Three Decades Later - [Oneshot]
Title: Three Decades Later
Length: One-shot (approx. 5500 words)
Author: sayhell Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kyuwook
Genre: Mild fluff, Mild angst (In actual fact, I don't really know)
Summary: A letter Kyuhyun received from his late wife propelled him to look for Ryeowook. Reunited after three decades of separation, Kyuhyun promised himself that he'll never let Ryeowook go again.
The short stretch of walk from the house to the mailbox took Kyuhyun longer than he would have liked. A dull pain thrummed under the curve of his arthritic kneecap. He stopped mid-way to knead at his faulty knee, rolling his eyes in annoyance when his spine creaked as he bent down. Every part of his body seemed intent on reminding him that he was no longer a young chap.
Out of a quirky habit, he peered into the dark interior of the mailbox before he unlocked it. He swept the contents into his hands and shuffled through the assortment of papers. He tossed the flyers and brochures into the nearby trashcan and took a closer look at the letters addressed to him on his way back to the house. It was a mundane procedure of sorting through the various bills and insurance updates, until a cream-colored envelope stopped him in his tracks.
The envelope did not bear any stamps or address; only his first name was written. He recognized the font immediately and his heart skipped a beat. The neat blocks of hangul were every bit as elegant as the woman his wife had been, and the use of purple ink further corroborated his deduction.
The envelope, encasing the letter, became heavy in his hand. He was certain that the letter carried words that could change his current life.
He trudged back to the house and headed straight to his room on the second floor after depositing the rest of the letters on the coffee table. He sat down on the double bed, leaned back into the fluffy pillows and propped his tired legs on two aligned cushions.
He held the envelope before his eyes, flipping it back and forth. He tried to squint through the contents but both his eyes and the afternoon light failed him. Sighing, he retrieved the letter-opener from his bedside drawer and forced it into a tiny opening between the envelope and its flap. His hand trembled slightly as he slit the letter-opener across the envelope. This time round, he was sure that the tremors had nothing to do with old age.
He slid the letter out and set the envelope on his lap. He hesitated for a moment more before he pumped himself up with the courage to unfold the letter. A sea of purple characters greeted his eyes. He began to read:
Kyuhyun,
A year should have passed when this letter reaches you. I had asked a close friend of mine to deliver it on my behalf.
We had spent a quarter of century together and I would have exchanged anything to perpetuate this marriage. You have been a good husband; but you would have been perfect if you had loved me as much as I loved you. Don’t misunderstand me; it would be unfair to you if I negated your commitment to our marriage, but I know that I was never the person you wanted the most. Words could never describe how envious I was of him. Your love for him ran deeper than what you let on and I know that, because there were nights where you mumbled his name in your sleep. He has been always a part of you, hasn’t he?
Writing this letter hadn’t been particularly easy and many times, I had to pause to quell my heartache before I could continue. I love you, Kyuhyun, and there’s only one more thing I can do for you: I’m setting you free from the confinements of your responsibilities.
Look for him, find him and continue where you have left off. I’m giving you the green light. Don’t let your obligations toward me stop you. You have done everything you could for me and the fact that you had chosen to marry me had made me the happiest woman in the world. And now it’s your turn for a chance at happiness.
Be happy together with him, Kyuhyun. I’ll be watching over you two. And if you ever wonder why this letter only reaches you now, it’s because I think you should at least mourn over me for a year. Forgive me for being a selfish old woman.
P.S.: Don’t worry about the kids. I’ve made sure that they’ll understand.
Love and Goodbye,
Hyemi
Kyuhyun’s eyes fell onto the date scribbled beneath the cursive signature. The letter was composed two weeks before she had succumbed to her illness. He could imagine her hunched over the hospital bed table, mustering her strength to hold the pen and fighting the lethargy that the chemotherapy had imposed and the pills had compounded.
“You’re not selfish,” he mumbled, blinking his teary eyes. He slid his hand over to her side of the bed and his heart swelled with a complexity of emotions. He had never felt this apologetic and thankful toward his wife.
The glint of his sliver wedding ring caught his attention. Setting the letter down, he raised his hand before his eyes. His hand was ugly and wrinkled, its skin no longer firm and supple. He stared at the ring for a long time and finally, he made his decision.
Wrestling the ring out of his finger had proved to be a tedious endeavor with his knobby finger joint. It took a huge amount of force and a few grunts to wrench the ring free. He held the ring up against the afternoon sunlight, where it reflected a spectrum of psychedelic colors on the bed sheet.
At first it was the memories of his wife that filled his mind. But they were soon replaced by other memories that remained lucid even after three decades of dormancy. His heart trembled. This was the first time he allowed himself to think of that person so freely, so ferociously.
He brought the ring to his lips, imaging that the ring was the embodiment of his late wife. “Sorry,” he said whole-heartedly. “And thank you.”
::::::::::
It was two weeks later when Kyuhyun embarked on his journey. He had taken a week to poke his nose around people who might still be in contact with Ryeowook. It had been difficult because, as much as he hated to admit it, time had wrenched all the members apart with its bossy hands. They no longer kept a close contact with each other. Eventually, it was Ryeowook’s cousin who had given him an address and a telephone number, albeit reluctantly.
Ryeowook had moved to New Zealand twenty years ago and according to the cousin, Ryeowook had never married. Kyuhyun admonished himself for the selfish relief that had coursed through him when he heard that.
Kyuhyun had contemplated calling Ryeowook but mere words couldn’t convey the emotions he had bottled for three decades. And hence, against the objections of his sons and daughter, he had packed his luggage and decided to travel across half the globe to find Ryeowook.
All alone, and at the hefty age of fifty-eight.
The journey from Seoul to the outskirt town of New Zealand was estimated to take thirteen grueling hours. He boarded a coach after alighting from the plane. The city view flattened into wild terrain as the coach bumped along the road. When noon arrived, the scenery had changed into green pastures on which herds of cows were grazing.
Butterflies started to flutter in his stomach as his destination neared. He thought of the words he would say and rehearsed them in his head. He wondered if awkwardness would line their conversation, if the atmosphere hovering around them would no longer carry the sense of ease, and his stomach did a flip-flop.
The afternoon was waning away by the time he got off the coach. The air was damp with the balmy scent of mid-spring. He pressed a hand to his stiff neck. He stretched and the loud popping of his old bones turned the heads of a group of youngsters. He gave them a look somewhere in between a scowl and a smile, and they turned away hurriedly.
After briefly asking for directions, Kyuhyun traveled up a gravel road. The slope was far from steep, but he found himself breathless after a short while. By the time he entered into the clearing of a neighborhood, both of his legs were aching.
The neighborhood was quaint and serene. A salubrious quiet stretched over the cozy scatter of one-story houses. A salty breeze from the nearby sea flowed between the trees and brick walls of the houses to grace the place with a welcoming cool. It was the exactly the kind of place Ryeowook would live in.
Shortly after, he arrived at a house with a manicured lawn. He checked the number on the plate against the address on the crumpled paper, but when the numbers agreed, the balance between excitement and nervousness tipped, and his palms became sweaty. He stood at the front of the house for a long time, unable to set a foot into a chancy future he was completely uncertain about.
