A cool breeze tousles my hair as I make my way across the barren land. Everything is gone. The lush greenery that used to bring the place to life is no longer present. A melancholic mood takes over me. I close my eyes. The path that I walk is something that I had learned by heart. Feeling the earth beneath my feet, even without seeing I know where my heart will lead me. A few paces further, just a little bit more. I stretch out a hand and it comes in contact with a rough surface.

It still feels the same. As if nothing has changed. The wind sighs my name but I hear a different sound. Psithurism is all I can hear and on the back of my eyelids I can almost see him. I open my eyes and the illusion breaks. The tree that once stood high and mighty is now reduced to a fallen and dying trunk. Everything is dead. Even the cloudless sky is losing its color. Yet the only detail that remains unaffected is the never ending whisper of the wind.

Looking up at the dying tree, its lifeless branches reach down at me and try to hold me there. A sad smile tugs on my lips. Our memories come rushing back to me. I remember the first time I met Moon JongUp.

With my eyes closed, I swore I could hear the ocean. It had a slight quietness to it though. As if the waves did not quite reach the shore, not that the waves never ceased rolling. Every time the wind blew the waves would come in but there was no hint that the waves ever retreated. There was no saltiness in the air nor was there the grainy feeling between my toes. When I opened my eyes I realized that there was no sea in such a vast land. That was when I noticed the tree.

In a green grassy plain, under a sky so blue there stood a lone tree whose leaves were a darker shade of green from the grass. The flourishing leaves were the source of the ocean-like sound. I made my way to the plant only to realize that I was not by myself.

The world which held nothing but its natural surroundings, where I had thought belonged to me and the tree alone; turned out to have another habitant.

Below the tree sat a stranger with his legs outstretched in front of him. I would have just ignored him if it was not for the fact that he was intruding in my personal space.

“Excuse me,” I called out. He looked up at me with his small eyes, his mouth hung open as if baffled by my existence. “What are you doing here?”

He abruptly stood up and dusted his back side, turning his head left and then right as if searching for something. Then he acknowledged my presence once again. “Umm, sitting.”

Yes, that was what he said. That was exactly what he did. All he did was sit. All he did was answer my question. Yet that had planted a seed in my heart, from which our love began to grow.

Time never seemed to be part of this green world. I did not know how time worked here. I still do not know. Because all the while that I am here time would always elude me. “There’s just nature and psithurism,” he told me.

“Psithurism?” I asked, having never heard of the word before.

“It’s the sound the leaves make when the wind blows,” he explained as he leaned against the trunk and extended his arms upwards to the bark. “Kinda sounds like the ocean.”

“Yes,” I nodded, beaming at the coincidence. “I thought I was the only person who heard it that way.”

He turned to me and grinned, his features stunning under the shade of the tree; where the daylight made it seem like his skin was decorated by leaves. The way his eyes disappeared into slits, the smile wrinkles that became visible as he did that one simple action was enough for me to ask for his name.

“Moon JongUp,” he answered, the same mesmerizing smile still playing along his thin lips. Then he faced the scenery ahead of him and laid his head back on the tree trunk.

Psithurism. It enveloped our silence with its sweet ghostly whisper. I expected him to ask the same question to me but it was left unasked; unanswered even to this day. I wonder if he actually knew my name. He was never the type to ask.

The matter began to bug me the more he and I spent time together. He did not seem to have a problem with it since he always nudged or tapped my arm to get my attention. If we were further away from each other he would either call out ‘hey’ or ‘excuse me.’ It was never my name that came out of his mouth.

So I decided to raise the question. “JongUp-ssi, do you perhaps know my name?”

He smiled as if he was expecting it. But then his lips turned into a straight line, a distant look in his eyes. “What are names?” he asked, gazing at me with a serious expression.

It sounded as if he was making fun of me. So I got annoyed by the fact that he was not the least curious in wanting to know my name. “Well, my name is –”

“What is it in a name that it’s always the first question people ask when they meet someone new?” he interrupted, glancing up towards the cloudless sky and then shaking his head slightly. “Does it define us? Does it even give meaning to who we really are? Does a name make a person who they are?”

His sudden bombardment of questions surprised me. It also sounded as if he was making up an excuse but I was soon corrected. “What is wrong with a name? Are you not interested in knowing me?”

