Present

Yukhei was there with her the night after, the week after and the month after.

Yena was slowly and steadily losing the remaining parts of herself, only the ruins of her usual calmness stayed with her. It was understandable though. Yukhei remembered how torn and devastated he was when he learned the news of his grandmother's death. He still had both his parents and other relatives while the girl was literally cut off her family, her father absent from her life since she was four years old, everyone on his side gone with him. On top of that, she could never stay in contact with her grandparents on Choi Jieun's part because she didn't allow her. Even though Jieun's wealth mainly came from her father's IT company, she didn't want either of them to tell her how to raise a child while not being able to make a man stay, so she literally prohibited her daughter from doing anything with the elderly. Even the money they wished to give Yena was being sent to a bank account which was solely managed by her mother who kept an eye on every single transaction in case her daughter wanted to withdraw money for her own purposes.

After Jieun's death, Yena was basically alone. Yukhei had never seen her with a friend, so he assumed that she might not had such close friendships after they drifted apart. Without friends and close relatives, he was the one who stayed beside her from the day she got to learn that she lost her mother. People might say that he didn't have a reason to do so after their fall out, but he thought otherwise. He wanted to be there for her when she felt like she was falling apart and the whole world was weighing down on her because she was once there for her too. Although he had his family's support, Yena was the one who was with him when he needed to excuse himself when death was a topic during one of their Literature classes and her reassuring smile was the first he saw at the airport when his family landed in Busan after the funeral held in Hong Kong.

The first day was painful but not as painful as other days. Yena cried her eyes out, soaking his shirt until she dozed off against his shoulder, the weight on her shoulders not bearable enough right after the news. Yukhei gently put her to bed, covering her with the extra soft blanket she brought with herself, the one he knew was her favourite ever since they were kids. He didn't know why he had the urge to stay with her for the rest of the night but after working his shift at the radio station, he did come back to her and slept in the chair beside her table which was pretty uncomfortable because of their height difference but he couldn't care less. What was important was that Yena slept safe and sound and nothing else mattered that night.

Yena was surprised to find Yukhei in her chair the next morning, his lanky body too big compared to her tiny chair, his chest rising continuously. She felt at ease for a second, watching him sleep soundlessly like a baby. Though it was only until she realized why he was there and what was waiting for her that day. She felt nauseous thinking of the turmoil of emotions that were rushing through her, each without guidance. She was utterly confused and broken, she was sure that she was at her weakest in her life. Even though her mother couldn't control her anymore, she still couldn’t believe that she had died. It was so sudden and surprising.

She shook her head fervently to get rid of the demanding voices in her head that didn't sound any less threatening. Without the intention of sleeping more, she tried to leave the room as quietly as she could yet Yukhei still started fidgeting in the chair hearing her footsteps and before she could open her bedroom's door, his eyes flashed open.

They looked at each other for a minute without moving or saying anything. Yukhei examined the girl from head to toe, his heart wrenching at the sight. The puffy redness of her eyes was alarming yet the way her shoulders slumped, and was dry was even more terrifying. Even though she had received the news the day before, she looked like she had been through trauma for more time. The usual childish joyfulness wasn't evident in her onyx-black eyes, it was replaced by heart-breaking grief.

Yukhei didn't know what to say. Are you okay? Are you feeling better? Both sounded like a sugar-coated lie. Yena wasn't okay and she wouldn't be able to feel okay for a long time. How could she? It would have been too cruel to ask something like that. Instead, he opted for something that might not have been a sign of affection, but he sure wanted to take care of her.

"Are you hungry?"

"I don't feel like eating." Yena shook her head, her words weak and emotionless. The black in her eyes resembled the hole of a well that was both mysterious and dangerous; you never knew where its bottom was.

"I'll make you some toast." The boy insisted making something for her because he knew that he had never been so physically weak when he was grieving over the loss of her grandmother. He didn't want to drink anything, plus he never had any hunger signals, but his mother knew better than to watch him starve. He didn't want history to repeat itself.

Yena didn't protest, neither did she smile hearing his offer. She was merely there, breathing and walking. There was no emotion written on her face, there were no sparkles or no fire in her eyes, there wasn't any twitch of her lips or motivation in her movies. She was floating in between life and death and it hurt Yukhei to see her in such condition. He never knew that she could be so lifeless.

The morning was spent quietly. The boy made her toast as he had promised and watched her while she forced everything down. He could tell that she really didn't want to eat but he couldn't let her lose herself amidst the pain. She would cause more harm to herself than the loss of her mother should ever do.

"You don't need to do this for me," Yena blurted out quietly as she watched him wash the dishes after finishing breakfast together. Yukhei did it without giving it a second thought because she could make use of any help and he knew that. Oh, he knew that too well!

"But I want to," he reasoned gently, not wanting to spike an argument with her. His eyes scanned the expression on her face which was something between resignation and skepsis. Yena was always one who preferred to deal with her problems on her own, if she even wanted to deal with them in the first place. She had a hard time admitting that she needed help because that's what she learned from her mother; that her emotions weren't valid, and her problems were nothing compared to the ones others had. It seemed that this mind-set of hers accompanied her until this day. Or she merely doubted that he didn't have any intention helping her. It wouldn't come as a surprise since she was vulnerable, and they haven’t had a meaningful conversation for approximately two years.

