Ten Trains
title: Ten Trains
pairing: changmin/jessica.
genre: romance
summary: ten train rides, one hundred and sixty-seven words.
a/n: based off of (this) pretty little poem.
1ST TRAIN
The day was clear as usual. The air was polluted as usual. This was Seoul after all.
Changmin, as usual, was on his way to his usual day of work. And as usual, he would take the second morning train on the fifth platform, and get off at the fifth stop. On that train, he would see the usual people he would never usually talk to. The day was just another usual.
And, as more than usual, he would only use exactly one hundred and sixty-seven words that the government had given him throughout the whole day. The same amount of words each and every being in the country would use per day.
Changmin restlessly stood at the edge of the platform. Checked his watch. Straightened his posture. Swept the prominent lint off his black suit. Fiddled with his cuffs. Sighed. Checked his watch again. Repeat.
Boredom had caught onto him, and it kept it's hold. And it would keep it's grasp until his train would come.
And when it did, his boredom did leave. Because, out of all the people he would never usually talk to, there was one person he actually did speak to. Not long conversations, because they both didn't have the time nor the words to spend. They just said hello and let life run its course. She was a pretty brunette, prettier than most, but Changmin was afraid to say that she was the most beautiful being he'd seen in life. It wouldn't be a lie, but he would keep that in his thoughts just in case he was proven wrong.
The train stops. And he gets on the train just as she gets off.
"Hello." One. First word of the day.
"Hello." she replies. It was possible that it was also her first word.
-
SECOND TRAIN
Changmin does his usual routine, because that seems to be the only thing he was capable of doing. People called it anxiety.
The train comes a little earlier than usual. That would mean it would have to stay at the platform a little longer than usual. And she was there. As usual.
The doors open, and he slips out his first word: "Hello."
She smiles. "Hello," She stays on the train a second longer than usual, and spends three words more. "How are you?"
"Good. You?" He's spent three words this morning.
"Same." The train rings, warning for departure. She nods and waves, gets off the train, and looks back before leaving completely. The train moves.
Changmin can't help but keep thinking: She's spent five words on you this morning.
-
THIRD TRAIN
It's a weekend. But, Changmin dares to pay the usual fare and take the usual train. Just to see if she'd spend a few more words than she did yesterday.
He felt bad that he's testing if she would-- it would be wasting the few words they were allowed. But he's curious.
Train arrives. He gets on. She's there. Not in her usual formal attire, but instead a simple white t-shirt and a violet cardigan. He sits down next to her. She's leaning against the window, scowling.
She speaks first: "Hello." One.
"Hi," he answers. "No work?"
"Nope. You?" Three. He shakes his head no. "You're not wearing a suit." Eight.
"Eating out today," he sighs and blankly stares ahead. He initially hadn't planned to eat, but it was the next stop anyhow. "Some soup."
She mumbles an acknowledgement. Surely he couldn't count that as a word.
"What soup?" Ten.
"Chicken noodle." he purses his lips and she lets out a snort and a tiny chuckle. "But it's delicious."
"Sounds childish," she stops staring out the window and turns to look at him. In the eye, to be exact. She gives a tiny smile to let him know she's joking. "But still delicious." Fifteen. A fifteen word conversation so far.
He opens his mouth. The train stops. He waves. He gets off without another word. Fifteen.
"Goodbye!" she shouts from her seat. Everyone looks at her. Sixteen.
He turns and mumbles back. "Bye..." Sixteen.
Sixteen. Eleven more than the previous day. Sixteen words she'd said. Sixteen words he'd said.
-
FOURTH TRAIN
He decides to go on the train again. For a different soup today. But mostly for her.
He begins the conversation: "Hello."
"Hi," Today, she's not as bored. She seemed as if she was waiting for him-- he pushed the thought away. "Jessica."
It's a name. Hers? He extends his hand. "Changmin."
She shakes it. "Soup again?"
"Come with me?"
"Wha-..." Four so far. She pauses and flicks her eyes toward the 'ceiling' of the train in thought. She glances back at him. Faces toward him. Smiles at him. "Why not?" Six.
And they spend another twenty at brunch.
He ordered the same soup as her. Chicken noodle soup.
-
FIFTH TRAIN
Work again. Suit again. Jessica's formally dressed again. Usual 'hello's again.
"Tomato soup tomorrow?" she questions, and he turns his head to look at her. His face breaks into a smile.
"Not childish anymore?" he teases.
"You said it was delicious." she fiddled with her fingers. "It was."
"It is." he nodded to himself and sucked in his cheeks. "What soup for today's lunch then?"
She looks up at him and grins sheepishly. "One o'clock."
She gets off the train. Changmin felt himself smiling for the next two minutes.
-
SIXTH TRAIN
Work again. Suit again. Jessica's formally dressed again. Usual 'hello's again.
"Why don't we just meet at the restaurant now?" she suggests.
"From now on?" he frowns to himself. "No more trains?"
She lightly slaps his shoulder as his pout switches to a playful grin.
He's noticed he doesn't count the words anymore.
-
SEVENTH TRAIN
Work again. Suit again. Jessica's not there. No more 'hello's.
Soup again. Suit again. Jessica's there again. Chicken noodle soup again.
-
By then, Changmin's stopped taking the train and often walked to his work. (Other days he would take a taxi.) Jessica complained about his shape. By then, Changmin had more pep in his step and he stopped fidgeting when he stood still. Jessica complained about how awkward he looked when he did that. Especially when they would sit next to each other at the movies or when they would stand at the little corner where the restaurant was and watch the world buzz by. By then, Changmin stopped being the man that 'counted his usuals' and instead started being the man that 'counted his smiles'. Especially the smiles when he was with Jessica. Those were his favorite smiles.
-
EIGTH TRAIN
Jessica and Changmin were on their way to her apartment.
He held onto the little key she gave him.
-
NINTH TRAIN
Changmin was on his way to the soup restaurant to celebrate. Jessica was sitting at their usual window seat, and was staring at the taxis that passed the intersections, hoping Changmin would be in the next one. The people that walked by would always think she was irritated and was menacingly glowering at random citizens.
Little did she know he actually walked today.
He moistened his lips against the winter cold and thought about the three words he had left of his hundred and sixty-seven. He had used exactly one hundred and sixty-four words up until then. He had used all of them on Jessica when she called him earlier during the day.
And when he said those three words, he found out she only had two left-- but he made do with: "I love-."
-
TENTH TRAIN
Changmin sighed as he focused on the blurry view the window provided. It was almost midnight. He was surprised the trains actually ran this late. Checked his watch. Straightened his posture. Swept the prominent lint off his black suit. Fiddled with his cuffs. Sighed. Checked his watch again.
Oh, how Changmin hated overtime work.
He was exhausted. Tired. Ached. Irritated. He looked out the window again. Perhaps Jessica's 'scowl' was contagious. The little senior couple in the corner of the train cart pointed at Changmin. Perhaps he was actually glaring instead of staring. He was sleep-deprived anyway.
He pulled out his cell-phone and dialed the only number he remembered other than his mother's.
She answered without a hello. Neither did Changmin. He listened to her soft breathing.
He quietly announced he had only used fifty-nine that day. He had saved the rest for her.
She doesn't respond. And he knew she was out of words for that day.
And he slowly began to whisper I love you thirty-two and a third times.
After that, he just sat there. The train rocked him to and fro, back and forth. The lights flickered above his head. The train was quiet. The old couple was smiling to theirselves, out of words.
And she just sat there, on her bed, a light smile painted on her lips.
They both just sat there on the line and listened to each other breathe.