feath·er·weight

Unimportant; trifling; slight.

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September 5 (Wednesday)

Eighteen year old Oh Sehun could only allow himself to blink at the peculiar sight in front of him.

Just a little way ahead, the boy was able to see Han Kyung Mi, the bespectacled girl, being obviously upset. It was evident to all that he was within an earshot, but that was not the subject at hand. Her lowered shoulders, the way she stood, why — it was just in the manner she held her own frontage to be. Most definitely, her countenance spoke of immense despondency. Only after a few moments did the male classmate then avert his attention to the supposed cause. Strangely, the imperceptible sense of dissatisfaction crossed his features when he spotted the apparent person. It was the girl’s famous best friend, Gongchan Shik, who held an expression of regret and guilt. It looked like he was trying to reason with her or something. Of course, Oh Sehun was not absolutely certain about the content of their conversation but he figured it was something important. Something weighty. The boy just knew better than to eavesdrop, and so he slipped away.

Nevertheless, he did not walk too far away. He placed himself strategically by the wall, still able to watch the whole scenario. It must have struck others as weird, since it was just a situation that was rather common between most people. It wasn’t like he just saw a mythical unicorn prancing out from a corner or a fabled dragon staring at him maliciously. Even so, the supposed hushed exchange between Han Kyung Mi and Gongchan Shik was one that intrigued the laconic male. And so he watched, picking up subtle hints from the way their respective physiques reacted. Sehun was close to wondering as to how long he had been discreetly plus impolitely watching the pair when Gongchan finally shook his head at her and entered the cool library, shutting the door promptly behind him. The girl looked furious with a tinge of childishness within, perhaps wiping a stray tear beneath the tinted spectacles before braving her own self.

The silent eighteen year old sighed to himself, finding it to be rather deplorable. Yet who was he to ask, the witness of a dialogue he was not meant to see? Exactly — he was just a stranger at the most, if one accounted the relations. However, his own being remained by the wall, having no intention to move. Maybe a part of the male had just been waiting to find out for himself in a chary mien as to what was going on that afternoon. After all, surely he wouldn’t appear too suspicious as he was the one who walked her home faithfully as of late, right? Sooner or later, Kyung Mi had spotted him and sported a poor greeting.

“Hello, Sehun,” chuckled Kyung Mi in a bland tone. “Did I keep you waiting? I’m sorry if I did.” The male inwardly evaluated his moves, allowing a bare blink to escape him in order to stall time.

Perplexingly, he proceeded to tilt his head slightly in an effort to scrutinize at her face.

“I…” began Sehun deliberately. “Don’t think that I’ve been kept waiting. Even if I have been, all of that would be easily disregarded if one notices your expression.” Plaintively, he paused as he watched her reaction. It was imminent, and it displayed clear astonishment.

“What do you mean?” asked Kyung Mi with sheer and genuine surprise. The boy was debating inwardly as to what to say, and decided that being straightforward was the best option.

“… You look really sad,” he quietly uttered. At that, it was enough to make the true expression surface unto her complexion. A small smile managed to flit past her face, nevertheless.

“And should I congratulate you for being right?” she questioned rhetorically, preferring to tell him the truth instead of lying because it was quite impossible to deceive the stoic male.

This time, Sehun allowed his suspire to pass; to form. He wondered, with significant curiousity for the nth time as to what made her so upset. Luckily for him, the spectacled girl actually began speaking of her woes.

“I didn’t mean to get angry at him,” said Kyung Mi dolefully, speaking more for her own sake than her classmate’s. “I do know that the exams are really important to him, and I admire that part of him. Gongchan, I mean. But…” The eighteen year old girl then laughed softly to herself.

“I just thought he would drop it just for today to celebrate my birthday with me,” continued Kyung Mi with a reckless grin. “Just… yea. Nothing big, you know? Let’s get going now.” With that, she promptly her heel and began walking back to her place. Meanwhile, her eighteen year old classmate was left unexpectedly stunned.

Of all things, he never considered the possibility of a person’s birthday to be part of the past argument or something. He thought that it was a mix-up, a general squabble, but surely nothing close to this. Perhaps he could have been smarter about this, but how could he have known? Sehun only looked at the library’s closed doors for one more brief moment before catching up to the girl.

“Birthday, huh…” mused the rather insensate male to himself, finding it to be a complex topic. Kyung Mi noted his subtle abruptness when he walked alongside her, and she found it to be quite the entertainment. She smiled a little at the thought of it, yet one can be sure that the other had not seen it at all. Eventually, Kyung Mi was taking a step towards the left turn when the faint yet firm grip of the male’s hand on her shoulder disallowed her from doing so. She turned around in confusion, meeting his unwavering eyes.

“Sehun?” she asked.

The male did not even permit himself a sole blink upon the articulation of his name.

“Birthday people don’t just go home like usual,” uttered Sehun cryptically. She could only stare at him afterwards. It was extremely probable that it was an innocent remark, but it sounded awfully awkward during the first few seconds. And by the slight contortion of his facial expression which differed from his lackluster one, it looked like he realized his inadvertent mistake as well. The eighteen year old boy cleared his throat before speaking once more.

“I meant,” he corrected slowly. “That we should grab a light snack before returning you home for dinner. And sort of, well, show you a place that I think you would find to be great.” He finally stopped, finding it to be almost torturous since he was often a person who didn’t say a lot of words in one chance. Tersely, with dry expression does Sehun then wait upon the girl’s response.

