I waste no time to reach where Mom is once I arrive home. “Did you tell Grandpa?”

                Mom is in the kitchen, and she looks at me once before she turns off the stove. “No. Why?”

                I impatiently pull out a chair and settle down. Mom also takes out a seat in front of me as I remove my scarf. She observes me for a bit, and tilts her head a bit.

                “Did you meet your grandparents?”

                “I was kind of forcefully dragged there. So did you tell him about the details?”

                “I didn’t tell him a thing. You know Mrs. Shin, your grandparents’ neighbor who works as a staff in the university? She told him the incident, and mentioned that young man’s name. Seems like that name still rings a bell to your grandfather. Then he called me.”

                I sigh. So that’s how. “Do you know what he said to me? ‘Fate works in fascinating ways, doesn’t it?’.” I screech. “He’s going to start all over again! I thought it’s all finished!”

                “It has, Dana.” Mom assures me. “It’s finished. Years ago. And do you think I’d stay still after what happened to you that time? I almost lost my daughter.”

                I blink repeatedly, clutching my scarf.

                Mom stands up, and caresses my shoulder. “Maybe it’s not what you interpret it to be. You know he really treasured his friend, he probably just got sentimental. Now, let’s eat. You must have not had dinner.”

                “I’ll change first.” I get up, and head to my room. My head still hurts, and I just want to curl up in my bed under the blanket.

*

                In the morning, I’m waiting in the living room as Mom prepares things to change my bandage. She pops out from another room with a puzzled face. “Dana, I think we ran out of the tape. I thought your father had bought an extra…”

                “Oh… Then I’ll visit the clinic near school. I’ll buy the tape too.”

                On the way to school, I’m thinking of just regularly coming to the clinic for bandage change. I start to feel bad for Mom every time she looks at my wound. The place is a small general clinic and drugstore located only a few buildings from the school’s main gate, and I pass by it every day from or to the bus stop.

                “This is the tape, and the receipt. Thank you. Get well soon.” the kind-looking female  cashier gives me a small plastic bag. I smile at her, and head to the exit. The bandage that the doctor put feels tighter than how Mom does it. I pull my injured arm up and down lightly as the automatic door opens, and I’m stopped on my track before I can take a step outside.

                Kim Jongin is standing at the end of the stairs that separate the clinic and the sidewalk, and our eyes meet. I avoid his gaze and walk down the stairs, making a distance. He catches up to me in no time—must be because of his damn long legs—and walks beside me.

                “What were you doing there?”

                “What are you doing here?” I snap back.

                “I saw you going in. Did something happen to your arm?”

                “No. I was changing the bandage.”

                “Oh.”

                After that short reply, he’s still walking beside me and I feel uncomfortable. “I said nothing happened. You can go.”

                “I’m also walking to school. I saw someone I know and asked about her condition, can’t I at least do it?

                I stop walking, and Jongin follows. We face each other, and I hate to stretch my neck so I can see his sight. “You know you don’t have to.”

                Jongin’s face stiffens. “Why are you always so resentful to me?”

                I grab the plastic bag on my hand tightly, and look at him without lifting my head. Jongin closes his eyes for a few seconds, and turns his head away.

                “I’m waiting for a time when I can talk, level-headed, with you. We’re now adults, it’s different from that time. I’m really waiting for that chance.”

                With that, he marches away to the campus’ direction. What was that? Does he mean I’m being immature? I click my tongue, and look at his back. Once he’s not seen anymore, I resume walking, but something in my head makes my feet move slower.

                Vapor comes out from my mouth as I let out another deep breath, and I fix my scarf. Things feel far from being done.

*

                After the encounter in front of the clinic, I haven’t thought much about Jongin but when I see him for the night class the following week, I feel exasperated for no reason again.

                The class went normally, and our pair didn’t find any difficulty in presenting our main topic and abstract we made together that time in the library. We clearly lack chemistry and enthusiasm in interacting with each other though, but fortunately Professor Han overlooked it.

                After the class, Mr. Gil waited right in front of the building, and I hid my disapproving face. Grandpa really sent him. As the car passes by the soccer field from that time, I notice Jongin walking on the sidewalk, and I catch myself watching over him until I can’t see him anymore.

