❣ 8 ❣

September 30^th, 2022

            “She’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing her arms.

            The hospital air was cold, sending shivers up their spines every few minutes. The smell of medicine and antiseptic was light in the air, barely masking the aura of despair around everyone in the waiting room.

            Her father was sitting down next to her, holding her hand for comfort. But he could barely feel anything, his whole body numb with shock. His hand was barely holding onto hers.

            Joonmyun sat on the other side of the small-framed girl, palms rubbing up and down her sleeveless arms to keep them warm, even though his own arms were freezing. His eyes were trained on her face, watching for any switch of expression, a flicker of anything.

            And Mikyung just sat there, unaware of her father, her best friend, or anyone else around her.

            She came home that day with Joonmyun following, prepared to play a song for her mom. When she got into the kitchen, her mom was on the floor, unconscious, with the cake she had been making just starting to burn.

            Mikyung told Joonmyun to pull the cake out before the fire alarm went off, and even before he reached the oven, she was on the phone, calling for an ambulance.

            Now, as she sat in the hospital waiting room, she wondered what could have caused something like this to happen to her mother. Maybe it wasn’t that bad, she kept trying to tell herself. Maybe her mom just passed out from dehydration. But she knew, deep inside, that wasn’t it. If it was, her mother would be awake already, and free to go.

            “Mikyung, let’s go walk outside. You’re freezing,” said Joonmyun, nudging her arm gently.

            Her dad agreed numbly with Joonmyun and tried to smile while saying, “Don’t want you getting sick. I’ll come get you if anything happens.”

            Joonmyun pulled Mikyung up and out the door, the two of them slowly walking outside.

            They’d finished perfecting a few songs that Joonmyun had written, this time with the help of Mikyung. A perfect day had so quickly come crashing down, bulldozed over by impending doom.

            He reached forward to try to brush her bangs away from her eyes. Her head was hung down, eyes empty, with tears threatening to rush down her cheeks.

            “Come on, Mikyung. Look up.” Joonmyun tilted her chin up slowly with his index finger.

            Her eyes flickered towards the bright blue sky, with a few clouds to block the blazing sun.

            “The skies aren’t cloudy, or rainy. They’re reminding you to try not to be sad,” he muttered. “They feel just how you’re feeling. There are still clouds up there. But they’re not going to cry. So you shouldn’t either, alright?”

            She looked towards Joonmyun and nodded, biting her bottom lip.

            “You’re strong, Mikyung. Don’t let sad thoughts cloud over you when there are happier thoughts out there for you.” He smiled as best as he could, hoping that Mikyung would follow.

            He was rewarded by the faintest lift of the corners of her lips.

October 10^th, 2022

            No. There was nothing for Mikyung to smile about.

            She wasn’t mad at Joonmyun for getting her hopes up that day. She wasn’t made at him, or anyone else for trying to cheer her up. Actually, no. There was one person, or being that she was mad at. And that was, in her mind, the all powerful being up in the sky that had allowed her mother to pass away. He or she didn’t let her mother pass peacefully either. She died of an aneurysm, something that couldn’t possibly have been detected by anyone but perhaps (unlikely) the victim of it.

            In pitch-black clothes, her small form looked even frailer. Joonmyun thought he might break her just by patting her arm.

            Her eyes, that had finally lit up again after years, were now dark, and as empty as before.

            They both sat in the front of the group of mourners, listening to Mr. Jung give a short speech. Even as he spoke, the quiver in his voice was evident, and the tears that occasionally slid from his eyes were obvious. His emotions were displayed openly, as was everyone else’s, quite opposite to his daughter’s blank expression.

            Mikyung’s eyes were fixed on her mother’s portrait, propped up, showing her smiling face. How could this happen to a person who only did good things in her life? How could she die from something as unexpected as an aneurysm? Why did this have to happen to her mother, who was always there for her, no matter what?

            She could feel tears fall from her eyes and quickly brushed them away. Joonmyun reached over and held her hand gently, rubbing circles on the back of her hand.

            The funeral had ended after a torturously long period of time, and as people began to bid their final farewells to Mrs. Jung and give the family their condolences, Mikyung slipped out and into the misty air, the cloudy sky overcastting her pain.

            Looking behind her, she could still see Joonmyun talking to her dad, and made her escape. In small, black flats, and a stiff, black skirt, she ran. Ran and ran until her feet took her to the park close to Joonmyun’s coffee shop. The playground there was completely abandoned, since the day was chilly, unsuitable for children to play.

            Mikyung walked over to a small tunnel, where she could remember hiding with Joonmyun, waiting for their parents to find them. Slipping inside, it felt humid, stifling, but she didn’t care. She just needed a place to be alone, to curl up into a ball, and just sit.

            She didn’t cry, or scream, or take out her pain or anger in any way. All she did was sit there, not knowing what to do anymore. She didn’t know how to act, what to say, where to go. She was so lost. And she couldn’t keep looking towards Joonmyun for help.

            While she hid in the tunnel, Joonmyun ran out of the funeral hall, looking around for Mikyung. He knew he shouldn’t have let her out of his sight. He was stupid enough to do so.

