⎛ three years later ⎠

Lee Hyunwoo packed his bags and left on a rain to Seoul as soon as he could. He was never seen again, as he dyed his hair and gave up his tear collecting business. He still noticed the sadness in people’s eyes, noticed how they, just like him, faked happiness in every way they could. But for him, their fakeness was obvious. He couldn’t help but see it, and sometimes he acted without thinking.

Sometimes, someone would see a stranger helping their child when they fell off the swings, pulling a bandaid from his back pocket and applying it to the cut. Other times, a nice young man was being generous enough to help load groceries into a little old lady’s car, brushing off all the compliments she threw his way. The name of the man was never spoken of, but rumors of the legendary tear collector began circling around, and some people even began to say that the nice, helping man was the tear collector’s brother.

Hyunwoo chuckled as a little girl looked up at him, holding a bandaid to his nose. “Here, you put this on your knee, and you’ll be alright.”

The girl wiped at her eyes, sniffling and accepting the bandaid. “Mister, what’s your name?”

Hyunwoo paused, thinking about it. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “If I tell you, will you promise to keep it a secret?” The girl nodded, and with a playful smile, he leaned down close to her ear and whispered: “I’m the tear collector.”

She looked up at the stranger that gave her the bandaid, a new and knowing light slipping into her eyes. “Thank you, stranger!” She called once she put the bandaid on, waving and running off to her awaiting parents.

Hyunwoo watched with a small smile, then turned his gaze up to the sky. After a minute or too, he let out a melancholy and weary chuckle, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. He held out his hand, looked down, and watched as the tear dripped from his chin onto his hand. Closing his fist around the wet spot, Hyunwoo looked up, shoved his hand in his pocket, and then began the short journey home.

⎛ end ⎠