Chick 364
by Cristae364
On Suhyeong entered the storage room, waving away the floating dust with his hand.
The long-neglected storage smelled old and musty; the airborne dust tickled his throat.
He sneezed loudly, sniffed, and called out,
“Ijo, have you found it?”
Digging through boxes, On Ijo stood up with excitement, grinning.
“Father, do you remember this? I cried because I said this was a duck and not a chick.”
“I remember. I searched all over the stores to find a chick, and in the end, I never did.”
On Suhyeong clicked his tongue at the memory.
“When you were little, you were so particular about your toys. Your mother had a hard time trying to buy the right thing for you.”
“Hahaha!”
On Ijo laughed out loud, clearly amused by the memory.
“I must have been a rotten kid even back then. But how do you still have all this?”
On Suhyeong gave a faint smile.
He hadn’t thrown away a single thing belonging to his children.
It was his late wife’s stubbornness, born from the struggles she went through because of their eldest’s finicky tastes. Even if they bought exactly the same toy, it was never quite right for him…
And since she always said everything would become a memory in the end, he’d always just thought it fortunate their storage shed was big.
As On Ijo pulled out an old soccer ball and grinned widely, On Suhyeong found himself smiling gently too.
‘You were right, after all.’
He’d only come searching to find something for his granddaughter’s toy hospital, but it turned out the place was filled with memories he’d forgotten.
At that moment, On Ijo picked up a robot toy and dusted it off.
“This is it! Found it!”
“Really?”
“As expected, it doesn’t make any sound. And it doesn’t combine, either.”
On Suhyeong gazed at the two robots On Ijo was playing with.
These were…
Chapter — Joorim’s Toy
The bazaar had opened again.
Along the edge of the schoolyard, small booths set up by the children lined both sides.
Crowds bustled about in noisy excitement.
But the booth where Hyeoyeon, Groo, and Wooju sat side by side was quiet. There wasn’t a customer—or even the shadow of a fly.
It was Guh Hyeoyeon, her face sulky, who finally broke the silence.
“That’s why I told you, Hyeoyeon said: ‘Toy doctors aren’t popular—let’s do chick labor instead.’”
“Well, we could still do chick labor…”
Groo seemed tempted, but Wooju quickly intervened.
“The teacher said no chick labor.”
As Pond Class’s most notorious member, On Groo had had her bazaar concept specially approved by the teacher beforehand.
“Filial snacks? That’s not allowed.”
“Chick labor? What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re collecting protection fees from other booths? Absolutely not.”
“Chick finance? No way!”
After bulldozing through all those refusals, the only thing she’d managed to get permission for was the toy hospital.
Wooju was actually quite fond of the toy hospital—it seemed pretty legitimate. Hyeoyeon, however, was clearly dissatisfied.
“Instead of chick labor, let’s just do chick contractors.”
“Ooh—”
Groo was impressed by Guh Hyeoyeon’s evasive skill, but Wooju let out a sigh.
“Why not just do the toy hospital and not get in trouble?”
“There aren’t any customers.”
Guh Hyeoyeon glared at the neighboring booth.
There, the Squirrel Class kids were selling toys, attracting so many customers their business was booming. She was clearly envious.
The three of them watched, a bit jealous, as the other booth’s customers went off with arms full of toys.
The excited laughter of the children in the neighboring booth floated over to Groo’s booth.
“Aren’t there any toys to fix?”
“Dummy, it’s better to buy something new than to get something fixed.”
As Wooju lamented this, Hyeoyeon chided her.
Right then, Groo spoke up.
“I’ll bring some customers!”
“How?”
“If there’s no sick toy coming to the hospital, then we just have to make one!”
Groo smiled brightly, picking up a toy drill.
“Oooh—”
As she made a sound like a cat, the drill began to whir.
Wooju’s jaw dropped open in shock.
Groo nodded with a mischievous smile.
“Hyeoyeon, let’s go. Bring your tools.”
