cherryblush03

"Seo...joon?" Baekyeon enunciates carefully as she looks at Soojung, who nods. "Seojoonie?"

Beside her, Chanyoung pokes at the baby's toes. "He's so little."

"You were too, once, Chanyoung-ah." Kyungri wipes the sweat away from his forehead with a damp towel.

Soojung smiles. They were all sprawled out on a mat in Kyungri's backyard, soaking up the late afternoon summer sunshine. Seojoon is about two months old, and this is his first time meeting the kids next door. He's reveling in their attention as the twins coo at him and stroke his hair, cheeks, fingers. He gurgles and curls his entire hand around Chanyoung's finger, and the boy is enthralled.

"Seojoonie, do you want an orange?" Baekyeon says cheerfully as she breaks off a segment for him.

"He can't eat yet, Baekyeon-ah," Soojung tells her gently. "He's too little."

Baekyeon's almond eyes go round. "What! You mean he hasn't eaten all his life, unni? He must be starving!" She grabs her paper cup of sweet iced tea. "What about this? Can he have this? Hurry before he dies!"

"Calm down, Baekyeon-ah," Kyungri laughs as she pulls the girl on to her lap. "Babies only drink a... special kind of milk until they reach a certain age. He's not starving."

Baekyeon frowns. "Okay," she says slowly. "How do you know when he's hungry? Can he talk?"

"He can't talk yet either, sweetie. He'll cry when he's hungry. You'll probably see pretty soon." Seojoon hadn't been fed for a while and Soojung was just waiting for the signaling cry.

Chanyoung, who's been stuffing his face with papaya, suddenly sits up. "Umma," he whines, face crumpling. "I have to go potty."

In no time at all, Kyungri has deftly picked him up and brought him inside, leaving Soojung with the kids. Which was fine for a while because Baekyeon is in a relatively calm mood, but of course Seojoon just had to start wailing mere minutes after Kyungri and Chanyoung left. "Unni! Is he hungry?"

"Er... yes." Soojung didn't really want to breastfeed in front of Baekyeon; she asks too many questions even about the most mundane things, and Soojung could just imagine how odd breastfeeding would look to the four-year-old child. Then again, she couldn't really leave Baekyeon on her own.

"Where is the milk?" Baekyeon scans the mat, and finding nothing but fruit and tea, asks, "Is it inside?"

"Um... sort of. Come with me, Baek," Soojung says as she picks up her baby and walks inside. She vaguely hopes that Baekyeon would lose interest and run around somewhere else once they got inside the house, but she sticks to Soojung and stares at her expectantly and Soojung realizes she doesn't have much choice.

She sinks into one of the kitchen chairs and unbuttons her blouse, and Baekyeon's eyes already start to widen. Soojung hopes she won't start asking any questions and, miraculously, Baekyeon just stands in stunned silence as Seojoon grabs at Soojung's hair and starts nursing. She cautiously moves closer towards Soojung to peer at the phenomena more closely. A little self-conscious, Soojung tries to focus on her son, who was suckling vigorously. He must've been really hungry, she thinks to herself and makes a mental note to try and give him what he needs before he cries for it. While she's thankful that Seojoon was so quiet, she knows that it's her responsibility to pay more attention to him.

There's a surprised sound coming from the doorway and Soojung jolts back to the real world. Chanyoung is standing there, holding Kyungri's hand, and is staring at her with an expression not unlike Baekyeon's. "Umma, what's Seojoonie doing?"

"Drinking," Kyungri answers shortly.

Something seems to click in Baekyeon's head. "Is the milk coming from Soojung unni?"

"Yes." They've reached the kitchen table by then and Kyungri strokes her daughter's hair. "Smart girl."

"It's a miracle!" Baekyeon proclaims, and Soojung was about to object when she catches the thoughtful look on Kyungri's face and doesn't open her mouth.

Later that night, when all the children are asleep, Kyungri says, "Baekyeon sort of has a point."

"Hmm?" Soojung kisses the top of Seojoon's head, having just successfully put him to sleep. "What did she say?"

"She said it was a miracle," Kyungri replies softly, gazing at her children, both heads pillowed on her lap. "And I know she was talking about breastfeeding, but. Motherhood in general, I think, is nothing short of a miracle."

Soojung stays quiet, looking at her with wide eyes, urging her to continue. "Soojung," Kyungri says in an even softer voice. "I -- If Joonmyun-oppa never comes back, I. I'm just, I'm grateful he's already given me the opportunity to be a mother. And..." She reaches out a bit and strokes Soojung's hand. "I know it must be hard doing this on your own," she says gently. "Especially for the first time. So, I'm sure you know this already, but you can ask me for anything anytime."

Soojung intertwines their fingers together. "Thank you, unni," she whispers. "I already know."

"And... I guess I'm just... trying to tell you that even though it's hard, it's all worth it in the end, and motherhood was probably the best thing that's ever happened to me. And if they don't come back..."

"The kids are all we have," Soojung finishes for her. "I know."




Dear Soojung,

I love your letters even more now that they feature a new character. I still can't believe we have a son now, and that he's starting to walk and talk. And I will probably never get over his first word being 'Monggu'. As I'd initially thought, it seems like you're doing just fine, Soojung-ah. I'm sad that I'm missing out on so much, of course, but I'm comforted by the fact that the two of you are doing well.

I'd give anything to actually meet him, though, to hold him and kiss him and tell him his Appa loves him. Feed him, even, and play with him and wash his diapers. For now, though, you're the only one who gets to do that. So I can't really explain how much I love hearing your stories about Seojoon.

I don't really have much else to tell you right now. Every day feels the same to me, Soojung-ah, the same twenty-four hours of bloodbath rewound and replayed. When I have time, I just read through your letters to comfort myself. I think about you and Seojoon and hope that you'll be safe, and stay safe, and never go through anything close to what I've been through. Please don't start trying to imagine what that might be. I just wanted to tell you all this because it's been on my mind. The more I'm away from you, the more I just wish that you'll always be safe and happy. I like to think that I'm pretty bulletproof by now, but the more I go through, the more my heart aches to even imagine you or Seojoon having to suffer even a little bit. And I don't think I have to tell you this, but if anything ever happens in our area, please protect him with everything you have.

I'm hoping and hoping that the war would be over soon and that I'd get to return to you. It's been more than two years. I'm already imagining what it would be like; you doing your chores on a random day of the week and me just showing up at our doorstep. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to that day. Except probably you do; you probably feel the same way I do.

I've never really been a word person, you know that. I can't really write in words how much I miss you. I have to wait until the next time I see you in person and I get to touch you. But I believe that you understand my feelings, regardless.

I love you, and when I come back to you I'll show you just how much.

Jongin




He returns on a Tuesday afternoon.

Soojung was in the kitchen, chopping up carrots for dinner, when she hears a loud, high-pitched, "APPAAAAAAA!!!!!!"

Soojung runs out the door just in time to witness Baekyeon run headlong into her father's arms, Chanyoung following closely behind her. Joonmyun manages to stand upright with both children in his arms even though they're about seven years old now, and Chanyoung has shot up like a weed over the years, and Joonmyun is not particularly tall or bulky.

He sets them back down carefully and steps back a little to take a proper look at them. Soojung sees the tears streaming down his cheeks as he says, a little shakily, "Chanyoung-ah, you're two times taller than when I last saw you... Baekyeon, my princess, you're even more beautiful than I remembered. How have you been? Have you been treating your umma well?"

Both kids start babbling at superspeed, pulling him towards the house, and Soojung is so fixated on them that she almost doesn't notice Kyungri appear in the doorway. When she does, she carefully assesses Kyungri, instead. Her face looks blank, emotionless, but Soojung knows better. It stays that way as Joonmyun makes his way up the steps of their front porch. Her eyes are searching, almost as if she doesn't want to let herself believe what she's seeing. She takes one tiny step towards him.

Joonmyun smiles slightly. "Hi," he whispers, taking her face in his hands. "I'm back." Then he opens his arms and Kyungri collapses into them. Even from a distance, Soojung can feel the force of Kyungri's sobs, making her tiny body shudder violently.

Soojung is so captivated by the scene unfolding before her that she doesn't notice Seojoon standing beside her this whole time, also watching. "Umma," he pipes up, "who's that?"

"Oh, that's... that's Baekyeon noona's and Chanyoung hyung's appa, Seojoonie."

"Eung?"

"Their appa," Soojung repeats, stroking his hair.

"Appa," Seojoon repeats after her. Then, he asks, innocently, "What's an appa?"

Soojung's heart plummets to her feet.

"Umm... Appa is, um, a... a male version of umma, basically." It was probably the lamest explanation she could come up with, but her train of thought had come to a halt.

"Oh." Soojung knows, she just knows what the next question was going to be. She knows he would ask eventually, and she knows she should be ready with an answer by now. But she's not.

"Where's my appa?"




As it turns out, Joonmyun doesn't know the answer to that question, either.

"I'm not sure if Kyungri told you, but we'd been separated a couple of years back. I haven't met him since, Soojung."

Joonmyun's eyes are so kind, so empathetic, but Soojung is barely comforted. "Do you think he's still alive, oppa?"

"I can't answer that question, Soojung-ah," Joonmyun says quietly. "You know that."

She does. Of course she does.

"But if he's not, one of our families should have heard from the government," Joonmyun goes on. "They notify you when they find the body, you know. Or they might notify me."

"Is there..." Soojung swallows. "Um, is there any chance it might have been, y'know, difficult for him to send letters home?"

"Of course." His voice is so even, unwavering. "It was easy at first when we were close to a base camp. But yes, it became increasingly difficult to send letters as we were relocated to different places."

"You still did, though." Soojung knows she's speaking like a petulant child, but she couldn't help it. "You still sent letters home."

She knows it's not right to offload all her frustrations and distress on Joonmyun. She knows that he wasn't responsible for Jongin, and there was no way he could ensure Jongin's safety. It must've been hard enough to take care of himself. But to her, Joonmyun was the last thread between her and Jongin, and now it seems like even this tie is becoming severed.

"Soojung, I'm sorry." Now Joonmyun looks remorseful, and Soojung feels terrible. "I know what you want to hear. I want to hear it, too. But I don't want to lie to you. I can only tell you what I know, which isn't a lot."

"Oppa, I'm really happy you're back," Soojung whispers. "You know that, right? It's just..."

Joonmyun understands. "Come here, Soojung-ah," he says gently, and Soojung scoots closer and hugs him tight.




There is a knock at the door, and Soojung is on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor under the kitchen table. "Seojoonie, go see who it is, please," she says to her son, who obediently sets off.

He comes pattering back not long after. "Noona," he says. "Hyung and noona."

"Baekyeon noona?" Seojoon nods and Soojung gets up to her feet, wipes her hands on her apron and wonders what those two kids could probably want.

Food, it turns out. "Unni, help us, please," Baekyeon wails the second Soojung opens the door. "We're starving!"

"Um..." Soojung has food, but even now her cooking still falls way short to Kyungri's. "Um, how come you don't have food at home? Where's your umma?"

Baekyeon exchanges glances with her brother. "Um, well..."

"We think they're in their room," Chanyoung says.

Soojung lifts an eyebrow. "You think?"

