Kyungsoo’s fountain pen is literally the bane of his existence. He carries that fountain pen with him wherever he goes . The fountain pen is Kyungsoo’s voice. The fountain pen is Kyungsoo’s emotions. The fountain pen is Kyungsoo’s life.

If you ask Kyungsoo why he started communicating via note and paper instead of sign language like other mute people, Kyungsoo probably won’t be able to give you an answer. He does ponder about that question at times, though.

He decides that it’s because it’s the most convenient way of communicating. Sure, he has learnt sign language (and he’s pretty good at it too) but Kyungsoo is almost certain that strangers he meets wouldn’t quite appreciate him waving his fingers around, up, down, left, right. Not exactly what you’d call a conducive environment to make friends. Kyungsoo is also certain that most people wouldn’t exactly want to go through the hassle to pick up sign language just to get to know a mute kid better. So, Kyungsoo settles for his trusty fountain pen. It’s convenient. It’s easy.

Over time, he’s moved on from scraps of unwanted paper to a more dignified writing pad. The writing pad soon becomes a part of Kyungsoo’s life too. He only ever uses that one brand, A Star Writing Pad. Why? Kyungsoo doesn’t know why, either. He just likes it, he guesses.

Kyungsoo realizes that he doesn’t know many of the reasons as to why he lives his life this way.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know if he should be worried.

The cat’s pretty much out of the bag. Everyone in school knows that Jongin is down with chronic myelogenous leukemia. Kyungsoo spends most of his time sitting on the trusty chair beside Jongin’s bed. He comes as fast and as often as he can. Kyungsoo always arrives on the dot. He always appears at 2:30 pm in the afternoon, right after the last class is dismissed (for the first time ever, Kyungsoo is actually kind of thankful that he’s labeled under “special needs”). He stays till 10:30 in the night and sometimes even later until the nurses have to bustle him and not-so-patiently request for him to leave. On weekends, Kyungsoo arrives at 8AM and he stays there till 10:30PM.

Jongin wonders why Kyungsoo keeps visiting him. Jongin finds it strange that he actually doesn’t really mind his visits. Jongin finds it peculiar that his heart actually leaps with anticipation as the clock ticks nearer to 2:30pm. Jongin finds it funny that he goes to bed at night with an image of a certain boy in his mind.

Kyungsoo comes with different things each time. Sometimes he comes with heavy piles of textbooks; sometimes he arrives panting from the weight of the 2 huge bags filled to the brim with freshly plucked strawberries; sometimes he just comes with nothing but a new DVD of the latest blockbuster. But, what Kyungsoo always has in his pockets is his A Star Writing Pad and black fountain pen.

Kyungsoo spends most of his time talking to Jongin. They have conversations; they exchange jokes; Kyungsoo fills Jongin on what he had missed in school, nothing much happened today. Today was boring. Ms Oh was sick today, the relief teacher let us watch Pororo! Oh during gym today, Mr Park was trying to demonstrate how to do the splits but he ended up splitting his pants!!!

In exchange, Jongin tells Kyungsoo about his day, the hospital food , the porridge was cold and yucky today! (Kyungsoo starts packing Jongin lunch and dinner from then on. He takes extra pride in dumping the remains of the hospital food from hell into the bin and replacing it with his own masterpiece – kimchi stew, chicken porridge, salad, and watching Jongin’s face light up brighter than the neon signs in Hongdae.)

The tv channels are extremely boring, can you believe that they don’t have Pororo?

Jongin’s life for the next few weeks are well spent on watching episode after episode of Kyungsoo’s seemingly never ending  stash of Pororo DVDs.

I had my first round of chemotherapy today.

“Was it painful” the concerned reply is always instantaneous.

“Nah, I’m good. Don’t worry, Kyungsoo!”

Sometimes, Jongin wonders why he doesn’t just speak. It’s not like he doesn’t have a voice, right?

Their conversations are kept locked within the thick pages of Kyungsoo’s A Star Writing Pad, and although Kyungsoo would be extremely ashamed to admit it, he sometimes goes to bed hugging the writing pad against his chest. Why? Kyungsoo doesn’t really know why. He guesses that he just likes it, that their conversations can be kept forever, immortalized within the rich black ink scrawled all over the pages.