"Why?" Yena inquired almost like a plea, the tone of her voice scaring him. Just as he was about to answer her, she continued. "I don't need your pity."

The words felt like a stab in Yukhei's heart. The accusing edge of her words hurt him more than that dreaded confession years ago. The thought that he would pity her because she was fragile and needed help after losing her mother made him sick to the core. He would never ever take advantage of her situation, let alone humiliate her or fake the intention behind his moves. Her expecting such horrible things showed just how doubtful she must have turned during the years. Trust was hard to earn, but it was even harder after losing it once.

Yukhei finished washing the dishes and after cleaning his hands in a cloth, he turned to face the girl who was standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest defensively, eyes searching for his.

"I don't pity you, Yena. If you don't let me be here as your childhood best friend who wants to help you despite everything that had happened between the two of us, let me be there for you as a human being who feels empathy towards you because he knows what it feels like to lose someone," he concluded with a heavy sigh, hoping that his words would leave the desired effect on her. He may not have been showing just how much she meant to him even if they weren't best friends anymore, he couldn't watch her fall apart. Not again. He once did that and the thought that he could slip through his fingers once again terrified him. He didn't want to let go and watch her fall by herself. Even if she fell down, he wanted to be there to help her get up. If she didn't let him, at least he wanted to see her get up on her own and support her from afar.

Yena didn't say a thing after his confession. She didn't need to. Yukhei was more adamant than ever and if she was still the sensible and emotionally intelligent girl she used to be, he knew that she wouldn't argue after he was finally honest with her. It was once difficult to voice out his feelings but this time it came easier than he thought. He hoped that one day she would open up, if not to him, then to someone whom she trusts.

With a bob of her head, she turned around to head to the bathroom, leaving a relieved and hopeful Yukhei behind. Even thought he was sickeningly worried for her and terrified that she would push him away in the future, he was thankful that she didn't do so far. It’s true that they drifted apart and they didn't talk a lot in the last two years but that didn't mean that they had to stay the same way forever. They had both changed but change wasn’t always a bad thing.

After that, it wasn’t a question whether Yukhei wanted to accompany her to the hospital to take care of the paperwork. Even though he wasn’t in her shoes when he lost his beloved grandmother, he assumed that she shouldn't go alone because anything could happen under the unfortunate circumstances. What if she breaks down while signing some papers? What if she has to see her mother's body to actually identify if the injured one was really Choi Jieun? They probably contacted Yena because they found something that belonged to her mother but that didn't mean it was absolutely sure that it was her. What if all she needs is a helping hand to get through hell, otherwise she would go crazy in that giant hospital? Yena hated hospitals anyway. She didn't hate a lot of things, but she hated hospitals. She had confessed that it was because of the fact that she didn't like to ask for help and injured ‒ let it be emotionally or mentally ‒ people were vulnerable, flabby and forceless. She never wanted to be like them.

Dr Seo was probably the best doctor they could have asked for. He and an assistant ‒ Kim Jungwoo ‒ were the only ones who were there when they dealt with the paperwork, both of them outstandingly patient and well-mannered. They explained everything in detail and answered her question with professionalism and care. Yukhei was right, Yena was supposed to identify the dead body but after almost fainting upon hearing the request, he volunteered to do it instead of her. The sight was close to unbearable even for him, it would have caused so much more harm to her. Other than that, he had to admit that the girl was stronger than he had expected after what had happened in the morning. Her hands were shaking only in the beginning, after a while she looked completely in control. She sat up nice and tall and stayed still no matter what was asked. Dr Seo even gave her a number of a psychologist specifically for cases like hers, but she quickly dismissed his help.

"Mr Wong, can I talk to you for a minute?" the doctor beckoned him after Jungwoo suggested taking a walk outside with Yena. At first, she seemed dumbfounded but gave in pretty quickly because her face was almost as white as the walls around them. Yukhei suspected that there must be something that Dr Seo would want to discuss with him and that's why the two went out without asking them.

His theory proved right when the doctor spoke up.

"Yes, sure." He took a step closer to the standing man who was only a bit taller than him. He took good care of Jieun's case, making sure that his words wouldn't hurt the girl, yet he could always get message across. Yukhei was grateful that professionals like Dr Seo and Mr Kim existed because you couldn't hear a lot of heart-warming hospital stories.

"Unfortunately, we can't rescue everyone who's as badly injured as Choi Jieun was but it's of utmost importance that we make sure that the relatives can cope with the loss. At this point, some relatives can turn to alcohol or self-harm as they feel guilty and responsible even though they may not have anything to do with the accidents. Some may develop depression, anxiety, eating disorders or other mental illnesses, so support is always well-needed during this time of their lives," he analogized seriously, his cautions leaving room for more explanation which came after a sigh of remorse. "Support from professionals can be crucial but support from loved ones is just as vital, if not more. That is why I would like to ask you, Mr Wong, to take care of her as much as possible and make sure that she uses healthy coping mechanism. She may not want to incorporate you in her everyday activities, but your presence is more than enough for her. She seemed more composed and calm today when you were here, so I would like to ask the same for the future as well. Be patient with her and don't let her push you away. She needs you even though she may not want to. Though it’s not your responsibility if something happens to her. You can’t recover instead of her, she has to do it herself. You can only be there to assist her. Don’t forget that."