"Well, they went in there last night and locked the door, and we haven't seen them since," Baekyeon explains. "And the door was still locked this morning, so maybe they're still there?"

"Oh." Oh. "Okay, well, in that case, I'll make you something to eat."

Kyungri comes for her kids a couple of hours later, just after all three had settled down for an afternoon nap. "Are they here? I thought they'd run here... We panicked so much when we found them gone... Joonmyun-oppa's run down the road, just in case..." The wind whips at her hair and Soojung catches a glimpse of bite-sized bruises adorning her neck.

"Well, they're here. Said they were hungry. They're taking a nap now."

Kyungri sighs. "I'm so sorry they bothered you."

"No, they were no bother at all." Soojung lets her in and Kyungri toes off her footwear. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Anything's fine." Kyungri studies her carefully and waits until they happen to be looking at each other before asking, "Soojung-ah, are you alright?"

Soojung tries to smile, but the corners of her mouth twist downward and she knows just how unconvincing her face must be, so she turns her head away. Kyungri says nothing and just follows the girl into the kitchen.

When they're both seated in front of two cups of tea, Soojung says tentatively, "Unni, you know I'm really happy and... relieved that Joonmyun-oppa came back. Right?"

Kyungri nods. Soojung thinks she probably already knows what Soojung was going to say.

"But I..." Her face crumples up and she buries it in her hands. "I just -- He hasn't written me a letter in so long. And if J-Joonmyun-oppa doesn't know where he is..." Kyungri reaches out to wrap her arms around Soojung's shoulders. "I just... If anything... I just miss him so, so much. And I miss being touched, too." Kyungri's hold stiffens and despite the tone of the conversation, Soojung still giggles as she glances up and witnesses Kyungri's cheeks flush. "I know why your kids went hungry, unni."

"Yah," Kyungri warns, no real bite in her voice.

Soojung sighs. "If anything, I just... I just want to know. I want to know he's okay. I'd give anything to have him back, but if I can't, I'd just like to know that he's alright."

There are unspoken words hanging in the air, words that Kyungri can't bear to say and Soojung can't bear to hear. They sip their tea in silence and Soojung attempts to swallow down her bitter feelings when Joonmyun appears, still looking for his children. She helps him carry Chanyoung without waking him up as a bleary-eyed Baekyeon clambers onto Kyungri's back after kissing Seojoon goodbye. She watches them leave with a fixed smile on her face.

She gets back into bed with Seojoon and can't help but feel that, despite his presence, there is still a palpable sense of emptiness surrounding that bed. It used to feel so full; she used to feel as if she was wrapped in a blanket of comfort and ease whenever she slid into that bed. It felt as if that blanket had been unraveled from her now, leaving her cold and bare.

She has to be that blanket for Seojoon now, she thinks as she carefully pulls the boy closer to her heart and falls into a dreamless slumber.




A few weeks after Seojoon's fourth birthday, both Kyungri and Joonmyun show up at Soojung's doorstep without either one of their kids.

When everybody's seated at the kitchen table, Joonmyun says very carefully, "They found him, Soojung."

She doesn't have to ask who.

"They did?" She couldn't help the sheer hope, excitement, anticipation that coats her voice. "Where is he? Is he alright?"

Joonmyun and Kyungri exchange glances, and Kyungri says as she takes Soojung's hand, "They found his body, sweetie."




Deep inside, Soojung already knew it, mainly because he hadn't written her a letter in years. But since nothing was definite, she just let herself believe. She had an inkling of a feeling that Joonmyun knew, too, all this time, but didn't have the heart to tell her, not when she was being so hopeful. Later, Joonmyun would explain that they really had been separated as he'd said, but there was also the fact that though nobody told him anything he'd heard that Jongin's mission had failed, and he never saw the boy again. He hadn't asked around because he didn't want to know.

Soojung understands that all too well.

And really, she didn't have it in her to be angry, or upset, or disappointed or anything but thankful towards Joonmyun. Kyungri too, who probably knew as well. They'd helped with the funeral arrangements -- they'd done the funeral arrangements -- and to the best of their abilities they'd helped Soojung cope. They have more or less invited Soojung and Seojoon into their family, and everybody pretty much treats both households as their own.

Sometimes, Seojoon stays the night with Baekyeon and Chanyoung. Those nights, Kyungri will stay with Soojung to make sure she doesn't try to hurt herself.

Soojung has considered permanently leaving Seojoon with the family next door. Even after four years of doing better than she'd thought she would, she still doubts her own capabilities as a parent. And right now she doesn't exactly trust herself to not succumb to this overwhelming grief, isn't sure she'd always be able to think rationally and make the best decisions. Getting up and going through each day is one hurdle after another, and some days she can barely hold herself together.

But she also knows she can never really leave Seojoon. Jongin had left him against his own will; what kind of a monster would she be to leave him voluntarily. She might not be the most reliable parent right now, but she knows that she could be in the future, could make herself good enough for Seojoon.

And whenever she's holding a razor blade in her hands or staring at that one coil of rope in the backyard, she tells herself that this is the irrational side of her mind talking, that this can't possibly be what's best for Seojoon. That's what really matters now -- everything she does should be for Seojoon's benefit. There is no room for selfishness, no easy way out. If she has to suffer for the rest of her life, she would do it for Seojoon.




One night, Soojung sits at the kitchen table with the meager contents of her Jongin memory box scattered on the worn wood. The little ceramic trinkets he'd made her. The remnants of the flower he once sent, nothing more than withered shreds. The few photographs she has of the two of them, and of him alone. The dumb "couple bracelet" he'd made out of braided grass, dried and browned by now but still in one piece. His letters -- and in her hands, the one he'd written the morning he left.

"Umma?"

Soojung turns her head towards the doorway of her bedroom. "It's late, baby," she chides gently. "Why are you up?" Even as she says those words, she is holding her arms out towards her son, who toddles into them without hesitation. She picks him up and he nestles into the space between her crossed legs. "Can't sleep?"

"Mmm." Seojoon leans into his mother's hand as she strokes his cheek. "Baekyeon-noona says that my appa is in heaven, umma."

Soojung's breath catches a little. She realizes then that she'd never once talked to him about this.

"Is that true, umma?" Seojoon cranes his neck back to look at his mother. "Where is heaven? Can we see him?"

Soojung tightens her hold around him. "We can't see him, sweetie," she begins. "Um... I..." She takes a deep breath. Do four-year-olds even know about death? She couldn't exactly tell him death is what happened to the ant he'd accidentally stepped on yesterday. She didn't want him to picture his father as a dead ant for the rest of his life. "We're alive right now, aren't we? We're breathing, moving, we can still see and talk and hear... Your appa, um..." She stutters and Seojoon slips his tiny hand into hers. "He's not alive the way we are," she concludes. "He's gone."

Seojoon picks up a photograph. "Is this him?" he asks, touching his fingertip to the surface.

"That's him, Seojoon-ah." It was the last photograph they'd ever taken. Joonmyun had just gotten a new camera, and it had proved to be much more complicated to use than he'd thought. Soojung and Jongin had been the subjects of a whole bunch of test shoots, and while the photoshoot had seemed to drag on forever she couldn't be more grateful for that right now. Anyway, that day was filled with much laughter, and chatter, and snacks courtesy of Kyungri. Baekyeon and Chanyoung had woven in and out of the frames, followed by the puppies. But the one Seojoon was holding was just of the two of them, sitting on Joonmyun's sofa, arms around each other, smiling right at the camera.

"Did he disappear? Where's heaven, then?"

"It's kind of hard to explain, sweetie. I don't know everything, because I'm still alive, aren't I? I can't really know what happens when you stop living." Seojoon accepts this logic with a little nod. "But when you stop living, your body stays here. We assume that the other part of you goes to heaven. Your appa didn't disappear. His body's still around."

"Can we go see him?"

"You can't really see his body, Seojoon-ah." Soojung knows she has to shut down any weird ideas he might have before he could come up with them. "But I can take you to him, if you like." She should probably go, too, anyway. She hadn't gone since the funeral, and even then she could barely look at the casket. "We've been there, once. Do you remember once we went to a field, and there were lots of people, and everyone wore black?"

Seojoon nods. His thumb is in his mouth.

"Well." Soojung kisses the top of his head. "They've all come to see him off."

They sit in silence for a while, Soojung rocking her son back and forth and patting him gently in an effort to coax him back to sleep. She thought he'd dozed off when a small, sleepy voice suddenly pipes up, "Umma?"

"Yes, baby."

He stands up suddenly until he's face to face with Soojung. "I love you, umma," he tells her, pecking her on the lips. "I love you, I love you."

Soojung's mouth goes dry as her eyes grow moist. She knew, then, that she would always stay with Seojoon no matter what it took. "I love you too, Seojoonie," she whispers as he hooks his arms around his neck and rests his head on her shoulder. "I love you so much."

She goes back to rocking him and patting his back and she can tell he's really drifting off this time, by the way his grip around her neck starts to loosen and how his head starts falling off her shoulder. She rearranges his position to cradle him in her arms.

She goes back to the letter she'd been holding before Seojoon came to her and finally gets the courage to re-read it.

Dear Soojung,

There is nothing I want more than to never leave, to stay by your side until the end. Second to that, I wish I could promise you that I'd return to your arms in one piece.

But I can do neither. I have no choice. And I know you deserve so much more, but all I can give you is this letter with my heart inside it.

When we got married, I never expected love. Friendship, companionship, a working relationship, sure. I was trying to be realistic, to not set up my hopes too high. And, well, I'm sure you know what happened with Kyungri-noona. We were both so young and I was so idealistic back then that when she got married, I was crushed. I told myself that some things were just too good to be true.

But then, I fell in love with you so slowly and surely that by the time I realized it, it took me by surprise. I thought this, too, was too good to be true. And I didn't want to believe it. But then you loved me back and the future just seemed so beautiful, growing old with you, raising the kids and probably real kids, too. Our journey was just beginning and I couldn't wait to go through it all. Except now I'm being torn apart from you and though I can't bear to even think it, much less put it down on paper, I know there's a very real chance that I won't ever end up going through the rest of that journey with you.

I need you to remember that you're never alone. Firstly I'll always be with you in spirit, you know that. And there's our families, and I have faith that Kyungri-noona will always be around for you. And Joonmyun-hyung, I hope he makes it back even if I don't. He'll take care of you, too. And you, have faith in yourself. You're strong enough, too, and you have to start seeing that. You don't really need to depend on me as much as you think you do, Soojung-ah. You'll be fine no matter what happens to me. Take care of yourself, alright? Take care of yourself for me.

If we have a child, I know you'd be an incredible parent. Please let him know that I love him, too, regardless of whether or not we end up meeting. I know he'd grow up well under your care. You know, I think you perceive that I've been taking care of you this whole time, but you've been taking care of me, too. And you'd be able to take care of our kid if we have one. With or without me.

Right before I left, before you woke up, I told you that I loved you and that someday you'd wake up next to me again. And whether or not I survive this war, I'm putting faith in that, Soojung. Someday.

Love, Jongin

Soojung folds the letter up carefully and carries Seojoon back to bed.

