Chapter Text
Yellowed light flickers in the run-down convenience store almost to the beat of the song playing from static-filled speakers. My sensitive ears twitch at the scratchy noise. I stand in front of the milk cooler, eyes unfocused, as the countless labels swim before me. Nothing seems to strike a note of familiarity. My sluggish mind, from working overtime, cannot hone in on the banana milk I promised to bring home.
I am currently an intern at Jung & Min Law Firm. It is an inclusive environment, both humans and hybrids working in tandem. Mr. Min, one of the partners in the firm, is a cat hybrid himself. Finding a job that recognizes you for your abilities and not your species, is a rare gem. The affluent job had its ups and downs though, like fancy luncheons and working crazy hours when a case had a lead. I hope to become a permanent employee in the spring, seeing as my Bar Exams take place at the end of this semester. Lately, Mr. Min, my mentor, had noticed my hard work and said I would be a great addition to the team. The sardonic man even assigned me to work with the unit taking on our current high profile case. I am honored to get the hands-on experience but hate the extra hours clocked in at the office.
My focus stutters back to the present when an older woman beside me huffs in annoyance. Her gaze shifts to my soft brown ears in disgust. No matter what reforms the government has put in place to let hybrids and humans live in peace, there will be people still adverse to change. She aggressively snatches two cartons of coffee milk and stomps away, her heels click-clacking their way to the register. Following her lead, I quickly pull three cartons of the banana milk I had originally intended to purchase. I nestle the milk amongst packets of ramen and bags of chips. Looking back at the arrangement of drinks creating a kaleidoscope of colors I hesitantly grab coffee milk myself. If I keep up my current work habits, then the caffeine will come in handy.
Warm air kicks up around me as I exit the convenience store. The sounds of August coming to an end fill the serene night. My feet tread carefully on the still bustling sidewalk as my purchases swish against my legs. The moment of peace is shattered as my cell phone rings me back into reality. Rummaging in my suit jacket I pull the loud device into the night air. I smile at the lock screen and answer before the final ring can sound. "Yeoboseyo, Eomma. I made a quick stop, but I will be home soon. I meant to call you at lunch, but there was a breakthrough in the case. You know how it is... Thanks again Eomma." The call ends and I hurry my pace to make up for time lost stood staring at the coolers. I hate to burden my mother, but there is no one else I can turn to. The Icarus case has been a bigger project than we realized so it meant all hands on deck. Hopefully, Eomma wasn't given any trouble today.
Arms full of plastic bags and breath labored I make it to my apartment door. Of course, the elevator is in need of repairs the night I am exhausted from work and bogged down with packages. I ring the bell unable to enter the key code with my hands occupied. Eomma opens the door and before I can issue a greeting to the elderly woman a tiny blur plows into me. Small hands clutch at my suit-clad leg with no intention of letting go. "Appa!" I look to the pouty little girl clung to me, her small cream-colored ears drooping."Appa, you have been gone forever. I counted the hours and it has been at least 1,000. I thought you would never come home!" Remorse constricts my heart seeing my baby so upset. It is not like I want to be away so many hours a day, but being the primary provider of the four-year-old meant I had to work. We both have had to make sacrifices to survive.
"Hajima, let your Appa go. Come in, son. I made jjajangmyeon and kimbap for dinner. There is also a new container of kimchi in the refrigerator." My mother ushers me into the apartment as I am released from the viselike grip on my leg. Plastic bags get scattered on the counter as I toss them onto the gray quartz. Not bothering to make sure the contents survived the action I turn to the frowning child.
"Never come home? How could I not see my Tae-hui?" I scoop up the no longer pouty girl and place sloppy kisses on squishy cheeks. Her happy squeals bounce across the kitchen as I spin us around. Once finished I fix Tae-hui with a serious look, " I hope you were a good girl for Halmeoni. Appa would hate to not give you the cookies from Jinnie." She gives a pleading look to my mother over my shoulder. Eomma laughs and sings praises of Tae-hui's behavior. "Hmm, it seems like you earned them. Look in Appa's pocket." Excited hands retrieve the baked goods from my kerchief pocket. "Alright, you can have a few cookies, but don't spoil your dinner." I set Tae-hui down and watch as she skips off to the living room, little tail no longer flickering in distress.
