UNKNOWN GUEST

#102 The Closure

The streets were alive with the hum of activity, people bustling about, most of them on their way home after a long day at work. The low glow of streetlights barely pierced through the fading twilight, casting everything in a warm, dim hue.

I stood at the edge of the sidewalk, watching the rush of people for a moment, then glanced over to where Mr. Chul's restaurant was. From a distance, I could see the entrance bustling with customers coming in and out, the cozy light from the inside spilling onto the pavement.

I debated stopping by, but seeing how busy the place was, I knew it wasn't the right time to disturb him. Before I could turn away, a small voice called out from behind me.

"Ben samchon!"
(Ben uncle!)*

I turned and saw Ji-seon standing on the sidewalk, waving at me excitedly. Her bright eyes lit up as soon as she caught my gaze. I couldn't help but smile, my heart softening despite the storm raging inside me. I walked up to her, forcing the tension out of my shoulders.

"Ji-seon-a, annyeong." I greeted her, crouching slightly to meet her eyes. She grinned widely, her playful energy infectious.
(Ji-seon, hi.)*

"Samchon, eodie gasyeoss-eoyo?" she asked, her voice filled with childlike curiosity.
(Uncle, where have you been?)*

I sighed internally, knowing there was no way she'd understand the weight of what I was dealing with. I kept my tone light, offering her a smile. "Jeoneun sa-eob-eul jom haessseubnida," I replied vaguely, brushing it off. No point in explaining something even I couldn't wrap my head around. 
(I had some business.)*

Ji-seon giggled, bouncing on her feet, "Ehe. Samchon, dangsin-eun na-ege jeongsig-eulo malsseumhasineun geoyeyo. Jeoneun samchonboda eoligeodeun-yo." She teased, playfully claiming she was more mature than I gave her credit for.
( Ehe. Uncle, you're talking to me so formally. I'm younger than you, you know.)*

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Geugeon naega dangsin-eul maeu jongyeonghandaneun tteus-iya," I countered, still amazed at how sharp she was for her age.
(That means I respect you very much.)

I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of what I had to do next, then reached into my pocket and pulled out a small folded note. I handed it to her, "jiseon-a, appahante jul su issni?"
(Ji-seon, can you give it to dad?)*

She tilted her head curiously, taking the note from my hand. "Ige mwongayo?" she asked, examining it like it held some hidden treasure.
(What is this?)*

I gave a small shrug, "Pyeonji."
(Letter)*

She laughed, her face lighting up with the simplicity of the answer. I sighed again, realizing just how hard it would be to say goodbye, even for a short while. I placed a hand on her shoulder, meeting her eyes. "Jal deul-eo, Ji-seon-a. Josimhae. Gongbu yeolsimhi hae. Appa gwichanhge haji ma, al-assji?"
(Listen carefully, Ji-seon. Take care. Study well. Don't trouble your dad. Alright?)*

Her smile faltered slightly, and she frowned, sensing something in my tone. "Tteonasinayo?" she asked, her voice soft, unsure.
(Are you leaving?)*

I nodded. "eonje dol-aoljineun moleugessjiman aju olaen sigan-i geollil geolaneun geon al-ayo."
(I am not sure when I will come back. But it will be a long time.)*

I wasn't sure how much she would understand, but Ji-seon, being the perceptive kid she was, nodded with a quiet understanding far beyond her years. She looked up at me with those wide, sincere eyes and smiled again, but this time it was softer. "Algessseubnida, samchon. Yeohaeng jal danyeooseyo. Geuligo dasi chaj-awajuseyo."
(Alright, uncle. Have a nice trip. And see you again soon.)*