That night, with her baby in her arms, she accepts that she would probably never get over Jongin's death. But she also knows that she will learn to live with it and that, eventually, she would be alright.




Soojung, Joonmyun and Kyungri watch from a short distance as their children interact with a gravestone like it's an everyday occurence.

"Nini hyung," Chanyoung is saying as Seojoon holds his hand and stares up at him. Across them, Baekyeon has her arms around the stone. "Nini hyung, this is our new dongsaeng, Seojoonie. He belongs to Soojung-noona the way I belong to my umma."

"And he belongs to you the way I belong to my appa," Baekyeon says softly. It's the quietest Soojung has ever heard her speak.

Out of the corner of her eye, Soojung sees Kyungri wrap her arms around Joonmyun's waist and bury her face in his chest. She opts to look at the ground.

"We miss you," Chanyoung continues. "I hope you're doing alright. I'm taking really good care of the puppies. Jjanggu is so much skinnier now, and he can run as fast as the others... I'm really tall now, hyung. I'm way taller than Baekyeonnie, and I can pick her up when she annoys me." Baekyeon snorts at that. "I can pick up Seojoon, too, because Seojoon's really tiny. Soojung noona hopes he'll grow to be taller than you. I hope so too, because he'll need to protect Soojung noona eventually." Soojung and Kyungri exchange glances at that. "But I remember you to be huge, hyung. I don't know how long it will take Seojoon to grow that big. Do you remember when you used to put me on your shoulders? I felt like I was on top of the world..."

Soojung takes deep breaths and fiddles with her hair as she sneaks furtive glances at her son. Seojoon is hugging Chanyoung's leg, half-burying his face into the elder's side, and is also sneaking glances at his mom. Finally he lets go of Chanyoung's leg and toddles back to Soojung.

"Come here, kids," Joonmyun calls out softly as Baekyeon finishes talking. "Let's give them some time alone."

They obey, and Baekyeon throws her arms up at her father while Chanyoung clings on to his leg. Soojung watches as Joonmyun bends down to take Chanyoung's face in his hand and kiss the top of his head, and proceed to pick Baekyeon up and let her wrap her arms around his neck and rest her head against his shoulder. The twins are eight, a little too old to be carried around, but Baekyeon is as tiny as her brother is tall.

Soojung walks closer to the gravestone and sits down, cross-legged, on the ground. Seojoon clambers into her lap. She reads the inscription to occupy her mind. Kim Jongin, it reads, beloved son, brother, husband, father, friend.

But he was more than just my husband, she thinks to herself as the tears finally spill over. He was my soulmate.

She cries into Seojoon's hair, and the boy seems to understand as he lets himself be rocked back and forth and doesn't comment on the steady stream of water seeping into his scalp. As her sobs start to die down, Seojoon stands up and puts his arms around her neck. He doesn't say anything, just kisses her cheek and then her lips, which makes her smile.

It's a while before Soojung was able to speak. "Jongin-ah," she whispers. "It's me. It's me, Soojung, and your son, Seojoonie."

"Hi, appa," Seojoon says quietly.

Soojung takes a deep breath. "I miss you so much," she says. "I miss everything about you, I miss everything you do. I miss the way you distract me when I cook. I miss the way you never let me get up before midday, and the way you leave your clothes all over the place. The way you never do the dishes unless I tell you to. I miss the way you trip up over nothing when you're half-asleep, and the sounds you make when you're asleep, and the way you..." She glances at her son and decides to stop there. "But most of all I miss the way you hold me and make me feel like everything will always be okay."

She tightens her arms around Seojoon. "Now you've given me someone to hold on to, instead," she says. "Someone to protect, someone to take care of. And I'm forever grateful for that. He's my main purpose for living, now, the light of my life. And though I still miss you so much that it hurts, I want you to know that I'll be okay, Jongin-ah. I'll be okay for you and for our son. I just.... I just wish, so much, that you'd had the chance to meet him."

She sighs before continuing. "I pray that in another life you would. I pray that you'd meet him and be his best friend. I pray you'll meet Kyungri-unni again, and she'll take care of you like she did in this life, and Joonmyun-oppa too. Baek and Chanyoung, you never got to see them grown up... I wish you would, and that they'll play with you and make you laugh. And lastly, I... I..." She pauses. "I just wish I can wake up next to you again, someday. The last I remember of you was falling asleep next to you, and I just... someday, I wish we could just pick up where we left off."

She smiles wryly. Seojoon had sit back down and he looks like he's getting drowsy. "But until then, there's nothing I can do in this life but wait. Just know that I love you still and I'll love you always." She picks Seojoon up and gets on her feet. "I'll see you next time, my love."

1948.

Soojung is getting married.

It’s an arranged marriage, but it could be worse, she supposes. She knows him, somewhat, they’ve lived in the same neighborhood all their lives. They’ve played in the same fields, passed by each other in the school hallways, and she has to admit he’s grown up to be quite a handsome young man. She knows he's a good dancer because she'd seen him at school events, performances and even during physical education, but her mother tells her he’s got a more practical career option and is apprenticed to his father, the best potter in the village. She only hears good things about him, that he’s a little shy but sweet and genuinely kind, and is apparently very strong because his father’s made him collect firewood for his kiln for years.

It could be a lot worse, but it could be better, too. Because a lot of the things she hears about him she hears from her next-door neighbor Kyungri, and the reason why she knows about him as well as she does is because they used to be lovers. And Soojung knows that the only reason why they stopped being lovers is because Kyungri was arranged to marry someone else.

“Don’t overthink this, Soojung-ah.” Soojung was sitting at her neighbor’s kitchen table and Kyungri’s back was turned towards her as she was cooking something on the stove. “So we did see each other, and if I hadn’t gotten married then things might have turned out differently, but I did get married and soon you’re getting married too. Why does it have to mean anything now that Jongin and I were… you know…” Kyungri’s voice trails off as she reaches for the salt.

“I know you’re not together anymore, unni. You’re obviously married. With kids,” Soojung points out. “But just because you’re not together it doesn’t mean… Maybe I’m being too idealistic given our circumstances but I’d like to marry for love. And we may not be in love right now, yet, but I’m just hoping, eventually…”

“And you can be, Soojung,” Kyungri says firmly. “Eventually. You can. Please don’t tell me you’re afraid of marrying him because you think he’s still in love with me.”

The atmosphere grows quiet, and Kyungri sighs as she gets out two ceramic bowls. They were beautiful, glazed with celadon. Jongin’s father probably made them. “It’s not as ridiculous as you’re implying it to be, unni,” Soojung mumbles. “He was infatuated with you.”

Kyungri stays silent as she ladles kimchi jjigae into the bowls. Soojung doesn’t say that what she really feels is that she just doesn’t measure up to Kyungri, the perfect, quintessential housewife, only a year older than her and yet so much more competent at — well, everything. Aside from her sister, Soojung has looked up to Kyungri for as long as she’s lived next door, which was all her life. They were closer in age and Soojung had witnessed from a close proximity how Kyungri was always the smartest student in class, how she always appeared sweet and delicate and yet managed to beat up any boy who disturbed her, how she breezed through puberty and blossomed as a beautiful young woman, petite and curvy with doe eyes and silky hair. In comparison, Soojung feels like an overgrown child.

It’s no wonder, really, that almost every boy in the neighborhood has had a crush on Kyungri, and that Kim Jongin was in love with her for years. Is probably still in love with her.

“Look, Soojung, I honestly don’t know what he feels about me now,” Kyungri admits as she pushes the bowl in front of Soojung’s face. “But don’t let me get in the way of your relationship. Even if he… does have feelings for me, he’s reasonable. Regardless, I know he’ll try to make it work… and promise me you won’t compare yourself to me, promise me you’ll build a new relationship with him and that it’ll be you, you being yourself and no one else.”

“I promise,” Soojung says meekly in between sips of her soup. “Just… Do you think you can teach me how to cook?”




Even by the time their wedding came around, they haven't really spoken much to each other.

Soojung doesn't remember every single detail about that day. She remembers that it was kind of awkward between them, so in a way she was somehow grateful for the complicated wedding ceremony because at least it gave them something to focus on. She also remembers exchanging shy smiles with him countless times that day, which, at that time, was probably like their most preferred method of communication.

But what she remembers the most was when they danced.

Soojung was not a dancer by any means. But somehow, it was so easy to fall into step with Jongin as he gently guides her around his movements. His hand on the small of her back felt so steady, secure. And somehow that tells her that their marriage will be just fine, that he's dependable, that they'll be able to figure this out together.

So when they finish the dance, she takes the hand he offers her, intertwining their fingers. And when they smile at each other, it's less awkward and more reassuring. By the end of the night, Soojung tells herself that if she had to spend the rest of her life with one person, she probably wouldn't mind spending it with Jongin.




Despite the unavoidable initial awkwardness, Soojung finds that she likes living with Jongin.

He helps her make the bed every morning before he goes to his father’s workshop. He tolerates her cooking, which was still mediocre at best. He has three dogs and brings them over to their new house, and though they add to her chores they keep her company during the day when he’s at his father’s place. And besides, he helps with her chores whenever he is at home, which is honestly more than what she expects him to do.

He tells her not to do laundry by herself and to wait for him to get home so that he could help her, and it becomes something of a ritual for them to do laundry together. Soojung thinks there’s something incredibly sweet about a husband who helps her separate the lights and darks and always insists on carrying the heavy load of laundry.

He makes her lots of things, mugs and bowls and plates as well as little trinkets like a tiny ceramic rabbit and a ring engraved with their initials. He’s sweet and earnest and Soojung likes him a lot, and she really doesn’t mind being married to him.

She’s appreciative towards him and wants to be a better wife, wants to love and comfort and spoil him. She knows his little habits by now — learns that he likes sleeping past lunchtime, likes his coffee really sweet, doesn’t like wearing shirts inside the house (which still makes her blush if she’s being really honest). But she feels that she could do more, at least get better at cooking and cleaning and sewing, and that’s where Kyungri comes in.

Soojung could not be more grateful to Kyungri for guiding her through this maze of new adulthood, being basically a human version of How To Be a Housewife for Dummies. Still, she tries to get Kyungri out of the house before Jongin gets home.

Because her heart kind of drops a little whenever he looks at Kyungri with stars in his eyes, whenever he stutters out a shy “Hi, Kyungri-noona.” She doesn’t miss the subtle shift of Kyungri’s face either, the way it melts from its usual indifferent expression to one of affection. And maybe she’s overthinking, reading into the situation too much because of course they were still important to each other, and they probably found it a little odd and yet exhilarating at the same time to be around each other with the given circumstances. Soojung just can’t help but be a little left out, jealous, wanting to have a bigger piece of his heart than Kyungri did.

And she knows that he likes her okay, does his best to treat her well, but she feels like that’s done partly out of obligation, trying to do his part to make the marriage work. Somehow that’s not really enough for Soojung. She wants this to be more than just a working relationship. She wants love, because she’s never been in love before.



They kiss for the first time six months into their marriage.

Their development is pretty slow, especially if you take into account that Kyungri was pregnant about four months into her marriage. But Soojung is awkward and Jongin is shy and they never really discussed their physical boundaries, didn’t really know how to bring it up. Soojung does want to be physically intimate with him but she doesn’t know if it’s appropriate for her to say so.