Yukhei was taken aback by how Dr Seo handled the situation. He was professional, responsible yet as humanly caring as possible. The boy wanted nothing but the best for Yena who had suffered enough while she was young, growing up with an emotionally malfunctioning and manipulative mother, the household not being safe enough for her to stay there in the afternoons. Yukhei's mother cared for her as much as she deserved, and they sometimes even joked that she was practically Yukhei's mom's second child. No matter what, no one could replace the one who should have been the most important woman in her life or the first role model she had. The doctor was aware that the only relatives Yena had were her grandparents who lived not far from Seoul and who were supposed to meet arrive later in the afternoon.

"I will take care of her, Dr Seo. I will do anything in my power to keep her safe," Yukhei promised solemnly, his heart never aching for happiness more than it did now. His hazel eyes created little crescents illuminated by the dim light of the hospital lamps, the room in a slight fog of darkness due to the stormy weather from outside the window. As opposed to the lovely spring day the day before, that day consisted of nothing more than greyish skies crying and painting the ground with their crystal clear tears, the gentle breezes replaced by fervent wind, not to mention the flickering lighting and the sound of the thunder that accompanied the awful weather.

"Do not hesitate to call me if you need anything." The doctor handed him his card with his number written on it, his support reassuring Yukhei because he could reach out for a professional if anything happened to the girl, something that he wouldn't be able to solve on his own.

"Thank you, Dr Seo." The boy bowed politely, earning a supportive pat on his shoulder.

"Stay strong, Mr Wong. She'll need it." The doctor gave him one last weak smile before he opened the door for him and let him out of the room.

If anything, Yena came back from the walk more nervous than before but at least she got herself someone who made her talk and that was something that couldn't go unnoticed under the circumstances.

The pain was as excruciating as ever.

Yena didn’t even attempt to hide her tears. She was as fragile as a glass doll; one wrong move and she would end up in tiny little pieces. She still couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. Her mother was supposed to be in New York, drinking her second cocktail of the day and living the best life she could possibly have, so why was she in Seoul? Why did she need to come back, just to collide with a school bus and lose her life? Why, why, why?

She wanted to scream from a rooftop, listening to the echoes of her voice, the questions resonating back from street signs and office buildings, leaving nothing but a slight breeze behind. She wanted to get away from reality and fly away with the birds that flew high in the sky, carried by the wind, not caring about anything and everything. She wanted to throw away all the responsibilities and all the injustice that came with the procedure, watching contently as they hit the ground with a loud thud. She longed to be free as planets that had nothing to do but to revolve around each other, gravity not messing up with them, fate not screwing them over.

She wanted but she couldn’t. She was a human being and humans aren’t destined to have it easy.

The hardest was letting the world know about her mother’s loss. For instance, giving a call to her mother’s new boyfriend whom Yena didn’t even meet yet her mother must have loved him enough to leave everything – even her own daughter – behind and start a new life after Yena didn’t get accepted at Yale. Even though Choi Jieun made sure that everyone thought that it was a mistake on the American university’s part, in reality it wasn’t because of an administrative problem. It was because Yena performed poorly at the English interview with the professors from Yale. They said that she was good but not good enough to get into the university, the mother protesting that they need to get her in yet to no avail. Even Choi Jieun’s power was limited and she couldn’t corrupt them with her money.

After talking to that selfish bastard who didn’t even want to show up to the funeral – though at least she got to know that her mother was supposed to meet up with an old friend of hers and that’s why she flew back to Seoul –, calling the parents of Jieun should have been even more difficult. Thankfully, her grandparents were the ones who called Yena because they had previously seen the news and promised to get to Seoul as soon as possible – right after the day of the accident. She didn’t even need to say anything, her grandparents did the talking while she was sobbing silently at the other side of the phone, regretting all the times she avoided her grandparents because of her mother. Suddenly every single memory, every single mistake came back, and everything seemed to be chained to her mother, kept under her supervision like she was keeping criminals in her basement.

Yena could see it only now; the way her mother cornered her and didn’t let her go, how she created a rigid world around her full of unnecessary fibs and forced rules. Yena was nothing but a puppet to her mother. The sudden realization hit her hard and left her hanging; what was she supposed to do after not being controlled by anyone? She felt as if she had lost herself along her mother. She was nothing without her. Her identity was unknown and hidden. How was she supposed to breathe, think and act without all those rules that were a part of her; she breathed with them, they were almost like tattoos on her skin. She couldn’t get rid of them no matter how hard she wanted to rub off the ink. They were supposed to last forever.

Reality and dreams were no longer different; each day felt like a distant reality, the fine line between this world and that mysterious world that not even scientific evidences could back up wasn’t there. Everything was blurry and foggy. Whenever she woke up at the break of dawn, not being able to keep her eyes closed any longer without seeing that oh so familiar superior grin on her mother’s face covered by bruises and scarlet-red bloodspots, she couldn’t tell if she was still dreaming or it was already the reality. Her nightmares amalgamated with her everyday life that was nothing, but hours filled with nerve-wrecking anxiety and minutes spent with the constant mocking of deadly numbness that scratched her skin, making her question her own sanity. A whole new castle was made of guilt and self-hatred where she was kept as a prisoner, her mind being her own cage. She was her worst enemy.

