How long did it take humanity to conquer the skies?
From what I know, the first powered airplane was the Flyer 1, created by the Wright brothers, who revolutionized aviation and allowed humanity to touch the heavens.
It’s astounding that in less than 200 years, airplanes have developed to the point of dominating the skies.
As we headed toward Incheon Airport, I shared this bit of trivia with my sister, Yoon.
"And that’s why the best thing is to avoid flying altogether."
"Why does your conclusion end up like that, Oppa?"
Because once you experience a plane crash, you’ll never want to fly again.
People have an odd way of rationalizing risk.
If a perfectly functional plane suddenly crashes, killing 200 people, anyone hearing the news would seriously question whether they should travel abroad.
But car accidents? People shrug them off like they’re no big deal, even though they can be just as sudden and fatal.
"Oppa, be honest with me."
"About what?"
Yoon’s eyes glinted mischievously as she smirked.
"Are you afraid of flying?"
The vein in my forehead throbbed.
"Afraid? Me? What’s there to be scared of?"
My lips trembled slightly as I turned my gaze out the window.
We were currently on the highway, approaching the toll gate.
Soon, we’d arrive at the chaotic Incheon Airport.
Yoon, Mom, and even Dad, who was sneaking glances at me through the rearview mirror, all seemed to enjoy my discomfort.
No, seriously, Dad, keep your eyes on the road.
"Son~. Are you scared of planes?"
"...Can we not?"
This family really just wants to tease me, huh?
I should’ve known better than to bring up planes, especially after being baited by Yoon.
"But Oppa, how tall are you again?"
"Late 170s?"
"Pfft, sure, you’re 174. I know."
Then why did you ask, dear sister? You already knew...
"Ha! Not much of a difference."
"...And how tall are you?"
"168. Pretty amazing, right?"
Considering Yoon was only 13, her height was undeniably impressive.
At this rate, she might end up becoming an idol or an actress.
Honestly... I kind of wish she’d stop growing. How can a brother be shorter than his little sister?
What happened to my adorable, tiny little sister?
Well, she’s still cute, but... her height’s not.
"Why did all of Dad’s genes go to you?"
They say sons take after their mothers, and daughters take after their fathers.
"Then maybe you should’ve been born as a girl, Oppa. Hehe."
Ugh, no thanks. I’m fine as I am.
"Maybe if I’d been born as a girl, I’d at least be healthier..."
At Mom’s murmuring from the front seat, both Yoon and I fell silent.
Mom wasn’t in the best mood today.
To understand why, we’d have to go back to this morning.
"Son? Can you come here for a moment?"
It was early in the morning, and I was packing my things when Mom called me from the living room.
I put down the essentials I was holding and walked out to see her holding a piece of paper, smiling brightly.
"Remember the checkup earlier this week? You forgot to pick up the medical report, so I got it for you."
Oh, right. I’d been in such a rush to use the restroom that I’d completely forgotten about it.
We needed the report for insurance purposes.
"Zolair injections! You don’t need them anymore?!"
Mom’s eyes sparkled as she spoke, her excitement radiating.
Ah, I forgot to mention that.
But there wasn’t much point in making a big deal out of it, so I just nodded.
"Yeah, they said I don’t need them anymore."
I scratched my head awkwardly as I replied. Mom’s face lit up with a wide grin.
"Really?! That’s amazing—"
"Son. Lee Ha-Eun."
Dad, who had been reading the report alongside her, suddenly took it from Mom’s hands.
His voice was low and serious. At that moment, I knew I was screwed.
"This... is a medication I’ve never seen before. Care to explain?"
Dad pointed to a name on the report—a newly developed oral form of Zolair.
I tried my best to remain calm, forcing an awkward smile.
"Ah, haha... It’s just a new version of the medication. You probably just hadn’t seen it before—"
"Lee Ha-Eun."
"...Sigh."
No point in lying anymore. Mom always got too excited to double-check the reports thoroughly, but Dad was the complete opposite—calm and meticulous, inspecting every single word on the paper.
I avoided meeting Mom’s gaze. I didn’t want to see her expression.
Still, as their child, I figured I owed them an explanation.
At the very least, I didn’t want Mom to keep blaming herself.
"The Zolair injections are no longer necessary."
If I left it at that, it would sound like my health was improving.
"But they’ve replaced the injections with pills, so there’s a new medication added to the regimen."
If only it had ended there.
"The pills are slightly—just slightly—stronger than the injections."
I emphasized the word slightly, hoping it would ease their worry, even if just a little.
"...I see."
Dad looked at me for a moment before staring at the report again.
After a deep breath, he closed his eyes and finally spoke.
"Haha. Well, Ha-Eun, you should finish packing."
"...Haha. Yeah, I should."
He smiled at me with his usual soft expression, but I could tell something was off.
Is he really okay?