“Excuse me?” He turned at the female voice. A matronly woman stood in the garden of the neighboring house, a watering can in her hand. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion.
“I’m looking for Kim Ryeowook,” Kyuhyun explained.
“And who might you be?” He did not miss the hostile edge in her voice.
“I’m an old friend of his.”
The woman gave him a good once-over and Kyuhyun felt tiny under her hawk-like eyes. “You can find him in Sunny Valley,” she said after deciding that he didn’t appear to be a threat.
“Sunny Valley?”
“It’s the nursing home a mile down the street.” She waved him off before he could solicit for more information. She walked off to tend to her patches of flowers, all the while muttering largely unintelligible complaints about strangers in the neighborhood.
Fortunately Kyuhyun found the said nursing home without difficulties. A nurse guided him down the hallway of the squat building after he had explained his agenda. His heart pounded in his ears as he followed in the clacking footsteps of the nurse.
They stopped in front of an activity room. She cleared her throat and knocked on the open door twice. “Mr. Kim?” A dozen of heads turned at the sudden intrusion but Kyuhyun’s eyes landed immediately on one face. His heart held a beat for a long moment when the owner of that face met his gaze. Time and motion became irrelevant.
He watched the play of stupefied surprise and clumsy recovery across Ryeowook’s face. As Ryeowook moved away from the table and toward him, Kyuhyun realized with terror that Ryeowook was on a wheelchair. A thousand questions ran sharply through Kyuhyun’s mind as he stepped towards Ryeowook, his shoes squeaking against the polished wooden floor.
He drank in the sight of Ryeowook. Ryeowook was much smaller than he had remembered and Kyuhyun knew that it was all part of the aging phase. A pair of black-framed glasses was perched on his nose. A web of fine lines fanned out at the corner of the eyes that remained clear, unclouded by time and experience. The uniquely chiseled face still radiated a vibrant and hopeful shine. All in all, despite the vicissitudes in Ryeowook’s appearance, the soul was of the one that he had known and loved.
Still loved.
Kyuhyun tunneled a hand through his graying hair, suddenly self-conscious. Did he still look good? Or the person Ryeowook was looking at was simply allusions to the charming man he had once been?
Ryeowook stopped before Kyuhyun and looked up into his eyes. Emotion expanded within Kyuhyun, pushing his boundaries like an ocean and threatening to devour him. He wondered how he managed to seize himself together instead of crumbling into a sobbing, blubbering mess.
“It’s you,” Ryeowook whispered, sheens of tears visible in his eyes. “It’s really you.”
Kyuhyun nodded. “Erm… Hi…” That was all he could force out of his parched throat. He was aware of the unabashed stares from rheumy and cataract-affected eyes.
“It’s really… really…” A quaver ran through Ryeowook’s never-changing voice. He took a deep breath and ran the knuckle of a finger across his eye to wipe away the tear that had gathered at its corner. “It’s really good to see you again, Kyuhyun. How many years has it been?”
“More than I could count.” Because counting only makes the days without you harder to bear.
Kyuhyun’s eyes roamed around the room. The walls were painted a pastel yellow and stenciled with daisies and poppies. But despite the efforts to furnish the room in a way such that meant to exude cheeriness, it was difficult to overlook the resignation and defeat the inhabitants emanated.
“Are you…” Kyuhyun gestured at the surroundings, his heart suddenly squeezing at the thought that this place might Ryeowook’s home. “Living here?”
Ryeowook shook his head and chuckled softly. “I’m just helping out. It makes their time easier to pass when they learn some craft.” Ryeowook pointed to an exquisitely folded rose on the table. “Besides, Jeff would never let me stay here even if I want to.”
“Jeff?”
“Yes, Jeff.” Ryeowook beamed proudly. Age seemed to fall off him when a smile adorned his face. “My son.”
“You have a son?” Dread crawled up Kyuhyun’s throat when he realized that Ryeowook might have gotten married after all.
“I adopted him a little after I came here,” Ryeowook said and Kyuhyun wondered if he had noticed the apparent relief that unknotted his tense shoulders.
Ryeowook turned over his shoulder to look at the antique clock at the other end of the room and reached out to touch Kyuhyun’s arm. A current of electricity buzzed under Kyuhyun’s skin at the contact. “Give me a few more minutes to wrap things up, and then we can talk,” Ryeowook said, smiling. “There’s so much we need to fill each other with.”
::::::::
Kyuhyun nursed a cup of Chamomile tea while Ryeowook bustled around in the kitchen, whipping up dinner. Ryeowook had rescinded his offer to help out and insisted that he stayed in the living room. It seemed that the horrifying memory of Kyuhyun’s disastrous affinity with anything kitchen-related had not spared Ryeowook despite all these years. Kyuhyun smiled at that.
He could see the reflection of Ryeowook’s wheel-chair bound figure through the long mirror on one of the walls. The counter tops and kitchen appliances were specially designed for the disabled and Ryeowook navigated around them fluidly. Ryeowook did not seem to mind his own disability. But questions gnawed at Kyuhyun. Ryeowook’s state devastated him; of all people, Ryeowook was the least deserving of such misfortune.
Ryeowook’s voice pierced through his cloud of struggling thoughts. He walked to the kitchen, where a rainbow of Korean side dishes and a steaming pot of kimchi soup were set on the table. The homely and nostalgic aroma evoked a long train of memories.
“Did I go overboard?” Ryeowook laughed when Kyuhyun gawked at the amount of food. “I thought you might be hungry after the long hours of travel. I hope you’ve missed my cooking.”
“More than ever,” Kyuhyun said as he took a seat. He hadn’t realized how hungry until the sight of food made his mouth water.
Ryeowook scooped two bowls of rice and placed one in front of him before parking himself at the edge of the table. Kyuhyun helped himself to a large serving of soup. He could feel Ryeowook’s anticipating gaze on him as he took his first sip.
“How is it?” Ryeowook implored. The knot between his eyebrows loosened in relief when Kyuhyun brandished a ‘thumbs up’. “I hope the potatoes are to your liking too. I tend to overcook them a little after I lost a molar to some carrots.” He rubbed at his cheek.
“Oh,” Ryeowook said, as though suddenly remembering something. “Do you want some dark soy sauce? You used to drizzle your rice with it at every meal.” It was heartwarming fact that Ryeowook had remembered his trivial habits that touched Kyuhyun.
Kyuhyun watched as Ryeowook rolled his wheelchair to a counter and stretched to grab the bottle of dark soy sauce on the condiments rack.
“Ryeowook, do you mind if I ask you something?” Kyuhyun asked when Ryeowook set the bottle on the table. He pressed forward when the look in Ryeowook’s eyes gave him the permission. “What happened to your legs?”
Instinctively, Ryeowook’s hand reached down to touch his atrophied kneecap. “I had a bad fall five years ago and somehow I hit a vital nerve in my spine. It’s nothing much actually.” Ryeowook smiled reassuringly but the diminishing of light in Ryeowook’s orbs told Kyuhyun that things had been far from okay in the initial days that had followed the accident.
Kyuhyun placed his chopsticks down when the desire for food fled him. “I’m sorry that I hadn’t been there for you.”
