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Wistfulness

“Where are you going?”

Jonghui looks up, eyes wide. She has a large hat on her head and it shadows her face, and she’s carrying a backpack. In her hand, she has her phone (there’s a long story behind phones and Baekhyun, but he decides to stay away from them because he can’t quite figure them out and it’s very frustrating). Baekhyun glances outside the window, where the sun shines brightly over a crystal blue sky. The weather is very nice today, apparently, which is a rare phenomenon. It’s mid-July, and outside is hot.

“You’re also wearing all black,” Baekhyun continues to observe, scanning Jonghui again. She has on a black dress shirt and black leggings and her shoes are also black. The only thing that isn’t black is her hat. “You’re going to be very hot if you go outside.”

Jinae glances down at her attire. “I know.”

“So why are you wearing black?”

“I’m going to visit my mom’s grave,” she says, “So I thought that I should wear black.”

Her words actually filter properly through his mind a little while later, but it’s too late and he’s already spoken. “But it’s not a funeral you’re attending.”

Jonghui pales a bit. “I know,” she says quietly, “But I thought—”

“Your mother passed away?” Baekhyun blurts out, reprioritizing his questions.

Jonghui blinks at him. There’s a long moment of silence, and then she finally nods slowly. “Yeah.”

Baekhyun bites his lip, unsure of what to say. She hasn’t mentioned much of her family before apart from her father, but that was at least two months ago and Jonghui had looked extremely uncomfortable about the topic and she’d lead the conversation another direction as soon as she glanced on it. She didn’t mention much about her mother, but Baekhyun had assumed that it was because there wasn’t much to say anyways. The only thing she’d said was, “My mom and Jongdae were always there when I grew up.”

So it must’ve been somewhat recent. All of a sudden, Baekhyun feels bad. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, though he genuinely does mean it. “I… I couldn’t imagine. I’m sorry.”

Jonghui presses her lips together. She doesn’t meet his gaze, but after a moment, she asks, “Then do you want to come with me?”

Baekhyun’s head snaps upwards, unsure if he heard her right. “Huh?”

“Do you want to go with me?” Jonghui repeats, “You haven’t been outside for a while, and… and I think it’d be nice to have company sometimes. And the weather’s very nice too.”

He eyes Jonghui. Despite the confidence in her voice, she’s looking at everywhere in the room but his eyes and her hands are tapping against her legs. Baekhyun briefly wonders if she knows that others can see her nervousness through the habit, which only becomes more and more obvious as time passes. Why did Jonghui invite him? Him, who’s not exactly the nicest person to her — why did she invite him to something so personal and… fragile like a deceased’s grave? He thinks of Jongdae’s sad look, the smile on Jonghui’s face that sometimes appears quite forced, and the way she avoids all touchy subjects. I’m sorry is such a useless phrase, as is pity a useless emotion. Once upon a time, Baekhyun would’ve avoided it like the plague — because it was so useless and human — but for some reason, he feels it now.

And if pity is useless, if the words I’m sorry are useless — what isn’t useless?

“I’ll go with you,” Baekhyun agrees, standing up from the couch.

What isn’t useless? He thinks of Jonghui’s finds running across the wound on his back, cleaning the blood. It’s okay, she would say.

Comfort isn’t useless. Healing isn’t useless.

“But Jonghui,” Baekhyun says after a pause, glancing at the all-black outfit. “I don’t think it would be disrespectful or anything if you dressed for the weather, right?”

***

Jonghui agrees to changing her outfit, and she comes back out in five minutes wearing a greenish summer dress instead. It matches much better with the white hat, and her hair, which was pulled to braids down the side, stands out better against the light green material.

“Better?” she asks him.

Baekhyun nods. “It’s pretty.”

Jonghui glances away, and Baekhyun takes note of his words. “The dress is pretty,” he corrects. “I was talking about the dress. The color is very nice. I like green.” He gives her a chagrin smile, though it turns out to look more like a wince. “So… where are we going first?”

She hands him something, and Baekhyun takes the bus pass. “I’m going to go buy her flowers first.”

Baekhyun frowns. He knows that giving flowers to the dead are a tradition, but he’s never done it before and the thought is slightly overwhelming if he thinks of it. “Are you sure you want me to come?” he asks her, “I mean… this is for your mom, right?”

Jonghui opens the front door, keys dangling in her hand. “I’m sure,” she says firmly, “Because you’re my friend and I trust you and I believe that I should bring you with me this time. Think of it as…” she trails off. “Well…”

Baekhyun lingers inside for a while before following her, waiting for her words to sink in. They replay on his mind for a very long while, before Jonghui turns around and asks him when he’s going to leave. He follows her out the door, mind still whirling with too many unidentified emotions (or perhaps he’s just not willing to identify them).  

They travel in silence for the rest of the way, sitting in silence side-by-side on the bus. It’s hot outside and the sun beats down on him through the vehicle window, but Baekhyun doesn’t quite mind because there’s currently air conditioning on the bus. Jonghui has leaned her head against her window, and her eyes are closed, the slight wind ruffling the stray strands of hair. Unconsciously, Baekhyun traces the outline of her face, though he rips his gaze to the outside when she moves.

After around twenty minutes, they get off. There’s the faintest hint of a breeze in the air, though it doesn’t offer much against the scorching sun and Baekhyun feels uncomfortably hot. He glances at Jonghui, who’s face is basically hidden under her giant sunhat. Now that he looks at closely, there’s an equally white ribbon tied around it, ending in a bow. Jonghui peeks up at him. “Are you hot? Do you want a hat too?”

Baekhyun feigns nonchalance, even though he does feel hot. “It’s not that bad.”

Jonghui squints at him. “Are you sure you don’t want a cap?”

“No, I said I’m going to be fi—”

“You might get sunburned on a day like this, though.”

Baekhyun can feel himself pale. “You can?”

She nods.

Baekhyun chooses his next words carefully. “Then I’ll get a hat, I guess.”

Jonghui lets out a slight laugh, then points a finger at one of the stores nearby. Baekhyun follows her finger to the storefront, where Sung’s Bouquets and Flowers is written. He can see bushes of flowers through the display window, though there’s not much more that he can see inside. It doesn’t look very fancy, and the light blue paint is peeling in places. He’s not sure why Jonghui has come to this store.

“It’s close to the graveyard my mom’s in,” she explains, “It’s walking distance. I’ll treat you to a cold drink after, and see if we can buy you a baseball cap in a store nearby.”

Baekhyun perks up at the cold drink, but it’s all forgotten when he enters the flower shop with Jonghui.

It smells n