As expected, in the night class after I visited his house, Jongin didn’t come. Professor Han decided to take a look first and postpone our presentation until Jongin is able to attend the class.

                Mr. Gil came to take me home again, and every time I see him I get somehow tense. There’s nothing from Grandpa yet, and I feel both anxious and slightly relieved. Does he have something up his sleeve? Or has he decided to give up?

                I’m on my way to the next night class when I spot Jongin walking towards the building in a long brown coat, thick black scarf, and white mask covering half of his face. Our eyes meet, and I nod a bit.

                “Have you gotten better?” I ask.

                “Yeah.” he answers shortly. His tone makes me a bit uncomfortable, but we end up climbing the stairs together.

                Seeing that he doesn’t continue the talk, I’m assuming nothing weird happened relating to my visit yesterday, and his alleged girlfriend. Should I confirm? “Um, yesterday—”

                “Oh, is that you, Kim Jongin?” a ringing voice comes from the stairs, and we both turn around. It’s Professor Han. “Are you fit enough to be in class?”

                “Yes, Sir.” Jongin glances at me, and Professor Han prompts us to continue walking. I guess I should just be quiet.

                After class, I’ve packed my bag and prepared to leave when Jongin faces my direction. “Do you want to talk about something?”

                I quickly shake my head. “Yes. No. Yes. I mean—our project. We should finish this up.”

                He looks at me for a second, then blinks. “Okay. When do you have time to discuss?" 

                “Tomorrow at 5 PM? Library?” I offer.

                “Alright.” he lifts his belongings, stands up, and walks out from the class. I exhale inaudibly. I won’t bring up anything about the visit later if he doesn’t.

*

                Saturday evening, my family is visiting my grandparents’ house, and I’m clenching my teeth on the way there.

                “It’s okay, Dana, I don’t think your grandfather is going to do something. He didn’t call or ask for anything strange. It’s Christmas Eve, what could he possibly do? Our whole family will be there.”

                “I hope so.” I say with a sigh.

                We arrive, and I feel a bit of diffidence, remembering myself storming out of this house last time. I put needless full concentration on carrying the food that we bought earlier, and my parents led the way inside.

                “We’re here, Father, Mother.” Dad announces our entrance.

                I hear Grandma marching from the backyard, and I see Grandpa reading the newspaper in the living room. I drop the belongings in the kitchen, and greet Grandma first. I really don’t have the intention to say anything to Grandpa.

                “Dana, aren’t you going to greet Grandpa?” Mom sets her voice a tone higher than usual. I hide my scoff, and drag my feet to the living room to do as told.

                “Ah, you all are here. What a blessing.” Grandpa folds the newspaper. “This is a nice timing. I have something to talk about before the others come.”

                I’ve taken a seat, but I can’t make myself comfortable after Grandpa said that. “What is it, Father?” Mom asks.

                “Tomorrow, I’m going to look for flowers to plant next spring. I wonder if Dana could accompany me. We haven’t spent much time together since she entered university.”

                Looking for flowers in the winter? I feel doubtful.

                “I have things to talk about in private with her… And maybe an apology.”

                I look down to the floor. Things… I wonder what those things are.

                “How is it, Dana? Or do you have plans for Christmas day?”

                I try to look at Grandpa, and open my mouth. “I… Um… I think I can go.”

                “Good. I will come pick you up at 10 with Mr. Gil. I’ll buy you delicious food.” Grandpa smiles. His affectionate tone brings a sheer guilt after what I did last time here.

                The night goes without any hitch, and I come home slightly anticipating.

*

                The day after, I can hear my neighbor blasting Christmas songs starting from early morning. I shake my head slowly as I pick a pair of shoes from the shelf in front of the door. A vague sound of a car coming is heard, and I peek from the window. Grandpa is here.

                I open the door before Mr. Gil finishes opening the gate, and he smiles to see me. “Please come to the car, Miss Dana. It’s cold.”

                I get in, and sit beside Grandpa who’s looking warm in his light brown coat. He tilts his head a bit as he smiles. “You look pretty, but what’s with the black clothes on this cheery day?”

                I lift up one side of my lips and caress my black stocking. “I don’t know… Since entering university, I like dark colors more.”

                “Mr. Gil, bring us to Yangjae-dong. Most of the stores will be closed but I know some which are still open on holiday.”

                I spend most of the trip looking at the streets outside, and Grandpa also doesn’t talk much. Once we arrive, there are very few people in the flower market, and Grandpa heads straight to a store near the entrance.

                “This is the store I frequent with your grandmother.” Grandpa says, his eyes glistens with delight as he sees the freshly cut flowers on display.

                “Why is Grandma not coming?”

                “Oh, she comes here all the time. Now I want to spend some time with my granddaughter.” Grandpa smiles. “Now, Dana, what do you think about oriental orchids?”

                We spend some time browsing the store and consulting the florist about flower seeds, and Grandpa chooses pansies and petunias as his final choices. I realize that I look quite out of place with my mostly black outfit. My light gray bag is not helping the overall vibe.

                “Do you need anything else, Grandpa? Gardening tools?” I ask.

                “Oh, I still have the good ones at home.” he answers, and turns to the florist. “Can I have some asters in a bouquet?”

                “Is it for Grandma?”

                “Oh, no.” Grandpa chuckles. He holds onto the bouquet even in the car, and I keep staring at it.

                “Who is it for, then?” I keep asking.

                “A friend.” Grandpa solemnly says. The sides of my mouth go down. ‘Friend’? Is it…?

                “Mr. Gil, take us to the cemetery in Seocho-dong.”

                It’s not very far from the flower market, and I quietly follow Grandpa to the snowy green field where the graves are. He stops in front of one at the very end of a line, someone named Kim who passed away exactly three years ago.

                “This is where my dear friend rests.” Grandpa says. He lays the asters near the tombstone. “Kim Jongin’s grandfather.”

                I vacantly stare at the tombstone. I didn’t know his friend passed away.

                After what happened six years ago, I mostly keep my distance from Grandpa. Not as far as hating him, but definitely not as close as we used to be.

                “Dana… Here, I want to apologize for what we did that time. When I think about it again, how could we do it to such young children… And the worse part is, even after what happened to you, I haven’t apologized properly.

                The incident that happened to you two at school some time ago is like a reminder to me that I have unfinished business to deal with. I hope you can accept this pathetic apology in front of my friend’s grave. What I meant by ‘fate’ previously was I guess our families are still tangled in a way or another.

                I don’t expect you and Kim Jongin to be good friends or anything, but I hope you two don’t bear any ill feelings towards each other because everything was entirely your old grandfathers’ fault.”

                After he said that, Grandpa looks over my shoulder and his eyebrows raise, noticing something.

                “Ah.”

                I turn around, and see a man and a woman walking towards us slowly. Jongin is one of them.