Gentle Forest

Chapter 1

The heatwave seemed unending, day after day.

The TV constantly warned about the soaring temperatures, but the intensity of the heat was something I could no longer truly feel.

When I thought back to living in Seoul, I could only vaguely recall the oppressive hot air that suffocated me. If there's one advantage to living here, it's that I no longer have to endure the physically and mentally exhausting heat.

While I wasted my time, I could hear my dad bustling around the house. He was never known for being calm, but today, there was a particular excitement in the air.

"Is it really that great?" I asked, seeing him bustling about.

"Absolutely!" he replied, a broad smile on his face.

Today was the day my dad's long-cherished dream came true.

A friend he had known for twenty years was finally visiting us.

Thanks to occasional video calls, I was already familiar with him and his family.

"Mister," as I called him, was a man who could be summed up in three words: An American, an entrepreneur, and a travel enthusiast. His cheerful, free-spirited personality made him feel less like a stranger, despite his foreignness.

Dad and the Mister had a lot in common: they both got married in the same year, welcomed sons, and tragically lost their wives in the same year. Despite the cosmic odds of crossing half the globe to meet, their connection was profoundly unique.

Even though they had met so few times that I could count them on one hand, I understood their closeness through the stories my dad told me about their adventures.

"Is Mister busy?" I asked.

"Yeah, he's got some work at the company, so he'll be here in two days," Dad replied, adjusting his crumpled sneakers. As he stepped outside, I followed him slowly.

"Why come out? Just stay inside," he suggested.

"I'm just here to welcome him," I said.

The first to visit today was not Mister himself but his son, Aiden.

Despite being the same age as me, our lives were worlds apart, making it hard to find common ground. Born into a wealthy family, he was attending the most prestigious university, effortlessly. With his athletic build and good looks, he was the star quarterback of his school's American football team and enjoyed immense popularity.

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards Aiden. He had everything I didn't, but because our worlds were so different, that jealousy never really took root.

One day, I found myself peeking at his SNS and just kept saying, "Wow." He was always surrounded by different people, his photos exuding an infectious energy that made it clear he was a guy who deserved the admiration he received.

Aiden had visited Korea with his father only once, ten years ago. I couldn't remember it well because I was hospitalized with pneumonia at the time. The memories of being constantly ill were blurry, and recalling the brief meeting at the hospital was even more challenging.

Our relationship was uncertain, somewhere between knowing and not knowing each other. Nevertheless, I secretly looked forward to Aiden's visit. The prospect of a new friend made me strangely happy, and I found myself nervously anticipating his arrival to the extent that I stayed up late into the night yesterday.

"Are you going to be alright by yourself for a couple of hours?" Dad asked as he climbed into the old, weather-beaten truck parked outside.

There was a note of concern in his voice that he couldn't quite mask.

"I'll be fine," I assured him with my usual nonchalant tone. "Even if you came back in two days, nothing would happen."

"Still, don't go running around or doing anything reckless just because you're welcoming a guest."

"Don't worry, Dad. Just go. It's hot, and you shouldn't keep someone waiting."

"If anything happens, call me."

The agreed meeting point was the city's express bus terminal, a considerable distance from our secluded forest home. Dad checked his watch, sighed, and started the engine. I watched as the blue truck, battered and scratched from years of rough journeys, slowly pulled away.

"Have a safe trip!" I called out, waving as Dad drove away. His gaze lingered on me, full of affection, until he disappeared down the dusty road.

Despite the midsummer heat, a surprisingly cool breeze rustled through the trees, creating ripples in the leaves and brushing gently against my face. I inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh, clean air, and lay back on the cool porch.

It had been four years since we moved into this forest. My lungs couldn't handle the polluted air of Seoul, so Dad and I had sought refuge in this remote place.

Our home, a converted abandoned church, stood alone amidst the dense trees. The nearest village was a thirty-minute drive away, and the city was a solid hour's journey.

This forest, with no specific name, had become my world. It was an enigmatic, exclusive space that had preserved my adolescence and held all my memories.

It was my home, my everything.