Flicker.
Yeonwoo, who had been sleeping peacefully, suddenly opened her eyes wide.
She sat up, straightened the clothes that had ridden up her stomach, and tidied her hair.
She was imitating her grandmother, who would tidy her hair, clothes, and face the moment she woke up.
Then Yeonwoo glanced around.
Today was Christmas.
Surely Santa must have left presents?
“Ah!”
Yeonwoo soon spotted the pile of gifts under her bed and bolted upright.
With a fluttering heart, she scanned the presents and opened the largest one first.
“A keyboard!”
While composing music, she’d realized the more keyboards she had, the better.
Each had a different key feel and slightly varied sounds… Honestly, she just loved collecting colorful ones with unique designs.
“What’s this?”
But does Santa really give multiple presents?
She wasn’t sure.
She’d never received so many before.
Yeonwoo unwrapped the second package.
“Hehe.”
It was a child-sized headset.
Lately, she’d started using headsets to capture precise sounds, but this one was smaller.
Santa must’ve considered her needs.
And finally, the last gift.
Yeonwoo’s heart began pounding.
Carefully peeling back the wrapping, she revealed the contents.
“Emperor King Saurus!!”
But there was more.
Mecharoptos King, Saurus Force’s second combined mecha, and Dragonburst, the third!
Even the transformation machine and Saurus Sword were included!!
Every Saurus Force toy was here.
“But why’s it in Japanese?”
The box’s text was puzzlingly in Japanese, not Korean.
Well, Santa probably sourced it from Japan.
Shrugging it off, Yeonwoo smiled contentedly at her haul.
“Yeonwoo, are you up?”
Heo-ok’s voice echoed outside, having heard her rustling.
“Yes!!”
Yeonwoo hastily gathered the torn wrapping and dashed out.
“Grandma!! Santa gave me lots of presents!”
“Really? He must’ve rewarded you for being so good and not crying.”
“Hehe. Where’s Auntie and Dad?”
“Dad’s eating breakfast!”
Ji-hoon’s voice rang from the kitchen.
Yeonwoo tossed the wrapping into recycling and entered.
Ji-hoon, hair tousled like a magpie’s nest, sipped coffee while eating ham-and-egg toast.
“Want me to make you toast, Yeonwoo?”
“I can do it.”
She placed bread in the toaster and chattered:
“Dad! Santa gave me Emperor King Saurus and his friends! They even combine! I only asked for one to avoid burdening him, but he read my mind!”
Words spilled out the moment she saw him.
“I’ll show my friends at daycare!”
“Sure, but did Grandma approve bringing toys?”
“Grandma, can I take them?”
“Hmm… You’re graduating soon.”
“What’s graduation?”
No one had told her.
Her daycare stint had been brief, and adults hadn’t emphasized its significance.
“You’ll finish daycare to start elementary school.”
“What?! I can’t go anymore? Or see my friends?!”
Heo-ok hurriedly added:
“But you’ll meet new friends there! It’s ten times bigger!”
“Oh…”
As Yeonwoo absorbed this, Ji-hoon interjected:
“We should prepare for school—backpack, supplies…”
“I’ll buy the backpack! A randoseru!”
While Ji-hoon spoke, Himari—who’d rushed to Korea with robots, slept in Jiyoung’s room due to lacking lodging—entered the kitchen.
“A randoseru? What’s that? Do they call backpacks randoseru in Japan?” Ji-hoon asked. Instead of Himari, Heo-ok answered.
“In Japan, a randoseru is the backpack you have to carry when you’re in elementary school. [Himari, in Korea, we don’t use randoseru in elementary schools.]”
The randoseru, derived from the Dutch word “ransel,” was a mandatory schoolbag for Japanese elementary students. It looked somewhat like a military backpack, overly large and thick for children to carry, heavy in weight, and exorbitantly priced, which had sparked debates about consumerism. In Korea, it was once a remnant of Japanese colonial rule, and older adults often recalled similar bags as something only the wealthy used.
At the mention of not using randoseru, Himari’s eyes widened.
“Teacher, what kind of backpack do they use then? I’d like to give one as a gift.”
“They just use regular backpacks. By the way, your pronunciation has really improved, Himari.”
“Yes, talking and messaging with Yeon-woo has helped my Korean pronunciation.”
“I see.”
Himari had arrived late at night after hastily booking a flight due to her sudden trip to Korea and only managed to have a proper conversation with Heo-ok this morning. Last night, they couldn’t talk for fear of waking Yeon-woo, who wakes up easily.
“Anyway! Yeon-woo, Aunt Himari will buy your first elementary school backpack! Is that okay?”
“Yes, Aunt Himari.”
“Then what should this auntie do? Should I buy you sneakers or something?”
As the adults discussed Yeon-woo’s upcoming elementary school enrollment while he played with his robot, he suddenly stopped and asked them,
“But what do you do on Christmas?”
“Good question. What do we do on Christmas?”
“Himari unnie, what do you do in Japan?”
“Our country? Christmas isn’t a holiday there. But usually couples go out and have fun. Oh, we eat KFC chicken.”