The arrival of Yena’s grandparents helped to lift a bit of weight off her shoulders because they were so much better at dealing with the legal part of the whole process, assisting her whenever they could. They didn’t live far away from Seoul, it was only a one-hour ride from the capital, thus they could easily commute whenever they wanted ‒ the cons of having their own business. Even though they had to bury their own daughter, they still insisted on organizing the funeral themselves. The reason was simple; they didn’t want to leave it all to their twenty-year-old grandchildren who was traumatized her whole life by the lack of love and support by her own mother, always being a mere shadow of her true self, kept in the dark, kept within the rules. Yena nearly didn’t leave her room for days, the only time when she was out being when it was absolutely necessary for her; either because of her mother’s funeral or because she dragged herself to take a shower or eat with Yukhei who turned into a complete housewife while she was trying to pick up the pieces of her shattered self.

Even though she didn’t have the energy to show that she took notice of his antics, she was very well aware of the fact that Yukhei was trying his best to do everything that needed to be done. He changed her sheets frequently, took out the garbage, cooked at least two meals a day and always prepared some snacks and refreshments for her, washed the dishes and thoroughly cleaned the flat. Everything without sending him a death glare or yelling at him to move his and do some housework! On top of that, he didn’t want to force any conversation but he made sure that she was feeling relatively okay under the circumstances and she had everything she needed. If it weren’t for his constant support, Yena would have been a complete mess. Yukhei was also the only reason her grandparents dared to leave her in Seoul and retreat to their own house, grieving in their own way.

The funeral was held two weeks after the accident. The fact that the only people who were there during the ceremony was her, her grandparents, Yukhei and the clergyman didn’t help either. Everything was so quiet, deadly quiet and no sobs could be heard. She couldn’t cry anymore. What she felt was complete and utter rage and confusion. She wanted to say her mother deserved to die but even the thought made her feel guilty. Did she really have the right to say such things about her mother?

No matter how hard she protested that Yukhei didn’t need to come, he didn’t listen to her. Yet, after he helped her through her first panic attack the morning of the funeral, she didn’t have the heart to stop him anymore.

At first, Yena didn’t know it was a panic attack. Probably no one knows the first time it happens. All she could feel was a lack of control and a feeling of being stuck. An alarm went off in her head and warned her that there was no escape out of her room while it was getting smaller and smaller. Her heart was hammering rapidly, her breath caught in and her cheeks flashed. You need to get out, get out, get out, the voice in her head told her yet her legs felt numb. She felt detached and disconnected. All she could think about was the fact that there was no exit. Her breathing became ragged and heavy. She was sweating and shaking like crazy, the first drops of sweat already streaming down her face. Was she having a heart attack? Was she going to die?

Yena didn’t hear the knock on her door. She was holding onto the edge of her bed, sitting on the blankets, staring at the white walls in front of her. She didn’t look away when Yukhei came in, only when the boy started talking to her.

“Are you okay, Yena? Can you hear me? Does it hurt somewhere?” He rushed to the girl, crouching down to be at eye-level with her. The sheer panic and horror in her eyes painted the black of her orbs a shade darker.

“I-I...” she mumbled, her words tangled as she wanted to speak. Her tongue felt heavy, yet she knew that she was able to speak. The anxiety that was building up inside her was the reason she became almost mute.

“It’s okay, Yena. Just look at me! You’re not in danger. You are safe, and you’ll be safe. There’s nothing that can hurt you,” Yukhei spoke gently, the deep baritone of his voice sending shivers down her spine. She needed to get out, she needed to find a way out. She couldn’t stay there and listen to Yukhei. “Please, look at me!” The boy practically begged but when he noticed that the girl wouldn’t move, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her, so that she would face him.

The look in her eyes made him speechless for a moment. He realized that she was having a panic attack right when she looked at him for the first time but seeing that fear on her face once again made his heart churn with worry.

If it weren’t for Yukhei’s mother and the way she taught him how to handle panic attacks when he was younger, he wouldn’t have been able to help Yena. However, something that once felt like a nuisance to him seemed life-changing now. He never thought that the panic attacks he had ever since he was a senior would benefit him in anyone. Fate had its own way to make things right.

“Okay, now close your eyes and breathe with me! Breathe in through your nose and breathe out through your mouth,” he instructed, trying to sound as calm and confident as possible. He was familiar with the turmoil that she was probably experiencing and knew that she needed someone stable and real. “You can do this, Yena, okay? You can do this! Just try it with me!” he asked gently, his hands not moving an inch, holding affectionately to her shoulders. She needed to feel his touch, she needed to feel that she was connected to something real.

Tears began to prick Yena’s eyes; her lips were quivering as she tried her best not to show any sign of weakness. However, considering that she felt as if the whole world was crumbling down on her, it was difficult not to feel alarmed.