One balmy Saturday afternoon, they pack up some food in a basket and take their dogs out for a walk, ending up on a grassy hilltop overlooking the village. They were sitting down and leaning against a tree, Jongin’s arm loosely draped around Soojung’s shoulders as she absent-mindedly feeds him kimbap. He threads her fingers through hers when she runs out of kimbap to give and she lets him, not really paying attention as she watches Jjangah and Monggu chase a butterfly. Jjanggu is getting really fat, she muses as the third poodle waddles up to his playmates. Don’t I feed them all the same thing..? Has he been taking food from Monggu?

“Hey, do you think Jjanggu’s too fat…” Soojung’s voice trails off as she turns to look at her husband. Jongin is looking at her with an unusual expression on his face; affectionate and contemplative, eyes warm and a tiny smile on his lips. “Uhh… Jongin-ah?”

And then Jongin suddenly leans over and pecks her on the lips. It was short and chaste, really not a big deal at all, but she was so taken aback that she jerks her head back and bangs it against the tree trunk. A vision of poise and grace. “Ow!”

“I’m sorry!” He backs off immediately, scooting further away from her. "I just -- I just thought that I -- I mean, we, you know -- "

Soojung bursts out laughing. "Jongin, it's okay," she says. "I was just surprised."

His expression shifts from apprehensive to relieved. "Okay," he says. Then, almost shyly, he adds, "I've wanted to do that for a while, actually."

His face is so earnest, so open. Soojung feels a little giddy. "Me too," she manages to say, and to prove her statement she leans forward and presses her lips back on to his. He froze in shock for approximately two seconds before parting his lips and pulling her close.

They slow-kiss and snuggle under that tree for hours, until the poodles have gotten tired of exploring the hill and the sky starts turning orange.




They become a lot more affectionate after that.

They start by exchanging quick hugs and kisses each time they part ways, and whenever they meet again. It was then that Soojung finds out that Jongin is naturally clingy, and likes randomly draping himself all over her when she’s cooking or reading on the couch or watering the plants. Sometimes, when Jongin gets especially clingy in the kitchen and Soojung gets distracted by him nosing along the line of her neck, they end up making out and burning the food. The first couple of times it happens Soojung frets about it, but then Jongin will say “Don’t worry about it”, pick her up and carry her to their bedroom.

The first time was awkward and painful, at least for Soojung, but it didn't take too long for them to get used to one another. Soon it became easy for them to express their affection through their bodies, and they become more comfortable with each other in general as well.

Saturday mornings then become devoted to lying in between the sheets until about eleven a.m., which is less romantic than it sounds in their case due to Jongin being asleep the whole time and Soojung wide-awake and trapped among his limbs. But Soojung finds that she is content being his personal body pillow, held in his arms like that, staring at his face for hours on end. He frowns in his sleep, sometimes, eyebrows furrowing and full lips forming a pout. Sometimes he'd tuck his own head under Soojung's chin, burrowing into her neck, while other times he'd pull her under his own chin and she'd curl into his chest. All while asleep.

And then when he'd awake at long last, they'd snuggle and kiss for another half hour or so before Soojung decides that she'd lost all feeling in her arms and legs and should get up to start preparing lunch. Jongin would protest and Soojung would struggle out of his grasp for about another fifteen minutes. Essentially, neither of them is usually out of bed before midday. But once Jongin is up with food in his system, he's very helpful with Soojung's chores and they get things done even with the extremely late start in the day.




Jongin is not naturally good with kids. Not exactly. Not with all kids. But he has two nieces and a nephew, and now the kids next door, and they all like him fine. The kids next door like him a little too much.

Kyungri is probably the most placid person Soojung has ever encountered in her life, and her husband Joonmyun is equally calm and mild-mannered. It is beyond Soojung how they could have twins that are not unlike a pair of firecrackers, unable to sit still for more than 0.3 seconds, with little to no understanding of the concept of inside voices.

Kyungri-unni barely spoke more than one sentence at a time until she was nine, Soojung thinks to herself as she watches Kyungri's three-year-old daughter, seated on Jongin's knee, babble animatedly. Baekyeon's speaking in whole paragraphs already, limited vocabulary and all. She smiles fondly at the little girl, pretty with almond-shaped eyes like Joonmyun's. Her mouth becomes rectangular when she laughs, or smiles widely, or shouts, and most of the time she is doing one or the other. Her twin brother Chanyoung is playing with the dogs, running around the living room with them and laughing boisterously. He has Kyungri's eyes, as large and round as Baekyeon's are small and oval, and plush lips also inherited from his mother.

"Nini hyung~" Chanyoung has suddenly decided that he didn't want his sister stealing all of Jongin's attention, and abandoned the dogs in favor of hugging Jongin's leg. Jongin smiles down at him fondly as he says, "Up, hyung, up."

There is a knock on the door just as Chanyoung settles down on Jongin's other knee, and Soojung goes over to open it. As she predicted, it was Kyungri. "I've come to take my kids back," she says brightly. "Though I have a feeling they won't want to come home."

"Yeah, well, they're currently attached to Jongin's knees." Soojung leads her to the living room where the twins are fighting for Jongin's attention by trying to out-talk one another. "Hey, kids, your mom's here."

"UMMMAAAA!!" Baekyeon shrieks, and Jongin winces. Chanyoung is completely immune.

"Kids, come here." The twins share a brief look, then immediately scramble off Jongin's knees and run to their mother. Her tone is amiable enough, but both kids know better than to test that. "We'd best get going."

"Umma, can we take Nini-oppa home with us, please?" Jongin chokes on his glass of water and Soojung tries to muffle her laughter, hiding behind him.

Kyungri is not surprised by this question. "I don't know, Baek, you'll have to ask Soojung-unni."

"You can't just take him from me, Baekyeon-ah," Soojung says after recovering herself, looping her arms around Jongin's neck and propping her chin on his shoulder. "Who's gonna keep me company here?"

Baekyeon thinks for a moment, then grabs her brother's arm. "I'll trade you Chanyoungie!" she says brightly, and Chanyoung squawks in indignation. "He can... he can... he can take care of the puppies! And he's, um... he's great at jumping on the bed! And also, he's, uh..." She wrinkles her nose as she tries to think of more. "Well, he's not much use at anything, really," she admits, and her brother gives her a shove. "But he's fun!" she concludes her little advertisement.

"You can't just trade people like that, Baek," Jongin chides gently. "We don't belong to anybody. Though, I suppose, Chanyoungie belongs to your umma." He tilts his head a little and pecks Soojung's cheek. "And I belong to your Soojung-unni."




Everything starts crumbling down one sunny Saturday morning.

Soojung thinks she hears a knock on the front door. She tries to get up but it isn’t easy when Jongin’s still asleep and holding on tight to her, whimpering when she tries to move away.

Finally, she manages to pry herself off him, get dressed and opens the front door to see Kyungri’s husband standing on the doorstep. “I’m sorry for the wait, Joonmyun-oppa,” she apologizes with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

“It’s okay, Soojung-ah. I assume Jongin’s still asleep?”

“Er, yeah. Please come in, oppa, I’ll wake him up for you.” She leads him to the kitchen and pours him a glass of cold water before going back into her bedroom.

"Jongin-ah." She takes out the pillow underneath his head and hits him with it. "Wake up."

He gives a little discontented grunt and pulls the covers over his head.

Soojung hits a little harder. "Yah, get up! Get up!"

Suddenly Jongin emerges from under all the blankets, grabs her arms and pulls her towards him. Startled, she topples on top of him and shrieks with laughter as he wraps his arms and legs around her and squeezes tight. "Jongin, stop," she gasps, a little breathless from laughing, as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. "Hey, stop. Joonmyun-oppa's here to see you."

Jongin stops nuzzling her neck. "Joonmyun-hyung?"

"Yeah."

"Why..? It's a Saturday morning..."

"Well, you would know if you got up. And it's not morning anymore." Soojung wrestles out of his grip and manages to drag him out of bed with her. "So get a move on."

Soojung leaves them to talk in the kitchen and does a couple of small chores around the house before returning to cook lunch. When she does, the two men are oddly silent, and she gives them a quizzical look. Joonmyun looks solemn, and Jongin looks... sad. "What's wrong?"

"Soojung, come here," Jongin says softly and she comes over to sit on his lap. "Joonmyun-hyung's just been telling me about the civil war."

An uneasy feeling stirs up in Soojung's gut.

"Things aren't looking good, so they're expanding the militia," Joonmyun continues. "They're looking in every village now, and they're requiring one man from each household."

"Soojung, you know what this means, right?" Soojung slumps weakly against him and nods.




The night before Jongin leaves, Soojung retreats to bed extremely early, before he gets home, and weeps alone in the darkness.

She's wanted to cry ever since she knew he was leaving but she's tried so hard to hold it in for his sake. She knows he must be scared, too, and the least she could do was put on a brave face. But she just needed to let it out so badly, all the anguish and fear and uneasy feeling of uncertainty, and the fact that he was leaving tomorrow brings all those feelings up to a climax.

She hopes to be done with her grieving by the time he comes home, but when he pokes his head around their bedroom door she's still curled up in fetal position with tears running down her face. She was in such a state she barely noticed his presence until he slips in under the sheets next to her, wraps an arm around her waist and gently wipes her tears away with his thumb. "Soojungie."

Soojung knows it's too late by now to pretend she's not crying. "Do you really have to leave?" she chokes out, turning to face him. Jongin responds by kissing her forehead, and eyelids when she closes her eyes. The tears are still coming but at least her breathing is even now.

"I love you." Her breathing hitches; she knows they're very fond of and extremely comfortable around one another by now, but neither of them had said those words out loud before. "I love you so much, Soojung-ah. I just want you to know that."

"I love you too," she whispers, fresh tears falling down her cheeks. "Please come back to me."

Jongin is quiet for a while. "I can't promise you that, but I will try."

"I know you will."

He slides one hand under the silk robe she has on and kisses the underside of her jaw. "Take care of the kids for me."

Soojung snorts. "I'm always the one taking care of them, anyway," she replies and feels him smile against her skin.

"Maybe you won't burn the food without me around to distract you." He slips the robe off her shoulders easily and eases her body underneath his.

"That's assuming I have someone to cook for."

He pauses and frowns. "Take good care of yourself, okay? Promise me. Don't forget to eat, stay warm, go out for a walk every once in a while..." His fingers dip between her thighs and Soojung finds it hard to concentrate on his words. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," she whispers, parting her legs. "Just... take care of me right now."




For the first time since they started living together, Jongin wakes up before Soojung does.

He gives himself time to hold her close and observe her beautiful, sleeping face, but he has to be gone by sunrise and he wants to be gone before she wakes up. Because he still hasn't figured out how to say goodbye, and if she starts to cry again he probably wouldn't be able to go.

He slips out of bed as stealthily as possible, and his heart starts to palpitate painfully when she whimpers and curls into the warm spot on the bed he had just vacated. He forces himself to get dressed and pack his bag before returning to her, kneeling by their bed. He lets himself stroke her hair and drop feather-light kisses on her face, down her neck and on her bare shoulders before checking the time and making himself move along. Somehow, he feels a little bad for leaving her to deal with the soiled sheets, but there was obviously nothing he can do about them now. He had just enough time for one more thing.