“You eat KFC chicken? On Christmas? That’s unusual. Why is that?”
“Who knows?”
“Come to think of it, unless you’re religious, there doesn’t seem to be anything specific you have to do on Christmas.”
Listening to the adults’ conversation, Yeon-woo nodded his head. It seemed like just a day off—nothing more or less.
“Hey, aren’t you dating anyone? You’re just going to stay home on Christmas?” Ji-hoon asked his sister while quietly listening to the conversation.
At that remark, Ji-young flared up.
“When do I even have time to date these days?! I’m swamped with making VVX!!”
“As far as I know, it’s been about ten years since you last dated……”
Unable to hold back any longer, Ji-young threw her toast at Ji-hoon. With quick reflexes, Ji-hoon caught it and said,
“Fine then. Why are you getting so mad?”
“Really now! Yeon-woo is watching—what kind of behavior is that at the dinner table?”
Seeing her brother and mother ganging up on her, Ji-young abruptly stood up from her seat.
“I’m not eating!!”
“Are you going on a hunger strike at almost forty years old?”
“You go date someone! I married music!”
“Oh really?”
Ji-young stormed off to her room while Ji-hoon chuckled at her reaction until Yeon-woo asked him:
“Dad, are you going to date someone?”
“Huh? What?”
For a moment, Ji-hoon was speechless.
Seeing his father like that, Yeon-woo said:
“I’m okay with it. You should date someone too.”
“Hey, Yeon-woo, do you know what dating is?”
“Yeah, isn’t it just playing with your girlfriend? I play well with Yeon-seo, Jia, and Yena too!”
Though he seemed to be revealing himself as a playboy, Yeon-woo didn’t really understand what dating was. Nowadays, kids start having girlfriends from kindergarten, but since Yeon-woo started daycare late, he didn’t even have that concept yet. Ji-hoon wondered if it was too early to explain things like gender differences and romantic relationships to Yeon-woo.
Time really flies by scarily fast.
It feels like Christmas was just yesterday, but in the blink of an eye, the new year has arrived.
Yeon-woo is now seven years old.
Technically, he’ll be seven after his birthday, but anyway, he’s reached the age to enter elementary school.
Everyone feels excited and makes new resolutions for the year, but in reality, not much has changed except for the calendar year turning over.
After spending one day of the holiday, most adults head back to work, including Shin Ji-hoon, who is a section chief at a major company that many would envy—but with great responsibility comes great pressure as well.
Arriving at work an hour early, Shin Ji-hoon prepares for his day and studies until 9 a.m., mainly focusing on English conversation. Recently, he’s also been studying Japanese since they started doing business with Japan.
Then his workday begins.
Now, with a somewhat competent assistant manager, employees, and a still clueless new hire, we're preparing for a new project.
No matter how hard we worked, that insane department head would often ruin everything, but now that’s over.
The department head—who faced a crossroads between executive promotion, remaining in his role until retirement, or getting fired—was ultimately let go. Whether due to his awful personality or his inability to do anything beyond squeezing subordinates, everyone knew the truth.
He claims he left voluntarily after receiving an executive offer from a small-to-medium company, but no one believes it.
Regardless, the rumors circulating since last year’s second half have materialized, triggering an impending major reshuffle.
The deputy manager position follows the same turbulence.
Jihun, currently a section chief, qualifies for promotion to deputy manager. However, having achieved his current rank earlier than peers, he held little expectation.
Then the unexpected happened.
He outperformed seniors years his senior, securing the promotion spot. In days, he’ll become deputy manager.
Is this good?
Not exactly.
The pay raise is welcome, but new responsibilities multiply. He’s already handling deputy-level work yet must study relentlessly to fill knowledge gaps.
Overtime becomes inevitable.
He yearns to see his beloved son—reclaimed through immense effort—as soon as possible, but reality complicates this.
“Ugh…”
Lost in work, he suddenly noticed the time: 8 PM.
By now, his son would have returned home from his studio, either eating dinner or finished and playing. Lately, a toy robot consumed the boy’s attention, replacing the music he once adored…
Though Jihun’s sibling occasionally shares videos, it’s no substitute for seeing him in person.
Just then, as if sensing his thoughts, his far-from-dignified sibling sent a KakaoTalk message:
[Brother, Yeonwoo’s new composition is up. Did you see?]
Jihun glanced at his smartphone.
Though not Yeonwoo’s own channel, he recalled notifications from the Hyungnimban Teacher’s Channel where Yeonwoo’s songs and arrangements were featured.
After confirming only subordinates remained nearby, Jihun inserted a wireless earbud.
A song began—one mirroring his current state.
How does a kid who’s never even worked a day create something like this?
Title…?
Composed by Yeonwoo, with lyrics painstakingly crafted by Chae Hayoung and Jo Soyeon, the track was titled “Hang in There, Today Too.”
It felt like his son speaking directly to him, reigniting Jihun’s resolve.
[Hey bro?]
[Stop leaving me on read. Reply!]
[Mr. Shin Jihun?]
[HEY!]
…Jihun ignored the messages, wholly absorbed in his son’s music.
