I straightened my jacket as I walked through Jeonju Station, the echo of footsteps and rolling suitcases all around me, my shaved head and the flag stitched onto my uniform marking me like a stamp—no mistaking where I'd been. The backpack clung to me like a shadow I hadn't shaken off yet.
I had just gotten back from military service, let out a slow breath as I stepped into the sunlight — sky bright, air calm, trees swaying gently in the distance.
"Ahh... good to be back."
I strolled toward the line of cabs—nostalgic in its own way. I'd often come to my grandmother's place through this very spot at Jeonju Station.
One of the drivers, an older man with kind eyes and a warm smile, called out to me. "Soldier, where you headed?"
Holding my head for a second, I muttered, "Sir, can you take me to Deokjin-gu?"
He nodded, smile still on his face. "Sure, soldier. Get in."
Stepping into the cab, I noticed how focused he looked—like a man who'd been doing this for decades. After a few minutes of silence, he spoke in a calm voice. "Soldier, what's your name?"
Keeping my phone down, I nodded. "Han Jiwoo, sir."
"Ah, just returned from your service?"
I smiled. "Yes, sir. After four years, I finally got a leave."
"You should enjoy it then," he chuckled.
A few minutes later, we reached Deokjin-gu. I gave him a respectful nod. "Thank you."
As I stepped out and gazed around, a strange feeling hit me, everyone around me looked normal. They weren't walking stiff, they were laughing a kid even ran past me waving, I smiled waving him back.
The air didn't reek of gunpowder or sweat—just a clean breeze that slipped into my lungs like forgiveness.
I stood there stiff, old habits sinking in. I had four months to enjoy this, and I wasn't going to waste a second. The scent of barbecue drifted over and hit me right in the gut—first bucket list, checked.
I turned my head, looked both ways for cars, then crossed the road. Holding my bag tight, I called out to the stall owner, "Hello, ma'am, can I get some barbecue?"
Her face was wrinkled but her smile was warm. For a second, I saw my grandmother, who had passed away ten years ago. "Sure, soldier," she said, blowing the smoke off the grill as she spoke.
Holding the plastic bag with the barbecue inside, she handed it to me with a small gesture. "Thank you." I gave a slight nod and took the bag.
I couldn't wait to sink my teeth into it—my hunger gnawed at me like a dog tugging its leash.
Scanning the area, I muttered to myself, "If I'm right, there should be a park around here."
Sure enough, I spotted Deokjin Park just ahead, its pond glistening under the sun, irises nodding in the breeze. I slowed down, letting the quiet wash over me, the city's hum fading behind as the scent of lotus blossoms drifted in.
I dropped my bag on the bench and sat with a soft thud, slowly unwrapping the barbecue like it was some divine fruit. It was as juicy as I expected. I took a slow bite and—damn, I felt like I was in heaven. All pink and fairy-like around me. Tears welled up in my eyes.
I hadn't had a real meal since I joined the army. Sure, the food there wasn't awful, but eating the same thing every day—pork and potatoes—gets old fast. And if you showed up late? Empty stomach for the rest of the day.
I sighed, eyes drifting up to the birds flying overhead. Resting my head on the bench, I noticed an old couple standing nearby, their backs were hunched, both of them leaning on walking sticks, gazing at me with soft smiles and quiet curiosity.
I stood up and gave a small gesture. "Please, have a seat. I was about to get up anyway."
The old man waved his hand, motioning me to come closer. I stepped forward and hunched down to their height. In a slow, low voice, he asked, "Are you a soldier?"
I glanced down at my clothes, checking if they still looked military. After a moment, I replied with an awkward smile, "Yeah."
"Oh... okay. Thank you for your service." They turned and walked away, slow and steady like time itself didn't rush them anymore.
I stood there for a second, still a bit confused.. but warm. That was the first real thank you I'd gotten in a long time.
Shouldering my bag again, I started toward my second destination—home. Modest and narrow, just a small place tucked between tightly packed buildings, an old shop marking the entrance.
I trudged through the valley, the bags were big and heavy, so I couldn't move fast. Inside were a few delicate things memories packed in ceramic and paper.
I glanced at my watch, twenty minutes till home. Each step felt like I was walking back into something I'd missed. I let out a deep breath, hands on my knees, then looked up slightly. Nothing had changed—flowers still lined the roadside, and that same old store.
I stepped inside. Same shelves, same sweets and flowers... and the same woman who'd watched me grow up.
I looked around for her, but she was nowhere in sight. The place was small, so I left my bag at the door and gently pulled out the flower vase.
I found her in the back, arranging something. Her head jolted up, eyes bright, she stood quickly. "Jiwoo! You scared me, did you get leave?"
I gave a small nod, bowing slightly. "Yes, Aunt Soyeon. Just got back."
With a soft smile, I held out the vase carefully. "It's not much... but thank you for looking after my house."
She reached out slowly, nodding. "That wasn't needed, Jiwoo... but I'll accept it. Here, your house key."
I took the keys with another short bow and stepped out. Picking up my bag, I walked toward the house, my boots thudded against the wooden floor of the porch. From my pocket, I took out the key.
As the door creaked open with an eerie little echo, the smell of dust and old wood lingered in the air. Closing the door, I dropped my bag and hunched down, slowly sitting on the floor. When I turned around, my eyes landed on a photo resting on the shelf.
I stood up, using my hands for support, and walked toward it.
Gently, I picked up the frame, wiping the dust off with my sleeve. My hands hovered over it. Tears welled up.
It was ten years ago my parents, grandmother, and I were on a trip to the Dano Water Iris Festival. We were laughing at Dad's terrible jokes, singing along to songs on the radio, everything so warm and loud and alive... until reality slammed into us like a freight train of steel and blood.
I still remember it. My mother's last breath, the way her chest shuddered as she reached for me. My father, crushed in the front seat, blood dripping down his face. My grandmother, her body shielding mine even as she bled, her smile never faded. She looked at me and said, "Jiwoo, my dear... don't forget—being kind costs nothing."
I placed the frame down, let out a deep breath, wiped my tears, and flopped onto the old mattress. The floor creaked beneath me, the scent of dust hanging in the air—but for the first time in years, the silence didn't press like a blade—I could finally breathe into the dark.
[Player Found: Han Jiwoo]