Han Kyung Mi needed time to consider his offer. It was rather out of the blue, and never did she once think that the other was capable of doing such a thing. It sounded almost cruel, but it was the plain truth. However, as she saw the hidden uncertainty in his eyes as a fellow human being, she decided to take up on the sincere suggestion.

“Sure, and thank you for being so kind, Sehun,” she replied gratefully. For a moment, he showed his shock of being complimented but he was quick to hide it.

“… Then we’ll get going now, Kyung Mi,” said Sehun with the rare, temporal smile of his as he turned right instead. Although he couldn’t see it, she nodded jovially. Even so, a part of her still wished that the Gongchan that was in the school library would be present by her side on a day like this.

“Fancy some cotton candy?” asked Sehun monotonously when they passed a snack cart. She laughed almost instantaneously at his direct query, delivered with such emotionlessness. “That sounds nice,” uttered Kyung Mi with an easy grin. He then blinked, making a gesture which implied that he would be paying. In a rather suave manner did the boy then pass the aforementioned treat to the girl, who responded favourably. Sehun looked at the man who was waiting for the money, but then disregarded that factor. Innocently, Kyung Mi observed the other’s moves, wondering as to which treat he intended to take. It was most probable that he’d take the chocolate bar or the bag of toffees, in her opinion. Impassively, he then took another stick of cotton candy for himself and subsequently paid the petty fee.

“… What,” said Sehun with a scowl when he saw the look on her face.

Kyung Mi only chuckled once more.

“It’s… just really funny to see you choosing cotton candy when there are other choices,” she explained mildly. Sehun stared at her meekly afterwards.

“So be it,” he murmured as he began eating the spun sugar. “Laugh away.” Eventually, they resumed their initial journey of going wherever he intended to bring her to and finished their respective cotton candies. It turned out to be the top of a fine, fenced hill. By then, it was a time between evening and the night itself, which was the constant reminder that she was to get home safely on time. It was rather dark, but it was obvious that she could sort of make out where Sehun was, if not for the specific qualities.

“How do you like the view?” he quietly asked, gesturing towards the darkening horizon.

Her eyes then flickered to that general direction, and in that instant she found herself utterly bewitched. It was a simple beauty, in which a skyline of the city that enabled her to witness the lights of the said buildings being switched on automagically. It was beautiful in a certain manner, and it was something so picturesque that it took her breath away.

“It’s amazing,” said Kyung Mi wistfully. “Thank you for this gift, Sehun…” It was then and there did the boy catch her off-guard once again. To her answer, he only shook his head.

“… That’s not your gift though,” he shortly replied as he carefully held something frail in his right hand, waiting for the other to notice. A short note of bewilderment escaped her, but every single syllable stopped when she saw the thing he held in his hand. It was a dandelion seed head.

A small, almost rapt smile framed his countenance.

“Make a wish,” he suggested in a stage-whisper. Sehun, be it consciously or not, stared at her undauntedly. Kindly, she then took it from him and smiled.

“You’re such a nice person,” quietly asserted Kyung Mi before walking a little way off to wish. With eyes shut tight, she mumbled her inner desire and blew at the dandelion, causing the little seeds to scatter in the breath of a whisper. And it was such a mien she remained in until the sound of the other’s voice disturbed her temporal stillness that lay within.

“Interesting — you just helped a weed to lengthen its lifeline,” remarked Sehun almost mockingly. However, the smile of his face did not match his supposed comment. Finally, her eyes widened with inquisitiveness.

“Say,” began Kyung Mi slowly. “Is it true that you get to know someone more as long as you spend time with them? And asking questions of that sort?” The classmate patiently waited for the girl to articulate her thoughts, blinking as a passive response. The tinted spectacled girl scratched the back of her neck in slight perplexity.

“So why is it that the more I ask you things or something,” continued Kyung Mi. “You seem to get even more and more confusing? You’re like a question that complicates with each supposed answer…” He first glanced at the bare dandelion, and then at her before allowing an impish grin that nearly resembled a smirk to surface. He permitted himself to stretch lazily like a cat would, and finally answered her query in an elusive mien anyway.

“Maybe it’s because some people are trying to fix things that were already imperfect,” uttered Sehun as he nonchalantly raised his brow at her. “You’d be surprised.” Then the male, no matter how laconic, managed to say something that burned in the back of her mind forever. Well, almost forever then. The eighteen year old male relaxed his arms on the wooden fence before glancing at her unwaveringly.

“But there’s one thing I know for sure,” he spoke briefly. “And you should know it too, Kyung Mi.” There was a pregnant pause as he halted in his words. But that was surely only for a ghostly moment before the next few.

“You’ve changed me.”

At that, her eyes widened immediately and her cheeks flushed a florid red. She was glad that the night was already here, and so it was highly unlikely that he would witness her embarrassing state. Even so, the words he uttered were something to be considered deeply. The boy, perhaps having seen or not seen her reaction, looked at the dark sky that was beginning to decorate itself with a cluster of stars. Did he approve? Did he find it disdainful? She did not know what was running through that seemingly stoic male’s mind that night, but as Kyung Mi gripped the bare dandelion — the eighteen year old was able to realize something. It looked like spending her birthday with someone else other than her best friend Gongchan Shik was alright after all.