choux pastry hearts (2/2)
choux pastry hearts (2/2)
kai/krystal, kai/luna, au, pg, 9523 words
"we are all born insignificant in the face of love." ten years between jongin and soojung.
end story. this was very cathartic to write. i found myself wanting to sob multiple times for them, but i think it's just me. haha.
5
“You mean she called you?” Jongdae put down his shot glass of soju, eyes wide. “What?”
Jongin nodded. They were in a pojangmacha near Jongdae’s new apartment. He had bought it a few months ago, a present for his fiancee and their future nuptial home. Liyin was second generation Chinese-Korean, extremely capable, and the person directly responsible for introducing Sunyoung to him. Jongin would be eternally indebted to her for that. Jongdae looked incredulous before downing another shot.
He had told Jongdae about Soojung only after she had left the first time. Jongdae couldn’t understand why they were even together in the first place. Jongin didn’t have a very good answer for that either, except that he liked Soojung. Enough for him to want and wait for her to come back every time. Jongdae never approved, and never stopped calling him stupid, because Soojung never stopped leaving.
“Does Sunyoung know?” Jongdae appreciated Sunyoung, as he did for all things that Liyin liked and was surrounded by.
“She isn’t back from China yet.” Jongin swirled his shot glass around, still half full with soju. He had cut the line immediately after hearing Soojung’s voice. There was no possible way that he could have said anything after she did. “I don’t think I should tell her. It’s nothing anyway.”
Jongdae looked at him as if he was seeing an extraterrestrial being for the first time. “Nothing? Nothing? Are you crazy?” He banged his glass down for maximum effect, and the lady behind the counter stuck her head out to see if there was anyone drunk and making a scene. Jongdae quickly waved in apology, and turned back to glare at him.
“You spent, what, ten years of your life waiting for her. That’s nothing?”
“That’s--” Jongin struggled to get the words out, “that’s not it. That wasn’t even waiting. I don’t even know what that was anymore.”
As with all things in his life that had to do with Soojung. He hardly knew what to say, but he was sure of one thing--he didn’t want her in his life any more. Not now. Jongdae gaped at him, then poured him another drink. Jongin knocked back another three but still did not feel drunk.
He should have known. Soojung had an uncanny ability to find the things and people she wanted to, most of the time anyway. Jongin stared at the screen of his digital eyehole: Soojung’s hair was in a ponytail, and she was looking back at him. This reminded him uneasily of how they first met. He didn’t want a repeat of that all over again. She pressed on the doorbell again, then two more times, and then three more. She didn’t stop. Sunyoung had set the tune to be a cheerful chirping, but now it pounded in his head and forced him to do what he didn’t want to do.
“Hi, Kim Jongin.”
She smiled at him when the lock lifted up with a mechanical click and he pulled the door open. There was something different to it. She no longer looked like the girl who had to intimidate everyone she met, standing on higher ground just because she could. There was a slight tenseness to her smile, the look in her eyes, and Jongin thought for a moment that she was nervous. The thought slipped away the next moment.
“You’re…” He searched for the right words. Not welcome? Not supposed to be here? It was too difficult. “Back.”
She blinked several times. Her hair was much shorter than he had remembered it to be. Jongin sighed quietly, and pulled the door shut behind him. She didn’t miss that, and looked up at him again, blinking very quickly. She wasn’t this way before. What happened to the girl who would force her way in with words? Maybe it was not just her that had changed--Jongin fiddled with the ring on his middle finger--he had, too.
“Yeah. Taemin said you would be here.” Soojung pulled at the end of her ponytail. He had no idea how she managed to contact Taemin, and why Taemin had betrayed his new address so easily.They stood in silence for a while, Jongin highly aware of the constrained space that they were contained in, mere feet from each other. This used to be intimate, the way they surrounded themselves with each other. Now he wanted to free himself from this, but he was also unwilling to open the door and let her in. Soojung didn’t need to be let in anymore. She couldn’t, not when she had let herself out first.
“How are you? Good?”
He asked, finally. It was a generic question, one that was in territory safe enough. The last time he had seen her was three years ago. Jongin didn’t know if Soojung could ever be “good”, in all senses of the word, but it was only polite to ask. He found it funny though, that now it was something that he had to ask. In the past all she had to do was be in front of him and he would know.
“Hungry.” She smiled again. This time it was more radiant, better than before, and reminiscent of the her so many years ago. Jongin gripped onto his engagement ring tightly. “Do you still have food?”
Did she still have the habit of not eating whenever he was not around? Jongin wondered. But he didn’t need the answer to it anymore. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and felt his engagement ring scrape the inside of his pocket. It was a constant reminder of Sunyoung and all that she meant to him.
“Soojung…” She nodded slightly. He took another deep breath.
“No. I don’t have food for you anymore.”
Sunyoung came back on a Wednesday afternoon, just before he had an initial concept meeting with a new client. Jongin was in the business of graphic design mainly because of Sunyoung. He hadn’t thought of to pursue it at all, in the beginning, but she had encouraged him to take a shot. One of her cousins had needed a new design for his namecard, and Sunyoung had given him a slight nudge in that direction. It was a success, however mild, and Jongin soon found himself taking on odd design jobs on the side of being a researcher at his alma mater. It took four months before he quit the job and set up his own online company. Sunyoung now sometimes did occasional marketing jobs for him, mainly because he wasn’t good at that. She did everything he couldn’t too well.
She told him not to pick her up. “Go get your meeting done, silly. I’ll drop by for dinner. I’ll even cook if you want!” He could hear the happiness in her voice. It was so natural for her to seem happy all the time. Jongin couldn’t see it happening to him, but somehow Sunyoung managed to encompass him in her world, and it was good. He never wanted to imagine how life would have been if they hadn’t met each other.
“I don’t want you burning down my kitchen, so I’ll cook. Steak?”
He wove through the lunchtime crowd. The client had arranged to meet at their headquarters near an university area. It was an online company that sold personalised canvas bags, so he supposed that explained the preppy location. Jongin realised, belatedly as he passed a sign, that this was also the university that Liyin lectured at. Maybe they could meet up after his meeting if she had spare time, and talk about the toast she was going to make at the wedding. Liyin was going to be Sunyoung’s main bride-of-honour, but Jongdae had to go mess things up by proposing to her the week after he did to Sunyoung.
“Hey, what’s this no show of confidence? Remember those pancakes I made?” Sunyoung protested. She had made them for his birthday, and while they were slightly burned at the edges they were kind of good too. “Those were perfect!”
“Yeah. Perfectly burned, you mean.”
Jongin looked up at the number plates of the buildings as he walked past them. The client had told him beforehand that they were located in an alley that was harder to spot on the outside, because of the playground that stood in front of it. Sunyoung was defending herself and her pancakes as he approached the swings, and Jongin smiled as she threatened to make them again. He didn’t actually mind. The playground was a well known landmark in this area, a place where local artists gathered to alternatively sell or produce their art. He spotted a few people who looked like students sitting behind wooden easels, paintbrushes in hand. If he had the chance before he would have been here too, he thought.
One of them was sketching a charcoal sketch of the playground. Another one of that had a bottle of oil paint in one hand and his chest painfully jolted when she looked up. It was Soojung, in a pair of white shorts and blue checked shirt. She looked as surprised as he was, and then in a flash, like she couldn’t decide whether to go up to him or disappear into the ground. Jongin could hear somebody calling for Sunyoung on her end of the line.
“You go get busy. I’ll call you back soon.” He cut the line and wondered if he should leave. But Soojung had already stood up, wiping her hand on the back of her easel, and waved cautiously. It had been awkward, the way he told her to go back when she turned up at his apartment. Soojung, however, showed no sign of that now.
“Hey.”
She slipped some of her hair behind her left ear. Jongin nodded in reply and looked at his watch. He wasn’t running late, but he wanted to leave. But he also wanted to ask questions. Soojung had never said anything about liking art when they were together. To see her painting as if it were completely normal made Jongin feel like something had been pulled over his eyes for the last few years that she had completely disappeared. Soojung was flighty but she had never kept anything from him. He pointed at her easel. She looked back at it, and let out an apprehensive laugh.
“I came back to study. Here. Art.” She pulled down on her hair. “It’s been fun so far.”
Jongin couldn’t understand. Why was she doing this, the one thing that he had wanted to do but had no courage to? Soojung glanced up at him, blinking rapidly. She now looked like a deer in headlights. She was supposed to be a lion. This was all wrong.
“Why… are you doing this?”
He could hear his voice tremble. Soojung pursed her lips inwards. He could see her belly button piercing through the thin fabric of her shirt when he looked downwards. Was it still a snarling lion? Or did she change it, as she had her entire self? Jongin felt the sudden urge to shake her by the shoulders, or walk away quickly, or both. She was bad for him--was always and would always be.
“I just--” Her voice faded off as she looked back up at him. The area was still bustling, and he could hear snatches of conversation, intermingled with theirs. It made theirs seem less intimate, which was exactly what he wanted. Soojung couldn’t have a place steeped in intimacy anymore.
Then finally:
“I just want to do for you what you couldn’t do. Be an art student and draw as many things as I can. Live the life that you wanted to but couldn’t, because of everything and everyone. Maybe--even me.”
6
Jongin opened the letterbox on the way up to his apartment. It had been a few years since he first moved in, and it was slowly getting full to the brim with his books and paints. But he wasn’t in the habit of moving, and didn’t like change, so he stuck with it. The letterbox had only three letters. He read them while he rode the elevator up: one of them was from the utilities company, another from a fine arts magazine he subscribed to, and the final one from a government body with a very official looking seal embossed on top. He knew what it was--Jongdae had gone into the army just over a year ago, and he’d known that it would be his turn any time soon. Jongin just had not expected it to be now. There were too many things that he needed to take care of: his research, his art classes on the side, Soojung.
Soojung had returned three weeks after the first time she left. He hadn’t known what to say then, but she walked up to him and hugged him so tightly he felt that it wasn’t right to ask. She did tell him later, that she was looking for her sister in some southern town. Jongin couldn’t know if she was telling the truth but it was enough. It didn’t take long before she left again. Jongin often found himself wondering at times in the early morning, when he would be writing research papers and staring down a glass of beer, why she was so fixated with this.
She had told him once, though: “My sister is somewhere. I know she’s somewhere out there. I know she’s waiting for me to go and save her. How can I let her down?”