Ryeowook shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t be here for me even when you wanted to. You’ve your family. Speaking of which, why didn’t Hyemi come along with you?” He was suddenly keen to change topic.
It was Kyuhyun’s turn to feel uncomfortable. “She passed away last year after losing the battle to cancer.”
“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Ryeowook floundered for the correct words, and somehow his sympathy irked Kyuhyun. He had thought that sympathy was only meant for acquaintances and he had been so sure that they were beyond that.
“Don’t apologize,” Kyuhyun parroted. “As a matter of fact, she was the one who asked me to make this trip, to look for you.”
Ryeowook’s sympathy faded to honest befuddlement. Kyuhyun wondered if the spark of disappointment in those years was just his imagination. “Why would she do that?”
When the moment to explain his real intention came, Kyuhyun did not shy away. He transformed into the courageous man that he wished he had been all those years ago.
“She knows,” Kyuhyun said, looking deep into Ryeowook’s eyes. “About us.”
Ryeowook touched his throat with a trembling hand. He bit his lips and avoided Kyuhyun’s eyes.
“She wants me to pursue the happiness I’ve never had in her last letter to me.” Kyuhyun wanted to reach for Ryeowook’s hand, but their skin merely skimmed as Ryeowook recoiled from the contact.
“Can we not talk about that?” Ryeowook’s lips wavered into a pleading smile. “Let’s eat.” He began piling food into Kyuhyun’s bowl.
A sharp fear flickered within Kyuhyun at Ryeowook’s reaction. He had come to New Zealand on the confident assumption that the feelings he harbored would be reciprocated. But what if Ryeowook didn’t feel the same way about him?
::::::::::
Ryeowook had offered Kyuhyun Jeff’s old room to stay in for this trip. The room was small and sparsely furnished, but to Kyuhyun, wherever Ryeowook existed was home for him.
The days with Ryeowook fell into an easy and relaxing rhythm. In the mornings, after breakfast, they would water the flowers together. Ryeowook would patiently explain the name and origin of each plant and Kyuhyun would listen attentively, more for the voice than for the contents. In the afternoons, they would go to the nursing home, where together with the inhabitants, Kyuhyun would follow Ryeowook’s instructions in folding colored papers into a plethora of animals and flowers. Then they would wrap up the day with dinner back at the house.
They talked a lot, regaling each other with interesting anecdotes that had occurred to them in the span of thirty years. But Kyuhyun did not mention Hyemi again. He avoided talking about his children as well, afraid that the description of the family he had formed with Hyemi would hurt Ryeowook.
On contrary, the topic of Ryeowook’s conversation revolved mostly around Jeff. He had adopted Jeff when Jeff was eight. He told Kyuhyun about the difficulties he had with the recalcitrant boy, about the first time Jeff had willingly called him ‘Dad’, and about the swelling pride he had felt when Jeff landed a high-flying job in the city. Kyuhyun itched to meet the boy, and he finally did a week into his stay.
He was up early that day and he had been warming up milk in the kitchen when the tinkling of keys echoed from the porch. He carried the mug of milk into the living room and found himself face to face with a man in his late twenties. His sandy blond hair glowed in the shafts of sunlight that arrowed through the windows. In an instant, Kyuhyun knew that the young man was Jeff.
Jeff’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he scrutinized Kyuhyun. After a few moments, a light of recognition snapped into those blue eyes. “Ah, you’re Kyuhyun, aren’t you?” he asked, delight dancing on his handsome face. He spoke Korean fluently.
“You know me?” Kyuhyun was confused.
Jeff was about to answer when Ryeowook wheeled himself out of his room. Jeff went forward immediately, bending down to collect Ryeowook into an affectionate hug. “Hello, Dad. Did you miss me?”
“What do you think?” Ryeowook returned the hug and pried away, observing Jeff at an arm’s length. He frowned in concern. “Did you get thinner?”
Jeff nodded in mock mournfulness. “The stress is getting to me. But I’ll be good if you… You know the drill.” He grinned boyishly at Ryeowook. He rounded to the back of the wheelchair and pushed Ryeowook to the kitchen. “I want the usual strawberry muffins and blueberry pancakes. Oh, also make the crusty round pastry that goes impeccably well with jam.”
“The crusty round pastry happens to be called a scone.” Ryeowook placed unnecessary emphasis on his last word.
Kyuhyun watched the banter between the father and son with amusement as they disappeared into the kitchen. A smile tugged at his lips. He was heartened by Jeff’s affections for Ryeowook. After all these years, Ryeowook never lost his magic on people, from Jeff right down to the denizens of the nursing home.
Jeff resurfaced from the kitchen. He leaned against the television console, meeting his eyes to Kyuhyun. He made a point to lower his voice. “About your last question…” he spoke with a smile. “Yes, I know who you are. Dad talks so much about you that I felt like I’ve known you before I’ve even met you. He had shown me photos of you too.” His eyes scanned Kyuhyun from top to toe. “It seems like time has never quite gotten rid of your laidback demeanor.”
“He talks about me?” “Yeah, more than what you’ll believe.” Jeff picked up a pen and began spinning it between his fingers. “You have been a part of my life. My inspiration as well,” he added as an afterthought. “I want him to talk about me with that kind of light he radiates whenever he talks about you. But the meanings weren’t quite the same; I’m his son and you’re his…” he trailed off.
“Friend?” A part of Kyuhyun clenched painfully.
“You’re way more than that,” Jeff said and Kyuhyun felt like a ticket of reassurance was bestowed upon him. “Say, you didn’t come here for a vacation, did you?”
Kyuhyun was astounded at how astute and straightforward Jeff was. “No, I didn’t,” he admitted.
“I knew it.” Jeff smiled victoriously. The straight file of his teeth gleamed. “I figured that if you appear in my Dad’s life again, you’ll be here to stay. And if you’re really that kind of person that he has described, you’ll come with your heart, in the figurative sense.”
Every point that Jeff made hit the nail right on its head. “How do you know so much?”
“I majored in psychology back in college, and I was the top of my cohort.” Jeff patted his own chest boastfully. But his voice slid into a serious tone the next moment. “It’s good that you’re here now. My Dad is too amazing a man to have to feel lonely now that I’ve moved out.”
“I don’t know how he feels,” Kyuhyun sighed. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Jeff even though he was at least thirty years his junior.
“You should know that my Dad is someone who could sacrifice himself for the greater good of others. Or so he thinks.”
“Jeff,” Ryeowook called suddenly, his distant voice sounding from the kitchen. “I need your help on the pipes.”
“Coming!” Jeff replied and straightened up. He looked at Kyuhyun for a long while, appearing to be deep in thought.
“You know,” he said finally, “Some love never stops even when the relationship does. I believe you know it better than anyone else. Why would you think that my Dad would be any different?”
Jeff turned, but before he headed off to the kitchen, he said something that made Kyuhyun determined never to commit the mistake of letting Ryeowook go again.
“You two are the reason why I believed that true love isn’t supposed to be beautiful and perfect like glass. It’s more like a rock, inevitably scarred with the mistakes and regret of life. But despite all the imperfections, it never withers with the passing of time. And at the end of the day, you’ll find that it had always been there, even when its participants had spent years and years apart.”
