If you climb the hillside behind Sangrim Supermarket in Sangrim-dong, Seojin-gu, Nasan Metropolitan City, you'll find a neighborhood where old houses are huddled close together.

Alleys barely wide enough for a single car, cement stairs cracked here and there, and walls that get damp whenever it rains. It's a neighborhood where people living hand-to-mouth, people with mysterious pasts, and people who couldn't afford to leave have settled down. ㅤ

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Go Dongsu's Story I

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I grew up there.

My parents were poor, and even worse than being poor, they were incredibly irresponsible.

One day when I turned sixteen, the two of them vanished. I didn't know where they went. All that was left was a calendar with rent dates marked, a little bit of rice, and me, not yet fully grown.

So I worked whatever I could find. I washed dishes at restaurants, moved boxes at factories, and once I got some strength, I carried heavy loads. When my palms peeled and new skin grew, it would just peel again.

It was shitty, but what choice did I have? Working was better than being hungry.

One thing was certain from then on. I wasn't going to live like that. I wasn't going to be the kind of bastard who throws a person into the world and says 'not my problem.' ㅤ ⁘ ㅤ Even when I turned twenty, I was still in that alley.

Around that time, a young couple moved into the one-room place across the alley. Both looked younger than me, and they had a kid in their arms. I heard they got kicked out of their homes after having a baby by mistake.

I didn't pay much attention. I wasn't living a life leisurely enough to poke my nose into other people's business. ㅤ ⁘ ㅤ Several years passed. I was the same, and that house was the same.

The only thing that changed was that kid. The one who used to crawl was walking, and before I knew it, the one who walked was running around the alley.

It wasn't that I was trying to look after the kid. It was just that the kid was there, and the parents weren't looking after them.

When I saw the kid crouching in front of the supermarket digging in the dirt, I'd buy a hundred-won piece of junk food and shove it in their hand. If they were wandering around alone until evening, I'd tell them to go home. Sometimes when they followed me saying they were hungry, I'd boil an extra pack of ramen while I was making mine.

After doing that a few times, the kid started following me whenever they saw me.

ㅤ"Mister Dongsu. Mister Dongsu."

When I walked down the alley, tiny footsteps would stick to my back.

ㅤ"Ah, damn it. So annoying."

Even as I said that, I don't think I ever sped up my pace. ㅤ

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Your Story I

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When you think back to your childhood, the memories are always similar.

A small one-room house. A place that was hot even with the windows open in summer, and so cold in winter you didn't even want to touch the walls. The old supermarket at the entrance of the alley and the broken stairs.

That was almost the entire world you knew.

If there was anything special, well.

Mister Dongsu?

In your childhood memories, he was always big. He lifted heavy things with one hand and could reach high places. Whenever he came back from working somewhere, his clothes were covered in dust. His hands were rough, his face looked tired, and he never knew how to speak kindly.

And strangely enough, you followed him well.

ㅤ“Mister, do this for me.”

ㅤ“No. Do it yourself.”

Even though he said that, you knew he would eventually do it for you after a little while.

It was like that with broken toys, tangled shoelaces, and the two-wheeled bicycle you kept falling off of. When you were struggling alone and called for him, his hand would suddenly reach out at some point.

They were all just trivial things. But strangely, those things stayed deep in your heart for a long time.

Maybe that's just how kids are. They seem to remember the small ways they were looked after longer than you'd think.

A significant number of scenes from your childhood featured that man. ㅤ

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Go Dongsu's Story II

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That kid didn't move away, and I didn't move away either. I don't know what the situation was with that house, but I had debts.

To be precise, they weren't my debts.

When I was in my twenties, my parents, who hadn't shown their faces for nearly ten years, suddenly showed up and asked me to be a guarantor for a loan. Said things were difficult.

I should have said no. Looking back now, I don't know why that was so hard. Fuck, I was still stupid back then, so I ended up doing it.

I don't know if it was because they were my parents, or if I thought maybe they wouldn't abandon me this time. Anyway, I stamped the papers, and not long after, the two of them vanished again. All that was left was the debt transferred to my name.

I shouldn't have trusted them. That's just the kind of guy I was. A guy who can't easily abandon people once I've given them my heart.

So I decided not to keep people close at all. Because I felt like I'd have to take responsibility once I cared.

Because at the very least, I didn't want to be an irresponsible bastard like my parents. ㅤ ⁘ ㅤ I kept going to work. I'd go to the labor office, use my body all day if a job came up, and use my daily wages to pay off debt, pay rent, and buy food. Naturally, there was no money saved up.

During that time, the kid grew up on their own, but their behavior didn't change much. They got taller and their school uniform changed a few times, but coming to me and being annoying was the same.

I was the same too. If they said they were hungry, I'd make an extra portion of food. If they brought something that wasn't working, I'd curse while fixing it. If they needed something, I'd get them one within my means.

It was just that much. ㅤ ⁘ ㅤ I had known for a long time that the couple in that house weren't good parents. I sometimes thought that leaving the kid like that, they might actually abandon them one day. Just like my parents.

But as the years passed, three people continued to live in that house.

Seeing that, I thought: At least they aren't completely abandoning them. At least that kid won't have to make a living alone from the age of sixteen like I did.

I thought that was enough. Until the first day of the year the kid turned twenty. ㅤ

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Your Story II

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Your birthday is January 1st.

So the day you turned twenty was both the first day of the new year and the day your parents disappeared.

When you woke up in the morning, the house was strangely quiet. Your parents' clothes and shoes were gone. Their usual bags and a few small items had vanished with them.

A note was left on top of the shoe rack.

ㅤ｢You're an adult now, so live on your own.｣

You read it over and over. The words didn't change. You thought you'd become an adult when you turned twenty, but you were still just a kid.

Live on my own? How? What am I supposed to do?

For the first few days, you just waited at home. You thought maybe they'd be back when you returned from going out, or that they'd open the door and walk in as if nothing had happened.

But no one came.

The concept of an empty space was strange. Only two people were gone, but the room looked much larger than before, and the sound of the refrigerator running seemed much louder. ㅤ ⁘ ㅤ When about a week had passed like that, the landlord came by.

He said the rent was overdue. It was the first you'd heard of it. He said if you couldn't pay, you had to move out.

After the door closed, you stood there for a long time. You really have nowhere to go. No, wait. You thought for a long time and one person did come to mind.

You looked around the room. There wasn't much to pack. You put a few sets of clothes in a bag and stepped out the door.

After walking a few steps through the alley you'd traversed countless times, you stood in front of a familiar house. A worn iron gate. An old handle. A door you didn't know how many times you'd knocked on since you were little.

Knock, knock—you heard something moving inside, and soon the door opened.

Disheveled black hair, a face scowling as if annoyed. A small kitchen and a worn-out interior visible through the gap in the door. Things you'd known for a long time. And, the voice you'd heard countless times rang in your ears.

ㅤ“What.”

You looked down at the bag you were carrying. You didn't know how to explain, so you just said the first thing that came to mind.

ㅤ“Mister, they told me to move out.”