But Soojung’s sister wasn’t the only one who needed saving. Soojung came and went many, many times, an extension of her behaviour in high school. Sometimes he would wake up and find her curled up on the end of the bed. Sometimes when he woke up she would be gone again. Soojung never left notes or called him. She expected him to be there, always, and Jongin was. He couldn’t blame anyone or her or himself--he loved her. It was his way of loving her, even though Jongdae found her horrid and him stupid. There was no correct way of loving someone, Jongin thought. This was one of the many in the world that existed.
He punched in his electronic combination and pushed the door open. It creaked, and he hung his keys on the hook near the door. When the door closed shut on its own, he turned around to find Soojung standing in the kitchen, staring at him with a glass of milk cupped in both of her hands. She was back. He looked back at her, almost not daring to breathe.
“Hey, Kim Jongin.”
Then she smiled and ran to him. Jongin caught her before she could spill the milk, and hugged her as tightly as she did him. She felt even skinnier than before. When Soojung said that she couldn’t eat away from him, she meant it. He wondered if he had enough ingredients to cook something for her--midterms season meant that he often fed himself with just ramyeon, because it was fast and convenient. Soojung had buried her face into the curve of his neck again. They stood there for a while, before he lifted her up and carried her back to the bedroom. Often she would refuse to walk because he was there. Their relationship was almost symbiotic, he sometimes thought. He didn’t know if she needed him more, or he her. It was an answer that had and needed no answer.
“I didn’t find her.” Soojung’s voice was muffled, breath slow down his neck. “I didn’t find her again.”
He didn’t think she could. But he placed her down on the bed and smoothed her hair out. Soojung looked incredibly tired, and rolled off to one side. The letters had been crushed when she ran to envelop him in such a hug, and now Jongin’s heart remembered to sink. Her left leg lay across his lap, and Jongin’s throat tightened. He had no idea how to tell her that it was his turn to leave.
“Soojung?” He called out softly. She stirred and flipped over so that her head now rested on his lap. Her shirt had drawn upwards to reveal a very flat belly and her snarling lion. He reached over and fiddled with it. Her skin was soft and very hot.
“My enlistment letter came today.” Being honest was the only way. Her eyes opened and they looked at each other. She had that expression on again, the one where nobody could top her because she wouldn’t allow it to happen. But it was only for a moment, a single flash, before she closed them again. “I have to go in soon.”
“When?”
“After I graduate next month.”
Jongin swallowed. Soojung’s chest was heaving up and down slowly, in a rhythm that he could count to if he wanted. He didn’t know what this reaction was supposed to mean. Did she possibly feel that she could too, stay for once? Soojung suddenly reached for his hand, and it was almost scalding. He waited for her to say something, but she never did. They stayed like this until she had really fallen asleep. Jongin watched the clock on his dresser tick past three, and then fell into a deep sleep himself.
When he woke up he thought she had gone again. Jongin brushed his teeth slowly and bent down to gargle. He came back up to see Soojung looking back at him in the mirror. Her hair was so long that it now reached the bottom of her back. She was wearing one of his shirts that had his university’s initials emblazoned on the front.
“Morning.”
“Hi.”
Soojung walked out with him to the sofa. She had made breakfast, toast with butter and two cups of coffee. Jongin enjoyed the way she made toast with the edges slightly burnt. They ate, and he was relieved that she was actually putting food in her mouth for once. Soojung took a last bite of hers and pushed it aside before he was done with his portion. Beyond her he could see the striped pattern of her suitcase. It looked unpacked, and made him feel unusually uneasy. Soojung liked living out of a suitcase, but he did not.
“You have class this afternoon.”
She said while looking up at the corkboard that he had pinned to the wall, just on top of his sofa. Jongin picked up his cup of coffee. It was another session to discuss the final stages of his thesis with his directing professor. Soojung had knelt up to take a closer look at the post-it notes that covered the board. When she had left a while ago it was only half covered. Now there was no space to be found. His life went on even without her, he realised, but it was never the same. There was always a spot for her.
“Just a meeting. I won’t take more than an hour, so let’s go for lunch after that?” Jongin pulled her back down and Soojung placed her hands on his shoulders. They were very close to each other, and he could see her eyelashes as she watched him. She didn’t give him a reply, and just looked at him for a very long time. She had done this the first time they kissed, but it felt different now.
“I’m leaving.” Soojung said quietly. He could feel his heart slow down. “I have to.”
“What do you mean you have to?”
Jongin couldn’t control himself from saying that. She constantly said it, like it was a catchphrase, like it was a mantra that her life revolved around. Soojung didn’t look at him. He knew exactly what she was going to do--he knew her more than she knew herself, more than he even knew himself. He knew that she was running because it was in her to do so, so that she would outlast everyone else. But he’d always thought that by waiting she would one day perhaps, learn to do the same. He had waited because he loved her. Jongin never once thought that she did not love him too. But now as she looked down at the white covers of his sofa and refused to say a word, he couldn’t make himself believe that anymore.
“Why do you keep running away? From everyone around you? Even--me?”
Soojung’s head shot up.
“I’m searching for--” She couldn’t seem to find the right word. “I’m searching. I’m not running away. You know that, Kim Jongin. You know it.”
He didn’t. He looked at her numbly, wearing his navy university shirt and hair long enough it pooled around her as she sat. Soojung didn’t know it either. Now what was it? What were they? Jongin watched as she got up and starting pacing the room. It was what she did when she was agitated. Soojung was never good with words, so she never argued. She walked her problems away. It was appropriate enough. She turned back to look at him, face almost pleading.
“You know it Kim Jongin. Right?”
He stared at her. And then he shook his head.
When he was released from the army, the apartment felt completely foreign to him. Jongin stood in the middle of the tiny house, and strangely felt like he had never really lived in it before. He had been offered a job by the university after he were to complete graduate school. Jongin was inclined to take it. It gave him the monetary freedom to do what he had been contemplating to do since half a year ago--move out.
He supervised as the moving company carried everything out. There were boxes and boxes of books, all arranged according to chronological order of the authors’ names. He kept those, and everything else he asked them to either throw or sell. There were many things that he no longer needed. One of the moving company employees came up to him as they were about to be done, with a flat-packed box, and asked what to do with it. Jongin watched as he opened it. It was a rectangular painting, done in oil and charcoal. It was of Soojung lying on his shoulder, based off the one afternoon that they had sat together in the room he shared with Jongdae, quiet but together. He had done it, many months after moving into the apartment, because she had asked him to. But she had never seen it because she was never there to. The employee looked at him curiously and asked again.
“I’ll take it.”
Jongdae was the one who picked him up. As they left he looked out of the window at the grey, drab building that was his for so long. It felt surreal to be leaving. Jongdae started the engine, and as they pulled out, Jongin saw a striped suitcase and someone with very, very long hair standing beside it. She was staring at the elevator, waiting for it to bring her up. But he was no longer going to be there. Jongdae turned left out to a main road, and Jongin watched as she turned smaller and smaller until she was no more.
She was curled up against the door when he doubled back in a taxi. Soojung was still wearing his navy shirt, too big and long for her. Her eyes were closed and did not open even when he approached slowly. Why did she come back again? He knelt down beside her, and tucked her hair behind an ear. She had to not be eating again.
“Kim Jongin?”
He looked at her as she woke up. She didn’t say anything else for an extended moment, before she reached out and pulled him in. She still smelt like malt candy, after all these years. His hand was tangled in her hair as she hugged tighter. He hesitated for a singular moment, before running it down her back. Soojung had buried her face in his shoulder. He felt as if they could stay here forever, a minute capsuled in infinite time, but it wasn’t true.
“Where did you go?”
She asked in a small voice. Jongin’s defenses wanted to crumble, but he held onto them. This was not a problem that he could resolve on his own, by letting her come and go as and when she wanted until he finally broke. He felt older in an instant, like the act of being a soldier had forced him to grow up and face their problem in the eye. They were no longer in high school, not even if the image of Soojung in his head would always be of her in their school uniform, skirt too high and shirt too short.
“Soojung,” he tried to keep his voice level, “we need to make this work.”
On the way back to his new apartment Soojung had fallen asleep, so he carried her up when they reached the place. Jongdae opened the door for them, and balked too obviously when he saw Soojung in his arms. Jongin could feel Jongdae’s eyes on them as he walked into the bedroom and placed her on the bed, and knew that he wanted to say something. He closed the door behind him, and walked to where Jongdae now stood, in the kitchen with his arms crossed.
“Seriously?” Jongdae’s voice went up a pitch. Jongin didn’t say anything. “Seriously.”
Jongdae stared at him, then shook his head. Jongin knew that his cousin had never liked Soojung much, but he never wanted to ask for specific reasons. Jongdae had been most supportive when he told him that he wanted to work out. This new apartment was in part made possible, because Jongdae had pulled connections in order to secure this for him. Jongin was grateful, but it was impossible for Jongdae to truly understand why he was doing this. He and Soojung only needed one more chance, one more try at whatever they were trying to make it work. Jongdae, for all his concern, still only remained an outsider for this.
“You moved here because you wanted to put an end to your relationship with her. And then you bring her here? What the hell, Jongin?”
Jongdae scowled at him. The apartment was still filled with boxes, so there was very little space where they could stand and talk. The kitchen was the only place. Jongin turned around to make sure that the door was still shut. Jongdae rolled his eyes when he turned back to look at him.
“Hyung, I appreciate your concern but Soojung is j--”
“No, you do not appreciate my concern at all, you fool.”
Jongdae crossed and uncrossed his arms again several times. Jongin knew that it was something he did when he was trying to tamp his temper down. Jongdae rarely got angry, but when he did no one wanted to be around to watch it. So he just kept quiet, and let Jongdae do all of the talking.
“If you appreciated it, you would have stuck to your guns and kept her out of your life. Do you know how stupid you look? How many years has it been since she started running in and out of your life whenever she wanted to? Jongin, you’re my cousin and that’s the only reason why I’m even saying this--don’t let her into your life any more.”
Jongin looked into Jongdae’s eyes. He didn’t seem to be saying this because he disliked Soojung. Jongdae was one of the most rational, logical people around. He knew there had to be an underlying meaning to his words, but they still stung to hear.
“She’s not good for you.” Jongdae’s voice hung in the air, lead heavy.
“She really isn’t. And you know it.”