::::::::::
They decided to take the longer path along the seaside after one of the sessions at the nursing home. Kyuhyun pushed Ryeowook at a leisurely pace, leaving a set of shoeprints on the sand, in between the twin tracks of the wheel chair. It was the hour of low tides. Gentle waves crawled up the shores, retreating back into the vast sea when they could go no further.
The crisp noise of the waves and the soft howls of the wind were the only voice that littered the comfortable silence around them. They were no longer vociferous youths who could yak interminably without feeling tired. Furthermore, Kyuhyun felt that the both of them had transgressed the stage where words were vital for them to understand each other. It was often in these moments of silence that their souls were perfectly aligned.
Jeff’s words had lodged onto his mind for the past few days. He found himself reaching into the deep recesses of his memories as he tried to figure out Ryeowook’s tacit reluctance of going beyond their current status of ambiguity. He arrived at a conclusion soon enough.
Pabo. Kyuhyun looked down at the whorl on Ryeowook’s head, where strands of lightening hair fanned about it. He wanted to stay with Ryeowook, until their hair whitened into the color of snow, until their backs were hunched with time.
“Kyuhyun,” Ryeowook voice floated up and Kyuhyun came back to reality.
“Hmm?”
“Tell me about your family.” Kyuhyun stopped in his tracks, surprised.
“I mean it’s okay if you don’t feel like talking about them,” Ryeowook said hurriedly, turning over his shoulder when Kyuhyun did not reply. “It’s just that - ”
“No, it isn’t that.” Kyuhyun recovered from his surprise, suddenly feeling the irony of the situation. “I just wasn’t sure if you would be comfortable knowing my family.” He mumbled.
Ryeowook caught every word. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”
Kyuhyun shrugged, unsure how he should explain it. But Ryeowook did not press. He pushed Ryeowook to a bench nearby and braked the wheelchair into position. He took a spot on the bench, whipped out his wallet and flipped it open.
“This is my family,” He leaned in closer to Ryeowook and showed him the family photo slotted behind the plastic compartment.
“They’re all beautiful,” Ryeowook breathed, raking his fingers over the smiling faces. A breeze gushed between them, sending a few strands of Ryeowook’s hair flying and tickling at Kyuhyun’s cheek. Nostalgia filled him.
“The taller boy you see is my eldest child, Jisung.” Kyuhyun began his introduction. ‘The woman next to him is his wife. See the little pink bundle right there?” He pointed excitedly to a spot on the photograph. “That’s my granddaughter. She’s barely bigger than a thermo flask.”
Ryeowook frowned indignantly. “Nobody uses that kind of description on their grandchildren.”
“And this is my second son, .Jiho.” Kyuhyun ignored Ryeowook’s comment. “He’s pretty much a late bloomer, having only graduated from high school at 21. But that’s all right, ‘cause he has a beautiful heart. And this girl right here is my youngest, Jiyoon. Don’t let her goofy smile fool you, she’s the clever one. I have just received the invitation to her doctorate graduation next week.”
At that, the attentive smile that Ryeowook had been wearing fell away in degrees. He looked up at Kyuhyun and then away, trying futilely to mask the disappointment on his face.
“Next week? When will you be leaving?” Ryeowook tried to sound nonchalant.
“Why?” Kyuhyun asked quietly when he realized what Ryeowook had misinterpreted.
“I could organize a farewell dinner for you.” Ryeowook smiled feebly. “And then Jeff and I can bid our goodbyes.”
“No, I mean why do you assume that I’m leaving?”
Taken off-guard, flags of red colored Ryeowook’s cheeks. Kyuhyun wondered how someone could be nearly sixty, and still looked adorable.
“It’s your daughter’s day and I thought…” Ryeowook reasoned, unable to hide his fluster.
“I’m not going to leave.”
Kyuhyun slid off the bench and knelt before Ryeowook on his good knee, thankful that the soft sand provided some form of cushion. “I’m staying put and nothing you say can drive me away. I’m not going anywhere, unless you’re willing to follow me. This is how it’s going to be for the remaining years of my life.” Kyuhyun flashed Ryeowook an impish grin that was reminiscent of that snarky maknae he had been all those years ago.
“We can’t do this, Kyuhyun.” Ryeowook’s eyes were beginning to tear and he shrank back into his wheelchair. “You can’t give up your family for me. And your wife…” He shook his head. “It’s just not right.”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” Kyuhyun retrieved a folded paper from the dollar compartment of his wallet. It was the letter his wife had sent him. He had placed in his wallet a few days ago, so that he could give it to Ryeowook when the opportune moment arises.
“Read this,” Kyuhyun urged, handing the letter to Ryeowook. Ryeowook unfolded the letter with trembling hands. Kyuhyun watched as Ryeowook’s eyes oscillated across the words, as tears began to build in his eyes, as he bit his lips in an effort not to cry. Finally, he laid the letter in his lap and met Kyuhyun’s gaze with his tear-filled eyes.
“I want to apologize to her so much,” Ryeowook whispered. A few tears wended down his cheeks. “But I can’t. Because that would mean that I’m sorry for loving you.”
Kyuhyun’s eyes burned at Ryeowook’s words. He let loose of the emotions that he had been holding a tight rein on and allowed them to run wild and free. He reached for Ryeowook’s hand and wound his fingers into Ryeowook’s. He clasped tight. Even when their hands had wrinkled and shriveled, they still fitted each other perfectly.
“Thirty years ago, we had let each other go because we had no choice. We had been too young, too self-conscious to deal with the repercussions that came along with our relationship. But it’s different now that half the world has forgotten us. We no longer have obligations or the faith of our fans to bear.”
Ryeowook cried harder at Kyuhyun’s heartfelt confession.
“It’s our turn to be happy,” Kyuhyun continued, fighting to keep the tears out of his voice. “Thirty years without you is long enough to torture me, long enough for me to realize that I can never let you go again. I want to stay with you for the rest of my days, until every single strand of my hair has turned white, until the end.”
Ryeowook flung himself forward and into Kyuhyun’s arms, sobbing. Kyuhyun tightened his hold around the skinny body. “Let’s stay together, always and forever.”
“Always and forever,” Kyuhyun repeated, rubbing the small of Ryeowook’s back in comforting circles.
Three decades ago, fame and social dogma had pried them apart but time had failed to erase each other from their memories.
Now, after three decades of separation, their unyielding love has led them back to each other again. And their love will continue from where they had left off. They will spend the rest of their lives together.
And even when the end comes, they will still be together.
END
::::::::::
A/N: Finally, I made it in time for Kyuwook Anniversary Celebration organized by Kyuwook.net. I wanted to write a story where two souls find each other again after years of being apart. And I think this could be very realistic for Kyuwook. What matters the most is they stay together until the very end. I hope I’ve successfully conveyed the unyielding love that Kyuhyun and Ryeowook shared.
I’ll be taking a short break from writing. Completing this oneshot in a span of three days has drained me. Those who are waiting for a new chapter for ‘Be Human’, you may have to wait a little longer. And as usual, thanks for reading. =) Happy Anniversary!
P.S: Hopefully elderly!Kyuwook did not turn anybody off.
