Fear (n.)

-  The longer you stare at fear right at its eyes, the more intimidated it becomes of you up until to the point that you’re not afraid of it any longer.

If my understanding of ethics were correct, ethical theories normally fall into two categories: teleological or deontological. The major difference of those two are these – in teleological ethical theories, one looks at the end result of the action, whereas in deontological ethical theories one examines what propelled the action. It is the question of consequences versus motivation.

Minho accused me once (something I’ve never forgotten) of being simplistic. Perhaps, after all I a man of science; which is not to say that science is simplistic, it’s just very straightforward. Complicated, but straightforward. Life, after all, is very complicated, and the more I live, the more I realize its complications.

Life, too, is straightforward. In a nutshell, we only have one life to live. And as such we try to live with the thought that we have to do it at the superlative level – live to the fullest, love the best, be at your happiest. This very thought is what makes us dangerous creatures. Because of it we tend to be careless when it comes to our decisions. Some live with such abandon and boldness that they fail to perceive that they are living their lives in terms of motivation. There are some that tend to live the opposite way; they live their lives thinking of the consequences. They calculate and try to foresee what their actions can bring.

However, there are those people who tread in between – people like Kai whose actions are both motivational and consequential. Kai came back because he was motivated to make me happy. His end goal is to make me happy.

It’s time I repay him for his loyalty and foolishness. I will find that damn formula, send him back to the future, and save him for good.

***

The next days were sufficiently tense. Kai avoided me like I was plagued, and it made me feel discomfited. He kept on making innocuous excuses, “I’m busy,” “I have a date,” “I’m going out with friends,” “I need to study,” “I’m tired.” It made me feel frustrated that my own son can’t even trust me to help him fix his – our ­– problem. I’ve been locked in my lab more often, trying to figure out the formula Kai said I would figure out. I was getting anxious and irritable and in turn, I’ve lashed out sporadically on Minho and Jinki. Jinki didn’t ask me any questions, but Minho was a different story. Ever the inquisitive, he kept on bugging me, asking what’s got me riled up.

“Tae, what’s the problem?” he asked me one day as we were eating lunch.

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing. Something. Is it me?”

I scooted closer, to assure him. Or to assure me. It was getting more and more difficult to distinguish those two things. “It’s not you.”

He looked me in the eye and asked me again, “I know you’re lying. You’ve been angry as of late. What’s really happening Tae? Tell me so I can fix it.”

Inwardly I laughed at the irony of it all. If only he knew that the real problem lies with us. But I couldn’t tell him that – I can’t afford losing him again. I needed h