He had fallen asleep in the living room, on the floor, surrounded by boxes. When he opened his eyes, Soojung was hovering above him, hair falling around her face. He stole a look at his watch--8 PM. Jongdae had gone back a few hours ago. They didn’t exchange many words after that, and it wasn’t like he knew what to say anyway. Soojung settled down on the floor beside him, legs crossed, and looked at him. She looked softer tonight, like an overexposed photo.
“Hey.”
He said, voice slightly hoarse. She didn’t feel as real as before, for some reason. She took his hand and held it tight, but only very slightly. Soojung’s hand was small and bony, unable to fully encompass the width of his. But she was trying. Jongin wanted to assume the same for everything that she could do for him and for them.
“Hi.”
Now she lay down beside him, chin resting somewhere near the edge of his chest. Her eyes gleamed in the lights of the neighbourhood, pouring in from the window. He wanted time to stop so that she could never run away again. But really, it had never been up to time to decide. It had been Soojung’s choice, over and over, time and time again. Jongin put a hand on her back--she felt hot to the touch.
“Soojung,” she looked up at him and smiled, “let’s get married.”
He could almost count the number of times she was blinking at him slowly.
“It’s another stage that we have to move on to together. Marry me, Soojung. This house will be here for you forever. I will be here forever. I won’t move again. Please don’t go away again, Soojung, please stay--even if it’s just once--for me. For us. Let’s get married. All right?”
Soojung kept right on looking at him. He felt a strange, great relief. It was everything that he had wanted to say for a long time coming. He could hear the mini fan crank around, the oscillation of its blades sending air their way. It was cold. Soojung blinked once, then twice, before she reached forward and kissed him. Jongin kissed her back almost instantly. If this was her answer then he chose to interpret it as yes. It could only be that, he thought, and then she overwhelmed him again.
She was ferocious, like she was desperately trying to say something but Jongin didn’t know whether she couldn’t, or if he was the one unable to read it. Soojung rarely was this way. She never was ever in want of something--she was the one always being wanted. Jongin could feel her hands clutching onto his shirt as she kissed him over and over, her hair falling over him and onto the tepid floor.
“Jongin--” her voice was strangled when she stopped for a moment, lips hovering over his, “Jongin, I--”
She never called him that either. Jongin nodded, as if it would reassure her that he understood everything she was trying to convey, and pulled her in again.
He woke up for the second time, still sprawled on the floor of his new apartment’s living room. He opened his eyes to the cardboard boxes that the moving company had packed his things into, all casually shoved into corners and across the ground. Jongin looked up at the ceiling. It was white and had a nice row of lights that were fluorescent white. He waited for a moment, but the house remained quiet. There was something deadening in his chest now, a heavy weight that was slowly starting to sink. He didn’t want to get up and see if Soojung was there. She would be--she had to be. Before he had drifted off to sleep last night, Soojung had promised. She had said yes to his plan of waking up together tomorrow, and going to the Registry together. She had looked up at him and kissed him again and said yes again after that. She had said “Kim Jongin, I really need you”. She had.
He didn’t find her in the bedroom, or the bathroom, or the kitchen. The striped suitcase wasn’t where it was in the living room the night before. Jongin took a long look at the time on his cell phone--11:24 AM--before picking up his keys and walking out.
He sat at the benches near the entrance of the Registry of Marriages office and waited. He kept looking at his phone, but nobody called except for Jongdae and one of his colleagues that wanted to know if he was coming in today. He said no to that, and merely listened as Jongdae apologised over the line. Jongdae wasn’t in the wrong, but Jongin had no strength to reassure him of that. He kept waiting, even as the employees gave him odd looks as they went for their lunch break and came back. He kept waiting, until one of them came over to tell him apologetically that they were going to be closed for the day, and if he needed anything, he could come back tomorrow. Jongin wanted to tell her that it was impossible, but the words were too difficult to articulate. Instead he said sorry and walked out into the sunlight. It was too bright for a sunset. He looked at his phone, feeling as if his chest had been hollowed out. It was an uneasy sensation, but perhaps it was true. It had been six hours. Six hours was more than enough to determine that all of his waiting had to come to an end. Soojung--he couldn’t think about her without feeling as if he wanted to throw up, so he instead mechanically dialled Jongdae’s number, saved as 2 on speed dial.
“Hyung?” Jongdae sounded confused. Jongin knew he had to be, but perhaps he would be a lot happier later. “Can you take me in? I need to leave. I’m sorry I never listened.”
And for the first time in his life, Jongin ran as fast as he could.
7
They decided on Tuscany for the honeymoon. Sunyoung was enthusiastic about getting sun and massive doses of tomatoes in Italy, and Jongin was happy to oblige her. Jongdae had wanted to go to the same place, but Liyin had very luckily managed to dissuade him, and go to Spain instead. Jongin secretly decided that there was no way that they would be able to “coincidentally” meet up.
The only problem was Trouble. Sunyoung couldn’t find anyone to take care of her for the honeymoon period--her mother was allergic to cat fur, and no one else that they knew liked cats well enough to want and take Trouble in for three weeks. Jongin suggested putting up an ad online, and once Sunyoung had agreed, designed a virtual flyer that he helped put up on different classified sites. The response was okay, but Sunyoung wasn’t very satisfied with everyone that turned up. He had to agree with her though, because Trouble didn’t seem to like them very much either.
Jongin was colouring in the name card logo for the canvas company when Sunyoung called. Trouble was napping on the table beside him, and he couldn’t chase her off. Sunyoung had conveniently left her here even after coming back from China. Jongin was somehow used to her presence now, but it was barely three days before the wedding and he really needed to finish up the design. So it didn’t matter that a cat was sleeping on his table, as long as she remained there and didn’t wake up.
“I’ve found someone to take care of her!” Sunyoung sounded very relieved. Jongin strained to hear her because the background was so loud. “She’s one of Liyin unnie’s students.”
“Does Jongdae hyung know? Will he accuse us of subjecting his wife’s student to forced labour?”
Sunyoung laughed. It was getting harder to hear her, because of all the music and people talking. But she was probably in the vicinity of Liyin’s university, now that he thought about it. Jongin’s pen slipped as he thought about something else--it had been many days since he last met Soojung at the playground. He had kept mum that day and walked away. It was rude of him, maybe, but Jongin felt like it was the only way for self-preservation.
He still didn’t understand why Soojung was back. He didn’t want to understand either. Sunyoung knew very little about her because he was unwilling to tell her so much about the one girl that he had given up so much for. It just wasn’t fair to her. So he refrained from telling, and now he wondered if he should have come clean. But Sunyoung deserved better.
“He might, but unnie will put him right back in his place. She’s coming over to pick Trouble up later, so pack some of her food for her when you can?”
“All right, but I’ll have you know that I’m also preparing to get married in two days.”
“What a coincidence, me too!”
Jongin laughed and felt much better. Sunyoung’s voice was enough. They were never as physical as he and Soojung were, but Jongin liked it. Liyin had introduced the both of them at one of her art shows, and the first thing he was attracted to was her voice. She spoke well, which was something both he and Soojung could never do. Sunyoung could say anything and make it sound good, even if it was all negative. He frequently just listened to her in their first year together, and it was only into the first half of their second year that he began to open up. Sunyoung was the only person who could have done it.
He put down the phone after she had hung up. Trouble was still snoozing on his table. He stared at his design for a while, half filled in with red. He wondered about Soojung for a brief moment, then resolved to never think about her again. It was over so many years ago. He rubbed his engagement ring around his finger again, and twirled his pen around. Even if she had stayed then it would never have worked.
Soojung just could not stay. She thought of it as searching, her frequent disappearances, but they were not. She needed to go because she always thought that if she didn’t, then the people around her would. She had told him about her family a few times, how her mother wasn’t really gone but deceased, how her sister had gone out for coffee one Saturday and never returned after that. Soojung had been left behind all her life, and hence needed to seek. Jongin should have understood. But waiting was never easy. It was something he realised much later but as he stayed put in the apartment for her, his life still moved on. He could live without her if he wanted to, no matter how much it would hurt to rip her spot away from his heart. It was a simple truth that he wanted to deny, because he had loved her. But Soojung didn’t love him. That was simple enough too.
Trouble woke up ten minutes later. He gathered up the unopened packets of cat food that Sunyoung had left behind, and put them all in Trouble’s basket. The cat stretched and leapt onto his sofa, purring softly. Jongin sat down beside her and tickled her behind her ears.
“Be good, okay? Don’t bite or sleep on tables. And eat when you’re given food, don’t be picky.”
He had grown somewhat attached, after all. Jongin turned on the television and flipped through the channels, deciding to take a break before going back to his design. Trouble watched alongside him, still half asleep, and the doorbell rang after a fried chicken commercial. It would be Liyin’s student, Jongin thought, and unlocked the door without looking at the digital eyehole.
“Hi.”
It wasn’t Liyin’s student. Or was it? Jongin couldn’t move.
“I’m here to pick up Trouble.”
Soojung held up Trouble’s carrier and shook it. It rattled, both it and him.
She sat primly on the sofa beside Trouble as he went to fetch the cat food. This apartment was significantly bigger than the one he used to rent, but he had kept the colour scheme the same. Soojung obviously had noticed, running a palm across the white sofa. Trouble seemed to have no problem being in the same space as Soojung, still half asleep peacefully. Jongin dropped the packets on the coffee table in front of her, and kept quiet.
There were too many questions he wanted to ask. Did she come because she knew Sunyoung was his fiancee? What was she doing here? Why did she come back? Why didn’t she just stay away and run forever? He sounded vindictive but perhaps he was. Soojung couldn’t keep showing up in his life as and when she liked, not when he had moved on. His engagement ring had seemed to engorge and was now choking on his middle finger. It hurt, but not as much as his head did.
“Your place is big.” Soojung said. She tucked her hair behind an ear and sounded nervous again. She didn’t have to be. There was nothing to be nervous about anymore, he thought to himself. She wasn’t supposed to be like this. Why had she become someone that he no longer knew, so that he couldn’t have a chance in the world to keep her away? “Bigger than the ones before.”
What did she know about before?
“Soojung, please. Stop.” Jongin knew he shouldn’t be snapping at her but it was all he could do now. “Please. What the hell are you doing in my life again?”
She froze for a moment, and then looked up at him. He hated it so much when she did that. She looked genuinely confused and frightened and then all at once, like she wanted to pander to him and say the right things to make him happy. But Soojung wasn’t like that. She never made him happy because she wanted to, but because she just did. She was his world and it was enough, even if he wasn’t hers and could never be a permanent part of it. It was enough back then, but he didn’t want any of it now.