“I-I can’t…” She cried out as her breath didn’t become more stable, if anything it became even more ragged. The crazily loud sound of her heart beating numbed every other sound that she was supposed to hear, her world was slowly shifting into something dream-like. Only Yukhei’s firm and low voice were able to navigate her through the maze of the unknown between the world that the panic attack created and the one that she actually lived in.

“It’s okay, Yena. You’re going to be fine. We’ll find a way out together.” He shushed her, his hands wiping away the first tears that were sliding down her pale cheeks. Despite the fact that it took everything in him not to start panicking at the sight of the frightened girl, he was determined to help her find her way out of the attack. “Then, look at… look at that clock on the wall! What do you see about it?” He pointed at the ticking clock on the wall that might as well have been a good distraction for her.

The first thing Yukhei learned from his mother after his first panic attack was a breathing exercise. After that, he learned even more because sometimes that some old breathing technique didn’t work. The boy was thankful that his mother was a therapist because she knew how to treat sudden attacks like this and taught him coping mechanisms both to prevent and to overcome such hardships. He didn’t usually need distractions, but he knew that making the sufferer talk and asking questions about an object in the room was a good way to get them back to reality. He hoped that it would work on Yena too.

“It’s…” she stuttered as she wanted to see through her pearl-like tears. It was harder than she had thought, therefore she was extremely grateful that Yukhei helped her out.

“Is it round?”

“Yes.” She nodded fervently, her hands still shaking, her body still trembling. She was like an autumn leaf falling from the trees; steadily and gracefully falling and falling until she hit the ground. This time, Yukhei was willing to be there to pick her up and teach her how to fly again.

“How about the colour? Is it dark or light?” he inquired patiently without any sign of compulsion in his voice.

“Dark,” she answered almost immediately, her mind finding a crack between the reality and the attack she was trapped in, taking the opportunity to find the escape. She was surprised by the fact how weak she sounded yet she continued on. “It’s black,” she specified, her voice no more than a mumbling. It was more than enough for Yukhei to keep asking her, not letting go of her when she was so close to keeping her panic at bay.

“Do you see another colour?”

“It’s… it’s brown too.” Yena squinted her eyes, her orbs searching for the exact details of the clock, the tears drying up as there were no more tears left to cry.

“Can you hear it ticking?” he asked, purposely leaving seconds of silence between her precious answer and his next question to which the girl nodded in agreement.

“Yes.”

“What is it like?”

Yena felt the panic leaving her side but it was still there for a little longer. She tried to concentrate on the clock’s features as much as possible, repeating Yukhei’s questions and her own answers in her head like they were on replay, played by an old cassette player again and again. Then, she tried to focus on the sensation of the clock’s sound; it was smooth and uninterrupted.

“Tick…tock…tick…tock…” She mimicked the ticking, her voice barely a whisper. She continued listening to the sound and repeating the words until she felt as if it was a lullaby. A lullaby that Yukhei sang to her when they were young; one that pacified her wildly beating heart and put her mind at ease.

Minutes of silence followed their conversation. Yukhei witnessed as she was slowly awakening; Yena was coming back to reality, the panic attack subsiding as she regained full consciousness and awareness of her surroundings. Not until her onyx-black orbs found his worried ones, did he ask the question that had been on his mind ever since she stopped looking at the clock on the wall.

“Is it better now?”

It took a moment or so before Yena found the courage to speak up. At first, she merely bobbed her head. Then, after clearing , she managed to talk.

“Yes.” She gulped as she looked around herself like it was the first time she saw her room. Well, panic attacks do make you look at things and places in a whole new light. Uneasiness still settled in Yukhei’s stomach when he had to go through to the park where he had his first panic attack. “What did just happen? I thought that I was having a heart attack. How did you know how to help me?”

Yukhei was prepared for her question. He knew that she would ask what had happened because as scary as it sounds, you can never be fully responsible for your actions when your mind takes control over you. He was hesitating whether or not he should blurt it out straightforwardly or wait and start preparing her at first.

In the end, he was quite sure that it would be better if he was honest with her from the start. Like he should have been years ago.

“You had a panic attack,” he told her face-to-face, inwardly waiting for her incredulous protest but there was no sign of disbelief on her face. Her reaction couldn’t be detected, that’s why he decided to talk about his own experience with panic attacks. He knew that stigma could only be broken if stories were shared. Empathy bloomed in shared obstacles.

“I had panic attacks since I was a senior and mom knew some techniques because she learned about it as a therapist. Though I wasn’t sure what would work for you because deep breathing usually helps me,” he explained carefully, watching her every reaction because he wasn’t sure if it was too much or too little information for her. He even withdrew his hands from her shoulders because they were over the worst part and he didn’t know if further intimacy was necessary or it would do more harm than good.

Yena’s eyes widened but not out of fear; more like out of admiration. Though Yukhei couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. Maybe she was surprised? Felt sorry for him? What if she felt embarrassed of having to go through one with him by her side? He didn’t want her to blame herself or to feel as if she was a crazy monster who had sudden panic attacks – a feeling that he sure had when he had his first one. To dissolve her shame, he broke the silence that fell upon them.

