Chapter 33: Comic book window (1)
Part 1
Despite it being Sunday, my body, waking early, kept nagging me with sleepiness. There’s nothing to do, so what’s wrong with going back to sleep? The thought tugged at my eyelids, but I managed to wriggle out of the blankets. Slowly blinking, my vision cleared, revealing the still-dim ceiling of my room, growing sharper with each blink.
“Haaa… yawn.”
My foggy mind lazily churned through meaningless thoughts, tossing them up and letting them fall. The midday heat was starting to creep in, but the early morning air still carried a chill, amplified by just escaping the warmth of my blankets.
“…Mmm.”
I turned sluggishly, my hand fumbling by habit over the shelf by my bed. My fingers brushed the cold surface of my phone. Don’t wanna hold it. I didn’t want to disrupt the lingering warmth in my body. Carefully, using just my thumb and index finger, I pinched the gap between the case and the phone, dragging it onto the bed rather than lifting it.
The moment I pressed the power button, the screen blazed to life, and I let out an involuntary “Ugh!” I could’ve sworn I’d lowered the brightness—why was it so blinding? Squinting, I watched faint halos of light drift across my vision before fading. Wiping a stray tear from the corner of my eye, I checked my messages. Most were from the four guys, still chatting long after I’d gone to bed.
Aside from a few ignored group chat announcements, it was just their messages. I cleared the notifications and started scrolling through their conversation, which stretched until about 2 a.m. Unsurprisingly, the topic was me—and Youngjin’s bakery.
Most of their talk about me was playful: She should just drop school and go full-time streamer! Toward the end, it shifted to self-deprecating jokes about their own jobless futures being the real issue.
- But Youngjin, can’t you just take over the bakery? Isn’t your certification for baking?
- Honestly, with all the franchise chains popping up, it doesn’t feel like a safe bet anymore.
- Don’t you still have a lot of regulars?
The talk about Youngjin’s bakery felt heavy, probably influenced by their grim outlook on their futures. Complaints about new customers being rare, only regulars showing up, but at least it was busy enough to need extra hands.
“Hmm… Youngjin’s bakery.”
Since high school, when our group first started hanging out, I’d often dropped by. It was a familiar place, as old as my friendships with the four. It was a bit out of the way, but after school, Youngjin’s parents would insist I take leftover baked goods—freshly made, no need to worry about it—and I’d stop by a couple times a week. The memory flickered faintly.
“…I used to go there just to save on snack money, no deeper thought.”
Looking back, it feels shameless and immature, but back then, free tasty food was all that mattered. Seongyoon was the only one with a generous allowance.
“Now that I think about it, did Seongyoon even need to tag along?”
Childhood memories. That bakery, tucked in a corner of those faded scenes, stirred a mix of guilt and gratitude. From what they said, things weren’t going great there. If I could help, wouldn’t that be the right thing to do?
“…I’m just assuming I’d be helpful.”
Am I being overconfident? The worry crept in, but I shook my head, brushing it off. I might not have a huge impact, but I could definitely help somehow.
“Even if it’s not some big promotional boost, an extra pair of hands would help.”
I could handle the counter. I’m decent at picking up new tasks. They asked for help, so if I can, I should. My mind leaned that way, at least until the school break ended.
“Let’s get up.”
I pulled my legs fully out of the blankets, planting them on the floor. Shivering from the cold, I shuffled toward the bathroom. It’s Sunday, so no one’s up yet—perfect time to shower in peace.
Part 2
“If you’re up early, you could at least set the table.”
“All I can do is heat up frozen stuff or cook something simple.”
“Why not learn to cook?”
More side dishes to eat alone sounded tempting, but Mom’s eager eyes made me opt for a vague smile instead. I wasn’t that eager to dive into cooking.
“But you can handle basic stuff like chopping or prepping veggies, right?”
“If I feel like it, I’ll grab a cookbook.”
“If I could sleep an extra 30 minutes before work, I’d be thrilled.”
You know that means I’d sleep 30 minutes less, right, Mom?
“Fine, you’ll figure it out,” she said, waving it off.
“Ugh, acting like I only had three sons?” Dad grumbled, flipping through TV channels before returning to his newspaper.
He still seemed worried about my mental state, treating me like a son, while Mom, since I’d started brightening up, had gradually begun treating me like a daughter. Lately, this difference sparked little clashes between them over how to approach me.
I was grateful for both Dad’s concern and Mom’s acceptance, but I couldn’t pick a side.
“Anyway! Simple home cooking isn’t that hard, right?”
“…Let’s just eat first. Is Junseok-hyung still asleep?”
To dodge her persistence, I threw Junseok under the bus. Mom’s obvious disappointment at my blatant topic change was clear, but honestly, committing to learning would just invite hassle.
“Let him sleep. He’s been worn out from work lately.”
“Really? He hasn’t been coming home that late.”
“It’s not about time—it’s the intensity.”
At Dad’s words, I set out three pairs of chopsticks. With Mom handling most of the cooking, there wasn’t much for me to do beyond grabbing ingredients or setting the table. Placing chopsticks and scooping rice felt like my only tasks… Maybe learning to cook isn’t such a bad idea.
“How’s the streaming going?”
“Huh?”
“You’re helping Sanghyeon with his internet broadcasts.”
“…Oh.”
Dad knew Sanghyeon’s streams were doing fine, so this wasn’t a status check. His glance from the newspaper felt pointed. I realized he wasn’t asking about the stream itself but about me showing my face on it. Are you okay with this new self? That’s the worry behind his question.
“Haha… I’m trying to see it as convenient. Honestly, Dad, it’s not a bad face, right?”
“Not bad? World’s best.”
I answered cheerfully, exaggerating for effect. I’m really okay now. I’m living happily, like my moping was a lie. Did he feel it? Dad let out a small chuckle, playing along, before turning back to his paper. The faint curve of his eyes warmed a corner of my heart.
“Already relying on your face to solve everything? That’s a bad habit.”
“No way I’ll ever be that magnanimous… Haha.”
“See? When things get tricky, you just flash a big smile to skate by.”
Better than moping, right, Mom? I let out a playful “Ow!” as she pinched my nose. Her smiling face and the cozy smell of rolled omelets filled the air.
“…Oh, speaking of which.”
Namul, kimchi stew, rolled omelets, soy sauce. A hearty breakfast spread. Sitting with my family, I cautiously opened my mouth. I figured they’d be okay with it, but a flicker of worry—Am I causing trouble?—crept in.
“Whoa, what’s up now?” Dad asked.
“You know Youngjin’s family runs a bakery, right?”
I started explaining briefly. My parents listened without pausing their chopsticks, smiles on their faces. I couldn’t tell if they were just amused or if there was more to it.