He finds some stationery and brings it out to the kitchen where there's light. There he writes a letter, and it's fairly quick because he already knows what he wants to write, has been running through the words in his head ever since he got the news from Joonmyun. He finishes writing and folds it up into an envelope. Then, because he doesn't want her to read that one just yet, he writes a second note. Short and sweet, just saying that he loves her and he'll be back soon.

He hides the first letter in his underwear drawer and puts the note next to the bed. Then he kneels and kisses her lips. "I love you," he whispers. "Someday you'll wake up next to me again."




Soojung finds out she is pregnant about four months after Jongin goes to war.

She’s been throwing up for weeks already, but she didn’t give it much thought as she was still pretty much distraught by Jongin leaving and assumed it was some sort of side effect, as she also had occasional headaches and felt extremely weepy at times. One time, though, she felt extremely nauseous and since Kyungri happened to be at her house, she made her some special tea.

As Soojung tearfully recounts the symptoms of her separation from Jongin, Kyungri carefully observes the girl. “Soojung-ah,” she says slowly, “do you remember when you last got your period?”

Soojung shakes her head. “I don’t keep track of things like that, unni, I just — ”

“Do you remember getting it after Jongin left?”

Soojung thinks about it. “Um… no, I don’t think so.”

“Soojung, come here,” Kyungri says softly and Soojung scoots closer, letting Kyungri rub a hand across her lower abdomen.

“Soojung,” Kyungri says again, so gently that Soojung knows what she is about to say before she even says it.

“Unni, no,” Soojung whispers, not even daring to touch her own stomach.

“Soojung…”

Soojung sinks her head into her hands. “I can’t,” she says so quietly Kyungri almost doesn’t hear her. “I can’t do this by myself.”

Kyungri pulls her closer and lets Soojung cry into her lap. “You have me,” she reminds her. As if on cue, Chanyoung toddles into the kitchen and makes a beeline for his mother. “Umma!” he intones, bright and cheery. “I’m hungry!”

Kyungri smiles at her son. “Hey, sweetie, you’re awake,” she says and watches as he peers curiously at Soojung. “Umma, what’s wrong with noona?” Soojung peels herself off Kyungri and tries to compose herself for the kid’s sake, but Chanyoung sees through her and climbs on her lap. “Don’t be sad, noona,” he says sweetly, hugging her neck and kissing the tears off her cheeks. “Don’t be sad, Chanyoungie loves you.”

“UMMMAAAAAAAA!!”

The other child barges in with her arms outstretched towards Kyungri, who picks her up. She, too, stares in interest as her twin brother does his best to cheer Soojung up, but his sweet gestures only make her feel more choked up. Finally he just lets himself be held as Soojung wraps her arms around him.

“Umma, you should cook for Soojung unni,” Baekyeon says brightly. “Then maybe she will feel better, and Chanyoungie and I can eat.”

“Okay, I get it, you’re hungry,” Kyungri laughs as she gets up to make them food, Baekyeon still clinging on to her neck. “Baekyeon-ah, get off me, Umma can’t cook like this.” Baekyeon doesn’t heed her word and Kyungri has to deal with it.

Soojung buries her nose in Chanyoung’s hair and inhales his sweet baby scent. Caring for two kids alone must be difficult for Kyungri, but are they actually more a source of comfort than trouble? Chanyoung and Baekyeon especially are a lot of work, but there is something about their sweetness and childish innocence that makes up for it, and maybe nothing in this world would make you feel better than a child’s embrace.

Later that night, when the twins are fast asleep and Soojung is lying down beside Kyungri, she says again, “Unni, I’m not ready to have a baby.”

Kyungri is silent for a moment. “I don’t know what to tell you, Soojung,” she says finally. “You have to be ready. And when the time comes, you can be. You will be. You have to force yourself to be strong, sometimes.”

Soojung takes a deep breath and lets it out. Lying down, she can very clearly see the contours of the bump. She touches it tentatively as she begins to close her eyes and tells herself that this child is the closest thing to Jongin she can have right now, and that at least should help ease the pain.




Soojung-ah,

Don't worry about me. I'm alright. Well, as alright as I can be given these circumstances. I'm so glad I got put together with Joonmyun-hyung because he's been a great help, and comfort, to me in so many ways.

The physical aspect of combat is not that hard. It's more of the fact that I get startled by rustling leaves, and that the more nervous I get the clumsier I become, and that I have to do things I'd never thought I would ever do.

I've killed people now, and I know that's probably not a surprise considering that's what I was sent here to do. But I still can't believe I did it, and I can't help feeling ashamed, though I know -- and this is not something I'm proud of, either -- I'd kill anything and anyone if it means keeping you safe and going back to you in one piece.

I'm so terribly homesick. I miss the warmth and comfort of our home. I miss you. I miss the kids.

Which brings me to your news. I'm so, so happy, Soojung-ah, of course I am. Our first child that isn't a poodle. But, well, I'm sad too. Sad that I'm not there for you right now, sad that I don't know for sure whether or not I'll be home by the time he/she arrives. I'm hoping like crazy that I will be.

For now, all I can do is send you and the kid my love.

And the flower, well, the battlefield is dry and barren but I somehow stumbled upon this. I just, well, I thought it was like a symbol. Of hope. And I know me pulling it out of the ground and killing it just ruins the metaphor but I so badly wanted to send you something. I actually tried making something, out of earth and a bit of water in the hopes it'd act like clay but all it became was a mud pie, so this is what you get.

Tell Kyungri-noona to take good care of you. I hope she's doing well, and the twins too.

Joonmyun-hyung is telling me to hurry. He says hi, by the way.

Love,

Jongin




With Kyungri's help, Soojung adjusts to her pregnancy.

She'd been neglecting to eat properly before, but now she's monitoring her diet carefully, helped by Kyungri's laundry list of good things to eat while pregnant. For the most part, she tries to completely focus on staying healthy, and that redirects her overwhelming emotions.

Except, of course, the moments when her hormones kicked in and she could do little to fight them. During those moments she'd just retreat to her bed and wallow in gloom. She'd let herself cry and sleep as much as she pleased, not really knowing how else to deal with her feelings as she'd been relatively apathetic for most of her life.




Soojung-ah,

I really hate that I can't be there for you when you're feeling down. But whenever I feel dejected here, I find that it helps to think about happier times. And then, I mean, after that sometimes I feel even worse because I return to reality, but at least for a while, I can pretend I'm reliving the past.

I don't even know how I got around to thinking this. But whenever I think about the beginning of us, I feel that we were very... young. Kyungri noona married when she was younger than both of us when we got married but she somehow seemed like an adult straight away? While with us, I sort of felt like we were playing house. And I don't mean that as a bad thing. I think we've briefly talked about this once and if I remember correctly you mentioned you felt the same way. Adulthood seemed like such a foreign concept at that time, and everyone kept telling me that I have to be the man of the house now, while I didn't even know what that really meant. Also -- you've brought this up a couple of times and I've never been able to answer, but I thought about it. Honestly, I think that was why Kyungri-noona and I couldn't work out in the end. Because in the end, I was a child to her. Eventually I understood that. How could I be the head of her household if she's the one taking care of me, that sort of thing.

The difference is, with you, I felt like we were on the same level and that we were helping each other out. It didn't really matter that neither of us knew what we were doing at first because we were learning together. And after a while adulthood doesn't seem like a burden, does it? We had a routine and we had a little extra time on the side. And we somehow got to be kids and adults at the same time. I mean, we were able to manage a household and raise kids together -- okay, dogs aren't kids and they don't really count, but still. They show that we're responsible. Okay, they show that you're responsible since you're always the one feeding them and all but they're my kids first. And other times you do dumb things with me like try to fit inside the laundry basket. Starting water fights when you're doing the dishes or in the bath. Piling up the kids on me when I'm asleep. Actually, you prank me a lot when I'm asleep. Remember that one time you braided all my hair in little braids and wouldn't help me undo any of them.

And now we've got some more growing up to do and our own battles to face, you with our baby and me with the war. We have no time to be children anymore these days. But, well, what use is it constantly reminding ourselves that we're not together in this time of struggle? Let's try to look forward, look at the future. Think about how, when this is all over, we'll get to be together again, and with a new addition to our family.

That's what I try to focus on most of the time, these days. Happy things. I miss you so much that I try to remember the past with you, and imagine the future with you. I know that this isn't enough, but it's all we have and for now it would have to make do.

Be patient, my love.

Jongin




Halfway into her third trimester, Soojung's mother and a midwife come to stay at her house. Kyungri is often there, too, and as a result her children were witnesses to the expansion of Soojung's belly.

Of course, they ask plenty of questions. But seeing as they were only four, Kyungri didn't see the need to explain in great detail. She just did a lot of reassuring that no, Soojung-unni is not sick, and no, Soojung-unni was not cursed by a witch and no, Soojung-noona was definitely not bitten by a bear and mutated. This is something natural and a part of life which I will explain when you're older.

Soojung didn't feel very well in the last couple of weeks of her pregnancy, so the memory of that time was nothing but a blur of headaches, soup, stomach pains and sleep. Since she was semi-delirious most of that time, it was a good thing that her mother happened to be in the room when her water broke.

Soojung hadn't even realized. Her contractions had barely started then. All she knew was that one second she was falling asleep and the next, three women were suddenly crowded around her bed and telling her to stay calm and breathe deeply. It took a while for her to register what was happening, and when she did, her eyes fill with tears.

"Shh, it's okay," her mother whispers, stroking her hair. "It's okay, Soojung-ah. Don't be scared."

She grips her mother's hand as a surge of pain travels up her spine. But she can't seem to stop the tears as more contractions come her way, each one more painful and grueling than the last. At one point, she feels Kyungri wipe her face with a damp cloth and asking, "Do you want anything, Soojung-ah? Some water?"

Soojung was downright sobbing by this point. "Jongin," she manages to say. "I want Jongin."

There was a silence, which Soojung doesn't even realize because another contraction had come then, so strong it made her cringe. Once that contraction was over, she opens her eyes to find Kyungri kneeling next to her. "Soojung," she says gently, "let's not think about him right now, okay? Let's focus on what's going on now. Let's focus on your baby."

Two hours later, the midwife finally places a squalling baby boy in Soojung's arms, and her tears are no longer tears of pain but tears of joy. Her mother is tearing up, too. "Do you have a name in mind, honey?"

Soojung nods. She and Jongin had discussed it in their last couple of letters. "I do," she says. "His name is Seojoon."

((next part here))

2015.

She wakes up to a dull ache overtaking her whole body, weighing down her arms and legs and effectively locking her down to the mattress. She can’t move any of her body parts without wincing, but after much effort manages to turn her migranous head to her right.

And she finds that she is not alone in her bed.

She blinks, vaguely thinking to herself that he’s probably responsible for the throbbing between her legs. He’s facing the other direction so all she sees is a mess of soft, dark-brown strands and a tanned, broad back.

She’s never had a one-night stand before and she has no idea what to do. In any case, her body hurts too much right now for her to do anything. So she turns her head back to the ceiling and wills herself to go back to sleep, for now just forgetting about the stranger in her bed.




