Annyeongz One-shots

127. Still Him

The oil from the pan crackled loudly under the night air.

Smoke curled upward from the small roadside food stall while cars sped past only a few meters away, headlights flashing against the damp pavement. The smell of spicy tteokbokki sauce mixed with rain and exhaust fumes clung to the air.

A tall boy stood behind the stall counter, sleeves rolled up to his elbows despite the cold wind.

Ahn Yujin.

Twenty years old.

Too young to look that tired.

His black cap hid part of his messy hair while a black apron hung loosely around his lean body. Even with exhaustion painted all over him, people still stared at him whenever they passed by. He was tall, broad-shouldered, unfairly handsome with sharp eyes and soft lips that rarely smiled anymore.

But his hands…

His hands looked older than him.

Burn marks.

Small cuts.

Dry skin from washing dishes with cheap soap every day.

“Hyung, two more tteokbokki!”

Yujin immediately turned around.

“Coming.”

His voice was calm. Gentle.

Always gentle.

No matter how exhausted he was.

He moved quickly between the boiling pots, stirring the sauce while preparing fish cakes at the same time. Sweat slid down the side of his neck under the humid heat.

It was already midnight.

He had started working since six in the morning.

His back hurt badly.

But he ignored it.

Because hurting was normal now.

The small roadside stall belonged to his mother. Years ago, she used to be the one cooking here every day with a loud laugh and warm smile that attracted customers naturally.

But now she stayed at home.

Too weak to even stand for long.

Sometimes she coughed blood when Jungwon wasn't looking.

Yujin saw it once.

He never told her.

And she pretended not to notice him quietly throwing away the bloody tissues afterward.

Everything in their house depended on him now.

Rent.

Water bills.

Electricity.

Medicine.

Jungwon’s school fees.

Food.

Everything.

Yujin dropped out of school when he was sixteen.

At first, he told himself it would only be temporary.

Just until his mother recovered.

Just until things got stable again.

But four years passed already.

And life only became harder.

“Yujin-ah.”

One of the regular customers handed him empty bowls.