Mint Is Pure Love - Chapter 27

My grandma collapsed.

She was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, and a week later, she came back the same way—on a stretcher. Her body stiff and unmoving, her lips twisted, she was laid out on a mattress in the master bedroom.

The adults said it was a stroke. Just a week ago, she’d been chewing on raw rice like it was candy. But now, she couldn’t eat, use the bathroom, or even move without help. The fierce, hawk-like presence she once had—completely gone.

“I don’t care if she’s dying, I won’t be the one who dumps her in a nursing home!”

“Then what do you expect me to do?! Take care of three kids and a bedridden mother-in-law by myself?!”

“She’s your mother! If anyone’s going to a care home, it’ll be you!”

That’s the kind of shouting that came from behind closed doors. Talk of divorce. Of leaving, but not without taking the kids. Then more talk. Calmer, quieter.

In the end, it was my stepmom who gave in.

“Don’t. Let me handle it.”

Whenever I tried to help, even a little, she’d wave me off.

She spoon-fed grandma porridge through her half-paralyzed mouth, changed her diapers, dressed her, cleaned her—without a word of complaint.

And honestly, it drove me crazy.

“Why do you even live like this?”

Why not just get a divorce or break down and cry or something?

“Dad doesn’t even care about us! He wouldn’t come looking if you took us and ran. So why are you suffering like this for him?!”

I knew I was taking it out on the wrong person. Still, I couldn’t stop myself. Stepmom kept wiping Grandma’s stiff limbs, never even looking at me when she finally said,

“Just… don’t live like this, okay? You. Don’t end up like me.”

I went to my dad’s office and threw a fit. Screamed, cried, demanded he do something—anything. What if stepmom ends up paralyzed too?

As always, he just clicked his tongue and left the room like I was being annoying. His secretary handed me a juice and told me to calm down. “Kids shouldn’t get involved in adult stuff,” she said.

Only after ten straight days of caregiving did someone finally hire a daytime helper. It was only then that some color came back to stepmom’s face.

Seeing Grandma like that left me with mixed feelings.

Part of me wanted to roll my eyes and say, Figures. Causing trouble till the very end. But the other part… couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. This woman who once barked orders and moved nonstop—how had she ended up so helpless?

And really, how could I not feel both?

Grandma was the second person I ever truly hated. The only woman I ever fought back against. And yet… she’d also been the one to raise me.

I was staring blankly at her unmoving form when my phone rang. It was past 8 PM. Only one person would be calling me this late.

“…Hello?”

—”It’s me.”

“Hey, Seokyung.”

— “Can you come outside for a bit?”

The air was heavy with humidity from the rain earlier. When I stepped out the front gate, I saw the clean lines of Seokyung’s neck, lit by the streetlamp’s orange glow.

He turned around when I called his name.

We sat together on the front steps. The soft scent of his soap drifted in with the breeze. His eyes scanned my face with that usual quiet attention.

“Did you cry?”

“Me? No… I didn’t cry.”

I hadn’t. Just sniffled a bit. The kind you get when your heart feels a little spicy.

“Why’d you come?”

“No reason. Just… thought of you.”

He said it like it was nothing. Just a simple truth. And then we sat there quietly for a while. The air was chilly from the rain, and I rubbed my arms over the short sleeves of my T-shirt.

Without a word, Seokyung slipped off his light mint button-up and draped it over my shoulders.

“You’ll get cold too.”

He was also wearing short sleeves, so I tried to refuse, but he insisted.

“Just scoot a little closer.”

Then he moved in first, sitting right next to me.

“You too. C’mon.”

“…Alright.”

I shuffled a little closer, just enough to obey. Our shoulders brushed, close enough to feel the heat from each other’s skin.

We’d started the spring ten steps apart, and now, we were two finger-widths away. Funny how that happened.

“How are you holding up?”

“Grandma? She’s the same.”

The day she came back from the hospital, I’d told him everything. Her collapse had shaken me.