He’s still there when she wakes up for the second time.

The aching had subsided significantly; she’d been able to get up without collapsing back to bed. She still can’t help but limp a little bit as she walked over to the dresser, but overall she felt a lot better than she did this morning. Nevertheless, she takes a couple of Advil with a glass of water to ward off any lasting effects of her hangover before heading back to her bed.

She still hasn’t quite figured out what to do with the boy. Standing on the other side of her bed, she is able to take a good look at his face. He’s quite handsome, she notes, with plush lips and a strong jaw and eyelashes that just about sweep his cheekbones. And it’s actually sort of cute how he furrows his eyebrows and pouts at random times in his sleep. Looking at him and his antics she feels strangely affectionate and somehow familiar, even though she’d never met him before last night.

She’s not sure what to do. He hasn’t moved at all. Should she just let him sleep? But it’s almost two o’clock and he shows no sign of rousing. On the other hand, she doesn’t want to just wake him up and throw him out, especially if he was hungover.

She ends up making him coffee.





“Um. Hi.”

He opens his eyes to a girl’s face, hovering above him uncertainly. A pretty girl’s face. The tips of her long, black hair graze his skin and he tries not to sneeze. His brain takes a while to start functioning so he gapes at her face for a while before registering that he’s currently in a random girl’s room, in a random girl’s bed, and that the light streaming in from the windows is too bright and too piercing for it to be early morning.

“Fuck, what time is it…” He sits up abruptly and fortunately, she has enough sense to back away. The covers fall back from his body as he does so and she tries not to stare at his toned torso. “God, I’m so sorry, I…” He rakes a hand through his bedhead hair and she vaguely hopes he doesn’t catch her staring at his biceps.

“It’s about two-ten right now,” she says in response to his question, before gesturing to the bedside table. “Um, I made you coffee.”

His sleepy eyes widen. “Wow, thanks. You’re an angel.” You look like one, too, he thinks as he takes another look at her by the window, dressed in a white shirt and tiny shorts with a long, light-gray cardigan, hair backlit by the early summer sun. Though, an angel probably wouldn’t go for those shorts. His eyes linger on her long legs, an expanse of smooth, creamy skin he remembers sinking his fingers into last night, remembers the way they had wrapped around his hips. He tears his eyes away to focus on the mug resting on the bedside table and, as he reaches for it, is relieved to find that the coffee isn’t black. He is even more surprised to find, as he takes a sip, that she’d gotten the right amount of milk and sugar. “Hey, you made this exactly the way I like it.”

“Really?” She sits on the windowsill. For some reason, when she was making the coffee, she just knew he wouldn’t take it black. And she let her hands decide after that, adding copious amounts of milk, a bit of sugar and a bit of condensed milk. Inside she feels a little amazed — he was a stranger after all — but all she says is, “That’s good.”

They sit in silence like that for a while, with him sipping on the coffee. Then she suddenly gets up, leaves the room and says, “I’ll leave you to get dressed.”

Oh. Right. He was still naked in a random girl’s bed. “Uhm,” he says, choking on his coffee. “I should probably do that.”





He comes out of the room fully dressed, coffee mug drained. “Where do I wash this?”

“Just leave it in the sink,” she says from the sofa, waving an arm.

He dumps it in, then approaches her. “Um,” he says, tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously. “Do you… uh. I can wash your sheets for you, if you want? They’re, um, kind of gross right now…” He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks everywhere but her face.

“Um…” Her cheeks turn red and she considers this. “I — really, I don’t wanna trouble you — ”

“Really, it’s no trouble at all. After letting me crash here for so long… And the coffee and all, y’know… and I was planning to do my laundry today anyway. I live in this building, too…” They both live off-campus, but their building was close enough to school so that a lot of kids from their college live there.

“I… It’s okay, I think I’m supposed to do laundry today too. Let me check.” She goes over to her hamper just to find that not only is it full, but she’s run out of detergent. “Shit, I’m clean out of Tide.”

“Well, I have plenty,” he says, and she can’t really think of what to say to counter that. On top of that, he gives her a little lopsided smile which she isn’t sure how to say no to. So she smiles back, follows him into her bedroom and lets him help her fold up her sheets.





“I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember your name,” he tells her as he helps carry her laundry hamper out to the hallway and into the elevator.

“That’s okay, I don’t think I ever told you what it was. My name is Krystal.”

He reaches out to shake her hand, and they both laugh a little awkwardly. “Kai.”

“Cool,” she nods. “Is it your real name?”

“Yeah. I was born in Japan, so. My parents liked the name and they never bothered giving me a Korean name. What about you?”

“Me, too. Born and raised in San Francisco, and my parents decided to just give me and my sister English names…”

They chat back and forth easily as they make their way to Kai’s apartment. Krystal unlocks the door for them as he has his arms full with the hamper, and they are greeted by the sight of two guys lounging around on the armchairs, one of them with a puppy -- a Welsh Corgi, it seems -- on his lap. Kai mentally facepalms. “Why are you two here?”

They both ignore him, fixing their eyes on Krystal, then on the bedsheets she’s carrying. Then they burst into identical shit-eating grins. “So that’s where you disappeared off to last night!”

“Fuck off.” He sets the hamper near the door and starts to peer into cupboards. “Where’s Sehunnie?”

“Downstairs, getting our takeout.” Both pairs of eyes were still fixated on Krystal, and she’s starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Then the taller one, who has wide eyes, chubby cheeks and ears that stick out endearingly, chirps brightly, “I’m Chanyeol! What’s your name?”

“Uh — ”

“Leave her alone, hyung,” Kai says as he continues struggling to locate the Tide.

“We’re not doing anything, kiddo,” the smaller one says. “Just trying to get to know the holder of your V-card!”

“HYUNG!” Krystal’s cheeks flame scarlet and Kai strides across the room to where his friends are sitting. The guy immediately holds a cushion in front of him as a shield. “Hey, hey, easy! Sorry,” he says easily, flashing them a wide, rectangle-shaped grin. “We’ll shut up.”

The puppy in his lap starts wagging his tail and Kai starts scratching him between the ears. "Hey, buddy." Watching them, Krystal is not at all surprised to see the way he picks up the pup and cradle him like a baby, and the way the puppy licks his face furiously. Not that she should be surprised, but... More than not being surprised, it was almost as if she was expecting this scene, even though he hadn't mentioned being a dog person. "Get your own dog, Kim," Rectangle-Mouth guy quips before gently easing his dog back to his lap. "Oh, wait, I forgot you can barely take care of a potted plant."

"Chanyeol-hyung takes better care of your dog than you do. Don't get all pissy just because Mongryeong likes me better than you," Kai retorts as he walks back to the doorway where Krystal is still standing. “Sorry about them,” he mutters. “I hope they’re not making you uncomfortable… I’ll find the Tide soon…”

“We bought chicken and beer,” Chanyeol says cheerfully, and Kai turns around slowly. “Are you sure you don’t wanna stay for that, Kai-yah?”

As if on cue, a gangly boy with a head of white-blonde hair unlocks the front door and enters with bags of fried chicken and a crate of beer. “Hey, man, where’d you go last night,” he mumbles as he toes off his sneakers, then looks up and finds himself face to face with Krystal. There is something oddly endearing about him; something she finds sweet and childlike despite the fact that he’s probably a head taller than her. “Oh. Oh. Hi.” He bows a little but Krystal catches the smirk forming on his lips. “I see.”

“Sehun-ah, where’s the Tide?”

“In the bathroom. Do you guys want chicken?”

“Um…” Kai’s eyes dart from the chicken to Krystal’s face, and back to the chicken, and for reasons she doesn’t understand Krystal blurts out, “Sure. Can’t keep him away from his chicken.”

There was a brief silence, then the three other boys burst out laughing. “I like her,” the one with the rectangular mouth pipes up. “Well, come in, then, kids. Don’t hang around the doorway like that. Sehun, bring all the food here.”

Sehun does as he’s told, and Krystal hesitantly follows the boys into the living room area. Instinctually, she sticks to Kai because she’s not really sure how to feel about the other boys. And of course, it isn’t as if she knows him that well, but already — for some unknown reason — she feels reasonably comfortable with him. Unfortunately, his friends notice this, and they all smirk at her when Kai lays out a floor cushion next to him for her to sit on.

Surprisingly, she ends up warming up to them quickly. They talked amongst themselves for a while and Krystal soaks up their comfortable rapport. Then when they turn their attention back to her, she is no longer self-conscious or hyperaware.

She tells them that she’s from California, majoring in photojournalism. Rectangle-mouth guy (Baekhyun, Krystal reminds herself) remarks that they haven’t seen her around, and she admits she doesn’t really go out much, and that her friend had dragged her to last night’s party. Chanyeol then asks her what she does in her free time, and she tells them that she reads, paints and plays video games. They end up talking about Dota and FIFA until Sehun reminds them that it’s almost four, and that their laundry room closes at five on weekends.

So Kai and Krystal pack up their laundry and bid their goodbyes to the rest of the boys, who tell Krystal she should come over and play video games with them as she mentioned that none of her girl friends really play. Sehun tells her to get Kai’s number and contact them through him and she tells him that she will.





Doing the laundry with Kai feels strangely habitual, familiar; just as way too many things about him felt familiar so far. They start off dealing with their clothes separately, but he has a lot less laundry to do than she does, so after dealing with his own laundry — and the sheets — Krystal lets him help her separate her lights and darks (thankfully, she’d already shoved her mesh underwear bag into one of the machines). None of them are particularly chatty, but the silence between them as they sort through the clothes is comfortable — and for reasons she doesn’t quite understand, she feels like this is something they’ve done together before, a recurring activity, something they’ve both gotten used to doing together. Which would explain why the silence feels comfortable.

Except, of course, it doesn’t explain anything. They’d just met last night. No, in Krystal’s head, they just met this morning as she doesn’t exactly remember what happened last night. But regardless of how weird she thinks this whole situation is, she kind of likes being around him, likes his unexpected comfortable aura.

After they’ve put everything in the wash, they sit on the machines, legs swinging. They hear the faint sound of music, probably from the upstairs room, and Krystal watches in amusement as Kai sways his torso to the beat, then blushes as he feels her eyes on her. “Do you dance?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m a dance major.” And somehow, even though nobody’s mentioned it earlier, it doesn’t come as a surprise to Krystal. Her brain just went, Oh, right. “Wow, that’s cool. I love watching people dance. I danced in, like, primary school.”

He laughs. “You should try it again sometime. Come to the dance studio. I’m there, like, 85% of the time.”

And Krystal knows that, regardless of whether she wants to dance or not, that she probably will swing by the studio more often now that she knows that this boy spends most of his time there. “Okay.”

Later, as they fold their clothes together, he suddenly says, “Hey, um, this is gonna sound really weird but… I like doing laundry with you?” Their eyes meet and he manages a bashful smile before averting his eyes. “I don’t know, just… It just feels nice. Relaxing. I hope this isn’t coming across as some kind of creepy pick-up line…” His voice trails off embarrassedly, endearingly, and somehow Krystal knows he means it. It’s not just that she feels the same way, but she knows that he was being sincere. “So… maybe you can let me know the next time you’re doing laundry? I mean. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

She hesitates for about two seconds before smiling and saying, “Yeah, okay. I’ll text.”





