end;

 

 

The house which I used to call my home did not change a bit, except for the new coat of paint to replace the fading old one. All of a sudden, I am overwhelmed with a tinge of nostalgic feeling. I smile remembering the old memories, which sometimes I question its authenticity because some ―no, most of them are too good to be true.

 

I feel my shirt being tugged. Glancing down to my right, I find a little girl no older than ten staring at me with such curious eyes. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

 

“Ahjussi,” she begins. “Who are you? Why are you standing in front of my friend’s house? Are you his friend? Or are you his parents’ friend?”

 

I chuckle at her seemingly endless questions and squat down so that I reach her eye level. “Is this your friend’s house?”

 

She nods, grinning. “It’s my best friend’s house!” she announces proudly.

 

“I see,” I smile. “This used to be my house. I lived here before,”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really,”

 

“Then, ahjussi you must be very old!” she giggles.

 

I laugh in return. I am just about to open my mouth when the creak of the gate cut me off and a boy around the little girl’s age stepped outside from what used to be my house. “Seol ah!” he yells out, frowning at me.

 

The girl shifts her focus away from me, and upon seeing the sight of the boy, I could her eyes twinkling with delight. She immediately forgets about me and runs towards her friend with a wide grin plastered on her tiny face. “Sungjae yah!”

 

“Who were you talking to?” the boy ―Sungjae asks.

 

She shrugs. “I don’t know him, but he said he used to live here in your house.”

 

I continue to watch their antics as she leans in and whispers something inaudible to me to his ears. They both burst into a fit of giggles afterwards while stealing glances at me, before they run off somewhere.

 

I get up to my feet and am about to head off somewhere, too, when I hear a loud “thud” sound behind me. Turning around, I could see potatoes rolling out on the ground from a plastic bag. I bend down to help pick them, but a gentle voice that I hadn’t heard in seven years stops me.

 

“Is that really you?”

 

I look up to meet his gaze, and a spell of silence falls between us as neither of us knows how to react. At last, he is the one who breaks it.

 

“Hyung, you’re back!” Myungsoo’s face lights up as he comes forward towards me and gives me a hug. “You’re back! Hyung, you’re really back!” he repeats, as if by doing so helps him to believe it better.

 

“Yes, I’m back,” I manage to say when we break apart. “How have you been?”

 

“I’ve been good.” He nods, smiling. “What about you, hyung? We never heard from you since you moved. I didn’t even get to see you off,”

 

I scratch the back of my neck, embarrassed of my childish act back then. “I know, I’m sorry about that.”

 

“It’s me who is sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was my fault,”

 

Shaking my head, I draw out a smile at him. “It doesn’t really matter now, does it?” I reassure him.

 

He returns my smile. “Have you eaten, hyung?” asks him. I shake my head no. “Let’s go to my mom's. She’s been wanting to see you,”

 

After picking up the potatoes on the ground, I follow him to his mother’s diner. To be completely honest, I still am afraid to see her after the last time we met. Although I do understand that she did not mean any harm, I still do not feel comfortable.

 

Stepping into the diner, I swallow down my uneasiness and force out a smile while Myungsoo heads to the kitchen to call for her. I take a seat near the window where there are lesser people. It is still too early for lunch, so the diner is not that packed except for an elderly couple who are enjoying their meals in silence.

 

I glance around, studying my surrounding. Thinking back, I did not frequent Myungsoo’s mother’s diner back when we were still kids, unlike Chorong who would have her meals here sometimes when her father wasn’t around. I did not realize it back then, but it was probably that I did not feel the need to dine outside because my mother would always prepare a warm meal for me at home. I smile at the memories which still feel fresh in my mind despite years have gone by.

 

“Woohyun ah, is it really you?” a voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I glance at its direction and finds Myungsoo’s mother making her way towards me with her apron still on. I notice her greying hair which she held up in a tight bun and realize how much time has flown. With a wide smile on her face, she pulls me into her warm embrace. “It’s really you,” she repeats.

 

“How have you been, auntie?” I ask.

 

She only nods as a reply. She then pulls away, sits me down and takes a seat for herself next to me before bombarding me with questions. “What about you? Have you been well?” asks her. “You left without a word. I was so worried, you know, after what I said,”

 

“It’s okay, auntie. It wasn’t your fault,”

 

“No, if I hadn’t said that―”

 

“Umma,” Myungsoo interrupts her, smiling. “What’s past is in the past. And hyung is hungry now so why don’t you make him a nice bowl of udon?”