“Jongin, I--” He glared at her and she stalled. “I just--I just want to take care of the cat for you.”
She finished lamely, and Jongin wanted to laugh.
“You still can’t lie too well, can you? Because when you can’t deal with a situation, you just have to up and run away and everything will be all right, won’t it?”
Soojung shook her head, probably terrified at the way he was so bitter and angry. But he couldn’t help it. Everything that he had kept hidden away, just like his box of art supplies under his bed, had now risen to the top and bubbled over. If Jongdae wondered why he never told Sunyoung much about Soojung, this was why--he was too irrational when it came to her that it seemed almost inhuman to him, that sort of rage he felt inside constantly whenever a thought of her even began to manifest.
“I’m not.” She said in a very small voice. But he didn’t care. “I’m not, Jongin.”
She was, again. He knew her better than she knew herself. Jongin’s head pounded and he wanted to succumb to it.
“I said stop.” Her eyes were still on him, afraid, and Jongin’s anger grew. “I said stop!”
He roared and the entire space was all him and his voice. He could almost physically feel the atmosphere growing stale, so rapidly there was no way to stop it. Soojung was still looking at him, as if frozen, as if too scared to move a single limb. Trouble had leaped off the couch when he had yelled, and skittered her way to the kitchen. Jongin’s shoulders sagged--there was nothing impeding in his chest any more. But he couldn’t deal with this either.
“Please,” he was almost pleading now, “please go home now.”
There was a very long, opaque silence in the moment that followed. Then Soojung shook her head, slowly at first, then firmly. He didn’t know what to say that would make her go away. She was already a permanent fixture in his memories, indelible, and there was no way that he could erase that. He was scared, Jongin really was, that she would stay for real now, when he had already moved on. It was the what ifs that terrified him, the too-bitter truth that he had no control over his destiny when it came to her.
“No. No, Jongin, please just listen to me first.”
He closed his eyes wearily, and did.
“When I left that time, I didn’t know where else to go. I had run out of places to travel to. I didn’t know it then, but I didn’t want to leave anymore. But because I didn’t know, I went back home. It was okay. Didn’t you ask me before why I didn’t eat when you weren’t around? Because they tasted like nothing to me. I ate on the request of my guardian when I went back home. All the meat they fed me tasted like soggy newspaper. But at least something came out of that, because I finally found out where my sister was. She needed me, remember? I was the only one who could save her. I believed in that so hard that the next day I had my suitcase packed and left to look for her. She needed me and I was going to her. I had been late for so many years, and I couldn’t afford to be late for another few more days. It would be irresponsible of me, wouldn’t it?
She was living in some town on the southern most tip of the country. I wondered constantly over and over as I took the bus there: why was she there? What sort of troubles did she have to go through? Why didn’t I know that she was there? My poor sister must have suffered so much. I couldn’t sleep at all through the ride. All I could think about was how she must have waited for me, crying through the nights for her baby sister to come and save her. And for all these years I’ve let her hopes down.
She lived near the sea, just like you did. I looked at it and thought of you. I wondered if you grew up by the seaside, unlike me. It was all I could think about as I walked through the town to the address that I had copied down. When I found it, I didn’t dare to knock. If you had been there with me, you would have done it with me, I know we would have. I stood there foolishly for the longest time, until someone pulled it open from the inside. It was a kid, maybe four or five, I couldn’t really tell. I’m not good with children, remember? I wanted to ask who he was, when his mother came up from behind him.
It was my sister.
I couldn’t understand. Why did she have a family? Wasn’t she waiting for me? Wasn’t I supposed to be her family? We only had each other in the world, didn’t we? I must have stared at them for the longest time, because she told me to come in and not stand out in the heat. The house was pretty, but really small. You would have liked it. But it wasn’t what my sister was meant for. I couldn’t understand at all.
My sister was meant to be successful, insanely so, more than I could ever imagine. But here she was in an apron and carrying a fat boy in her arms. She had a son that I knew nothing about. Not his name, not his age, not even his existence until a few moments ago. I looked at my sister and she said nothing. She didn’t even look like she was ashamed. But why would she be?
I wanted to ask her why she was gone. And I did, before she could even put her son down and give me a glass of water. She looked at me for a long time, and in that moment I saw how much we actually looked alike. It had been many years since I last saw her, but we had grown to be so physically similar. It was weird. I suddenly didn’t want it anymore.
My sister sat down opposite me. Her son slipped down and ran away. It ran in the family, didn’t it? She looked at me again. I looked back at her. I didn’t feel as if she had any answers for me. Everything I did meant nothing, then? She kept quiet for a while more.
‘Soojung,’ she said and I saw the silver band on her finger gleam, ‘first of all, I’m sorry.’
‘But I had to leave. Didn’t you see what happened between Mom and--him? He forced Mom to leave. He forced us to live with him in a home that wasn’t one. I couldn’t take it anymore. If he couldn’t provide us with the love that I needed--that we needed--then it was necessary to go. But you were so young then, Soojung. I could hardly fend for myself, so how could I take care of you too? I’m sorry, Soojung. But I’ve found what I was looking for. I know you can too.’
I couldn’t.
I really, really couldn’t. She had given me a slap back to reality. It hurt so much. I wanted to yell at her that I couldn’t, that she had ruined me by giving me so much hope that she actually needed me. That someone in this world wanted me, at least. I wanted to hurt her so badly before I realised--
--she was me, and I was you.”
He felt impassive. Soojung had gotten up and now stood opposite him. He remembered her to be of average height, but right now she looked tiny. Small and fragile, like he could break her with his words alone. He could, as a matter of fact. Soojung was looking at him so carefully he wanted to tear something apart.
“I’m sorry, Jongin. I really am.”
She shouldn’t have to be apologising. Love was never a two way street for them. Jongin clenched and unclenched his fists, over and over. He wanted her out of the house now, but she wouldn’t go. He felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, because she was here and she took away everything that he needed to survive. Soojung was dangerous for him, like Jongdae had always said, and it was only now that he so keenly knew how that was true. If she said another word, would he stall everything for her once again? Jongin had no idea. But it was a possibility. It was an actual possibility and he hated himself for it.
“I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how else to apologise, I--” She was almost blubbering now. Jongin watched her with the same deadened feeling in his chest, now expanding and growing. “But I love you. I did. I do.”
“Not in the same way as you did, but I love you. I really do.”
Jongin looked at her, and then let it all go.
Click.
“Yup. Hey. Jongin? Did the girl come to pick Trouble up?”
“Sunyoung.”
“Uh huh?”
“Is she really Liyin nuna’s student?”
Long pause.
“Jongin.”
“You knew who she was, didn’t you?”
“...only when unnie introduced her to me. I remembered her name from when you were telling me about her. And Jongdae oppa helped, too.”
“Sunyoung you--why?”
“I know… I know you don’t like talking about her because of how much she’s changed you as a person. And I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is how you really need to talk to her in order to move on, and you keep denying that because you’re afraid of her.”
“I’m not afra--”
“Jongin. You are scared. I know making this decision on my part probably has crossed too many lines, but-- I just want you to let go of your inner demons, you know? You’ve been unhappy for too long. I want you to live life happy, Jongin. You deserve it more than anyone else in this world.”
Silence.
“Sunyoung…”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
∞
She worked part time at the convenience store nearby on days that she didn’t have classes, or when she didn’t need to go out drawing. Soojung was not used to this sort of lifestyle very much, but she enjoyed it. It had taken a bit of pulling strings behind the scenes for her to get into this university, but she took it more seriously than anybody had expected her to. One of her professors liked especially her oil works, and wanted to be her mentor for that. She didn’t know whether she was up to it or not, but still said she would consider anyway.
Life was more existential than it used to be. She now, at least, was doing something that she could have a firm grip of. Soojung had lost more than she could keep, when she was trying to gather everything into her arms. But now she was trying to pick them up slowly, bit by bit, until they could piece her life together, whole again. Though she was not sure if she could be truly whole, since Jongin was never going to be in it ever again.
The wedding was a week ago. She remembered the date that his fiancee had told her a few weeks ago. She hoped that everything went well, that when he boarded the plane with her to some faraway, exotic country, he would be smiling and happy. And he would be, wouldn’t he? His fiancee seemed to be the nicest person around. She didn’t even flinch when she heard her name. Soojung. The cause of misery in Jongin’s life. Even she disliked her name now.
Soojung didn’t want to get up from the bed. She lived in one of the newer dorms that the school had built a few years ago. It was a single suite, because her guardian had insisted that she shouldn’t have to share. She didn’t mind, but acceded to him anyway. Learning to give in was one of the things that she was slowly starting to get the hang of, even if it was to the person that her non-present father had assigned to keep tabs on her. She watched the timer light blink on her air conditioner, before it beeped and turned itself off. Summer was here, almost. Didn’t they meet around the cusp of this season too, so many years ago? Soojung remembered it well enough to want and forget it.
The phone rang, a shrill sound that shocked her momentarily, and she sat up to pick it up. It was the counter downstairs, calling to say that she had a package to sign for. She couldn’t think of anyone who knew her well enough to send a package, but put on her shoes and went down anyway.
The lady smiled at her, and she took it up with her to the room. It was a heavy, brown papered package, with her name written in neat script on it. She took a while to realise that she recognised the handwriting, before she began opening it as quickly as she could without ripping it apart.
It was them. The most beautiful oil painting that she had ever seen. She looked at it for a very long moment, hands trembling, before she picked up the card that had fallen out from the packaging alongside it. His handwriting was still the same, neat, precise, like his person. The one that she had but lost. Soojung bit down hard on her lip but it wouldn’t stop, the shaking of her shoulders, her tears, the bitterness of what she now recognised as regret and sadness and the dull pain of love lost. She hadn’t lost it--she had let it go.
It was so hard. But this was reality now, and she clutched onto the card as tightly as she could, saying what was her last goodbye to the boy she loved the most.
“We are all born insignificant in the face of love” -- Unknown
Dear Soojung,
Love is humbling, isn’t it? When I said that day that your love wasn’t important to me anymore, I meant that I have moved on. I will always remember that there was a girl in my life that I loved with all my heart, but it is over now. Thank you for being a part of it, for everything that you have given me, and for everything that you have taken away. Your love should be important to someone else now, and his love will be important to you as well.
Love will heal. I hope you will, too.