“It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with you. Believe me, you aren’t going crazy. It can happen to anyone.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, not knowing how to comfort her. It suddenly dawned on him that this was probably the most they talked ever since the accident happened and even though it wasn’t because Yena initiated the conversation but because she had to talk to him to overcome her panic attack, he was glad. Glad because he could be there for her and she let him do so.

Before he could dwell on the thought any longer, the girl did the last thing he thought she would do. She looked at him for long seconds, her eyes full of unanswered questions and long-lost dreams, the darkness of her orbs deep like the Pacific Ocean. She was a riddle herself, one that he could never solve. As time went by, it was even harder to try and solve it.

“Thank you,” she confessed sternly without breaking the eye-contact, her lips quivering as she had said the words out loud.

Yukhei didn’t want to be there for her because he craved her forgiveness or because he wanted to hear her thank you. He wanted to be there for the most single reason a human can give; empathy. Everything starts with empathy. You can’t build love on trust, it’s not that easy. You need to start with the base and that base is empathy. Without it, there wouldn’t be trust, nor honesty and there wouldn’t be love either.

Those two words may not have been significant under other circumstances but right then and there, just before Choi Jieun’s funeral and after Yena’s first panic attack, they held more meaning than any other word could.

Yukhei had never considered himself the most caring person on Earth. Seeing her mother’s genuine love and overflowing affection for her family and his father’s patience and diligence that allowed the three of them to enjoy a prosperous life in a different county that was miles away from home, he felt like he was merely a tiny part of this giant world full of beautiful souls like his own parents.

Nevertheless, it didn’t keep him from reaching out to Yena, let alone help her get through the depth of the pain as much as he could and as much as his energy let him. He didn’t think that he was being chivalrous; as he had previously told her, he wanted to be there for her as a mere human being who knew how painful it was to lose a loved one. Choi Jieun wasn’t actually one whom her daughter loved dearly yet that fact still put a huge amount of weight on her shoulders. It even haunted her in her dreams, not letting her have a good night’s sleep.

It started a few days after Jieun’s funeral.

Yukhei just got back from the radio station, changed into his pyjamas after having a quick shower and was about to go to sleep when she heard a scream that broke the utter silence of the early hours of dawn. He immediately recognized the owner of the horrifying scream. Without giving much thought, he swiftly ran into Yena’s room, switching on the lights to see what might have scared her so much.

Instead of any visible evidence, the girl merely stared far ahead, her eyes focusing on nothing particular, except the last remains of a nightmare that was still clinging onto her and shaking her whole body. Her hair was the messiest he had ever seen, lost strains sticking to her temple. He was drenched in sweat, yet her body was still shaking like she was freezing cold.

Yukhei had no time to waste; he quickly closed the gap between them and sat down on the edge of Yena’s bed, embracing her without asking for her permission. He knew she would be too shaken up to even understand what he was saying, therefore he decided to provide a safe shelter for her and hugging her until she was ready to tell him what had happened.

“It’s okay, Yena. I’m here. It was just a nightmare,” he whispered huskily, his arms not letting go of the girl who was fidgeting anxiously in his embrace. She didn’t want to break out, but she looked like she was still fighting with that nightmare of hers. It must have been vivid if she was still under its effect.

“It felt so real,” Yena admitted shakily, her voice cracking as she made an attempt to gulp down her tears but to no avail. One single tear escaped and was about to slide down her rosy cheek when Yukhei carefully wiped it away.

Yena finally looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of sheer horror. She resembled a scared deer that was trying to escape from a predator. She looked like she had been running for her life, drops of sweat already forming on her forehead. Yukhei had never seen her so scared before. Not even when she just got to know the news of her mother’s death and not even when they went to the hospital to deal with the paperwork. Those examples were different degrees of her dismay. Now she seemed more like a broken doll that was abandoned on the filthy street in a dust and gunpowder filled alley. She was terrified of the world around her including Yukhei. She had never given him such a glance before. Like she didn’t know if he was real or another one of the creatures in her dream.

“I’m real, okay?” The boy tugged a lost strain of hair behind her ear, his move as gentle as humanly possible. The way he looked down at her, with that endless tenderness and warmth in his hazelnut-brown eyes, might have calmed her down as her shoulders slumped at ease and her breaths became more stable.

The cacophony of their brisk heartbeats created a somewhat chaotic yet oddly pertinent music, allowing both of them to get lost in their tangled thoughts and overflowing emotions. Words weren’t helpful at all. When Yukhei needed them the most, they abandoned him. What was he supposed to say?

To his amazement, without saying anything more, Yena opened up and confessed everything right away.

“I saw my mother. She was chasing me, running after me and there was this hill and I was running from her, but I also didn’t want to jump off the hill. However, I couldn’t do anything else. When I fell down, she was already waiting for me to get up and grabbed my wrist. She said that I wasn’t grateful for her support and I was the one who killed her. Then, she stepped closer and she looked like she was about to strangle me and…” she just talked and talked until she was out of breath and her lungs screamed for oxygen. Her chest was rising up and down hastily, her orbs looking for evidence that she was already in the real world and her nightmare was long gone.