Of course not. I could feel his chest rising and falling erratically, like he was holding back tears.
But what could I say? I quietly turned to head back to my room.
Then, I felt it.
A tight embrace from behind.
Mom, who had been silent until now, wrapped her arms around me and whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"It’s okay. Mom will make sure you get better. I’ll make you healthy again."
Her words were soft but filled with determination.
If anyone was truly hurting here, it was my parents, not me.
Could I even accept this comfort? Was it okay for me to lean on them like this?
I guess I was still too young to understand. To them, I’d always be their baby, no matter how old I got.
Gently, I loosened her grip and turned around with a smile.
"I’m already healthy. You’re the one I’m worried about, Mom."
At my laughter, Mom stared at me for a moment, then smiled back.
Then, as if to lighten the mood, she joked.
"What are you talking about? At least I don’t have heart problems. Whoops."
The house fell silent.
Mom... weren’t we supposed to keep that to ourselves?
Realizing her slip, Mom clapped her hands over her mouth and glanced nervously between Dad and me.
Dad and I exchanged awkward glances before he let out a forced laugh.
"Haha. Yeah, well... I guess Mom is healthier than you now, right, son?"
Trying to match his tone, I swallowed my laughter and nodded.
"Ah, yeah. Right. I should, uh, get back to packing."
And with that, our impromptu interrogation session ended.
Mom’s accidental wide-area stun attack had landed perfectly.
The irony was, she’d been the one to ban heart-problem jokes in the first place.
What a noisy morning it had been.
***
While Mom was sulking about her accidental “stun attack,” Yoon clung to me, shaking me relentlessly.
"Come on! What happened?!"
At the time, Yoon had been sound asleep in her room and missed everything.
I leaned close and whispered in her ear.
"Mom cast a stun spell."
"Mom did what?!"
Yoon couldn’t hold it in and burst into laughter.
Honestly, aside from Mom, the rest of the family could now joke about my condition.
Dad hadn’t been too thrilled at first, but after seeing how nonchalant I was about it, he eventually got used to hearing it and even tolerated the occasional joke.
Yoon, however, found it hilarious.
She wasn’t laughing at my condition itself—she was cracking up because Mom had broken her own rule by saying the forbidden word.
Somehow, there’s nothing funnier in the world than seeing someone break their own rule.
Or maybe there’s a better term for this situation?
Anyway, in our family, Mom was the only one feeling down.
She’d cheer up soon enough after eating something tasty at the airport.
By the way, as I mentioned earlier, Mom’s health had improved a lot compared to mine. It was genuinely a relief.
Dad was ecstatic when they received her health check results.
The two of them were ridiculously close, almost sickeningly so.
Of course, Mom was still weaker than most people and had to take a lot of medication.
But the fact that her condition was improving was fantastic news for our family.
"Terminal 1, right?"
Dad’s voice brought me back to reality. I nodded.
"Yeah. Parking lot P4 for long-term parking."
"Looks like we’ve still got a little way to go."
Dad refocused on the road as we continued driving.
Meanwhile, Mom and Yoon, clearly first-timers at the airport, were marveling at the sights, their eyes sparkling.
It looked like Mom had regained her energy. That was a relief.
The reason our entire family could travel to the U.S. together was simple:
It coincided with Dad’s hard-earned vacation days.
Though, technically, it’s not a vacation—it’s a business trip.
He just called it a vacation to make it sound better.
In reality, Dad would be traveling for work, which was kind of a bummer.
Yoon had been granted an educational leave from her school, but since it was over a month long, her teachers had to make special arrangements.
Not my problem, though. That was between Yoon and her school.
Even Ms. Lee Ah-Reum seemed enthusiastic about our family trip.
She’d even gone so far as to cover the cost of my ticket and those of my family.
Not only that, but while Dad and I would be busy running around, she arranged for a guide to help us explore.
It seemed like Ms. Lee had plenty of money to spare.
We parked the car and entered the airport.
While pulling my suitcase with one hand, I called Ms. Lee on the phone.
"Ms. Lee, where should we go?"
["Head to section H!"]
"Got it."
Navigating through the vast airport, passing the giant yellow signs marked with letters, we finally reached her.
"Over here!"
We met up with Ms. Lee at section H.
After exchanging greetings with my family, we started making our way to the departure area.
As we walked, I sidled up to Ms. Lee and whispered,
"So, what’s my rank?"
"You’re asking because you already know, right?"
"Yes, but it’s nice to hear it directly."
"Fine, fine. Congratulations, Lee Ha-Eun, you’re ranked first overall."
As expected, I’d maintained my top position in the finals a week ago.
First semester rankings: Number one, all grades.
Once again, my first-place title remained unchallenged.
And just yesterday, we’d had the end-of-term ceremony.
Glancing at a clock mounted on the wall as we walked, I realized there were only 20 minutes left until our flight.