“Like I said,” JongUp smiled again as he leaned closer to me. Then he hooked loose hair behind my ear, psithurism accompanying his affectionate gesture as if on cue. After that he continued, “I want to know you, not what your name tells of you.”

I sat paralyzed for a few moments, unsure as to how to respond to such words. Feeling something budding inside me, I tried to reason. “But it is possible to overlook it. Will it not leave you curious?”

“In a world where there’s nothing but this tree, its psithurism, me,” he paused, the apple of his cheeks rising as he stared deeply into my eyes. “And you. Curiosity doesn’t have a place here.”

Like a cup of coffee that had been left sitting for too long, he stirred me. Bottled up emotions and hidden truths welled up within me. I finally understood. Even though it was bitter, it left a burst of potent flavors in its wake. The forgotten feeling of belonging bloomed in my heart. What was it in a name? Nothing. What was it about curiosity? Nothing. They were not real. But I was real. JongUp was real. We were real.

But now I begin to doubt that as I trace the lines of the bark. How much of ourselves are real? What is it that makes us us? Is this world really real? Was JongUp ever real? Somehow these questions never seemed to matter when he was by my side, when this world was where we truly thought we belonged.

I still want to believe it though. Only that now half of the reason to trust it had disappeared with the psithurism, the leaves, and the swaying tree. I watch as the bare branches dance to the wind’s whistling. A smile fills my face at a certain memory. He used to move just like the tree, his movements fluid as if the wind had really gotten to him.

“What are you doing?” I giggled at how silly he looked, moving from side to side and then bending as if he would break but his flexible body did not allow it.

He swiveled around and our eyes met. Laughing, he scratched the back of his head, his cheeks wearing the badge of embarrassment. “I thought I’d try dancing with the tree. The psithurism sounds like music and the tree was swaying to it, so I thought I’d join too.”

I stifled a laugh and then nodded at him. “Carry on, then.”

“What?” JongUp looked at me incredulously and then laughed his head off, rolling on the grass. “No! Not with you watching!”

“What is wrong with me watching?” I shook my head, amused at his reaction which made me realize something was blossoming inside of me. The way his laughter left his mouth and how he tried to hide his embarrassment was more than just being coy. To me it was pure happiness, like someone who had never known sadness. It was precious.

After his laughing fit ceased, he gestured me over, patting the grass beside him and then faced the sky. I neared him and rested my body next to his. We stayed like that for a long time, lying in the grass and listening to its psithurism. Because it was not the tree’s alone.

Psithurism. It soothes me in a way that a bubble bath would others. I would spend most of my time in this green world just lying on my back, and listening to the sound of nature. Nothing but psithurism. No chirps, nor buzzes. I expected it to be so. This world holds numerous mysteries.

There seems to be no sun, yet there is light. Where it comes from has always intrigued me. But now the light appears to be fading just like the color of the sky itself. There is a reduced amount of energy trying to keep its colors intact. But it is surely deteriorating. It will not take long for it to be tarnished.

I sit under the tree, and slowly lie down. Gazing up at the less blue sky through the branches, I think of him. I close my eyes and I still think of him. I hear psithurism and I long for Moon JongUp.

I felt a soft poke on my right cheek. The corners of my lips lifted into a smile. Then I felt something land on the bridge of my nose. As it slowly traced down to my philtrum, I muttered, “Five more minutes…”

“Five minutes doesn’t make that much of a difference,” his gentle voice spoke, almost ridiculing me but I knew he was just teasing.

I snuck a peek at him but he caught me opening my eyes so I just giggled instead. He barely chuckled, his eyes vanishing into the moment. Then I opened my eyes and took his hand in mine, intertwining our fingers together. “Five more minutes with you mean everything to me.”

Suddenly, he leaned closer to my face, looking strange. The wind started to get up, as if warning us of something. But he just hovered there, staring deep into my eyes. Then he spoke his rare questions. “Why do you like staying here longer than your own place?”

Sighing, I held up my free hand and outlined the side of his sharp jaw. “Because I get to see you.”

“Besides that?”

“Because I get to be with you.”

“Other than that?”

“Because you get to be with me.”

JongUp fell silent, still searching into my eyes. The look on his face was solemn; my answers were not the ones he had hoped for. Then he averted his sight towards the sole tree that served as a shade to us and pulled his hands to himself. “Please answer me honestly.”