Yukhei felt her shaking even more in his embrace and he couldn’t do anything but to hold her tight, tighter than ever before. Even though he might have looked ridiculously big compared to her petite frame, they fit perfectly under the circumstances. He was like a pillow that she could hold onto and after letting everything out and not seeing any kind of pity in Yukhei’s eyes, her arms slowly found their way around his chest.

Yena hugged him back.

Something that hadn’t happened for years still felt familiar and heartwarming in that moment.

“You didn’t kill her. You’ve done nothing wrong. You shouldn’t blame yourself.” He patted her back, his reassuring words making her doubt herself even more.

“I can’t help but to feel that she was right. I-I just…” She shook her head, trying to fight her own self and the other one her mother created for her. Yukhei couldn’t have imagined what she was going through; fighting not only with the memory of her mother but also with her own mind that was poisoned by her mother. “I hate myself. I hate her. Why can’t she just let me live once?” She shrieked as she burst into searing tears, soaking yet another shirt of his. Her crying wasn’t anything close to beautiful. Her crying was real and raw. The kind that pierces through your ears and churns your heart. The kind that comes from pain that you would never want to experience. The kind that bleeds out right in front of you.

Yukhei didn’t find the right words to say. Nothing seemed right, nothing seemed wrong. There were too many words he could have said yet there weren’t enough to express how much she deserved. In fact, Yena deserved so much more than her mother would have let her see. It was already a curse that she had a parent like Choi Jieun, it was even worse that the memory of her mother interfered with her dreams too.

Instead of saying a single word, he let her cry her eyes out and stain his shirt with her pearl-like tears. He let her tug onto the hem of his shirt like she tugged onto the sole reason she didn’t give up. He let her bury her face into the crane of his neck, dozing off against his shoulders and not letting him go until they woke up the next morning.

After that particular night, this was the way they fell asleep. Yena could never close her eyes without having a nightmare until Yukhei got home from work and let her fall asleep against his shoulders. The boy didn’t exactly know what helped her – his touch, his presence or his understanding – but he was willing to spend the rest of his nights like that if he knew that Yena could sleep safe and sound with him by her side.

The case of the nightmare prompted Yena to seek professional help. She knew that she couldn’t deal with the guilt alone and since that evil voice in her head was louder and more demanding than ever, it was time to do something about it. She couldn’t expect Yukhei to be there for her all the time, but she wasn’t strong enough to face the world alone. Fortunately, the boy helped her to slowly pick herself up and let her see that she could count on people, not only her grandparents who always gave her a call at night to check if she was doing okay but Yukhei too.

So when Yena asked Yukhei one morning if his mother knew any suitable psychologist for her, the boy was truly dumbfounded ‒ in a good way. He could only assume how much courage she needed to gather to admit that she needed assistance. He remembered how quickly she dismissed Dr Seo when he gave her a number of a psychologist, thus he was more than glad to ask around for professionals that could help her. Yukhei called both her mother and Dr Seo and they were so eager to help, their constant support warmed his heart.

In the end, Yena did go to a psychologist who helped her through the maze of her emotions and to fight back that evil voice in her head. Of course, she was the one who did most part of the work, but it was easier and easier as sessions went by, especially after the heaviest weight was lifted off her chest.

When the grand secret was out, she felt freer from her toxic thoughts than ever before. When asked how the news of her mother affected her during the first session, she froze on the spot. She remembered vividly what she thought of, but she was guilty to admit anything. Not until her psychologist purposely gave her a few more minutes to re-collect her thoughts, did she let everything out.

“I’ve thought – yes, finally, she can’t tell me what to do from now on. I was convinced that this is what she deserved but I regretted it right away. How can I say something like that about her? How can I hate her so much given that she provided me with everything? How can I be so cruel?”

Salty tears and unstoppable sobbing followed her heavy confession. The truth that she didn’t dare to tell had finally been told and with those words being said out loud, she started to set herself free. This time she didn’t cry for her mother, she cried for herself. She realized that she was the one who had to get back up and she was the one who needed to be put first, not the lasting memory of her mother. Therapy also allowed her to deal with her panic attacks that were less and less frequent as time went by.

Slowly and steadily, she started to get rid of the chains that kept her locked – mostly around her heart. She felt like she could breathe again. Not all days were good days though. Some days she was so disgusted with herself that she spent the whole day in her room, not willing to move out and not willing to speak to anyone. On the other hand, some days were particularly good. Yukhei could see her smile again – that genuine smile of hers that made the sunflowers bloom and the moon shine through the darkness. He could hear her laugh again that reminded him of summer nights spent stargazing and listening to the sound of crickets. More often than not, shades of pink tinted her cheeks, let it be out of enjoyment, excitement or surprise. Her appetite also returned, and she was more than thankful for Yukhei’s meals, enjoying every bite of the food he made even if it was totally inedible.

Yukhei didn’t always see the old Yena in her; sometimes there was a new kind of Yena that was unlike anything he had ever seen before. She was reborn after all. After a period of going through identity confusion, she slowly started to let him see more of her. She didn’t cover when she was laughing, she wasn’t afraid to or to playfully squish his cheeks. She was experimenting with words, activities and skinship. It was as if she saw and experienced everything for the first time.

