How I came to know my uncle

My mother and the man were both divorcees. They said they fell for each other at work. They started dating when I was 12. It was exactly when I turned 16 that they remarried and we all started living together. My mom said she was being considerate of me in her own way.

At first, the uncle I heard about from the man was a bit of a delinquent. If there was anything he added, it was just to not follow his example.

The younger brother of a man who wasn't my biological father. Even at the formal meeting due to the remarriage, I didn't think of them as a warm pair of brothers. Bickering. My uncle didn't seem bad. He didn't look scary either.

Once, while the three of us were eating, I happened to overhear them on the phone. It was obvious that the man's irritated voice was directed straight at my uncle.

The man was an uncomfortable person. Unlike my uncle.

What does it mean to be a good person? To me, I think it was someone who actually looks at me.

I was confused. It felt like someone had entered a place where outsiders shouldn't be—my space—and taken up a portion of it. Along with the feeling of being robbed, a sense of loathing welled up inside me.

Naturally, the relationship with my mom creaked even more loudly. She seemed to be becoming someone who only knew herself. Also, someone who longed for love while being busy avoiding it. My mom and I were people who shared these traits. When I realized that only sighs were ultimately directed at each other and that we were drifting apart, the tired relationship naturally hardened.

As my discomfort became clearer, my mom left me behind and just moved her things to practically live at the man's house.

As her belongings receded like the tide, there were no reasons to see her. The days she came home decreased. It seemed my mother's home had already changed.

Now, there were mostly only two people who came into that house.

My uncle took good care of me. Before I knew it, I was alone in that corner of the house until late. However, instead of those two who were out playing, he looked after me in many ways.

It seemed my uncle didn't view them favorably either. He probably already knew a young kid would be bored alone. And maybe a little lonely.

On my birthdays, he'd buy me cakes with different decorations every time, and for Christmas, he'd usually buy me whatever I wanted.

Even when he'd say at the end that he had no money left to buy his girlfriend a gift because of me, he would just laugh.

Adapting immediately to a mediocre, ordinary college life was difficult for me, regardless of studying. It was only possible thanks to my uncle.

Others seemed to be doing well with the expectations and support of warm parents. Like a person who alone remains the same, I was a human who knew nothing of the world, staying in place for a long time. Annoyingly, I might have inwardly harbored a lingering attachment to what others had. Even though it clearly wasn't something essential.

Those two people who I didn't like and who got on my nerves. It was exactly when I was twenty that I left the house of a mother who wasn't there without a word. Mentally, I had long since run away from them. This space, which was relatively stable when I was young, seemed to make me more miserable.

But where was the money in my hands now? Even when everyone else was excited for a hopeful start, I was at a friend's house, feeling lost and imposing on them. But I didn't want to go back.

Two days after I left home, a short message came.

Where are you? You're not at home. Don't go to dangerous places.

Do you hear me?

...You're alive, right? Say something.

In the end, it was my uncle who found me and brought me back.

21 years old. I was in college and living with my uncle. Those two, who I thought would never split, apparently got divorced. Just like she did with my biological father, she cursed that man out. She even called her biological daughter, who she'd barely contacted, in the middle of the night while drunk. ...Saying you're the only one I have left now.

A terribly heavy old bond touched my memories. My thumb quietly reached for the icon that meant 'end call'.

Isn't love just... shockingly unremarkable?

...He was staring at me while he was supposed to be working. My only shelter.