Seo-yeon's phone buzzed at seven in the morning. It was a message from Yoongi
"Good morning. Did you sleep well? Did you eat? Did you take your vitamins?"
She smiled at the screen. He sounded like her mother.
"Yes, yes and yes," she typed. "Don't worry."
"I can't help it. When is your next checkup?"
She frowned and thought. "Tomorrow, actually. The doctor said twins need closer monitoring, so she scheduled a short follow-up."
The three dots appeared and disappeared twice.
"Can I come?"
She stared at the message for a long time. Then she typed, "Are you sure? What about your schedule?"
'I'll clear it. I want to be there."
"What about people recognizing you?"
"I'll wear a mask and a cap. I'll come in through the back. I'll do anything. Please."
She put down the phone, thought about it for a while and realized that she would love for him to follow her for her check up.
"Okay," she typed. "Ten o'clock."
---
She told her parents at breakfast. Her mom nodded and said nothing. Her dad folded his newspaper into a very small square.
"He's coming with you," he said.
"Yes, Daddy."
"To the hospital."
"Yes."
"Alone? Without us?"
"We'll be fine, Daddy. It's only a short appointment."
"I could drive," he said. "I could wait outside."
"Honey," her mom said gently.
"I'm only offering."
"Let her go," her mom said. "They need time together to sort things out
"
He grumbled something about thirty-two being too old and went back to his newspaper. When Seo-yeon kissed his cheek on the way out, he said, without looking up, "Tell him to drive carefully."
---
The gray sedan was waiting at the corner when she arrived. Yoongi got out and opened the door for her. He wore a black mask, a cap pulled low and a plain jacket, and he looked so ordinary that nobody on the street gave him a second glance.
"Good morning," he said, and his eyes smiled above the mask.
"Good morning."
"How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Tired. Hungry."
"I brought food." He gestured to the back seat. There was a paper bag and a thermos. "Porridge, a sandwich and warm milk. I didn't know what you wanted, so I got everything."
She laughed. "You didn't have to."
"I wanted to."
She ate the sandwich on the way, and he drove with both hands tight on the wheel, checking the mirror every few seconds. When they reached the hospital, he took a side street and parked behind the building.
"The back entrance," he said. "The manager had helped me arrange it with the hospital. Only the doctor and one nurse know I'm coming."
"Your manager knows?"
"I told him I needed a private appointment. He didn't ask why." He cleared his throat. "He will, eventually."
---
The nurse met them at a quiet door and led them through a corridor without patients. In the examination room, the doctor, the calm woman in her forties, was waiting with a folder in her hand. She looked at Seo-yeon, then at the tall man in the mask beside her.
"Miss Han. And this is..."
Minjae pulled down his mask. "Min Yoongi. I'm the father."
The doctor's face didn't change, but her eyebrows rose a little. "Welcome, Mr. Min. We'll keep this discreet. Please sit."
He took the chair next to the bed and held his cap in both hands. His knee was bouncing.
"Lie down, Miss Han," the doctor said. "This will be quick. I want to check their growth and their heartbeats."
Seo-yeon lay back. The gel was cold, and she flinched.
"Sorry," the doctor said. "It always is."
The probe moved across her skin, and the screen lit up gray. Seo-yeon watched Yoongi instead of the screen. He was leaning forward, his lips parted, his eyes fixed.
"There," the doctor said. "That's the first one."
A small shape appeared. It had a round head, a tiny spine and two folded arms. It was much bigger than at the first scan, and it was moving.
"Is it..." Yoongi's voice cracked. "Is that one moving?"
"Yes. That's the girl. She's very active. Look." The doctor pointed. "She's waving."
A tiny hand lifted and opened and closed.
Yoongi made a small sound in his throat. He put a hand over his mouth.
"And here is the boy." She moved the probe. A second shape came into view, curled on its side, with its knees pulled up. "He's a little calmer. He's mostly sleeping."
"He gets that from you," Seo-yeon whispered. "You said you sleep all the time."
"I do not."
"Jimin told me. In the car, you said..."
"When did I say that?"
"I'm joking."
He laughed, a short breathless sound, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.
"Would you like to hear their heartbeats?" the doctor asked.
"Yes," they said together.
She pressed a button. The room filled with a fast, steady rhythm, like a small drum. A moment later a second one joined it, a little quicker, a little off the beat.
Yoongi sat completely still. His eyes went wide, and his fingers tightened on the edge of the chair.
"That's them," he whispered. "That's both of them."
"That's both of them," the doctor said. "Strong and healthy. The girl's heart rate is about a hundred and fifty, and the boy's is a little lower. Both are in the normal range."
He didn't answer. He kept staring at the screen, listening, and a tear ran down the side of his nose and soaked into the edge of his mask. He didn't wipe it away.
Seo-yeon reached out and took his hand. He held on tightly.
"I can hear them," he said, in a voice she barely recognized. "They're really in there."
"They're really in there."
"Seo-yeon..."
"I know."
The doctor let them listen in silence for a full minute. Then she tapped a few keys, and measurements appeared on the screen. "Their sizes are right on track. The girl weighs about as much as an avocado, and the boy is a little smaller. Everything looks good."
"An avocado," Yoongi repeated, and laughed wetly. "Two avocados."
"They'll grow," the doctor said, smiling. "In a few weeks, we'll do the detailed scan. Miss Han, are you eating well?"
"Yes. My mom is feeding me constantly."
"Good. And your blood pressure?"
"It was normal at the last visit."
"Any pain, bleeding, dizziness?"
"No."
"Then you're doing very well." The doctor looked at Minjae. "Mr. Min, I'll give you the same advice I gave her parents. Keep her calm, keep her fed and keep her from carrying anything heavy."
"I will," he said at once. "I'll carry everything."
"That's not quite what I meant."
"I'll carry it anyway."
Seo-yeon rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
---
The nurse brought a small envelope with printed pictures. The doctor handed it to Seo-yeon, who passed it straight to Yoongi.
"These are for you."
He opened it with careful fingers. Inside were four grainy gray images. In the first, the girl was waving. In the second, the boy was curled up. In the third, they lay side by side with their faces turned toward each other. In the last, there was only a small arm raised in front of a tiny face.
"This one," he said, holding up the third. "They look like they're talking."
"They probably are."
"What do you think they're saying?"
"Probably complaining that it's cold in there."
He smiled and carefully put the pictures back in the envelope. Then he took out his wallet, slid one picture into the clear pocket where other people kept a photo of their family, and put it away.
"You're going to carry it with you?" she asked.
"Everywhere."
They said thank you to the doctor and the nurse, and walked out through the quiet corridor to the back door. Outside, the morning sun was warm. Yoongi put on his mask and cap again, but he didn't open the car door right away.
"Seo-yeon."
"Yes?"
"I want to do this every time. Every checkup. Every appointment."
"You have a schedule. You have a group."
"I'll make time."
"Yoongi..."
"I missed the first four months." His eyes above the mask were serious. "I'm not going to miss any more."
She looked at him for a long moment. Then she nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay. Every time."
He let out a breath, and his shoulders loosened. He opened the car door, and she got in. Before he started the engine, he took the envelope out of the glove compartment and looked at the pictures one more time.
"Avocados," he muttered, shaking his head. "I'm going to be a father to two avocados."
"They'll be very upset when they hear that."
"Then I won't tell them." He started the car and grinned behind his mask. "Let's get you some lunch. And not a sandwich this time."