure what that foolish boy did to let her slip through his fingers.”
“I don’t think he did anything.” Moonjo replied noncommittally, the sound of his knife on the cutting board quickening. Mikyung didn’t take notice.
“Does he seem depressed to you?” She asked him then. “I often can’t tell just from the sound of his voice. He’s so… He’s so sensitive. I worry for him, you know.”
“I don’t think he’s depressed.” Moonjo admitted honestly. “He seems happy here.”
What a strange way to word that... Mikyung shrugged. She finished slicing the cucumber as she fiddled with her thoughts and popped the end piece into her mouth, wincing at the feeling of it against her teeth. She hadn’t left it out of the fridge for long enough. The coldness sent a shock through her gums.
“...Toothache?”
“Ah, just the usual kind.” Mikyung brushed it off with a wave. “I’ve been meaning to get it checked out.”
“Why haven’t you?” Moonjo replied, titling his head in concern.
“Hm? Oh…” She scratched the back of her neck. “It’s embarrassing to say at my age but I’m scared of dentists.”
Moonjo’s lips quivered upward then. “I’m actually a dentist.” He said then. “Did Jongwoo-ssi not tell you?”
Mikyung’s eyes widened. She shook her head. “My son doesn’t tell me anything about his life here.” She clicked her tongue. “Gosh… He stresses me out.”
Moonjo placed his knife down on the counter, inspecting her slowly. “Do you grind your teeth in your sleep?”
“Of course I do.” Mikyung laughed like it was obvious. “I’ve got two sons over thirty and no grandchildren!”
“That’s probably the cause.” Moonjo nodded, cleaning the vegetable residue off his knife with expert precision. He stopped. “Ah, not the lack of grandchildren. The teeth grinding.”
“Oh, you’re funny, Moonjo-ssi.” Mikyung pat him on the shoulder. “How could you tell I grind my teeth in my sleep though?”
Moonjo continued to smile pleasantly. “Jongwoo-ssi grinds his teeth in his sleep too.”
Mikyung was too charmed by him to wonder why he knew that.
When Jongwoo finally ventured back home, the sky was fully dark and Mikyung was laid out on the lounge with Moonjo looking into her mouth for cavities.
“What…”
“Welcome home.” Moonjo greeted with a warm smile.
“Hngeghlo, mrhy thon.” Mikyung attempted.
“Moonjo, take your hands out of my mother’s mouth.”
“She was having some sensitivity pain around her left premolars. I wanted to make sure there was no serious damage.” Moonjo replied, as if that explained anything. He did, however, obey Jongwoo’s request, flicking off his reusable gloves with a practiced ease.
Mikyung had a clear view of the seven stages of grief her son went through when he saw them. In all fairness, she was sure it made for a pretty funny setting. The acceptance washed over Jongwoo so quickly though that Mikyung had to assume he was used to his roommate’s antics. They must spend a lot of time together. Two men with no girlfriends living together… It probably got pretty lonely. Mikyung was glad they had each other.