Length: One-shot (approx. 5500 words)
Author: sayhell Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Kyuwook
Genre: Mild fluff, Mild angst (In actual fact, I don't really know)
Summary: A letter Kyuhyun received from his late wife propelled him to look for Ryeowook. Reunited after three decades of separation, Kyuhyun promised himself that he'll never let Ryeowook go again.
The short stretch of walk from the house to the mailbox took Kyuhyun longer than he would have liked. A dull pain thrummed under the curve of his arthritic kneecap. He stopped mid-way to knead at his faulty knee, rolling his eyes in annoyance when his spine creaked as he bent down. Every part of his body seemed intent on reminding him that he was no longer a young chap.
Out of a quirky habit, he peered into the dark interior of the mailbox before he unlocked it. He swept the contents into his hands and shuffled through the assortment of papers. He tossed the flyers and brochures into the nearby trashcan and took a closer look at the letters addressed to him on his way back to the house. It was a mundane procedure of sorting through the various bills and insurance updates, until a cream-colored envelope stopped him in his tracks.
The envelope did not bear any stamps or address; only his first name was written. He recognized the font immediately and his heart skipped a beat. The neat blocks of hangul were every bit as elegant as the woman his wife had been, and the use of purple ink further corroborated his deduction.
The envelope, encasing the letter, became heavy in his hand. He was certain that the letter carried words that could change his current life.
He trudged back to the house and headed straight to his room on the second floor after depositing the rest of the letters on the coffee table. He sat down on the double bed, leaned back into the fluffy pillows and propped his tired legs on two aligned cushions.
He held the envelope before his eyes, flipping it back and forth. He tried to squint through the contents but both his eyes and the afternoon light failed him. Sighing, he retrieved the letter-opener from his bedside drawer and forced it into a tiny opening between the envelope and its flap. His hand trembled slightly as he slit the letter-opener across the envelope. This time round, he was sure that the tremors had nothing to do with old age.
He slid the letter out and set the envelope on his lap. He hesitated for a moment more before he pumped himself up with the courage to unfold the letter. A sea of purple characters greeted his eyes. He began to read:
Kyuhyun,
A year should have passed when this letter reaches you. I had asked a close friend of mine to deliver it on my behalf.
We had spent a quarter of century together and I would have exchanged anything to perpetuate this marriage. You have been a good husband; but you would have been perfect if you had loved me as much as I loved you. Don’t misunderstand me; it would be unfair to you if I negated your commitment to our marriage, but I know that I was never the person you wanted the most. Words could never describe how envious I was of him. Your love for him ran deeper than what you let on and I know that, because there were nights where you mumbled his name in your sleep. He has been always a part of you, hasn’t he?
Writing this letter hadn’t been particularly easy and many times, I had to pause to quell my heartache before I could continue. I love you, Kyuhyun, and there’s only one more thing I can do for you: I’m setting you free from the confinements of your responsibilities.
Look for him, find him and continue where you have left off. I’m giving you the green light. Don’t let your obligations toward me stop you. You have done everything you could for me and the fact that you had chosen to marry me had made me the happiest woman in the world. And now it’s your turn for a chance at happiness.
Be happy together with him, Kyuhyun. I’ll be watching over you two. And if you ever wonder why this letter only reaches you now, it’s because I think you should at least mourn over me for a year. Forgive me for being a selfish old woman.
P.S.: Don’t worry about the kids. I’ve made sure that they’ll understand.
Love and Goodbye,
Hyemi
Kyuhyun’s eyes fell onto the date scribbled beneath the cursive signature. The letter was composed two weeks before she had succumbed to her illness. He could imagine her hunched over the hospital bed table, mustering her strength to hold the pen and fighting the lethargy that the chemotherapy had imposed and the pills had compounded.
“You’re not selfish,” he mumbled, blinking his teary eyes. He slid his hand over to her side of the bed and his heart swelled with a complexity of emotions. He had never felt this apologetic and thankful toward his wife.
The glint of his sliver wedding ring caught his attention. Setting the letter down, he raised his hand before his eyes. His hand was ugly and wrinkled, its skin no longer firm and supple. He stared at the ring for a long time and finally, he made his decision.
Wrestling the ring out of his finger had proved to be a tedious endeavor with his knobby finger joint. It took a huge amount of force and a few grunts to wrench the ring free. He held the ring up against the afternoon sunlight, where it reflected a spectrum of psychedelic colors on the bed sheet.
At first it was the memories of his wife that filled his mind. But they were soon replaced by other memories that remained lucid even after three decades of dormancy. His heart trembled. This was the first time he allowed himself to think of that person so freely, so ferociously.
He brought the ring to his lips, imaging that the ring was the embodiment of his late wife. “Sorry,” he said whole-heartedly. “And thank you.”
::::::::::
It was two weeks later when Kyuhyun embarked on his journey. He had taken a week to poke his nose around people who might still be in contact with Ryeowook. It had been difficult because, as much as he hated to admit it, time had wrenched all the members apart with its bossy hands. They no longer kept a close contact with each other. Eventually, it was Ryeowook’s cousin who had given him an address and a telephone number, albeit reluctantly.
Ryeowook had moved to New Zealand twenty years ago and according to the cousin, Ryeowook had never married. Kyuhyun admonished himself for the selfish relief that had coursed through him when he heard that.
Kyuhyun had contemplated calling Ryeowook but mere words couldn’t convey the emotions he had bottled for three decades. And hence, against the objections of his sons and daughter, he had packed his luggage and decided to travel across half the globe to find Ryeowook.
All alone, and at the hefty age of fifty-eight.
The journey from Seoul to the outskirt town of New Zealand was estimated to take thirteen grueling hours. He boarded a coach after alighting from the plane. The city view flattened into wild terrain as the coach bumped along the road. When noon arrived, the scenery had changed into green pastures on which herds of cows were grazing.
Butterflies started to flutter in his stomach as his destination neared. He thought of the words he would say and rehearsed them in his head. He wondered if awkwardness would line their conversation, if the atmosphere hovering around them would no longer carry the sense of ease, and his stomach did a flip-flop.
The afternoon was waning away by the time he got off the coach. The air was damp with the balmy scent of mid-spring. He pressed a hand to his stiff neck. He stretched and the loud popping of his old bones turned the heads of a group of youngsters. He gave them a look somewhere in between a scowl and a smile, and they turned away hurriedly.
After briefly asking for directions, Kyuhyun traveled up a gravel road. The slope was far from steep, but he found himself breathless after a short while. By the time he entered into the clearing of a neighborhood, both of his legs were aching.
The neighborhood was quaint and serene. A salubrious quiet stretched over the cozy scatter of one-story houses. A salty breeze from the nearby sea flowed between the trees and brick walls of the houses to grace the place with a welcoming cool. It was the exactly the kind of place Ryeowook would live in.
Shortly after, he arrived at a house with a manicured lawn. He checked the number on the plate against the address on the crumpled paper, but when the numbers agreed, the balance between excitement and nervousness tipped, and his palms became sweaty. He stood at the front of the house for a long time, unable to set a foot into a chancy future he was completely uncertain about.