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It is now late into the night, the moon having taken her place in the sky hours ago. I lay restless because my mind refuses to settle. Small snores fill the dark room. Tae-hui lays curled half on my chest with her pink bunny stuffie, sound asleep. My hand runs absentmindedly through her hair, the silky strands running past my fingertips. Each passing day she looks more and more like her mother. Dark hair that lays in loose curls, dainty hybrid features, and bright doe eyes endlessly crinkled in mirth.
I can't help but think back to my mother's words tonight. Tae-hui had been playing in front of the television as I ate the leftovers of the dinner Eomma had made. She fixed me with a look of concern, eyebrows drawn up. "Jungkook, she said "you cannot keep this up. Tae-hui needs you here. She needs her father, you are the only one she has. I know a lot of responsibility has been placed on your conscience at such a young age. Being a parent means providing, but most importantly it means being present. Appa and I won't always be here to help you. I know you love the firm, but endless hours away from home comes with the job. At what cost do you continue working like this? Maybe if you were married I wouldn't have to worry..." My mother went on to explain how important it is for young girls to have a mother-like figure to look up to and the challenge of raising a young hybrid in a still changing world. Her words were not new, she has been giving similar lectures for the last two years. This time, however, it struck a nerve. The last thing I want to do is fail Tae-hui, but how can I just replace her mother?
Tae-hui wasn't always my daughter. I was nineteen, young and naive, fresh out of high school. The only thing occupying my mind was Overwatch and how much ramen one can consume before it is fatal. Life was simple, just laze about and give half-assed attempts to begin university. This, of course, was before my sister left her newborn daughter in my custody. To say I had to grow up quickly was an understatement.
My sister was the perfect daughter, a successful marketing director and beautiful beyond compare with a fiancee to match. She broke the mold presumed of female hybrids, especially for a bunny who everyone expected to stay in the home. No one knew the golden Jeon Haneul to be less than stellar. As siblings we were as different as night and day, however, this didn't stop us from being close. She was five years older than I and acted like a mother hen. Always fussing at me for being irresponsible and cleaning up the messes I got myself into. So when she came home in tears I knew something awful had taken place for her to show signs of crumbling. This time it was me who wrapped her in my embrace. I stayed with her until the sun started to rise. It was bathed in the golden rays of morning that she spilled her cooped up emotions. The syllables that slipped past her nerve bitten lips changed my life as I knew it.
Haneul had been four months pregnant. Her so-called 'perfect' fiancee had lashed out in anger when she had told him over dinner. My sister made me promise not to tell Eomma and Appa. Unbeknownst to me, in that promise, I sealed her fate. She wasn't ready to be a mother, certainly not when she had just made a life on her own away from our parent's influence. My immature mind tried to make sense of the situation and ease her fears. Surely he would calm down and everything would be okay.
Wrong.
He skipped town within the next few days claiming he received a job promotion that couldn't be ignored.
For the next three months, our parents were none the wiser. A secret kept between siblings. The boy I had once been, no longer existed. I knew the severity of the situation and what it meant for everything Haneul had worked for. A pregnant hybrid was subject to ridicule. She could lose her respectable standing in the corporate world, especially being unwed. The baby was destined to be a bunny hybrid, as both her parents were bunnies themselves, which made the risk even greater.
I moved into her apartment to be closer to the university, but also to support her through countless doctors' appointments. It was as if fate had given me the opportunity to brace for the storm instead of facing it head-on. During the eighth month of her pregnancy, her stomach had begun to show, which was a cause of excitement for the expectant mother, however, things took a turn for the worst. During one of my afternoon classes, I received a call from my mother which was unusual. Haneul had collapsed at work and was taken to the hospital. The secret was out, the doctors told my mother the pregnancy was the cause for Haneul's strength to have depleted. Before the call had even ended I was making my way to the hospital only to be met with a glare only mothers can give.