*

                The remaining night classes for the week went plainly, and my classmates are buzzing about going to a ski resort on the weekend. I honestly want to go, but my arm will make it hard for me to do sports in the snow.

                “It’s okay though! You can still enjoy the view. It’s only one hour away from here, why not?” Sehee encourages me. “We need to go there before the Christmas rush! We’ll get student discounts too.”

                “Should I? I’ll need help with this, though.” I touch my covered bandage.

                “Tsk, Hong Sehee is here.”

                With that deal, I end up going, and giddily gather in the campus on Saturday morning. I notice that many people are there, and there’s no way they’re all only from Political Science major. “Hey, are they going to the ski resort too?”

                “I think so. I heard the social studies majors are all coming—Anthropology, Sociology, International Studies…”

                My heart sank as soon as I heard the last major Sehee mentioned. I must be too sensitive… It doesn’t mean ‘he’ will be there.

                We go there by car, and the view changes from city colors to completely white. Snow piled up just as far as eyes can see, and once we arrived at the resort, I have my mouth slightly open as if I saw snow for the first time in my life. Snow this year is definitely extraordinary.

                “Look at that beautiful slope! Last year I went here and it wasn’t this majestic! Too bad you can’t go up, Dana—“ Sehee jumps around as soon as we get out of the car. “—hey, isn’t that Kim Jongin?”

                I quietly grit my teeth, and take a glimpse at where Sehee looks at. Jongin is apparently there with other students, and he’s looking around the white empire with eyes wide open. I turn around before he can see me, and unload my bag from the car.

                We have some time to unpack in our hotel rooms, and after that the others immediately go to enjoy the ski slope. I’m looking through the window in the hotel’s lobby, thinking of what to do. I’m observing a snowy forest behind the hotel, and that view looks like it comes straight from a movie.

                Someone stops right beside the chair I’m sitting on, and I don’t have a good feeling about this. “You’re not out there playing?”

                Without looking at the person, I keep staring at the view outside and answer. “I can’t because of my wound. You?”

                He took a moment of silence after I said that. “Played soccer yesterday. My legs are sore.”

                “Then why are you here?” I mutter under my breath. 

                “I heard it. The same goes for you then.” Jongin sits in front of me, and crosses his legs. “Can I talk to you about something?”

                I exhale. Out of all times, out of all places… If Grandpa knows about our encounter here, he must be very delighted, thinking that it’s fate. I look around the lobby, and there are still a few students from our flock. “Fine. But let’s move to a different place.”

 *

                Jongin follows from some distance behind me as we relocate to the forest I saw earlier, and I look up to see the unseen tops of the cypress trees, sprinkled with white snow. I feel so elated, like my chest is about to burst—until I remember why I’m here, and who I’m with. I stop walking, and turn around. Jongin stops on his track, and we’re facing each other, separated by a distance. Not too far, not too close.

                “Say what you want to say.” I told him.

                Jongin’s sight wanders for some time, then he looks at me again.

                “I want to ask you something. Do you hate me, or do you hate what our grandfathers did?”

                His opening speech has me sealing my lips tightly, and I find myself hiding half of my face behind my scarf.

                "I called you mean in the hospital that time. Do you know why I said that even though we barely interacted? What you did to call off the plan six years ago was mean. That's why I see you as a mean person. But why do I seem like the bad guy in your eyes?

                "I don't think you have the right to hate me when I literally didn't do anything. I opposed the plan, too. And I hoped it could be scrapped properly, with the help of our parents or something. But you single-handedly did that thing, and sent everyone into a frenzy.

                "Have you put yourself in my shoes? We've been in the hospital twice. Six years ago, and some time ago. You were bleeding both times, and I helplessly watched you like that. It's like déjà vu. Do you know what I was thinking? First, someone wanted to die because of me. And recently, someone got hurt because of me. Don't you think I'm suffering too?

                "I just feel that I don't deserve the hatred you're bearing towards me. I didn't do anything. Why do you hate me? You don't have the right to act mean to me."

                I’m staring at the white ground below me, listening at every single word Jongin says. They’re ringing back inside my head. I have yet to say anything.

                “I said what I wanted to say. I’ll get going.”

                He walks forward, and passes me. I still haven’t changed my sight from the snow below.

                “There are a lot of snowflakes on your hair, brush them off.”

                With that, he continues walking, and the sound of his footsteps fades away.