“Excuse me?” He turned at the female voice. A matronly woman stood in the garden of the neighboring house, a watering can in her hand. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion.
“I’m looking for Kim Ryeowook,” Kyuhyun explained.
“And who might you be?” He did not miss the hostile edge in her voice.
“I’m an old friend of his.”
The woman gave him a good once-over and Kyuhyun felt tiny under her hawk-like eyes. “You can find him in Sunny Valley,” she said after deciding that he didn’t appear to be a threat.
“Sunny Valley?”
“It’s the nursing home a mile down the street.” She waved him off before he could solicit for more information. She walked off to tend to her patches of flowers, all the while muttering largely unintelligible complaints about strangers in the neighborhood.
Fortunately Kyuhyun found the said nursing home without difficulties. A nurse guided him down the hallway of the squat building after he had explained his agenda. His heart pounded in his ears as he followed in the clacking footsteps of the nurse.
They stopped in front of an activity room. She cleared her throat and knocked on the open door twice. “Mr. Kim?” A dozen of heads turned at the sudden intrusion but Kyuhyun’s eyes landed immediately on one face. His heart held a beat for a long moment when the owner of that face met his gaze. Time and motion became irrelevant.
He watched the play of stupefied surprise and clumsy recovery across Ryeowook’s face. As Ryeowook moved away from the table and toward him, Kyuhyun realized with terror that Ryeowook was on a wheelchair. A thousand questions ran sharply through Kyuhyun’s mind as he stepped towards Ryeowook, his shoes squeaking against the polished wooden floor.
He drank in the sight of Ryeowook. Ryeowook was much smaller than he had remembered and Kyuhyun knew that it was all part of the aging phase. A pair of black-framed glasses was perched on his nose. A web of fine lines fanned out at the corner of the eyes that remained clear, unclouded by time and experience. The uniquely chiseled face still radiated a vibrant and hopeful shine. All in all, despite the vicissitudes in Ryeowook’s appearance, the soul was of the one that he had known and loved.
Still loved.
Kyuhyun tunneled a hand through his graying hair, suddenly self-conscious. Did he still look good? Or the person Ryeowook was looking at was simply allusions to the charming man he had once been?
Ryeowook stopped before Kyuhyun and looked up into his eyes. Emotion expanded within Kyuhyun, pushing his boundaries like an ocean and threatening to devour him. He wondered how he managed to seize himself together instead of crumbling into a sobbing, blubbering mess.
“It’s you,” Ryeowook whispered, sheens of tears visible in his eyes. “It’s really you.”
Kyuhyun nodded. “Erm… Hi…” That was all he could force out of his parched throat. He was aware of the unabashed stares from rheumy and cataract-affected eyes.
“It’s really… really…” A quaver ran through Ryeowook’s never-changing voice. He took a deep breath and ran the knuckle of a finger across his eye to wipe away the tear that had gathered at its corner. “It’s really good to see you again, Kyuhyun. How many years has it been?”
“More than I could count.” Because counting only makes the days without you harder to bear.
Kyuhyun’s eyes roamed around the room. The walls were painted a pastel yellow and stenciled with daisies and poppies. But despite the efforts to furnish the room in a way such that meant to exude cheeriness, it was difficult to overlook the resignation and defeat the inhabitants emanated.
“Are you…” Kyuhyun gestured at the surroundings, his heart suddenly squeezing at the thought that this place might Ryeowook’s home. “Living here?”
Ryeowook shook his head and chuckled softly. “I’m just helping out. It makes their time easier to pass when they learn some craft.” Ryeowook pointed to an exquisitely folded rose on the table. “Besides, Jeff would never let me stay here even if I want to.”
“Jeff?”
“Yes, Jeff.” Ryeowook beamed proudly. Age seemed to fall off him when a smile adorned his face. “My son.”
“You have a son?” Dread crawled up Kyuhyun’s throat when he realized that Ryeowook might have gotten married after all.
“I adopted him a little after I came here,” Ryeowook said and Kyuhyun wondered if he had noticed the apparent relief that unknotted his tense shoulders.
Ryeowook turned over his shoulder to look at the antique clock at the other end of the room and reached out to touch Kyuhyun’s arm. A current of electricity buzzed under Kyuhyun’s skin at the contact. “Give me a few more minutes to wrap things up, and then we can talk,” Ryeowook said, smiling. “There’s so much we need to fill each other with.”
::::::::
Kyuhyun nursed a cup of Chamomile tea while Ryeowook bustled around in the kitchen, whipping up dinner. Ryeowook had rescinded his offer to help out and insisted that he stayed in the living room. It seemed that the horrifying memory of Kyuhyun’s disastrous affinity with anything kitchen-related had not spared Ryeowook despite all these years. Kyuhyun smiled at that.
He could see the reflection of Ryeowook’s wheel-chair bound figure through the long mirror on one of the walls. The counter tops and kitchen appliances were specially designed for the disabled and Ryeowook navigated around them fluidly. Ryeowook did not seem to mind his own disability. But questions gnawed at Kyuhyun. Ryeowook’s state devastated him; of all people, Ryeowook was the least deserving of such misfortune.
Ryeowook’s voice pierced through his cloud of struggling thoughts. He walked to the kitchen, where a rainbow of Korean side dishes and a steaming pot of kimchi soup were set on the table. The homely and nostalgic aroma evoked a long train of memories.
“Did I go overboard?” Ryeowook laughed when Kyuhyun gawked at the amount of food. “I thought you might be hungry after the long hours of travel. I hope you’ve missed my cooking.”
“More than ever,” Kyuhyun said as he took a seat. He hadn’t realized how hungry until the sight of food made his mouth water.
Ryeowook scooped two bowls of rice and placed one in front of him before parking himself at the edge of the table. Kyuhyun helped himself to a large serving of soup. He could feel Ryeowook’s anticipating gaze on him as he took his first sip.
“How is it?” Ryeowook implored. The knot between his eyebrows loosened in relief when Kyuhyun brandished a ‘thumbs up’. “I hope the potatoes are to your liking too. I tend to overcook them a little after I lost a molar to some carrots.” He rubbed at his cheek.
“Oh,” Ryeowook said, as though suddenly remembering something. “Do you want some dark soy sauce? You used to drizzle your rice with it at every meal.” It was heartwarming fact that Ryeowook had remembered his trivial habits that touched Kyuhyun.
Kyuhyun watched as Ryeowook rolled his wheelchair to a counter and stretched to grab the bottle of dark soy sauce on the condiments rack.
“Ryeowook, do you mind if I ask you something?” Kyuhyun asked when Ryeowook set the bottle on the table. He pressed forward when the look in Ryeowook’s eyes gave him the permission. “What happened to your legs?”
Instinctively, Ryeowook’s hand reached down to touch his atrophied kneecap. “I had a bad fall five years ago and somehow I hit a vital nerve in my spine. It’s nothing much actually.” Ryeowook smiled reassuringly but the diminishing of light in Ryeowook’s orbs told Kyuhyun that things had been far from okay in the initial days that had followed the accident.
Kyuhyun placed his chopsticks down when the desire for food fled him. “I’m sorry that I hadn’t been there for you.”