 

With that, she takes her leave after giving me another hug and a pat on my head.

 

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes as he fills her seat.

 

“Nah, it’s fine,” I tell him.

 

Shifting my attention to outside the window, the two of us sit in silence until Myungsoo’s mother returns a few minutes later with two bowls of udon. While eating, we fill one another in with what we’ve missed out all these years; catching up with each other’s life. However, we both are careful not to speak of one subject.

 

We both are, until once we are done eating and I finally decide to head out.

 

“Hyung,” he calls. “I think you know where to find her.”

 

I smile at his remark and bid my adieu.

 

 

 

Just like my house, the neighbourhood never really changed. Sure, some houses have new coats of paints, and there are new faces. But that was inevitable, given how much time I’ve been gone. Gazing at the row of cherry blossom trees by the roadside, I inhale the fresh spring air and smell the nostalgic scent from my early youth. I hold out my right hand and catch three petals of cherry blossom in my palm.

 

Without meaning to, my feet have brought me to the hill where I used to go to every so often in my childhood with my two best friends. There is a tiny trail now that leads to the top of the hill. I notice how much the trees have grown over the years, but the place is just as deserted as usual.

 

My eyes fall on a figure sitting on the grass withher long silky hair dancing along with the gentle breeze. A book is resting on her lap, but her gaze is looking forward at the scenery. I stop short on my track, but my foot lands on a small branch which snaps with a loud ‘crack’. She flinches at the sudden noise and turns around to search for its source.

 

Our eyes meet, and it feels like the time has frozen between us. The cherry blossom petals fly out of my palm.

 

“Woohyun?” I heard her soft voice, hesitant. Not knowing how to respond, I force out a smile. Even from a distance, I could her b eyes. Her book falls out of her lap as she gets up and runs in my direction. She wraps her arms firmly around me, as if she fears that if she didn’t hold tight, I would get away from her grasp. “Woohyun ah,” she calls again, her voice breaking. Her tears soak my shoulder.

 

We break apart, but her tears continue to fall. She hits me chest once, then again, and again and again. “Bad guy,” she mutters. “You bad guy,”

 

“Chorong ah, it hurts, you know,” I tell her, faking a pained expression. To my surprise, she smiles and begins to laugh.

 

After she stops crying, we sit on the grass and talk. Mostly, like always, she does the talking part while I just listen and smile. It feels surreal how real it is ―to be able to spend time with her like this, the way we used to. Listening to her endless chatters makes me realize how quiet my life has been without her. It makes me feel like we have returned to when we were both kids.

 

We talk about everything and nothing at once for hours, bantering and laughing at the little things. At last, she falls asleep on my shoulder. The sun is already setting by then. I thought of going home, and calculate in my head how to carry her down.

 

But I feel tears soaking my shirt again. I glance sideways and see her burying her face there behind her hair. I stay silent and look away, not wanting to disturb her.

 

“Woohyun ah,” she calls.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I’m sorry,”

 

“For what?”

 

“I said I hated you,” she mumbles. “I regretted it every day,”

 

“That’s okay,”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah,”

 

“Thank you,”

 

Silence.

 

“Woohyun ah,”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Remember the shoes I gave you for your birthday?”

 

“Yes,”

 

“Can I have them back?”

 

“Why?”

 

“So that you won’t run away again,”

 

I smile. “Okay. I’ll look for them later,”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah,”

 

“Thanks,”

 

Silence.

 

“Woohyun ah,”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Woohyun ah. Nam Woohyun, you tree,” she cries. “Silly, silly tree,”

 

I say nothing.

 

“You coward,”

 

Nothing.

 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about your feelings?”

 

Still nothing.

 

“Did you know how long I waited?”

 

I glance at her the same time she lifts her head up. Our gaze meets, and another spell of silence falls.

 

“I like you too,”

 

“Chorong ah,” I croak out. Another tear stream down her cheek, and I quickly wipe it away. “It’s not fair for me that you said it first,” I say, hitting her lightly on her shoulder. My lips curl into a smile and her do the same. “I love you,” I whisper. Then I lean in to meet her lips.

 

---

 

This marks the end of The Other Person.
Thank you to my loyal readers who stay by my side,
showering me with lovely comments until the end.
You guys are my strength and inspirations :)