In my memory, she was someone who never changed. Loud, stubborn, immovable. And suddenly… not.

“No, not her,” he said. “I meant you, Ji Yeonseo. How are you doing?”

The way he looked at me made me wonder again—why do you care so much, Seokyung? Whether it was the day he said he wanted to be my friend, or now, saying he’d just be “like air,” his face hadn’t changed once.

Always calm. Always steady.

Even his jokes had a dry, matter-of-fact feel. He never acted like the other boys who tried to win me over with flash and flair. It made things confusing.

He was so emotionally restrained, so neutral.

I used to think if I told him, “I never want to see you again,” he’d just nod and walk away, without even looking back.

Was he lonely too? Maybe he just needed someone.

But no—that didn’t make sense. Everyone wanted to be close to Seokyung. He could have anyone he wanted, and they’d be proud to have him.

So… what color was the feeling he had toward me?

Love is red. Dignity is purple. White means innocence. Black is sadness. Yellow is hope. Emotions have colors.

But whatever Seokyung felt—it was hard to name. It lived in some in-between space. Not green. Not blue. Maybe this soft mint shade I was wrapped in now.

“Is it really hard right now?”

His eyes studied me—quiet, thoughtful, patient. And for the first time, I realized… I liked the way he looked at me.

I’d told myself to keep things casual. No labels. But now, I found myself wondering—what does he want us to be?

In his long, soft gaze, I could see myself. And then, gently, he said:

“Yeonseo… I just want to know. Are you okay?”

For some reason, my heart thudded hard in my chest.

“I… I’m just…”

He waited. Didn’t push. Gave me space.

And maybe that’s when I realized how hard it had always been to talk about what was inside me. Only after meeting him did I notice that.

I never told anyone about the nightmares—where people hated me for being “Ji Yeonseo,” where the moment they learned who I was, everything changed. I never said those things aloud. Not to anyone.

To most people, it was just teenage angst. A phase. Something you’re supposed to get over. Or worse, something that would make them sad if I brought it up.

But sitting next to Seokyung—with the warmth of his arm, the smell of his shirt, and his quiet breathing—I felt like maybe, just once, I could open up.

My heart settled a little.

“Right now… the woman I call Mom? She’s actually my stepmom.”

“I know. You call her that every day. Honestly… I always thought that was kind of amazing.”

“What was?”

He paused like he was searching for the right words. Something rare for him.

“There are things most people would want to hide. But you… you never seem to hide anything.”

I just figured there was no point. It’s stuff people would eventually find out anyway.

“My real mom died when I was one. But apparently, my grandfather hated her.”

She wasn’t the kind of woman my dad’s family wanted. They said she forced her way in by getting pregnant.

“My grandfather didn’t even look at me after I was born. Said girls were worthless. Said I was just like her—annoying and unwanted. Honestly, it’s like my whole family worships men or something. What century do they think this is?”

After my mom died, my grandfather wanted to send me to an orphanage. And my dad—he didn’t even argue. Just stood there.

But Grandma… the same grandma I hated—she stepped in and raised me. Even though she was obsessed with men and all that backwards stuff… she raised me anyway.

“I hated her, but… I can’t hate her all the way. She said awful things to me, but if she truly meant all of it, she wouldn’t have taken care of me.”

It was because of her that I started wondering—maybe the people who hurt me have their own reasons. Maybe hate isn’t all there is in their hearts.

“I’m mad at her… but I feel sorry for her too. And now that she’s weak and sick, I can’t even be properly angry anymore.”

Using Grandma as a kind of shield, I cracked the door open on my pain. Let just a little bit of it out. For once, I spoke the words aloud. Because Seokyung… he felt like air.

“I think my heart’s… a little hurt, Seokyung.”

The moment I admitted it, that part of me started to burn. All the tiny wounds I’d ignored suddenly made themselves known, screaming to be seen.

I looked ahead, feeling hollow, when I felt it—his cool, steady hand against my cheek. As if he were gently wiping away tears I hadn’t shed.