            “Joonmyun, are you coming home yet? Or are you going to stay with Mikyung for a bit?” asked Mrs. Kim. Her eyes were finally dry, but the tearstains streaked crudely down her cheeks. Mr. Kim kept a calm composure, but you could see the grief reflected in his eyes.

            “I… I’ll stay with Mikyung. Just for a few hours,” he muttered, eyes darting around to try and catch sight of her.

            Mrs. Kim nodded, and the three of them hugged for a few seconds before his parents departed, leaving him to find Mikyung.

            “Is Mikyung with you?” asked Mr. Jung. He looked as if he had aged ten years, and his voice sounded just as exhausted.

            “She… She’s just gone off to the bathroom. I’ll bring her home.”

            Mr. Jung nodded appreciatively, patted him on the shoulder, and began to slowly walk to his car. His figure looked absolutely solitary, alone. The joy in his face was almost all gone, having left with Mrs. Jung.

              Joonmyun had to go find Mr. Jung’s only hope for happiness now.

            He ran around the building uselessly, trying to see if Mikyung was hidden anywhere. And when he realized that she was hiding, he remembered the only place she would ever hide: the playground. Perhaps knowing her so well was a bad thing sometimes, but at the moment, it was a relief. Immediately, he sprinted in the direction of the playground, in dress shoes and uncomfortable slacks.

            “Mikyung! Please, come out! Mikyung!”

            She cringed, knowing it was only a matter of time before he found her. Rolling onto her side, she let her cheek press against the cool plastic, hoping for it to numb her pain just slightly.

            “Mikyung! If you don’t come out, I’ll keep yelling!”

            It was meant to be funny. Maybe she would’ve laughed two weeks ago. But she only continued to stay still and ignore his calls.

            “Mikyung!” He ran up to the small, plastic tunnel that the two of them used to hide in, and wondered whether she’d even be able to fit inside, before ducking down to peer in. Just as he was about to turn away, there was a shift all the way in the back of the tunnel, and he could barely see her in the dark area.

            She rolled onto her back, unfolding herself. Mikyung’s eyes met with Joonmyun’s, and she turned away. She felt almost childish, ignoring him.

            “Mikyung, please, come out. You know I can’t crawl in there after you,” he said, his voice low and hushed.

            After waiting a few minutes, and knowing that she wasn’t going to come out, he sighed and got down before crawling in on his elbows and knees. Joonmyun’s back brushed against the top roughly, but continued to crawl into the tunnel before ending up by Mikyung’s side.

            “You don’t have to be alone at a time like this, Mikyung.”

            She didn’t reply.

            “You don’t have to keep everything bottled up inside of you.”

            She didn’t reply.

            “You know I’ll always be there for you. What happened to the definite promise?”

            Her eyes turned to meet his, but nothing else in her expression changed.

            Joonmyun struggled to sit up next to her, his knees hitting his chest, but he still managed to pull her into a hug. “I know I told you not to cry before. It was because I knew you were strong enough. I knew you could try to see a brighter outcome. But that doesn’t mean you have to always withstand these things on your own, without showing any emotions. You might want to be alone, but you can’t go through all of this on your own. Please, just let me be a good friend and be here right next to you.”

            Though she shook her head, tears gradually started to run down her pale cheeks. Wrapping her thin arms around him to return the hug, she wept, tears falling onto his jacket. Barely audible whimpers escaped from , and her fingers grasped his jacket tight, as if trying to clench them into a fist.

            He rested his chin on her head and slowly rubbed her back. A few tears ran from his own eyes that were now clenched shut, as he began to sing a song quietly for her.

            “Baby don’t cry, tonight

            when the dark night has lit up.

            Baby don’t cry, tonight.

            Just treat it as if nothing happened.

            You will never be like foam

            Don’t you know that.

            So baby don’t cry, cry.

            My love will protect you and never let go.”

            Though some lyrics didn’t suit the situation, Mikyung’s sobs slowly calmed after a few minutes as she remembered the first day he had sung this to her. She remembered wondering who the “love” in the lyrics was, but never asked.

            All she cared for now was that he was trying to comfort her, stop her tears, and so with a few more minutes, the whimpers had muted, and her tears slowed.

            “I’ll be here for you, Mikyung. So don’t ever feel like you are or have to be alone. Alright?”

            She nodded before quietly saying, “Let’s get out. I can already imagine you complaining about your back tomorrow.”

            Joonmyun smiled. “What am I? A grandpa?”

            “Yeah.”

            “I’m only a year older than you!”

            “Or so you say.”

            The two continued their fond bickering, glad for the lifting of the mood.

            And just as he dropped her off at her house about an hour or so later, she hugged him tight around his waist.

            “Thank you, Joonmyun.”

            He was surprised, because it was the first time she’d said his real name in ages. It felt strange coming from her lips, but he didn’t necessarily see that in a negative light.

            Nodding once, he returned the hug, and they stayed in that position for longer than usual before parting regretfully on both of their parts.

            “I… I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mikyung quickly waved before unlocking the door and slipping inside, leaving Joonmyun mystified, for no reason he could point out.