Kim Jongin
kai/krystal, kai/luna, au, pg, 9523 words
"we are all born insignificant in the face of love." ten years between jongin and soojung.
end story. this was very cathartic to write. i found myself wanting to sob multiple times for them, but i think it's just me. haha.
5
“You mean she called you?” Jongdae put down his shot glass of soju, eyes wide. “What?”
Jongin nodded. They were in a pojangmacha near Jongdae’s new apartment. He had bought it a few months ago, a present for his fiancee and their future nuptial home. Liyin was second generation Chinese-Korean, extremely capable, and the person directly responsible for introducing Sunyoung to him. Jongin would be eternally indebted to her for that. Jongdae looked incredulous before downing another shot.
He had told Jongdae about Soojung only after she had left the first time. Jongdae couldn’t understand why they were even together in the first place. Jongin didn’t have a very good answer for that either, except that he liked Soojung. Enough for him to want and wait for her to come back every time. Jongdae never approved, and never stopped calling him stupid, because Soojung never stopped leaving.
“Does Sunyoung know?” Jongdae appreciated Sunyoung, as he did for all things that Liyin liked and was surrounded by.
“She isn’t back from China yet.” Jongin swirled his shot glass around, still half full with soju. He had cut the line immediately after hearing Soojung’s voice. There was no possible way that he could have said anything after she did. “I don’t think I should tell her. It’s nothing anyway.”
Jongdae looked at him as if he was seeing an extraterrestrial being for the first time. “Nothing? Nothing? Are you crazy?” He banged his glass down for maximum effect, and the lady behind the counter stuck her head out to see if there was anyone drunk and making a scene. Jongdae quickly waved in apology, and turned back to glare at him.
“You spent, what, ten years of your life waiting for her. That’s nothing?”
“That’s--” Jongin struggled to get the words out, “that’s not it. That wasn’t even waiting. I don’t even know what that was anymore.”
As with all things in his life that had to do with Soojung. He hardly knew what to say, but he was sure of one thing--he didn’t want her in his life any more. Not now. Jongdae gaped at him, then poured him another drink. Jongin knocked back another three but still did not feel drunk.
He should have known. Soojung had an uncanny ability to find the things and people she wanted to, most of the time anyway. Jongin stared at the screen of his digital eyehole: Soojung’s hair was in a ponytail, and she was looking back at him. This reminded him uneasily of how they first met. He didn’t want a repeat of that all over again. She pressed on the doorbell again, then two more times, and then three more. She didn’t stop. Sunyoung had set the tune to be a cheerful chirping, but now it pounded in his head and forced him to do what he didn’t want to do.
“Hi, Kim Jongin.”
She smiled at him when the lock lifted up with a mechanical click and he pulled the door open. There was something different to it. She no longer looked like the girl who had to intimidate everyone she met, standing on higher ground just because she could. There was a slight tenseness to her smile, the look in her eyes, and Jongin thought for a moment that she was nervous. The thought slipped away the next moment.
“You’re…” He searched for the right words. Not welcome? Not supposed to be here? It was too difficult. “Back.”
She blinked several times. Her hair was much shorter than he had remembered it to be. Jongin sighed quietly, and pulled the door shut behind him. She didn’t miss that, and looked up at him again, blinking very quickly. She wasn’t this way before. What happened to the girl who would force her way in with words? Maybe it was not just her that had changed--Jongin fiddled with the ring on his middle finger--he had, too.
“Yeah. Taemin said you would be here.” Soojung pulled at the end of her ponytail. He had no idea how she managed to contact Taemin, and why Taemin had betrayed his new address so easily.They stood in silence for a while, Jongin highly aware of the constrained space that they were contained in, mere feet from each other. This used to be intimate, the way they surrounded themselves with each other. Now he wanted to free himself from this, but he was also unwilling to open the door and let her in. Soojung didn’t need to be let in anymore. She couldn’t, not when she had let herself out first.
“How are you? Good?”
He asked, finally. It was a generic question, one that was in territory safe enough. The last time he had seen her was three years ago. Jongin didn’t know if Soojung could ever be “good”, in all senses of the word, but it was only polite to ask. He found it funny though, that now it was something that he had to ask. In the past all she had to do was be in front of him and he would know.
“Hungry.” She smiled again. This time it was more radiant, better than before, and reminiscent of the her so many years ago. Jongin gripped onto his engagement ring tightly. “Do you still have food?”
Did she still have the habit of not eating whenever he was not around? Jongin wondered. But he didn’t need the answer to it anymore. He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and felt his engagement ring scrape the inside of his pocket. It was a constant reminder of Sunyoung and all that she meant to him.
“Soojung…” She nodded slightly. He took another deep breath.
“No. I don’t have food for you anymore.”
Sunyoung came back on a Wednesday afternoon, just before he had an initial concept meeting with a new client. Jongin was in the business of graphic design mainly because of Sunyoung. He hadn’t thought of to pursue it at all, in the beginning, but she had encouraged him to take a shot. One of her cousins had needed a new design for his namecard, and Sunyoung had given him a slight nudge in that direction. It was a success, however mild, and Jongin soon found himself taking on odd design jobs on the side of being a researcher at his alma mater. It took four months before he quit the job and set up his own online company. Sunyoung now sometimes did occasional marketing jobs for him, mainly because he wasn’t good at that. She did everything he couldn’t too well.
She told him not to pick her up. “Go get your meeting done, silly. I’ll drop by for dinner. I’ll even cook if you want!” He could hear the happiness in her voice. It was so natural for her to seem happy all the time. Jongin couldn’t see it happening to him, but somehow Sunyoung managed to encompass him in her world, and it was good. He never wanted to imagine how life would have been if they hadn’t met each other.
“I don’t want you burning down my kitchen, so I’ll cook. Steak?”
He wove through the lunchtime crowd. The client had arranged to meet at their headquarters near an university area. It was an online company that sold personalised canvas bags, so he supposed that explained the preppy location. Jongin realised, belatedly as he passed a sign, that this was also the university that Liyin lectured at. Maybe they could meet up after his meeting if she had spare time, and talk about the toast she was going to make at the wedding. Liyin was going to be Sunyoung’s main bride-of-honour, but Jongdae had to go mess things up by proposing to her the week after he did to Sunyoung.
“Hey, what’s this no show of confidence? Remember those pancakes I made?” Sunyoung protested. She had made them for his birthday, and while they were slightly burned at the edges they were kind of good too. “Those were perfect!”
“Yeah. Perfectly burned, you mean.”
Jongin looked up at the number plates of the buildings as he walked past them. The client had told him beforehand that they were located in an alley that was harder to spot on the outside, because of the playground that stood in front of it. Sunyoung was defending herself and her pancakes as he approached the swings, and Jongin smiled as she threatened to make them again. He didn’t actually mind. The playground was a well known landmark in this area, a place where local artists gathered to alternatively sell or produce their art. He spotted a few people who looked like students sitting behind wooden easels, paintbrushes in hand. If he had the chance before he would have been here too, he thought.
One of them was sketching a charcoal sketch of the playground. Another one of that had a bottle of oil paint in one hand and his chest painfully jolted when she looked up. It was Soojung, in a pair of white shorts and blue checked shirt. She looked as surprised as he was, and then in a flash, like she couldn’t decide whether to go up to him or disappear into the ground. Jongin could hear somebody calling for Sunyoung on her end of the line.
“You go get busy. I’ll call you back soon.” He cut the line and wondered if he should leave. But Soojung had already stood up, wiping her hand on the back of her easel, and waved cautiously. It had been awkward, the way he told her to go back when she turned up at his apartment. Soojung, however, showed no sign of that now.
“Hey.”
She slipped some of her hair behind her left ear. Jongin nodded in reply and looked at his watch. He wasn’t running late, but he wanted to leave. But he also wanted to ask questions. Soojung had never said anything about liking art when they were together. To see her painting as if it were completely normal made Jongin feel like something had been pulled over his eyes for the last few years that she had completely disappeared. Soojung was flighty but she had never kept anything from him. He pointed at her easel. She looked back at it, and let out an apprehensive laugh.
“I came back to study. Here. Art.” She pulled down on her hair. “It’s been fun so far.”
Jongin couldn’t understand. Why was she doing this, the one thing that he had wanted to do but had no courage to? Soojung glanced up at him, blinking rapidly. She now looked like a deer in headlights. She was supposed to be a lion. This was all wrong.
“Why… are you doing this?”
He could hear his voice tremble. Soojung pursed her lips inwards. He could see her belly button piercing through the thin fabric of her shirt when he looked downwards. Was it still a snarling lion? Or did she change it, as she had her entire self? Jongin felt the sudden urge to shake her by the shoulders, or walk away quickly, or both. She was bad for him--was always and would always be.
“I just--” Her voice faded off as she looked back up at him. The area was still bustling, and he could hear snatches of conversation, intermingled with theirs. It made theirs seem less intimate, which was exactly what he wanted. Soojung couldn’t have a place steeped in intimacy anymore.
Then finally:
“I just want to do for you what you couldn’t do. Be an art student and draw as many things as I can. Live the life that you wanted to but couldn’t, because of everything and everyone. Maybe--even me.”
6
Jongin opened the letterbox on the way up to his apartment. It had been a few years since he first moved in, and it was slowly getting full to the brim with his books and paints. But he wasn’t in the habit of moving, and didn’t like change, so he stuck with it. The letterbox had only three letters. He read them while he rode the elevator up: one of them was from the utilities company, another from a fine arts magazine he subscribed to, and the final one from a government body with a very official looking seal embossed on top. He knew what it was--Jongdae had gone into the army just over a year ago, and he’d known that it would be his turn any time soon. Jongin just had not expected it to be now. There were too many things that he needed to take care of: his research, his art classes on the side, Soojung.
Soojung had returned three weeks after the first time she left. He hadn’t known what to say then, but she walked up to him and hugged him so tightly he felt that it wasn’t right to ask. She did tell him later, that she was looking for her sister in some southern town. Jongin couldn’t know if she was telling the truth but it was enough. It didn’t take long before she left again. Jongin often found himself wondering at times in the early morning, when he would be writing research papers and staring down a glass of beer, why she was so fixated with this.
She had told him once, though: “My sister is somewhere. I know she’s somewhere out there. I know she’s waiting for me to go and save her. How can I let her down?”