It wasn’t easy of course. Neither on Yukhei, nor on Yena. She suffered so much, and her heart ached so much, sometimes it seemed unbearable. Yet, she had people by her side and a determination to start loving and accepting herself – whoever the real Yena would be. It wasn’t a steady, nor an easy process. It was a progress.

Her grandparents were always there when she needed them, small wonder she spent the summer with them after she couldn’t continue her studies because she didn’t have the will-power to attend her classes. Her grandparents dealt with the paperwork while she was already looking forward to drop Law and study creative writing instead – a dream of hers that wasn’t so out of reach anymore. Her psychologist supported her and helped her make a difference between her own voice and that evil voice in her head – the voice her mother created. She learned so much about herself and the relationship she had with her parent. She could finally see that her mother wasn’t good, nor kind. She was manipulative and played with her like she was a mere doll. She made her believe that she wasn’t worthy of love and that only her academic performance mattered.

The realization hit her hard. Her mind was so foggy under the influence of Choi Jieun, her words and constant reprimanding making her believe Jieun more and more. He couldn’t understand how she couldn’t have seen it before, but she was glad that she did now.

Spring turned into summer that turned into winter and by the time she realized how fast time flew by, spring was already knocking on their door. Light chased the icy and heartless darkness away and cheerful sounds of kids playing outside and birds chirping on trees filled the cold and empty streets.

This was the first spring she could enjoy wholeheartedly and also the first one since her mother’s death. Last year, she hadn’t seen anything from the outside world, she was almost always in her room. Now, she was still attending therapy because her heart wasn’t always at ease, but she was definitely doing better than ever. The fact that she studied what she wanted was boosting her confidence and made her happier than ever. Her grandparents frequently visited her or she visited them and they did all sorts of things together from going hiking to watching a movie in the cinema. They had so much to make up for! Yukhei gladly joined them if he was invited and he was always invited considering that Yena’s grandmother literally babied the boy and adored him in every single way.

As for Yukhei, he wasn’t a newbie anymore at his radio station and his show proved to be a real success, so to help him gain even more listeners, he didn’t have to work the night shift. His show was now from 4PM to 6PM, so whenever people finished work, they could tune into his show and listen to his deep, husky voice. Yena loved listening to him and couldn’t help a smile spreading across her lips whenever she heard him. His new working hours allowed them to spend the nights together, usually spent with cooking dinner, watching TV shows snuggled up on their couch, having random dance battles, reading extracts to each other from the books they were currently reading, doing all sorts of childish things such as making balloon bunnies or playing children’s games or merely talking over a bowl of ramyeon.

Life was lived to the fullest ever since Yena began her self-exploration journey and started living the life she wanted to live, not the one others wanted her to live. One year was a long time yet a short time if we look at it that way. She had become stronger, more adamant and more mature. She learned about trust, honesty and love from Yukhei while Yukhei learned about forgiveness, self-love and strength from her. She may had been a weak little seed yearning to live the following day when they drifted apart but now she was a beautiful flower in full blossom.

That day, they agreed on meeting after one of Yena’s classes in a park where they could watch the cherry blossoms fall. It was a delighting yet saddening sight at the same time. There’s always this ambivalent feeling when you have to say goodbye to something in order to greet something new. She didn’t know why but she was particularly joyful that day. She wanted to see the blossoms that were falling like fresh, crunchy snowflakes onto the ground, painting the grass light pink. She also wanted to see Yukhei and tell him about the essay she had submitted and earned the best possible score.

When Yukhei saw her standing under the constantly falling petals, his lips immediately curled into a wide grin. She was radiant and seeing her being so full of life was enough for him to feel at ease. Then, listening to her chatting about her day made his grin even wider. He firmly believed that life always finds a way to make things right and even though years had to go by for them to find each other, they surely did find each other.

“You remember what you told me when we were young?” Yena tilted her head to get a better look at Yukhei as they were sitting on a bench, mesmerized by the beauty of nature around them.

“That I don’t understand why I’m so insanely handsome?” Yukhei joked, his answer making her chuckle.

“It’s not what I was thinking of but yes you told me that too.” She nodded with a nostalgic smile, recalling the oh so lovely memories. Things might not have worked out for them years ago, but she was sure there was a reason for that. However, she didn’t like to ponder about the past. “To be yourself is to be courageous. To love someone is to be bold,” she whispered quietly, the words lingering on her tongue tasting like bittersweet memories and unavoidable hardships. Young Yukhei may have been a childish and goofy boy but he sure had a way with words.

Hearing his own words from made him realize that Yena didn’t forget anything that had happened between the two of them. She remembered so many things including the ones he didn’t even remember yet that was what made their relationship real.

“Do you agree with that?” He cleared his throat, nervously scratching the back of his neck in fear of a possible disagreement. His heart was beating uncharacteristically rapidly, and a drop of sweat was forming on his forehead. Why was he so nervous out of the blue?

“I do.” Yena gave her one of her trademark smiles that made birds sing and stars shine in the ocean of the galaxy, her onyx-black orbs holding the past, the present and the future in them.

And finally I’m not afraid to be bold for you. She thought as she reached for his hand and intertwined their fingers, watching as Yukhei’s ears turned red. His smile was beyond everything she needed in that moment.