“Yep.”
Hyeoyeon, expression determined, picked up a toy spanner.
Wooju’s eyes went wide, her pupils shaking as she tried to stop them.
“That’s not being a doctor! That’s being a toy killer!”
Groo, holding the drill, paused for a moment, then struck a pose.
“A killer… Maybe that’s not so bad…”
Guh Hyeoyeon, holding the spanner, mirrored her pose at Groo’s side.
“Toy Killers.”
Back to back, the two of them, bathed in darkness and armed with tools, struck a sharp pose.
Watching Groo strike such a fierce look, Wooju blushed deeply.
‘Killer Groo is kind of cool…!’
Just as the trio was about to change professions,
A tall shadow fell over them.
Could it be the teacher? Wooju nervously half-rose from her seat.
“Is this the toy hospital?”
“Grandpa!”
At Groo’s cry, Wooju blinked in surprise.
Standing there was Chairman On Suhyeong himself.
“I’ve brought a patient. Are you open for business?”
“Yes, we have a patient—Nurse Seo, take over.”
Nurse Seo (Seo Wooju) stood and received the patient.
There were two old robots.
The worn-out robots, patched all over with box tape, had paint peeling off and loose, wobbly joints.
“They’re supposed to combine and have recording functions, but no matter how I change the batteries, nothing works right. Doctor, do you think you can fix them?”
“Ah…”
Wooju stared intently at the robots in her hands, and whispered to Groo.
“Doctor, the patient’s in serious condition…”
“Hey, Nurse Seo. The guardian can hear you.”
Wooju glanced quickly at On Suhyeong.
He gave a gentle, reassuring smile.
Groo immediately picked up a magnifying glass and began a detailed examination of the two robots.
Both arms hung limp, the joints stubborn and stiff, the buttons half-recessed and no longer pressing in. Only faint scratch marks remained where the eyes had once been.
“These look really old. Are they your toys, Grandpa?”
On Suhyeong burst out laughing.
“They are old, but they’re not mine. These are Joorim’s.”
“Dad’s?!”
Groo’s eyes went wide.
Dad, playing with robots?
She’d never imagined such a thing.
Groo handled the robots carefully, pushing the buttons and examining them with both hands.
“Dad… used to play with these?”
Her tone was incredulous. On Suhyeong smiled quietly and nodded his head.
“Of course. Joorim was never picky about toys at all, but these were something special to him.”
As he spoke, recalling old memories, On Suhyeong’s smile faded.
Suddenly, an echo of young Joorim’s voice passed through his mind.
“It doesn’t make any sound anymore.”
Joorim must have been exactly Groo’s age then.
No matter what they bought or what broke, Joorim was always undemanding—this was the first thing he ever truly cherished, but On Suhyeong had not realized it at the time.
“Really? Should I buy you a new one just like it?”
“They don’t make this model anymore.”
“Then I’ll get you a bigger, better one.”
“……”
He tried to recall the expression Joorim had worn as he bowed his head then.
After Joorim’s mother—unlike with Ijo—hadn’t been able to take care of him as closely, On Suhyeong had meant to be more attentive…
But the excuse of being too busy was the only thought that lingered, full of regret and guilt.
“Do you think you can fix them?”
Groo put the stethoscope to the robot’s chest with a grave expression.
For some reason, On Suhyeong watched her anxiously.
Groo examined the robots from all angles, then gestured.
“Nurse Goo.”
Nurse Goo (Goo Hyeoyeon) stepped forward with a tablet for On Suhyeong.
“This is the surgical consent form. Please read and sign at the bottom.”
They even had a consent form—how thorough. Smiling, On Suhyeong took the tablet.
The document included various cautions and disclaimers.
He read through lines like “The toy may not be restored to its original condition,” and “The hospital accepts no liability if the toy is lost beyond repair,” then signed at the bottom.
No liability for the hospital—somehow, knowing his granddaughter was so practical made Grandpa feel nothing but pride.