But Soojung’s sister wasn’t the only one who needed saving. Soojung came and went many, many times, an extension of her behaviour in high school. Sometimes he would wake up and find her curled up on the end of the bed. Sometimes when he woke up she would be gone again. Soojung never left notes or called him. She expected him to be there, always, and Jongin was. He couldn’t blame anyone or her or himself--he loved her. It was his way of loving her, even though Jongdae found her horrid and him stupid. There was no correct way of loving someone, Jongin thought. This was one of the many in the world that existed.
He punched in his electronic combination and pushed the door open. It creaked, and he hung his keys on the hook near the door. When the door closed shut on its own, he turned around to find Soojung standing in the kitchen, staring at him with a glass of milk cupped in both of her hands. She was back. He looked back at her, almost not daring to breathe.
“Hey, Kim Jongin.”
Then she smiled and ran to him. Jongin caught her before she could spill the milk, and hugged her as tightly as she did him. She felt even skinnier than before. When Soojung said that she couldn’t eat away from him, she meant it. He wondered if he had enough ingredients to cook something for her--midterms season meant that he often fed himself with just ramyeon, because it was fast and convenient. Soojung had buried her face into the curve of his neck again. They stood there for a while, before he lifted her up and carried her back to the bedroom. Often she would refuse to walk because he was there. Their relationship was almost symbiotic, he sometimes thought. He didn’t know if she needed him more, or he her. It was an answer that had and needed no answer.
“I didn’t find her.” Soojung’s voice was muffled, breath slow down his neck. “I didn’t find her again.”
He didn’t think she could. But he placed her down on the bed and smoothed her hair out. Soojung looked incredibly tired, and rolled off to one side. The letters had been crushed when she ran to envelop him in such a hug, and now Jongin’s heart remembered to sink. Her left leg lay across his lap, and Jongin’s throat tightened. He had no idea how to tell her that it was his turn to leave.
“Soojung?” He called out softly. She stirred and flipped over so that her head now rested on his lap. Her shirt had drawn upwards to reveal a very flat belly and her snarling lion. He reached over and fiddled with it. Her skin was soft and very hot.
“My enlistment letter came today.” Being honest was the only way. Her eyes opened and they looked at each other. She had that expression on again, the one where nobody could top her because she wouldn’t allow it to happen. But it was only for a moment, a single flash, before she closed them again. “I have to go in soon.”
“When?”
“After I graduate next month.”
Jongin swallowed. Soojung’s chest was heaving up and down slowly, in a rhythm that he could count to if he wanted. He didn’t know what this reaction was supposed to mean. Did she possibly feel that she could too, stay for once? Soojung suddenly reached for his hand, and it was almost scalding. He waited for her to say something, but she never did. They stayed like this until she had really fallen asleep. Jongin watched the clock on his dresser tick past three, and then fell into a deep sleep himself.
When he woke up he thought she had gone again. Jongin brushed his teeth slowly and bent down to gargle. He came back up to see Soojung looking back at him in the mirror. Her hair was so long that it now reached the bottom of her back. She was wearing one of his shirts that had his university’s initials emblazoned on the front.
“Morning.”
“Hi.”
Soojung walked out with him to the sofa. She had made breakfast, toast with butter and two cups of coffee. Jongin enjoyed the way she made toast with the edges slightly burnt. They ate, and he was relieved that she was actually putting food in her mouth for once. Soojung took a last bite of hers and pushed it aside before he was done with his portion. Beyond her he could see the striped pattern of her suitcase. It looked unpacked, and made him feel unusually uneasy. Soojung liked living out of a suitcase, but he did not.
“You have class this afternoon.”
She said while looking up at the corkboard that he had pinned to the wall, just on top of his sofa. Jongin picked up his cup of coffee. It was another session to discuss the final stages of his thesis with his directing professor. Soojung had knelt up to take a closer look at the post-it notes that covered the board. When she had left a while ago it was only half covered. Now there was no space to be found. His life went on even without her, he realised, but it was never the same. There was always a spot for her.
“Just a meeting. I won’t take more than an hour, so let’s go for lunch after that?” Jongin pulled her back down and Soojung placed her hands on his shoulders. They were very close to each other, and he could see her eyelashes as she watched him. She didn’t give him a reply, and just looked at him for a very long time. She had done this the first time they kissed, but it felt different now.
“I’m leaving.” Soojung said quietly. He could feel his heart slow down. “I have to.”
“What do you mean you have to?”
Jongin couldn’t control himself from saying that. She constantly said it, like it was a catchphrase, like it was a mantra that her life revolved around. Soojung didn’t look at him. He knew exactly what she was going to do--he knew her more than she knew herself, more than he even knew himself. He knew that she was running because it was in her to do so, so that she would outlast everyone else. But he’d always thought that by waiting she would one day perhaps, learn to do the same. He had waited because he loved her. Jongin never once thought that she did not love him too. But now as she looked down at the white covers of his sofa and refused to say a word, he couldn’t make himself believe that anymore.
“Why do you keep running away? From everyone around you? Even--me?”
Soojung’s head shot up.
“I’m searching for--” She couldn’t seem to find the right word. “I’m searching. I’m not running away. You know that, Kim Jongin. You know it.”
He didn’t. He looked at her numbly, wearing his navy university shirt and hair long enough it pooled around her as she sat. Soojung didn’t know it either. Now what was it? What were they? Jongin watched as she got up and starting pacing the room. It was what she did when she was agitated. Soojung was never good with words, so she never argued. She walked her problems away. It was appropriate enough. She turned back to look at him, face almost pleading.
“You know it Kim Jongin. Right?”
He stared at her. And then he shook his head.
When he was released from the army, the apartment felt completely foreign to him. Jongin stood in the middle of the tiny house, and strangely felt like he had never really lived in it before. He had been offered a job by the university after he were to complete graduate school. Jongin was inclined to take it. It gave him the monetary freedom to do what he had been contemplating to do since half a year ago--move out.
He supervised as the moving company carried everything out. There were boxes and boxes of books, all arranged according to chronological order of the authors’ names. He kept those, and everything else he asked them to either throw or sell. There were many things that he no longer needed. One of the moving company employees came up to him as they were about to be done, with a flat-packed box, and asked what to do with it. Jongin watched as he opened it. It was a rectangular painting, done in oil and charcoal. It was of Soojung lying on his shoulder, based off the one afternoon that they had sat together in the room he shared with Jongdae, quiet but together. He had done it, many months after moving into the apartment, because she had asked him to. But she had never seen it because she was never there to. The employee looked at him curiously and asked again.
“I’ll take it.”
Jongdae was the one who picked him up. As they left he looked out of the window at the grey, drab building that was his for so long. It felt surreal to be leaving. Jongdae started the engine, and as they pulled out, Jongin saw a striped suitcase and someone with very, very long hair standing beside it. She was staring at the elevator, waiting for it to bring her up. But he was no longer going to be there. Jongdae turned left out to a main road, and Jongin watched as she turned smaller and smaller until she was no more.
She was curled up against the door when he doubled back in a taxi. Soojung was still wearing his navy shirt, too big and long for her. Her eyes were closed and did not open even when he approached slowly. Why did she come back again? He knelt down beside her, and tucked her hair behind an ear. She had to not be eating again.
“Kim Jongin?”
He looked at her as she woke up. She didn’t say anything else for an extended moment, before she reached out and pulled him in. She still smelt like malt candy, after all these years. His hand was tangled in her hair as she hugged tighter. He hesitated for a singular moment, before running it down her back. Soojung had buried her face in his shoulder. He felt as if they could stay here forever, a minute capsuled in infinite time, but it wasn’t true.
“Where did you go?”
She asked in a small voice. Jongin’s defenses wanted to crumble, but he held onto them. This was not a problem that he could resolve on his own, by letting her come and go as and when she wanted until he finally broke. He felt older in an instant, like the act of being a soldier had forced him to grow up and face their problem in the eye. They were no longer in high school, not even if the image of Soojung in his head would always be of her in their school uniform, skirt too high and shirt too short.
“Soojung,” he tried to keep his voice level, “we need to make this work.”
On the way back to his new apartment Soojung had fallen asleep, so he carried her up when they reached the place. Jongdae opened the door for them, and balked too obviously when he saw Soojung in his arms. Jongin could feel Jongdae’s eyes on them as he walked into the bedroom and placed her on the bed, and knew that he wanted to say something. He closed the door behind him, and walked to where Jongdae now stood, in the kitchen with his arms crossed.
“Seriously?” Jongdae’s voice went up a pitch. Jongin didn’t say anything. “Seriously.”
Jongdae stared at him, then shook his head. Jongin knew that his cousin had never liked Soojung much, but he never wanted to ask for specific reasons. Jongdae had been most supportive when he told him that he wanted to work out. This new apartment was in part made possible, because Jongdae had pulled connections in order to secure this for him. Jongin was grateful, but it was impossible for Jongdae to truly understand why he was doing this. He and Soojung only needed one more chance, one more try at whatever they were trying to make it work. Jongdae, for all his concern, still only remained an outsider for this.
“You moved here because you wanted to put an end to your relationship with her. And then you bring her here? What the hell, Jongin?”
Jongdae scowled at him. The apartment was still filled with boxes, so there was very little space where they could stand and talk. The kitchen was the only place. Jongin turned around to make sure that the door was still shut. Jongdae rolled his eyes when he turned back to look at him.
“Hyung, I appreciate your concern but Soojung is j--”
“No, you do not appreciate my concern at all, you fool.”
Jongdae crossed and uncrossed his arms again several times. Jongin knew that it was something he did when he was trying to tamp his temper down. Jongdae rarely got angry, but when he did no one wanted to be around to watch it. So he just kept quiet, and let Jongdae do all of the talking.
“If you appreciated it, you would have stuck to your guns and kept her out of your life. Do you know how stupid you look? How many years has it been since she started running in and out of your life whenever she wanted to? Jongin, you’re my cousin and that’s the only reason why I’m even saying this--don’t let her into your life any more.”
Jongin looked into Jongdae’s eyes. He didn’t seem to be saying this because he disliked Soojung. Jongdae was one of the most rational, logical people around. He knew there had to be an underlying meaning to his words, but they still stung to hear.
“She’s not good for you.” Jongdae’s voice hung in the air, lead heavy.
“She really isn’t. And you know it.”
