"The question is not whether we will die, but
how we will live."
-Joan Borysenko
part i. birth (circumstances thereof)
By New Years, she knew she was pregnant.
The realisation was met with quiet acceptance; a hint of resignation. Yi Ha-Neul was a pragmatic woman, after all, and knew there was little point in lamenting her carelessness now. The only question that really remained to be considered was, how would she cope?
Ha-Neul had not been content with the prospect of either marrying into money or taking up the family business - and so she had clung to education as her escape outlet. Quietly confident; stubborn; fascinated by languages.
She became a translator.
All at once, paths opened to her that had never before been possible - and one of these paths led her to Japan, and into the arms of one Aoki Kazuo. It was not love; it was barely romance - just a chance meeting at a business dinner in Ginza.
It had been a brief affair, borne of boredom and the loneliness of staying in a foreign country; she had not discovered until later that the apparently mild-mannered Kazuo was, as it turned out, a Yakuza member. Oh, she'd heard the rumours - that her current client had various dubious connections, but she'd never expected that she might become caught up with them herself, somehow.
She thought back to her small, neat apartment, just on the outskirts of Taegu, and knew she could not return like this.
Of course, she told him - and it came as no surprise to Ha-Neul to discover that Kazuo did not want a child, much less one with Korean blood. But Kazuo was not an unkind man, and allowed her to stay until the baby was born. "Then," he had said, "we will decide what to do with it."
It.
As the months passed by, Ha-Neul sat in her room and thought of home; thought of how shocked and disappointed her parents would be if she returned a single mother. Of how this child growing inside of her could put an end to her career. So she rested her hands on her swollen belly, and thought of her child crying out as she left it in the arms of... who?
Because although the baby may have Kazuo's genes, it would never be his. He did not want it, and she would never let him have it. Once, she had heard gunshots, and he had not come to reassure her until the following day, pointedly refusing to look her in the eyes.
She did not want the child to grow up in this world; an underground of corruption and violence; distrust and crime. No, it should never have to face any of this.
In her eighth month, Kazuo brought her a visitor - a strange foreign man, perhaps in his late forties. Kazuo seemed to hover in the doorway uncertainly for a moment, before saying, "I've found you a... client. Something to keep you busy." She turned and glanced up at him in surprise, but Kazuo was already leaving.
The room was quiet and a little gloomy; her armchair faced the room's single window, which looked out over the grey cityscape. It was a simple room, neat and sparsely furnished; she had few belongings of her own here, although the sideboard held small stacked boxes; evidence of the cream cakes she had taken to longing for recently.
She began to stand up, but the stranger approached and held up his hands, apologising profusely in English. Ha-Neul smiled up at him and remained seated, gesturing to indicate that he should take the chair near her own. "I am Yi Ha-Neul. What is it that I can do to help you?" The switch to speaking English felt awkward; after so long of nothing but being surrounded by Japanese, it gave a strange sense of displacement. But at the same time, she felt the joy of exercising her knowledge returning - something she had not felt in quite a while.
The man still looked a little surprised at how heavily pregnant she was, but smiled and introduced himself politely, "I'm Quillsh Wammy; it's a pleasure to meet you." He hesitated, and then there was silence as she watched him curiously.
He looked, she thought, far too nice to be involved with Kazuo. Wammy had a kind face; tired, perhaps, and with greying hair - but there was a sharp intelligence in his eyes, too. Although ever since Kazuo, she had learned to not judge on initial impressions.
"Well... it looks like I'm going to need to stay here in Japan for the next four years; business, you see - and when I bumped into Aoki-san at a meeting, he kindly offered to introduce me to someone who could both act as my translator, and also teach me Japanese--" he paused then, and offered an apologetic smile, "-- but I was unaware of your condition, I admit. I couldn't possibly ask you to accompany me as a translator."
Ah. Ha-Neul gave a weak smile and inclined her head, dark hair falling to temporarily obscure her vision. So, Kazuo did not even see her pregnancy as worth mentioning? Though she had once been fond of him, such feelings were now a faintly bittersweet memory.
But... the man who was now here, looking at her with such concern - she would help him, and not for Kazuo.
For him because he needed it, and for herself, because she wanted to.
"Thank you for your concern, but it will not be for long. If you don't mind waiting, I would be happy to act as you translator in a couple of months. In the meantime, I'll gladly begin Japanese lessons."
It gave her a strange sense of contentment to see the sincere gratitude on the older man's face; she knew she had made the right decision. Her baby would be born, but this work would certainly last her until she was able to find somewhere for it to go. Although the thought pained her now - (so often she would stroke the distended skin and feel her heart skip a beat with every kick) - the child's place could not be with her.
The next few weeks passed pleasantly; though she had never been a teacher, she found she coped well enough - and Wammy turned out to be an adept student. They would talk, for hours at a time; sometimes about Japan, other times about Wammy's work (he was, she was delighted to discover, an inventor - whose meeting with Kazuo had been purely coincidental) and frequently, they would just talk about inconsequential things, content merely to learn, and keep each other's company.
She was faintly surprised to discover that she had become rather fond of him.
Ha-Neul was in the middle of explaining various adjective forms when her water broke. She froze, panic closing in, the gloomy walls of the room suddenly beginning to feel oppressive.
Now. It was happening now.
Suddenly, Wammy was beside her, all concerned looks and comforting words, leading her back to the armchair. She couldn't help but flush, mortified that he was seeing her like this.
But as she sat there, and the contractions continued (slowly, so slowly they came at first), she clutched his hand and thought of Kazuo in his distant office, relief and gladness that she did not have to do this alone choking up her throat.
He wanted to go and fetch someone, but she gripped his hand tightly, and whispered for him not to leave her. He stayed.
Outside, it had begun to rain; she could see the dark clouds gathering over the city outside of her window; could feel the unpleasant, hotly heady pressure forming in the air. Her breaths began to come heavily, almost raggedly, and the contractions were quickening, the baby within her struggling for freedom.
A gentle tap on her shoulder, and she glanced up; Wammy was extending a hand to her.
"The hospital?"
He asked the question in Japanese, and she couldn't help but smile.
"Yes... thank you."
---------------------------------
Ten hours later, Ha-Neul held her baby in her arms; a boy. Though he was small and a little light, she didn't think he could be any more perfect - soft skin, tufts of black hair and large, dark eyes. She clutched him to her and whispered words of love in his ear, in all the languages that came to mind.
A few hours later still, after the nurses had made her rest, Ha-Neul felt her heart leap a little as she saw Wammy's head peer worriedly around the door.
He... had stayed. Although she knew he was only a client, he was still probably the closest thing to a friend that she had in Japan, and she felt glad.
"Oh, come in!" She smiled at him tiredly, and cradled her son carefully as Wammy approached and sat down beside the bed, looking on in an amusing mixture of wonderment and nerves.
"A boy," she confirmed, as Wammy appeared poised to ask a question., but then he just laughed softly and nodded instead.
"Does he have a name?"
Ha-Neul met that curious gaze; those kind eyes that had helped her through this. And, she knew. This child would not be like his father; he'd be the opposite. This child would be righteous.
"Yes. His name... is Jung."
