Age 11

December.  And this is the first time Jongin has seen so much snow.  This is the first time he's seen trees with cotton-colored branches.  This is the first time he's seen the thermometer drop below zero.  This is the second Christmas without his mother.  But it's lonely just the same.

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Jongin walks three steps ahead.  Young In follows in the prints that he leaves on the icy road, three steps behind.

"Hurry up," Jongin says gruffly, not bothering to turn around.  He stuffs his hands into his pockets.  Young In's feet crunch over the snow as she runs to catch up.  

They walk a little further, their treading footsteps crushing icy crystals simultaneously.  Jongin's shoes make a shuffle-shuffle noise as he drags his feet along.  Young In breathes on her palms to keep them warm.

"Did you bring gloves?" Jongin asks suddenly.

"No," Young In says, her voice muffled behind her hands.  "I don't need them.  My hands are plenty warm."

Jongin stops walking and looks at her, scoffing.  "Liar."  

He takes off his woolen cap and slips it over Young In's hair.  She has to fix it so it doesn't cover her eyes.  

"What are you, cold-blooded?" he says.

They walk again, but Young In's hands are still cold.  Now she wishes that she had brought gloves, except she doesn't say anything.  If she does, she knows Jongin will go, "I told you so.  I told you that you would be cold."  She  knows he'll say that, because she feels like he's changed.  This Jongin is different than the Jongin that brought her bandages when she hurt her knee.  This Jongin is different than the Jongin who ran away to get ice cream.  This Jongin is quieter, stranger, newer.  He knows a lot of things that she doesn't know yet and sometimes he acts cold and distant.  Young In hopes that this is because he has a lot of stuff to think about on his own, not because he doesn't like her anymore.  She isn't sure if she likes or dislikes this new Jongin so she just pulls her scarf tighter around her neck and walks on.

Every few seconds, she steals a glance at Jongin, remorsefully.  She suddenly can't remember if he ever wore a scarf.  Or if he ever had one.  If Jongin liked pink, fluffy scarves, Young In would have given hers to him.

"Why are you walking so slow again?" Jongin grumbles.

Young In smiles.  She knows Jongin isn't really grumpy, just annoyed because she didn't bring gloves and lied that her hands were warm.  She can never lie around Jongin.

She runs toward him, ignoring the aching cold in her toes.  She likes these kinds of things--watching Jongin pretend to be angry but smiling once she's around.

She jumps up quickly and flings her arms around his shoulders and wraps her legs around his waist.  He makes a surprised grunt until he realizes that Young In is up on his back, and she's going to stay--whether he wants it or not.

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"Are your ears cold?"

Jongin nods a "Yes."

Young In covers his ears with her hands.

"Are your legs tired?"

He nods again.  "Yes."

She presses her palms against his frost bitten cheeks. 

"Am I heavy?"

Jongin adjusts his grip around her legs so that she isn't choking him with her arms.  "Yes."

"Don't you wish we could ride the bus so we could get home faster?"

He twists his neck around to glimpse at her.  "No."

"Why not?"

Jongin walks for a little longer and then stops.  Young In asks a lot of things, but he doesn't mind.  He feels like he lives off of these questions, because without them there isn't much for him to talk about.  Young In's curiosity is endless and bothersome, but it keeps him alive, in a way.  His mind at least.

"Do you see that lamp post over there?" he asked.

"You mean the one by the library?"

Jongin carries her across the street and puts her down, right under the lamp post.  Young In releases her grip around his neck as her feet touch the ground.  

"What are you doing?" Young In asks, as she pulls the woolen hat down to cover her ears.

Jongin wraps his bare hands around the lamp post, grinning so wide he felt his cheekbones whine.  There are so many things that he wants to do.  But the thing he wants to do most, is make Young In smile to wipe the cold right out of her eyes.

"I really don't like riding the bus," Jongin says.

"I like though."

"I'm going to make it snow."

"What?"

With all his strength, Jongin shakes the steel pole back and forth.  He hears the bells that someone hung at the top of the light, ringing.  He laughs enthusiastically and leans his head back to stare at the heavens.

Young In is surprised until she notices the white flakes tumbling around her.  She can't help but giggle too, her slender eyes sparkling with laughter until her dark irises disappear.  Her soft lips empty out every ounce of excitement she has as she claps and squeals because she's never seen snow fall from under the sky.  She sticks out her tongue to catch the plummeting crystals, as if they had come from clouds.

Jongin feels his emptiness being filled with the sound of winter bells and sprinkling snowflakes and the wind whistling under the sleeves of his sweater.  His heart is filled with the sound of Young In's loud laughter and celebrating cheers.

Her laugh is so bright, it makes him want to give her a hug.

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The librarian comes out and scolds and chases them away.  Jongin is still laughing as he grabs Young In's hand and pulls her down the street, toward home.

​Young In decides that new Jongin is really just old Jongin hidden in a shell, and he needs things like Young In' s lies and snow-covered lamp posts to come out.  She thinks this Jongin isn't too bad.

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That night, Jongin runs a fever as he shivers under layers of thin sweaters.  His ears hurt, his nose is pink, and his fingers are blue with the cold.

But he still laughs every time he imagines Young In smiling.  

He never knew that cold Decembers without mothers could be so happy.

20:45 pm