I got up on my elbows and reached for his hand again but he refused to comply. A frown faltered my expression. Sitting up properly in front of him, I then cupped his face in my hands, my thumbs caressing his smooth cheeks. “What other reason do I need to be here if not for you? You, Moon JongUp, are the only reason I exist in this world. The only reason I come here every single day. The only reason I want to be here.”

“But don’t you find it strange that we’re the only people in this world?”

“Is it not because we willed it to be ours and ours only?”

“But why are we here?”

It never occurred to me that I had in no way wanted to be in the green world in the first place. Psithurism had lured me here and then I had found JongUp. It never even crossed my mind to question why we were in this world. I just thought that it was a given, like a cup with its saucer. JongUp with me. Yet he was questioning our existence.

I let my hands fall to my side as I broke contact with his unrelenting gaze. I did not want him telling me that we were not real. I did not want to question anything at all. Staring at the blades of grass that were swaying in the wind, I listened and tried to make the tears go away but they would not. The wind was not helping; it made my eyes leak even more.

“It is quite a blustery day, is it not?” I smiled and blinked, but my tears kept flowing in spite of myself. I could feel the flower wilting. My hair stuck to my face from the wind’s insistence so I tried my best to keep it away. But it continued to bug me, to annoy me, to upset me. Why JongUp? Why?

Abruptly, he got up and turned his back to me. I fixed my gaze on him and waited for him to shatter the deafening psithurism. “I’m leaving.”

I sniffed and wiped my tears away, relieved that he was letting the matter rest. “Yes, I will see you.”

“No,” he said, his shoulders slumped, a back view that was burned into my memory to haunt me for the rest of my life. “I’m leaving. For good.”

I stood up as he took the first few steps. He could not have possibly meant it. There was no way to leave this world entirely. We were bound to this world. This world was bound to us.

“I will see you,” I called out, the gale whipping my hair all over my face. I knew I would see him again. It had always been that way. Why would it be so different next time? “I will wait for you!”

JongUp did not even turn to see me one last time. He did not even wave his hands in the air like he always would. The cold wind pierced my heart. I was scared but I did not say it. I wanted to stop him but I did not do it. All I did was watch him leave, in hopes that he was going to come back. He was going to return like always. He would never leave me alone in this world. But he did such a thing.

He was straying into the horizon, which was when I knew he was leaving. He was really leaving. The petals were dropping like my tears. I could not stop them. But I could stop him. I could have. I should have moved earlier. As my legs began to move like the wind, running after him, it was too little too late. No matter how far I ran in search for him, no matter where I looked through teary eyes, I could not find him. He was gone. Moon JongUp was gone. He left me crying for a lost cause.

I did not understand why he would want to leave. I still do not understand. I try to but I cannot. It is a puzzle for me to put together the pieces of our memories to attempt to find out why. This world where everything seems too real, maybe he was afraid or miserable. But I did not see it. His laughter blinded me of his true feelings. I should never have let him go.

If only he told me what made him want to escape. What it was about this green world that he did not like. What it was that was missing in him. I always thought that our world was complete. I know there is not much but at least there was us. Except that was just me. I never knew how he felt; what he was thinking. I should have known that this world was not what it was to him as it was to me.

Lest our memories try to evade me, I always find myself here searching for him in every single particle of being that is left. It feels as if he is still here. But everything is dying, leaving. Just like him. The world cannot survive without him so I still yearn for him to come back. I wish he would.

I lift my heavy eyelids and stare straight at the sky. It is changing again, now there are grey clouds masking the view of the open sky. The sky is crumbling. I hear psithurism but it is not quite right because it hits the shore. It is the sound of water lapping; waves. The world is flooding. The whole green world is falling apart. So I wish more than ever that he is here with me, like we used to be. Help me, JongUp. Help me keep our world alive.

But it is pointless to hope for something so idealistic. I know I should not hope for him anymore.

In this world where there used to be the tree, its psithurism, me, and him, “Moon JongUp, does our love have no place here?”

Author's note: Dear readers and judges, I understand that there isn’t much angst going on in the story, what with the lack of the OC’s personal feelings being portrayed.  But I should point out that I wanted to focus more on the imagery and symbolism for the angst. So I hope this will at least make it a bit clearer for both readers and judges. Thank you for reading^^