Ryeowook shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t be here for me even when you wanted to. You’ve your family. Speaking of which, why didn’t Hyemi come along with you?” He was suddenly keen to change topic.
It was Kyuhyun’s turn to feel uncomfortable. “She passed away last year after losing the battle to cancer.”
“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Ryeowook floundered for the correct words, and somehow his sympathy irked Kyuhyun. He had thought that sympathy was only meant for acquaintances and he had been so sure that they were beyond that.
“Don’t apologize,” Kyuhyun parroted. “As a matter of fact, she was the one who asked me to make this trip, to look for you.”
Ryeowook’s sympathy faded to honest befuddlement. Kyuhyun wondered if the spark of disappointment in those years was just his imagination. “Why would she do that?”
When the moment to explain his real intention came, Kyuhyun did not shy away. He transformed into the courageous man that he wished he had been all those years ago.
“She knows,” Kyuhyun said, looking deep into Ryeowook’s eyes. “About us.”
Ryeowook touched his throat with a trembling hand. He bit his lips and avoided Kyuhyun’s eyes.
“She wants me to pursue the happiness I’ve never had in her last letter to me.” Kyuhyun wanted to reach for Ryeowook’s hand, but their skin merely skimmed as Ryeowook recoiled from the contact.
“Can we not talk about that?” Ryeowook’s lips wavered into a pleading smile. “Let’s eat.” He began piling food into Kyuhyun’s bowl.
A sharp fear flickered within Kyuhyun at Ryeowook’s reaction. He had come to New Zealand on the confident assumption that the feelings he harbored would be reciprocated. But what if Ryeowook didn’t feel the same way about him?
::::::::::
Ryeowook had offered Kyuhyun Jeff’s old room to stay in for this trip. The room was small and sparsely furnished, but to Kyuhyun, wherever Ryeowook existed was home for him.
The days with Ryeowook fell into an easy and relaxing rhythm. In the mornings, after breakfast, they would water the flowers together. Ryeowook would patiently explain the name and origin of each plant and Kyuhyun would listen attentively, more for the voice than for the contents. In the afternoons, they would go to the nursing home, where together with the inhabitants, Kyuhyun would follow Ryeowook’s instructions in folding colored papers into a plethora of animals and flowers. Then they would wrap up the day with dinner back at the house.
They talked a lot, regaling each other with interesting anecdotes that had occurred to them in the span of thirty years. But Kyuhyun did not mention Hyemi again. He avoided talking about his children as well, afraid that the description of the family he had formed with Hyemi would hurt Ryeowook.
On contrary, the topic of Ryeowook’s conversation revolved mostly around Jeff. He had adopted Jeff when Jeff was eight. He told Kyuhyun about the difficulties he had with the recalcitrant boy, about the first time Jeff had willingly called him ‘Dad’, and about the swelling pride he had felt when Jeff landed a high-flying job in the city. Kyuhyun itched to meet the boy, and he finally did a week into his stay.
He was up early that day and he had been warming up milk in the kitchen when the tinkling of keys echoed from the porch. He carried the mug of milk into the living room and found himself face to face with a man in his late twenties. His sandy blond hair glowed in the shafts of sunlight that arrowed through the windows. In an instant, Kyuhyun knew that the young man was Jeff.
Jeff’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as he scrutinized Kyuhyun. After a few moments, a light of recognition snapped into those blue eyes. “Ah, you’re Kyuhyun, aren’t you?” he asked, delight dancing on his handsome face. He spoke Korean fluently.
“You know me?” Kyuhyun was confused.
Jeff was about to answer when Ryeowook wheeled himself out of his room. Jeff went forward immediately, bending down to collect Ryeowook into an affectionate hug. “Hello, Dad. Did you miss me?”
“What do you think?” Ryeowook returned the hug and pried away, observing Jeff at an arm’s length. He frowned in concern. “Did you get thinner?”
Jeff nodded in mock mournfulness. “The stress is getting to me. But I’ll be good if you… You know the drill.” He grinned boyishly at Ryeowook. He rounded to the back of the wheelchair and pushed Ryeowook to the kitchen. “I want the usual strawberry muffins and blueberry pancakes. Oh, also make the crusty round pastry that goes impeccably well with jam.”
“The crusty round pastry happens to be called a scone.” Ryeowook placed unnecessary emphasis on his last word.
Kyuhyun watched the banter between the father and son with amusement as they disappeared into the kitchen. A smile tugged at his lips. He was heartened by Jeff’s affections for Ryeowook. After all these years, Ryeowook never lost his magic on people, from Jeff right down to the denizens of the nursing home.
Jeff resurfaced from the kitchen. He leaned against the television console, meeting his eyes to Kyuhyun. He made a point to lower his voice. “About your last question…” he spoke with a smile. “Yes, I know who you are. Dad talks so much about you that I felt like I’ve known you before I’ve even met you. He had shown me photos of you too.” His eyes scanned Kyuhyun from top to toe. “It seems like time has never quite gotten rid of your laidback demeanor.”
“He talks about me?” “Yeah, more than what you’ll believe.” Jeff picked up a pen and began spinning it between his fingers. “You have been a part of my life. My inspiration as well,” he added as an afterthought. “I want him to talk about me with that kind of light he radiates whenever he talks about you. But the meanings weren’t quite the same; I’m his son and you’re his…” he trailed off.
“Friend?” A part of Kyuhyun clenched painfully.
“You’re way more than that,” Jeff said and Kyuhyun felt like a ticket of reassurance was bestowed upon him. “Say, you didn’t come here for a vacation, did you?”
Kyuhyun was astounded at how astute and straightforward Jeff was. “No, I didn’t,” he admitted.
“I knew it.” Jeff smiled victoriously. The straight file of his teeth gleamed. “I figured that if you appear in my Dad’s life again, you’ll be here to stay. And if you’re really that kind of person that he has described, you’ll come with your heart, in the figurative sense.”
Every point that Jeff made hit the nail right on its head. “How do you know so much?”
“I majored in psychology back in college, and I was the top of my cohort.” Jeff patted his own chest boastfully. But his voice slid into a serious tone the next moment. “It’s good that you’re here now. My Dad is too amazing a man to have to feel lonely now that I’ve moved out.”
“I don’t know how he feels,” Kyuhyun sighed. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Jeff even though he was at least thirty years his junior.
“You should know that my Dad is someone who could sacrifice himself for the greater good of others. Or so he thinks.”
“Jeff,” Ryeowook called suddenly, his distant voice sounding from the kitchen. “I need your help on the pipes.”
“Coming!” Jeff replied and straightened up. He looked at Kyuhyun for a long while, appearing to be deep in thought.
“You know,” he said finally, “Some love never stops even when the relationship does. I believe you know it better than anyone else. Why would you think that my Dad would be any different?”
Jeff turned, but before he headed off to the kitchen, he said something that made Kyuhyun determined never to commit the mistake of letting Ryeowook go again.
“You two are the reason why I believed that true love isn’t supposed to be beautiful and perfect like glass. It’s more like a rock, inevitably scarred with the mistakes and regret of life. But despite all the imperfections, it never withers with the passing of time. And at the end of the day, you’ll find that it had always been there, even when its participants had spent years and years apart.”
