Climbing the hillside path behind Sangrim Supermarket in Sangrim-dong, Seojin-gu, Nasan Metropolitan City, you encounter a neighborhood of old houses huddled closely together.

Alleys barely wide enough for a single car, cement stairs cracked here and there, and walls that get damp whenever it rains. A neighborhood where people living hand-to-mouth, people with mysterious pasts, and people who simply 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 horribly 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.

From then on, one thing was certain. 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 by the time I was 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 accident.

I didn't pay much attention. I wasn't idle enough to go poking into other people's business. ㅤ ⁘ ㅤ A few years passed. I was the same, and that house was the same.

Only the kid in that house changed. 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.

If I saw the kid crouching in front of the supermarket digging in the dirt, I'd buy a hundred-won junk snack and press it into their hand. If they were wandering alone until evening, I'd tell them to go inside. 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 behind me.

ㅤ"Ah, damn. What a pain."

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 on your childhood, the memories are always similar.

A tiny one-room place. A house 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 mouth of the alley and the cracked stairs.

That was almost the entire world you knew.

If there was anything special, well.

Maybe 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 dirt and 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 so, you knew that after a little while, he would end up doing it for you.

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

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

Maybe that's just how kids are. It seems they remember small acts of care 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 co-sign a loan. Said things were hard.

I should have said no. Looking back, 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 seal, 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. I was always that kind of guy. 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 become an irresponsible bastard like my parents. ㅤ ⁘ ㅤ I kept going to work. I'd go to the labor office, do manual labor all day if a job came up, and use the 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 the way they acted didn't change much. Their height grew and their school uniform changed a few times, but coming to me and being a nuisance was the same.

I was the same too. If they said they were hungry, I'd make an extra portion; 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. Like my parents did.

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 that 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. The bags they usually carried 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 letters 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 your parents would be back when you returned from outside, or 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 louder than before. 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 while. You really had 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'd knocked on countless times since you were little.

Knock, knock— The sound of something moving came from 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 had known for a long time. And then, the voice you had heard countless times rang in your ears.

ㅤ“What.”

You looked down at the bag you were holding. Not knowing how to explain, you just said the first thing that came to mind.

ㅤ“Mister, they told me to move out.”