For the next two days or so, he sort of escapes her mind as she focuses on doing research for her new photo essay. It’s not until she walks by him on campus, and they exchange a short glance and smile as they walk in opposite directions, that he’s back in her head.

He’s the one who ends up texting her first a few days later, telling her that his friends are getting pizza and playing video games at his place and would she like to come? And since she’d just turned in the findings of her research to her instructor, she said sure.

She turns up at his apartment at one PM, and Sehun opens the door. “Hey! Come in.” She notes that the apartment is unexpectedly quiet, and as she looks around she asks, “Where is everybody?”

“Um… Kai and Chanyeol-hyung are getting the pizza. Baek-hyung had a morning class, he’s on his way… it’s just me and Kyungsoo-hyung here at the moment.”

“Kyungsoo?”

“Ah, yeah… he wasn’t here the other day, let me introduce you two.” Sehun pads off into the kitchen and Krystal follows hesitantly. “Hyung, Krystal’s here. She’s the one… ah… friend Kai was talking about…”

The first thing Krystal sees is the back view of a small boy with neat black hair, stirring something on a stove, a sight that her brain somehow recognizes even though she doesn’t exactly have a lot of small guy friends who cook. And then he turns his head, and somehow, ‘familiar’ isn’t an adequate enough word to describe what she feels when her eyes meet his large, round doe eyes.

“Hi.” He smiles, wipes his right hand on his shirt and reaches forward to shake her hand. “Kyungsoo.”

“I, um, uh. I’m Krystal.” She tries to compose herself and smiles. “I… it’s nice to meet you.”

Kyungsoo goes back to his cooking. “I know they’re getting pizza, but they all eat like pigs, and Sehun and I were getting hungry…”

“It smells really good,” Krystal says as she peers over his shoulder. It looks like kimchi jjigae, and it smells like home. Which is a little weird, seeing as it doesn’t necessarily smell like her home — her mom doesn’t cook a lot, and she and her sister gradually became more accustomed to eating American food. She was about to open her mouth to say something else when the door opens and three boys walk in.

Kai peers into the kitchen and Krystal notices how his eyes light up when he spots Kyungsoo. “Hey, hyung, you’re here!” He sprints forward and wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s shoulders. “And making a mess out of my kitchen already…”

Kyungsoo scoffs and elbows him, but Krystal can see affection in his gaze. “You’re gonna be the one eating this in the end, brat.”

Krystal watches them banter playfully with a funny twinge in her chest. It was almost as if she was… jealous? Possessive, even? Which was strange. So it was obvious that they were really close, friend-wise or otherwise, but even if it was otherwise, why did she have to have a problem with it? She was just getting to know Kai and she had literally met Kyungsoo minutes ago. She didn’t really play any major roles in their lives.

Or maybe it was that that bothered her.

But why? She was never one of those people who wanted to be a part of everything and everyone’s personal lives. She wasn’t one of those people who wanted to be important to everyone.

She catches Kyungsoo reaching up to mess up Kai’s hair and then, very subtly, tilt his head in her direction. Krystal looks away and suddenly Kai is next to her. “Hi! I, um, I’m glad you could make it!” He touches her elbow lightly before retracting his hand. “Do you, um, wanna drink something?”

She hesitates. “Water would be great, thank you.” She watches as he gets a mug and pours bottled water into it, and strangely feels touched because it’s not tap water. She thanks him again as he hands the mug over to her, and after she takes a sip she inspects the mug. “Where did you get this from?” It looks like a traditional piece of Korean pottery, and for some reason her fingers liked the way they felt.

“Oh, I took a pottery elective sometime in freshman year. That was the only good thing that came out of it, really… yes, I know, one whole semester and that was the only thing. But it’s a pretty decent mug.”

Krystal laughed. “Yeah,” she said. “I like it.”

“Hey, kids, the game’s ready!” Chanyeol hollers from the living room, so Krystal leaves her mug on the counter and follows Kai out of the kitchen.





Gradually, Krystal becomes a constant part of these video-game sessions. She’s not really sure how and why she grew to fit in to their little group, since she wasn’t exactly chatty whenever she came over, but maybe boys were just a lot more laid-back about these kinds of things and she’s just over-thinking everything, as usual.

In any case, she feels comfortable among them, feels like she fits in to their group dynamic. After his initial quietness and stoicism in front of her, Sehun’s true colors as their bratty baby maknae comes out. Krystal had learned to break up fights between him and Kai when Kyungsoo isn’t around to do so, stop Baekhyun from feeding him too much beer, and bring him chocolate milk once in a while. Baekhyun and Chanyeol are both almost unbearably loud and rowdy, but Krystal had learned to deal with Baekhyun’s incessant teasing and Chanyeol’s over-excitement. She’d become a master at imitating Baekhyun now, to get back at him for always copying everybody else’s voices. Compared to those three Kai is somewhat more serene, and if what the other boys say is true it seems that he’s always on his best behavior around her, and she does find that endearing. But she’s also glad whenever he lets go of that and lets himself be rowdy with the others, because then she feels less of an outsider and more like someone he’s used to being around.

She doesn’t really know how things are between her and Kai. If she was being really honest, she really is attracted to him, and she lets herself think that the feeling is somewhat mutual, if the way his friends tease him and the looks she catches him give her count as anything. They don’t really do much together aside from laundry, but she lets herself savor the little moments, such as when their arms brush against each other when they fold clothes or the times their knees touch when they sit on the machines. Somehow, she finds it weird to think that they had actually slept together once, since now they could barely touch each other accidentally without blushing.

Her favorite laundry room moment was when the unit above the laundry room (who often plays music randomly when they do laundry) suddenly played a song to a pas de deux routine that he’d been learning. He’d got excited — as he often did when it came to dance — got up and started to dance, but then realized he can’t do it alone. “Krystal, do this with me.”

“But I don’t even know the dance,” she laughs when he pulls her to her feet.

“Just follow along, it’s not that hard, I promise…”

And Krystal is surprised to find out that it really was not that hard to move around him, matching his steps, letting her upper body be swayed around by his arms. She hasn’t danced in a while but her body seems to find it so easy to move in sync with his, to fill up the space surrounding him. In retrospect, maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised. She’s starting to sense a pattern; each and every time they meet he just becomes more familiar.
It’s less like getting to know someone new and more like reconnecting with an old friend.

The one who confuses her the most is Kyungsoo. For some reason, she feels like she’s invading his territory sometimes; like she’s trying to take over his children, trying to take their attention away from him. And that doesn’t make much sense because Kyungsoo never does anything that implies this. All he does, really, is cook and hit Chanyeol and headlock Baekhyun and scold Sehun and baby Kai. And he tries to make conversation with Krystal to be polite, but she can sense that he’s not really a small-talk type of person and tries not to drag on their conversations too much.

There have, however, been moments where she feels they sort of bonded without words. Multiple times, like whenever Sehun starts whining for bubble tea or gets high on sugar, or whenever Chanyeol laughs with his limbs and knocks something over, Krystal would find herself instinctually glancing over in Kyungsoo’s direction and they would share a look and a smile, and she’s not sure what it means exactly but it certainly feels like some sort of bonding moment to her. Then there would be the times when she’d help him cook, because she somehow felt obliged to help, and she feels a sort of silent solidarity chopping vegetables and washing rice with him. Krystal’s never had a friend quite like him before so she’s not quite sure what to feel about their relationship right now, but really all she wants from Kyungsoo is acceptance and she thinks she probably has at least that.





Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo are graduating soon, so they throw a party at Chanyeol’s place. He lives on one of the upper floors in their building, in a larger unit than even Sehun and Kai’s two-bedroom, so it seems like a reasonable venue considering the amount of friends they all have combined. Krystal is invited, of course — although Baekhyun’s exact words had been if you don’t come, we will go downstairs and physically force you out, so maybe ‘invited’ is too euphemistic a word.

Even though they weren’t exactly specific with the dress code, Krystal had a hard time figuring out her outfit. Considering she rarely goes to any kind of party, her wardrobe mostly consisted of soft, cozy clothes — shorts, sweaters, jeans, kimono tops. She finally digs out a pair of leather leggings that her sister had bought for her on a whim, and a crop top that had belonged to her friend who decided she was too short for it and had given it to Krystal.

Standing in front of the mirror, she doesn’t really feel like herself. There was the outfit itself — the crop top came down to around her ribs, but it was pretty tight and it had triangular cutouts on the sides which she thinks looks pretty cool, but she just isn’t used to wearing something like this… The leather leggings clung to her skin, but the material was pretty thick so she told herself it was decent. Then there was her makeup. She doesn’t usually wear any, but she thinks she looks sort of childish bare-faced, so she put on some smokey eye makeup. At least she opted to wear black snakeskin slip-ons instead of heels — not that she had any — so that felt somewhat like her, at least.

The place was packed by the time she makes an entrance. She scans the crowd for a familiar face and spots Chanyeol on the recliner with a girl — was that Im Jinah? She’s not sure — on his lap. “Hey, you made it!” He raises the red solo cup in his hand as a greeting. “Drinks and snacks are at the back. Kyungsoo made food. You look great, by the way,” he adds after a quick once-over.

“Thanks,” she says with a grin, before heading towards the back. Suddenly someone grabs her wrist and she jumps. “Sehun, what the hell!”

“Hi,” he greets with a wide smile. He smells drunk.

Krystal rolls her eyes. “Okay, who let you drink? It was Baek oppa, wasn’t it?”

“Hey, pretty!” Baekhyun appears out of nowhere and slings an arm around her shoulders. “You look different. Are you trying to impress someone?”

“Yeah, you,” she quips, shaking his arm off.

He smirks and exchanges a look with Sehun. “Come on, he’s been asking about you ever since he got here.”

“Who are you — ” She looks around the room as Baekhyun and Sehun drag her off, and catches a glimpse of Kyungsoo, who smiles and waves at her. She smiles back; unable to wave as she has a guy hanging off each arm, and her curious gaze travels to the guy standing next to him. He's relatively small, around Kyungsoo's size, and he has a nice smile. One that looks kind, gentle, reassuring. When he directs that smile at Soojung, she feels strangely comforted, even though she doesn't know the guy. This feeling doesn't even surprise her anymore at this point.

They weren't holding hands, but they were standing close enough to each other that you can't immediately pass off their relationship as platonic. Soojung wonders about this when her head suddenly collides into something solid.

“Ow — ” She pulls back, belatedly realizing Baekhyun and Sehun had disappeared, and that she was suddenly in front of Kai, who was rubbing his jaw. “Sorry, I…”

“Yeah, they just basically shoved you in my face while you weren’t looking.” He smiles sheepishly and awkwardly rubs the back of his head. “You look really pretty, by the way.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” She tries not to blush but fails. It feels so different, hearing him say that, from hearing Baekhyun or Chanyeol say that. She is a little assured to see there is a pink tint coloring his cheeks, too, but then again he has a red cup in one hand. She looks away in a futile attempt to hide her bashfulness when her eyes fall on Kyungsoo and Mystery Guy again. "Hey, by the way... who's that with Kyungsoo-oppa?"