Eomma got over the shock soon enough for the sake of her daughter's health. Haneul was bedridden, her heart having grown weak. Her body had taken its toll from all the stress and pregnancy itself. The baby, a little girl, was her reason to fight through the pain no matter the cost. It was hard to see my invincible sister unable to leave the confines of her bed. Haneul gave everything to see her daughter into the world. I, in turn, promised I would do the same for them both.
On March 12, 2015, a healthy baby girl was born to Jeon Haneul. The rainy day was one of the most beautiful moments in my life. The nine months of worry and uncertainty were worth every minute when I saw the doctors place my tiny crying niece, who had her fuzzy ears half raised, on her mother's chest. I can still recall the radiant smile Haneul had only for the bundle in her arms. Eomma and Appa wore sappy grins that I am sure mirrored my own at seeing mother and child. I stayed long after our parents returned home, still not believing that the small baby was even real. I'd been scared to hold something so delicate, but Haneul convinced me to hold my niece in the end. Now that I think about it I believe Haneul knew just what she was doing. I fell for the child that night when her hand grasped my finger and heart all at once. My sister smiled wistfully at us and declared, "Her name is Tae-hui, my greatest joy." I had looked at Haneul as she lay tired in the small hospital room as the rain played a soft medley against the windowpane. Tae-hui was Haneul's greatest joy, too bad she didn't get to cherish her.
In the middle of the night, Haneul's heart gave its final burst of strength. Her last action had been to award custody of Tae-hui to me in case of an emergency. Hybrid children always had to have an emergency file. It was the kind of world we lived in, hybrids in some instances were still being kept as companions. Hybrid parents filled out such things so that their children wouldn't end up in the wrong hands. Haneul knew that her health wasn't going to allow her to raise the newborn so by signing the papers Tae-hui was given a chance to flourish.
I had been awoken to a cacophony of machines coming to life as my sisters was ending. Medical staff swarmed the chaotic space as I vacated the makeshift bed I made to stay by Haneul's side. Doctors did everything they could to restart her heart, but it seemed she had excepted her fate. I hadn't wanted to leave her side, however, it was time for her to leave mine. She gave all she could for Tae-hui until the very end. I made a vow that night holding my sister's hospital bracelets and looking at the pink swaddled baby sleeping in the pediatric ward. If Haneul could give her life for a baby whom she went through hell for, then I will do the same. Tae-hui wasn't just Haneul's greatest joy, she was her legacy.
In the span of six hours, I saw the beginning and the end of life. Fate has a funny way of teaching us. I experienced unfathomable sadness and the purest of bliss on a rainy day in March.
There hadn't been much time to grieve, not with a newborn to care for. A week after Haneul passed, the hospital presented us with the papers she signed. I was to have custody of my niece should anything happen per Haneul's request. I was honored that she entrusted me with Tae-hui, but worried I would live up to the task. With a deceased mother and an estranged father, I was all the baby had. Who was I to refuse my sister's dying wish? Tae-hui became my legal dependent within those next few months.
Balancing university and raising a child was nothing life had prepared me for. Long nights of baby wails and term papers. I had lived with my parents, however, the elderly couple could assist only so much. By Tae-hui's second birthday it became clear my parents couldn't handle caring for a spritely toddler while I was in class. I decided to move to my current apartment and begin online courses to stay home with Tae-hui. If I was going to parent my sister's daughter then it was time I did so on my own. My days became filled with giggles and countless hugs. Even my phone bore influence from the affectionate bunny, my camera roll all pictures of Tae-hui. It has almost been two years since then and I cannot say much has changed. The only difference is my internship at the firm I began this summer. The job was amazing, but it created the need for someone to babysit Tae-hui. Luckily my mother agreed to take on the task now that her granddaughter was older and calmer.
The moon casts gentle shadows across the bedroom, giving a warm glow to the mirky night. I shift to my side and bring Tae-hui closer. Whenever I feel the worries and anxieties press in I hug her tight. Feeling her gentle embrace fills me with joy and makes all the fears subside. The sound asleep child mumbles and clutches her stuffie closer when I pull the blanket up over us. Placing a kiss on her forehead I finally close my eyes to rest.