He had fallen asleep in the living room, on the floor, surrounded by boxes. When he opened his eyes, Soojung was hovering above him, hair falling around her face. He stole a look at his watch--8 PM. Jongdae had gone back a few hours ago. They didn’t exchange many words after that, and it wasn’t like he knew what to say anyway. Soojung settled down on the floor beside him, legs crossed, and looked at him. She looked softer tonight, like an overexposed photo.
“Hey.”
He said, voice slightly hoarse. She didn’t feel as real as before, for some reason. She took his hand and held it tight, but only very slightly. Soojung’s hand was small and bony, unable to fully encompass the width of his. But she was trying. Jongin wanted to assume the same for everything that she could do for him and for them.
“Hi.”
Now she lay down beside him, chin resting somewhere near the edge of his chest. Her eyes gleamed in the lights of the neighbourhood, pouring in from the window. He wanted time to stop so that she could never run away again. But really, it had never been up to time to decide. It had been Soojung’s choice, over and over, time and time again. Jongin put a hand on her back--she felt hot to the touch.
“Soojung,” she looked up at him and smiled, “let’s get married.”
He could almost count the number of times she was blinking at him slowly.
“It’s another stage that we have to move on to together. Marry me, Soojung. This house will be here for you forever. I will be here forever. I won’t move again. Please don’t go away again, Soojung, please stay--even if it’s just once--for me. For us. Let’s get married. All right?”
Soojung kept right on looking at him. He felt a strange, great relief. It was everything that he had wanted to say for a long time coming. He could hear the mini fan crank around, the oscillation of its blades sending air their way. It was cold. Soojung blinked once, then twice, before she reached forward and kissed him. Jongin kissed her back almost instantly. If this was her answer then he chose to interpret it as yes. It could only be that, he thought, and then she overwhelmed him again.
She was ferocious, like she was desperately trying to say something but Jongin didn’t know whether she couldn’t, or if he was the one unable to read it. Soojung rarely was this way. She never was ever in want of something--she was the one always being wanted. Jongin could feel her hands clutching onto his shirt as she kissed him over and over, her hair falling over him and onto the tepid floor.
“Jongin--” her voice was strangled when she stopped for a moment, lips hovering over his, “Jongin, I--”
She never called him that either. Jongin nodded, as if it would reassure her that he understood everything she was trying to convey, and pulled her in again.
He woke up for the second time, still sprawled on the floor of his new apartment’s living room. He opened his eyes to the cardboard boxes that the moving company had packed his things into, all casually shoved into corners and across the ground. Jongin looked up at the ceiling. It was white and had a nice row of lights that were fluorescent white. He waited for a moment, but the house remained quiet. There was something deadening in his chest now, a heavy weight that was slowly starting to sink. He didn’t want to get up and see if Soojung was there. She would be--she had to be. Before he had drifted off to sleep last night, Soojung had promised. She had said yes to his plan of waking up together tomorrow, and going to the Registry together. She had looked up at him and kissed him again and said yes again after that. She had said “Kim Jongin, I really need you”. She had.
He didn’t find her in the bedroom, or the bathroom, or the kitchen. The striped suitcase wasn’t where it was in the living room the night before. Jongin took a long look at the time on his cell phone--11:24 AM--before picking up his keys and walking out.
He sat at the benches near the entrance of the Registry of Marriages office and waited. He kept looking at his phone, but nobody called except for Jongdae and one of his colleagues that wanted to know if he was coming in today. He said no to that, and merely listened as Jongdae apologised over the line. Jongdae wasn’t in the wrong, but Jongin had no strength to reassure him of that. He kept waiting, even as the employees gave him odd looks as they went for their lunch break and came back. He kept waiting, until one of them came over to tell him apologetically that they were going to be closed for the day, and if he needed anything, he could come back tomorrow. Jongin wanted to tell her that it was impossible, but the words were too difficult to articulate. Instead he said sorry and walked out into the sunlight. It was too bright for a sunset. He looked at his phone, feeling as if his chest had been hollowed out. It was an uneasy sensation, but perhaps it was true. It had been six hours. Six hours was more than enough to determine that all of his waiting had to come to an end. Soojung--he couldn’t think about her without feeling as if he wanted to throw up, so he instead mechanically dialled Jongdae’s number, saved as 2 on speed dial.
“Hyung?” Jongdae sounded confused. Jongin knew he had to be, but perhaps he would be a lot happier later. “Can you take me in? I need to leave. I’m sorry I never listened.”
And for the first time in his life, Jongin ran as fast as he could.
7
They decided on Tuscany for the honeymoon. Sunyoung was enthusiastic about getting sun and massive doses of tomatoes in Italy, and Jongin was happy to oblige her. Jongdae had wanted to go to the same place, but Liyin had very luckily managed to dissuade him, and go to Spain instead. Jongin secretly decided that there was no way that they would be able to “coincidentally” meet up.
The only problem was Trouble. Sunyoung couldn’t find anyone to take care of her for the honeymoon period--her mother was allergic to cat fur, and no one else that they knew liked cats well enough to want and take Trouble in for three weeks. Jongin suggested putting up an ad online, and once Sunyoung had agreed, designed a virtual flyer that he helped put up on different classified sites. The response was okay, but Sunyoung wasn’t very satisfied with everyone that turned up. He had to agree with her though, because Trouble didn’t seem to like them very much either.
Jongin was colouring in the name card logo for the canvas company when Sunyoung called. Trouble was napping on the table beside him, and he couldn’t chase her off. Sunyoung had conveniently left her here even after coming back from China. Jongin was somehow used to her presence now, but it was barely three days before the wedding and he really needed to finish up the design. So it didn’t matter that a cat was sleeping on his table, as long as she remained there and didn’t wake up.
“I’ve found someone to take care of her!” Sunyoung sounded very relieved. Jongin strained to hear her because the background was so loud. “She’s one of Liyin unnie’s students.”
“Does Jongdae hyung know? Will he accuse us of subjecting his wife’s student to forced labour?”
Sunyoung laughed. It was getting harder to hear her, because of all the music and people talking. But she was probably in the vicinity of Liyin’s university, now that he thought about it. Jongin’s pen slipped as he thought about something else--it had been many days since he last met Soojung at the playground. He had kept mum that day and walked away. It was rude of him, maybe, but Jongin felt like it was the only way for self-preservation.
He still didn’t understand why Soojung was back. He didn’t want to understand either. Sunyoung knew very little about her because he was unwilling to tell her so much about the one girl that he had given up so much for. It just wasn’t fair to her. So he refrained from telling, and now he wondered if he should have come clean. But Sunyoung deserved better.
“He might, but unnie will put him right back in his place. She’s coming over to pick Trouble up later, so pack some of her food for her when you can?”
“All right, but I’ll have you know that I’m also preparing to get married in two days.”
“What a coincidence, me too!”
Jongin laughed and felt much better. Sunyoung’s voice was enough. They were never as physical as he and Soojung were, but Jongin liked it. Liyin had introduced the both of them at one of her art shows, and the first thing he was attracted to was her voice. She spoke well, which was something both he and Soojung could never do. Sunyoung could say anything and make it sound good, even if it was all negative. He frequently just listened to her in their first year together, and it was only into the first half of their second year that he began to open up. Sunyoung was the only person who could have done it.
He put down the phone after she had hung up. Trouble was still snoozing on his table. He stared at his design for a while, half filled in with red. He wondered about Soojung for a brief moment, then resolved to never think about her again. It was over so many years ago. He rubbed his engagement ring around his finger again, and twirled his pen around. Even if she had stayed then it would never have worked.
Soojung just could not stay. She thought of it as searching, her frequent disappearances, but they were not. She needed to go because she always thought that if she didn’t, then the people around her would. She had told him about her family a few times, how her mother wasn’t really gone but deceased, how her sister had gone out for coffee one Saturday and never returned after that. Soojung had been left behind all her life, and hence needed to seek. Jongin should have understood. But waiting was never easy. It was something he realised much later but as he stayed put in the apartment for her, his life still moved on. He could live without her if he wanted to, no matter how much it would hurt to rip her spot away from his heart. It was a simple truth that he wanted to deny, because he had loved her. But Soojung didn’t love him. That was simple enough too.
Trouble woke up ten minutes later. He gathered up the unopened packets of cat food that Sunyoung had left behind, and put them all in Trouble’s basket. The cat stretched and leapt onto his sofa, purring softly. Jongin sat down beside her and tickled her behind her ears.
“Be good, okay? Don’t bite or sleep on tables. And eat when you’re given food, don’t be picky.”
He had grown somewhat attached, after all. Jongin turned on the television and flipped through the channels, deciding to take a break before going back to his design. Trouble watched alongside him, still half asleep, and the doorbell rang after a fried chicken commercial. It would be Liyin’s student, Jongin thought, and unlocked the door without looking at the digital eyehole.
“Hi.”
It wasn’t Liyin’s student. Or was it? Jongin couldn’t move.
“I’m here to pick up Trouble.”
Soojung held up Trouble’s carrier and shook it. It rattled, both it and him.
She sat primly on the sofa beside Trouble as he went to fetch the cat food. This apartment was significantly bigger than the one he used to rent, but he had kept the colour scheme the same. Soojung obviously had noticed, running a palm across the white sofa. Trouble seemed to have no problem being in the same space as Soojung, still half asleep peacefully. Jongin dropped the packets on the coffee table in front of her, and kept quiet.
There were too many questions he wanted to ask. Did she come because she knew Sunyoung was his fiancee? What was she doing here? Why did she come back? Why didn’t she just stay away and run forever? He sounded vindictive but perhaps he was. Soojung couldn’t keep showing up in his life as and when she liked, not when he had moved on. His engagement ring had seemed to engorge and was now choking on his middle finger. It hurt, but not as much as his head did.
“Your place is big.” Soojung said. She tucked her hair behind an ear and sounded nervous again. She didn’t have to be. There was nothing to be nervous about anymore, he thought to himself. She wasn’t supposed to be like this. Why had she become someone that he no longer knew, so that he couldn’t have a chance in the world to keep her away? “Bigger than the ones before.”
What did she know about before?
“Soojung, please. Stop.” Jongin knew he shouldn’t be snapping at her but it was all he could do now. “Please. What the hell are you doing in my life again?”
She froze for a moment, and then looked up at him. He hated it so much when she did that. She looked genuinely confused and frightened and then all at once, like she wanted to pander to him and say the right things to make him happy. But Soojung wasn’t like that. She never made him happy because she wanted to, but because she just did. She was his world and it was enough, even if he wasn’t hers and could never be a permanent part of it. It was enough back then, but he didn’t want any of it now.