Kai follows her gaze. "You haven't met him yet?" Krystal shakes her head, and he smiles a little. "Sometimes I feel like you've been a part of us from the beginning. That's Suho-hyung, the eldest in our group. He graduated last year."

"Oh." A part of them from the beginning. She likes the sound of that. "Are he and Kyungsoo-oppa... dating?"

"They were." He chews at the inside of his cheek. "But then, after graduating, Suho-hyung spent the whole year doing charity work in some remote place -- he majored in social studies -- so communication was... difficult. I'd imagine they took some kind of a break then, but Kyungsoo-hyung didn't really want to talk about it so we don't really know." He shrugs. "He returned in one piece sometime last week so they're probably reconciling."

"Oh. Well..." Soojung isn't really sure what to say. "He seems nice."

"He's the nicest. You'll be properly introduced to him soon. Now, do you want to drink something? Eat something? Kyungsoo-hyung made food…”

“I heard. Can’t pass that up,” she says as he leads her to the food table. “I’m not sure I’m up for getting shitfaced tonight, though.”

“Well, Kyungsoo-hyung made strawberry daiquiri and that just has rum.” They reach the table and he hands her a cup. “It’s really good. And do you want some takoyaki?”

“Sure…” Krystal scrunches up her nose. “I’m sure everything tastes great but how does takoyaki go with liquor, exactly?”

He shrugs in response. “Kyungsoo-hyung just bought a takoyaki pan, that’s all I know.”

Seven pieces of takoyaki and three cups of daiquiri later, Krystal finds herself loosened up enough to shamelessly snuggle with Kai on the couch, in full view of everyone. She’s perfectly aware that their legs are tangled together and that she’s pressing her cheek against his chest, but the alcohol helps her not be embarrassed about it, specially not when she feels so comfortable. His arms are around her, one hand stroking her hair, and she’s starting to feel sleepy when suddenly he twists his body and outstretches an arm, and she falls off his chest. “Chanyeol hyung~ Hyungnim~”

Krystal sits up and stares blearily at Chanyeol, waving cheerily at them from a distance. He seems to be holding a bottle in one hand and a shotglass in the other, and Krystal connects the dots. “Hyung,” Kai whines again until Chanyeol walks toward them. “Just a bit, kiddo.” He pours a shot, hands it to Kai and pats his cheek lightly before leaving.

“What’s that?” Krystal asks, grabbing at his wrist.

“It’s Jäger. And no, you’re not having any, you said you didn’t want to get shitfaced,” Kai laughs and swats her away as she reaches for the shot.

“But I’ve never had any.”

“All the more reason for me to not let you have any.”

Krystal pouts. “But I’m curious.” She tilts her head up to face him, wide-eyed.

He downs half the shot and gives her the rest, and laughs as she sips tentatively and makes a face. “It tastes like liquid fire.”

“I knew you wouldn’t like it.” He drinks whatever’s left and puts the shotglass on the floor.

“We just had an indirect kiss,” Krystal blurts out, then giggles.

He raises his eyebrows, then smiles, amused. “Yes, we did.”

She then mumbles something into his shirt and he’s not sure he heard right. “Did you say something?”

She looks up, wide-eyed. “What?”

“Did you just say you wanted a direct kiss?”

“Um.” She hides her face in his shirt. “No?”

“You’re so cute,” he laughs, pulling her closer. “I’d direct-kiss you anytime you want.”

“Mmm…” She hesitates, because she’s still sober enough to have some shame, but she really does want a direct kiss. And he said anytime. “How about now?”

His eyes widen, clearly not expecting that. “Uh — ”

Before she loses her nerves, she leans forward and kisses him first. His surprise dissolves quickly and he kisses back almost immediately, easing their mouths open. His hands find their way around her thighs and she wraps her legs snug around his hips. There is a faint voice in the back of her mind telling her that their current display of affection is way indecent, way beyond the way Baekhyun had his head on Kim Taeyeon’s lap or even the way Im Jinah was nestled in between Chanyeol’s legs. She doesn’t know if anything is going on in the bedrooms but she and Kai were out in the open, and he probably shouldn’t be dipping his fingers in between her legs and she probably shouldn’t be pressing open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Furthermore, his breaths are jagged and heavy, and there is growing pressure pushing up against her own crotch. She isn’t sure just how good his self-control is, isn’t completely sure whether or not it’s wise for her to be encouraging him like this when they’re still out in public, and doesn’t remember what happened last time and how they managed to get themselves to a private space.

Something hits the side of her head then and she jerks back, startled. Sehun had thrown a plushie in their direction. It looks like Pororo. “Fucking get a room, you two!” he yells and pulls a face.

Kai looks at her through half-lidded eyes, still breathing heavily. She was as well, she realizes. He smirks and says, “My place, this time?”





Krystal genuinely doesn’t remember what it was like when she lost her virginity to Kai.

Having said that, this doesn’t feel like her first time at all.

But in her mind’s eye, it is the first time. Just… her body doesn’t seem to think so. Her body doesn’t even seem to think this is only the second time. Her body seems to know what to do just like the way she knows how to ride a bike, or do a backflip on the balancing beam from the gymnastics she did in high school. Like the way she knew how to dance with him in the laundry room with no practice at all.

It’s easy to push all the questions to the back of her mind when she’s in this blissful haze, entangled in his limbs. He presses one short, sweet kiss to her sweaty temple just before they both knock out, and she falls asleep with a smile on her face.





She wakes up to warmth, a fuzzy sort of coziness enveloping her. Soft hair tickling the back of her neck, warm breath ghosting her shoulders, a warm weight wrapped around her waist. She gives in to the cocoon of comfort and leans back into whatever it is embracing her, still mostly asleep, but her eyes flicker open when she hears a quiet snore.

And she finds out that not only was she not in her own bed, but she was not alone in bed.

She wakes up completely then, turning around to look at him. This was different than last time. She was just a little buzzed last night so she remembers what happened, remembers the strawberry daiquiri and the few drops of Jäger, remembers the cuddling and making out on Chanyeol’s couch. She remembers Sehun chucking a Pororo plushie at them and yelling at them to get a room, and she remembers leaving that apartment and entering this one.

Krystal lets herself sink back against the headboard, absent-mindedly running her fingers through his hair. She couldn’t quite believe that this happened to her yet again. She never thought she’d ever sleep with anyone before marriage, and yet she’d already done it twice. She’s never had a boyfriend, never properly kissed anyone before him, and yet.

What really weirded her out was how easily it all happened with him. When completely sober, she tried holding back because no matter how much her heart tells her that he’s a familiar person, someone close to her heart, the rational part of her brain reminds her that they have never met before the first party. But her brain has no rational explanation for the way her body remembers his, the effortless way their bodies moved around each other’s, how she is so receptive to his touch and, in return, seems to know how to touch him back. There is really no other explanation aside from muscle memory.

And all this scares her. Her life was, simply speaking, pretty uneventful and this kind of strange coincidence with a person she’d met barely months ago freaked her out. The weird thing is that she likes it, likes this, likes him, and she wonders why she can’t just stop overthinking and let herself enjoy the moment. But a significant part of herself is afraid and freaked out, and that’s why she bolts out of the nest of body warmth and fluffy sheets and gets on her knees, searching for her clothes among the mess on the floor.

She manages to locate and put on her underwear before a deep, sleep-coated voice mumbles from the bed, “Krys?”

Crap. Krystal finds her crop top and leggings, but she couldn’t wriggle into them in a short time and she’s not about to attempt it when he’s awake, so she grabs a T-shirt and throws that on instead before trying to sneak out the door.

“Krystal? Where are you going?”

She pauses at the door, trying to ignore the way his morning voice stirs up an army of butterflies in her stomach. “Home,” she replies. “My place.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

Hesitantly, she turns around, and her resolve to walk out of his life almost crumbles. He’s sitting up in bed, wide-eyed and forlorn, looking very much like a left-behind child.

“I.” She tries to clear her throat. “Look, I’m sorry, I can’t… I just don’t think I can do this anymore, I…” Her voice cracks and to her horror, she finds tears welling up in her eyes for some unknown reason.

“What do you mean? I… Krys, please don’t cry, look, can we talk about this… just let me put on some pants… Krystal, wait!”

Krystal exits his bedroom before she could have second thoughts, but he catches up to her before she reaches the front door. She’s crying by then, and even though he looks confused, he pulls her into his arms and she lets herself hug him back as she cries, tracing lines on his back with her fingertips, finding comfort in their embrace even though she’s trying to escape it at the same time, trying to escape the confusion.

“Krystal, what’s wrong?” he says gently, stroking her hair. “Is this… I mean, are we going too fast? I thought you were sober enough, last night, I thought it was consensual… but I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… pressure you into anything… I — ”

“It’s not that,” she interrupts quickly, realizing that he thought he did something wrong. “I…” She peels her face away from his chest, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks. “I mean… yes, we are going really fast, and we’re not even dating… and you have to know that I’m not usually like this, I’ve never… never had a boyfriend, never really kissed anyone, and suddenly with you I’m… and it’s not your fault, nothing’s your fault, but I just find it really, really weird how comfortable I am with you.”

He’s silent, face thoughtful. Then he says, slowly, “I’ve never had a girlfriend, either. And I don’t know if you remember, but as Baekhyun-hyung so kindly revealed on our first morning-after, I’ve never slept with anyone before either… and yet, I agree. It’s all so easy with you.” He pauses before continuing, “I know this might sound weird, but I’d go as far as to say that it feels like I’ve known you before, and now I’m just remembering who you are. And I… I don’t understand it, but I like the way I feel around you, and I really like you. So I hope you’ll stay.” Another pause. “And besides… you’re wearing my favorite T-shirt, so you’re not getting away from me that easily.”

Krystal digests this information, a little surprised and reassured to find that he apparently felt exactly the way she did. “I feel the same way, and it freaked me out,” she admitted. “But it makes me feel better that you feel the same way, at least now I know I’m not crazy and even if I am, we’re crazy together.”

He pulls her close again. “Let’s stick together from now on.”

“Are you asking me out?” she asks, tilting her head back to look up at him.

“I guess I am,” he answers, smiling shyly before leaning in to kiss her. The kiss is soft and sweet, nothing more than their lips languidly moving around each other, and for some reason she associates the feeling of the kiss with many other things; reading a book on a rainy afternoon, the clean, fresh smell of laundry, arranging fresh-cut flowers in a vase, eating home-cooked food. She gets up on tiptoes to run her fingers through his hair when suddenly —

“Alright, we all know you two had fun last night and I deliberately came home at seven in the morning to avoid all that, so will you please stop making out in front of my bedroom door?”

Kai and Krystal break apart and turn towards him. “Shut up, brat,” Kai snipes as Krystal sticks out her tongue at him. Sehun is grinning; no real bite in his voice. He then says, “I’m really happy things worked out. Just don’t have sex when I’m in here, alright? Go to her place. She has no roommates.”

The door closes and they turn back to each other. Kai traces her cheek with his thumb. “Let’s go out for lunch,” he says. “It’s on me.”

((next part here))