Happiness comes in the little surprises that appear here and there in one’s life. For Kyungsoo, happiness is in the form of a certain male sitting up against propped up pillows, hands animatedly moving, fingers talking to Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo is exhilarated and he hurriedly stashes his bag of fruits away, never mind that it’s dangerously perched near the edge of the wooden table beside Jongin’s bed.

“Hello! Nice to meet you,” Jongin’s fingers greets, “my name is Jongin!”

Kyungsoo feels like he’s going to cry.

“When did you pick up sign language?” Kyungsoo’s fingers move quickly, a strange feeling of utmost joy seeping through his entire being.

Kyungsoo’s fingers are furiously dancing, with a passion and excitement ignited within the very depths of Kyungsoo’s own pounding heart.

Jongin watches from the bed, amazed at the grace, the beauty, the splendor.

Kyungsoo goes on and on, his wrists moving at an astounding speed and it’s only after a few minutes that he realizes that Jongin is just staring at him with a wide-eyed dreamy smile plastered over his face.

It doesn’t take him long to realize with a sheepish ruffle of his hair that Jongin didn’t understand a thing that he had just related.

“Sorry, I got carried away,” embarrassed words line his writing pad.

“Don’t be sorry,” Jongin grins as he retrieves the fountain pen from Kyungsoo’s grip and neatly scribbles his reply underneath Kyungsoo’s message, “it’s my fault for learning so little.”

Kyungsoo watches as Jongin grabs an apple from the plastic bag Kyungsoo had left beside his bed and Kyungsoo finds himself wondering why Jongin doesn’t just speak. It’s not like he doesn’t have a voice, right?

Kyungsoo hears the familiar comforting sound of pen against paper. Once again, he finds himself marveling at the speed at which Jongin writes.

“You should teach me more sign language someday” the message chuckles and Kyungsoo smiles.

The rest of the day is spent with Jongin proudly showing Kyungsoo all that he’s picked up from tutorials he had spent the day watching on his iPad.

“Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Jongin!” To be honest, that’s all Jongin had learnt from 3 hours’ worth of “Sign Language for Dummies 101” tutorials and Kyungsoo wants to laugh because is Jongin really that dumb? Jongin doesn’t stop illustrating that single line with his hands. Kyungsoo has lost count of how many times Jongin had over-excitedly splayed his hands in the air moving here, there, up, down.

Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Jongin!

Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Jongin!

Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Jongin!

“You can stop now, I know that your name is Jongin,” Kyungsoo teases after Jongin does it yet again, “let me teach you something else, something more useful.”

“I don’t want to stop,” Jongin frowns teasingly, playfully pushing the fountain pen under the sheets, wriggling his toes as if to tease Kyungsoo; you can’t make me stop.

And stop, he doesn’t. Kyungsoo’s day is filled with nonstop chatter.

Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Jongin!

Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Jongin!

Hello, nice to meet you! My name is Jongin!

Jongin isn’t sure when he fell in love with the shorter male. Maybe it’s when he finds himself smiling as he watched the bespectacled male nod off to sleep, the re-runs of Pororo still airing on the tv in front of him. Maybe it’s during that horrible night when he screamed himself out from his nightmare of hurting ribs and scorching body temperature and was nursed back into slumber by a certain pair of smooth warm hands. Maybe it’s when his fingers are propped against Kyungsoo’s black fountain pen; and he realizes how much he likes the sound of pen against paper. Maybe it’s when he looks up after having finished scribbling a reply to whatever lame joke Kyungsoo had just cracked and he finds himself getting lost in the maze of huge twinkling brown orbs. And he realizes with a start that he doesn’t mind getting stuck in the maze forever and always. Maybe that’s when he realizes that Kyungsoo means the world to him. Maybe that’s when he discovers that Kyungsoo is the world. Jongin’s world.

It’s one of those lazy days again when Jongin just lays in his bed, casually flipping channels on the tv, with Kyungsoo by his side, of course. Jongin nudges Kyungsoo (who’s almost nodding off to sleep), and points towards the A Star Writing Pad and the black fountain pen lying on the bedside table. 

“Teach me how to say ‘I love you’ in sign language,”

Kyungsoo is embarrassed but he teaches Jongin all the same. His flaming cheeks are to become the brunt of Jongin’s teasings fo