“Jongin, I--” He glared at her and she stalled. “I just--I just want to take care of the cat for you.”
She finished lamely, and Jongin wanted to laugh.
“You still can’t lie too well, can you? Because when you can’t deal with a situation, you just have to up and run away and everything will be all right, won’t it?”
Soojung shook her head, probably terrified at the way he was so bitter and angry. But he couldn’t help it. Everything that he had kept hidden away, just like his box of art supplies under his bed, had now risen to the top and bubbled over. If Jongdae wondered why he never told Sunyoung much about Soojung, this was why--he was too irrational when it came to her that it seemed almost inhuman to him, that sort of rage he felt inside constantly whenever a thought of her even began to manifest.
“I’m not.” She said in a very small voice. But he didn’t care. “I’m not, Jongin.”
She was, again. He knew her better than she knew herself. Jongin’s head pounded and he wanted to succumb to it.
“I said stop.” Her eyes were still on him, afraid, and Jongin’s anger grew. “I said stop!”
He roared and the entire space was all him and his voice. He could almost physically feel the atmosphere growing stale, so rapidly there was no way to stop it. Soojung was still looking at him, as if frozen, as if too scared to move a single limb. Trouble had leaped off the couch when he had yelled, and skittered her way to the kitchen. Jongin’s shoulders sagged--there was nothing impeding in his chest any more. But he couldn’t deal with this either.
“Please,” he was almost pleading now, “please go home now.”
There was a very long, opaque silence in the moment that followed. Then Soojung shook her head, slowly at first, then firmly. He didn’t know what to say that would make her go away. She was already a permanent fixture in his memories, indelible, and there was no way that he could erase that. He was scared, Jongin really was, that she would stay for real now, when he had already moved on. It was the what ifs that terrified him, the too-bitter truth that he had no control over his destiny when it came to her.
“No. No, Jongin, please just listen to me first.”
He closed his eyes wearily, and did.
“When I left that time, I didn’t know where else to go. I had run out of places to travel to. I didn’t know it then, but I didn’t want to leave anymore. But because I didn’t know, I went back home. It was okay. Didn’t you ask me before why I didn’t eat when you weren’t around? Because they tasted like nothing to me. I ate on the request of my guardian when I went back home. All the meat they fed me tasted like soggy newspaper. But at least something came out of that, because I finally found out where my sister was. She needed me, remember? I was the only one who could save her. I believed in that so hard that the next day I had my suitcase packed and left to look for her. She needed me and I was going to her. I had been late for so many years, and I couldn’t afford to be late for another few more days. It would be irresponsible of me, wouldn’t it?
She was living in some town on the southern most tip of the country. I wondered constantly over and over as I took the bus there: why was she there? What sort of troubles did she have to go through? Why didn’t I know that she was there? My poor sister must have suffered so much. I couldn’t sleep at all through the ride. All I could think about was how she must have waited for me, crying through the nights for her baby sister to come and save her. And for all these years I’ve let her hopes down.
She lived near the sea, just like you did. I looked at it and thought of you. I wondered if you grew up by the seaside, unlike me. It was all I could think about as I walked through the town to the address that I had copied down. When I found it, I didn’t dare to knock. If you had been there with me, you would have done it with me, I know we would have. I stood there foolishly for the longest time, until someone pulled it open from the inside. It was a kid, maybe four or five, I couldn’t really tell. I’m not good with children, remember? I wanted to ask who he was, when his mother came up from behind him.
It was my sister.
I couldn’t understand. Why did she have a family? Wasn’t she waiting for me? Wasn’t I supposed to be her family? We only had each other in the world, didn’t we? I must have stared at them for the longest time, because she told me to come in and not stand out in the heat. The house was pretty, but really small. You would have liked it. But it wasn’t what my sister was meant for. I couldn’t understand at all.
My sister was meant to be successful, insanely so, more than I could ever imagine. But here she was in an apron and carrying a fat boy in her arms. She had a son that I knew nothing about. Not his name, not his age, not even his existence until a few moments ago. I looked at my sister and she said nothing. She didn’t even look like she was ashamed. But why would she be?
I wanted to ask her why she was gone. And I did, before she could even put her son down and give me a glass of water. She looked at me for a long time, and in that moment I saw how much we actually looked alike. It had been many years since I last saw her, but we had grown to be so physically similar. It was weird. I suddenly didn’t want it anymore.
My sister sat down opposite me. Her son slipped down and ran away. It ran in the family, didn’t it? She looked at me again. I looked back at her. I didn’t feel as if she had any answers for me. Everything I did meant nothing, then? She kept quiet for a while more.
‘Soojung,’ she said and I saw the silver band on her finger gleam, ‘first of all, I’m sorry.’
‘But I had to leave. Didn’t you see what happened between Mom and--him? He forced Mom to leave. He forced us to live with him in a home that wasn’t one. I couldn’t take it anymore. If he couldn’t provide us with the love that I needed--that we needed--then it was necessary to go. But you were so young then, Soojung. I could hardly fend for myself, so how could I take care of you too? I’m sorry, Soojung. But I’ve found what I was looking for. I know you can too.’
I couldn’t.
I really, really couldn’t. She had given me a slap back to reality. It hurt so much. I wanted to yell at her that I couldn’t, that she had ruined me by giving me so much hope that she actually needed me. That someone in this world wanted me, at least. I wanted to hurt her so badly before I realised--
--she was me, and I was you.”
He felt impassive. Soojung had gotten up and now stood opposite him. He remembered her to be of average height, but right now she looked tiny. Small and fragile, like he could break her with his words alone. He could, as a matter of fact. Soojung was looking at him so carefully he wanted to tear something apart.
“I’m sorry, Jongin. I really am.”
She shouldn’t have to be apologising. Love was never a two way street for them. Jongin clenched and unclenched his fists, over and over. He wanted her out of the house now, but she wouldn’t go. He felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore, because she was here and she took away everything that he needed to survive. Soojung was dangerous for him, like Jongdae had always said, and it was only now that he so keenly knew how that was true. If she said another word, would he stall everything for her once again? Jongin had no idea. But it was a possibility. It was an actual possibility and he hated himself for it.
“I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know how else to apologise, I--” She was almost blubbering now. Jongin watched her with the same deadened feeling in his chest, now expanding and growing. “But I love you. I did. I do.”
“Not in the same way as you did, but I love you. I really do.”
Jongin looked at her, and then let it all go.
Click.
“Yup. Hey. Jongin? Did the girl come to pick Trouble up?”
“Sunyoung.”
“Uh huh?”
“Is she really Liyin nuna’s student?”
Long pause.
“Jongin.”
“You knew who she was, didn’t you?”
“...only when unnie introduced her to me. I remembered her name from when you were telling me about her. And Jongdae oppa helped, too.”
“Sunyoung you--why?”
“I know… I know you don’t like talking about her because of how much she’s changed you as a person. And I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is how you really need to talk to her in order to move on, and you keep denying that because you’re afraid of her.”
“I’m not afra--”
“Jongin. You are scared. I know making this decision on my part probably has crossed too many lines, but-- I just want you to let go of your inner demons, you know? You’ve been unhappy for too long. I want you to live life happy, Jongin. You deserve it more than anyone else in this world.”
Silence.
“Sunyoung…”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
∞
She worked part time at the convenience store nearby on days that she didn’t have classes, or when she didn’t need to go out drawing. Soojung was not used to this sort of lifestyle very much, but she enjoyed it. It had taken a bit of pulling strings behind the scenes for her to get into this university, but she took it more seriously than anybody had expected her to. One of her professors liked especially her oil works, and wanted to be her mentor for that. She didn’t know whether she was up to it or not, but still said she would consider anyway.
Life was more existential than it used to be. She now, at least, was doing something that she could have a firm grip of. Soojung had lost more than she could keep, when she was trying to gather everything into her arms. But now she was trying to pick them up slowly, bit by bit, until they could piece her life together, whole again. Though she was not sure if she could be truly whole, since Jongin was never going to be in it ever again.
The wedding was a week ago. She remembered the date that his fiancee had told her a few weeks ago. She hoped that everything went well, that when he boarded the plane with her to some faraway, exotic country, he would be smiling and happy. And he would be, wouldn’t he? His fiancee seemed to be the nicest person around. She didn’t even flinch when she heard her name. Soojung. The cause of misery in Jongin’s life. Even she disliked her name now.
Soojung didn’t want to get up from the bed. She lived in one of the newer dorms that the school had built a few years ago. It was a single suite, because her guardian had insisted that she shouldn’t have to share. She didn’t mind, but acceded to him anyway. Learning to give in was one of the things that she was slowly starting to get the hang of, even if it was to the person that her non-present father had assigned to keep tabs on her. She watched the timer light blink on her air conditioner, before it beeped and turned itself off. Summer was here, almost. Didn’t they meet around the cusp of this season too, so many years ago? Soojung remembered it well enough to want and forget it.
The phone rang, a shrill sound that shocked her momentarily, and she sat up to pick it up. It was the counter downstairs, calling to say that she had a package to sign for. She couldn’t think of anyone who knew her well enough to send a package, but put on her shoes and went down anyway.
The lady smiled at her, and she took it up with her to the room. It was a heavy, brown papered package, with her name written in neat script on it. She took a while to realise that she recognised the handwriting, before she began opening it as quickly as she could without ripping it apart.
It was them. The most beautiful oil painting that she had ever seen. She looked at it for a very long moment, hands trembling, before she picked up the card that had fallen out from the packaging alongside it. His handwriting was still the same, neat, precise, like his person. The one that she had but lost. Soojung bit down hard on her lip but it wouldn’t stop, the shaking of her shoulders, her tears, the bitterness of what she now recognised as regret and sadness and the dull pain of love lost. She hadn’t lost it--she had let it go.
It was so hard. But this was reality now, and she clutched onto the card as tightly as she could, saying what was her last goodbye to the boy she loved the most.
“We are all born insignificant in the face of love” -- Unknown
Dear Soojung,
Love is humbling, isn’t it? When I said that day that your love wasn’t important to me anymore, I meant that I have moved on. I will always remember that there was a girl in my life that I loved with all my heart, but it is over now. Thank you for being a part of it, for everything that you have given me, and for everything that you have taken away. Your love should be important to someone else now, and his love will be important to you as well.
Love will heal. I hope you will, too.
Kim Jongin