::::::::::
They decided to take the longer path along the seaside after one of the sessions at the nursing home. Kyuhyun pushed Ryeowook at a leisurely pace, leaving a set of shoeprints on the sand, in between the twin tracks of the wheel chair. It was the hour of low tides. Gentle waves crawled up the shores, retreating back into the vast sea when they could go no further.
The crisp noise of the waves and the soft howls of the wind were the only voice that littered the comfortable silence around them. They were no longer vociferous youths who could yak interminably without feeling tired. Furthermore, Kyuhyun felt that the both of them had transgressed the stage where words were vital for them to understand each other. It was often in these moments of silence that their souls were perfectly aligned.
Jeff’s words had lodged onto his mind for the past few days. He found himself reaching into the deep recesses of his memories as he tried to figure out Ryeowook’s tacit reluctance of going beyond their current status of ambiguity. He arrived at a conclusion soon enough.
Pabo. Kyuhyun looked down at the whorl on Ryeowook’s head, where strands of lightening hair fanned about it. He wanted to stay with Ryeowook, until their hair whitened into the color of snow, until their backs were hunched with time.
“Kyuhyun,” Ryeowook voice floated up and Kyuhyun came back to reality.
“Hmm?”
“Tell me about your family.” Kyuhyun stopped in his tracks, surprised.
“I mean it’s okay if you don’t feel like talking about them,” Ryeowook said hurriedly, turning over his shoulder when Kyuhyun did not reply. “It’s just that - ”
“No, it isn’t that.” Kyuhyun recovered from his surprise, suddenly feeling the irony of the situation. “I just wasn’t sure if you would be comfortable knowing my family.” He mumbled.
Ryeowook caught every word. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”
Kyuhyun shrugged, unsure how he should explain it. But Ryeowook did not press. He pushed Ryeowook to a bench nearby and braked the wheelchair into position. He took a spot on the bench, whipped out his wallet and flipped it open.
“This is my family,” He leaned in closer to Ryeowook and showed him the family photo slotted behind the plastic compartment.
“They’re all beautiful,” Ryeowook breathed, raking his fingers over the smiling faces. A breeze gushed between them, sending a few strands of Ryeowook’s hair flying and tickling at Kyuhyun’s cheek. Nostalgia filled him.
“The taller boy you see is my eldest child, Jisung.” Kyuhyun began his introduction. ‘The woman next to him is his wife. See the little pink bundle right there?” He pointed excitedly to a spot on the photograph. “That’s my granddaughter. She’s barely bigger than a thermo flask.”
Ryeowook frowned indignantly. “Nobody uses that kind of description on their grandchildren.”
“And this is my second son, .Jiho.” Kyuhyun ignored Ryeowook’s comment. “He’s pretty much a late bloomer, having only graduated from high school at 21. But that’s all right, ‘cause he has a beautiful heart. And this girl right here is my youngest, Jiyoon. Don’t let her goofy smile fool you, she’s the clever one. I have just received the invitation to her doctorate graduation next week.”
At that, the attentive smile that Ryeowook had been wearing fell away in degrees. He looked up at Kyuhyun and then away, trying futilely to mask the disappointment on his face.
“Next week? When will you be leaving?” Ryeowook tried to sound nonchalant.
“Why?” Kyuhyun asked quietly when he realized what Ryeowook had misinterpreted.
“I could organize a farewell dinner for you.” Ryeowook smiled feebly. “And then Jeff and I can bid our goodbyes.”
“No, I mean why do you assume that I’m leaving?”
Taken off-guard, flags of red colored Ryeowook’s cheeks. Kyuhyun wondered how someone could be nearly sixty, and still looked adorable.
“It’s your daughter’s day and I thought…” Ryeowook reasoned, unable to hide his fluster.
“I’m not going to leave.”
Kyuhyun slid off the bench and knelt before Ryeowook on his good knee, thankful that the soft sand provided some form of cushion. “I’m staying put and nothing you say can drive me away. I’m not going anywhere, unless you’re willing to follow me. This is how it’s going to be for the remaining years of my life.” Kyuhyun flashed Ryeowook an impish grin that was reminiscent of that snarky maknae he had been all those years ago.
“We can’t do this, Kyuhyun.” Ryeowook’s eyes were beginning to tear and he shrank back into his wheelchair. “You can’t give up your family for me. And your wife…” He shook his head. “It’s just not right.”
“Is that what you’re worried about?” Kyuhyun retrieved a folded paper from the dollar compartment of his wallet. It was the letter his wife had sent him. He had placed in his wallet a few days ago, so that he could give it to Ryeowook when the opportune moment arises.
“Read this,” Kyuhyun urged, handing the letter to Ryeowook. Ryeowook unfolded the letter with trembling hands. Kyuhyun watched as Ryeowook’s eyes oscillated across the words, as tears began to build in his eyes, as he bit his lips in an effort not to cry. Finally, he laid the letter in his lap and met Kyuhyun’s gaze with his tear-filled eyes.
“I want to apologize to her so much,” Ryeowook whispered. A few tears wended down his cheeks. “But I can’t. Because that would mean that I’m sorry for loving you.”
Kyuhyun’s eyes burned at Ryeowook’s words. He let loose of the emotions that he had been holding a tight rein on and allowed them to run wild and free. He reached for Ryeowook’s hand and wound his fingers into Ryeowook’s. He clasped tight. Even when their hands had wrinkled and shriveled, they still fitted each other perfectly.
“Thirty years ago, we had let each other go because we had no choice. We had been too young, too self-conscious to deal with the repercussions that came along with our relationship. But it’s different now that half the world has forgotten us. We no longer have obligations or the faith of our fans to bear.”
Ryeowook cried harder at Kyuhyun’s heartfelt confession.
“It’s our turn to be happy,” Kyuhyun continued, fighting to keep the tears out of his voice. “Thirty years without you is long enough to torture me, long enough for me to realize that I can never let you go again. I want to stay with you for the rest of my days, until every single strand of my hair has turned white, until the end.”
Ryeowook flung himself forward and into Kyuhyun’s arms, sobbing. Kyuhyun tightened his hold around the skinny body. “Let’s stay together, always and forever.”
“Always and forever,” Kyuhyun repeated, rubbing the small of Ryeowook’s back in comforting circles.
Three decades ago, fame and social dogma had pried them apart but time had failed to erase each other from their memories.
Now, after three decades of separation, their unyielding love has led them back to each other again. And their love will continue from where they had left off. They will spend the rest of their lives together.
And even when the end comes, they will still be together.
END
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A/N: Finally, I made it in time for Kyuwook Anniversary Celebration organized by Kyuwook.net. I wanted to write a story where two souls find each other again after years of being apart. And I think this could be very realistic for Kyuwook. What matters the most is they stay together until the very end. I hope I’ve successfully conveyed the unyielding love that Kyuhyun and Ryeowook shared.
I’ll be taking a short break from writing. Completing this oneshot in a span of three days has drained me. Those who are waiting for a new chapter for ‘Be Human’, you may have to wait a little longer. And as usual, thanks for reading. =) Happy Anniversary!
P.S: Hopefully elderly!Kyuwook did not turn anybody off.