Lee Hyuk stretched, his joints protesting.

It was the most convenient place for him to stay as he continued with his residency. The long hours left him scrambling every time he would go home, taking a bus about an hour (or even longer, if he was quite unfortunate that day) while lugging a suitcase that would fit at least a week’s worth of clothes. He did not simply crash at the call room; he lived in it, more so than his colleagues. It was very challenging for him to stay in his family house to save money.

Eventually, he had to sell. (He should have done it a long time ago. There was nothing tying him there.)

In the past few months, he had gained a few more hours of rest. He moved out of the call room, to the surprise of his colleagues. He would prefer to stay at home. The neighborhood was peaceful, and his neighbor who is living at the rooftop – Ji Eun Tak – had been very accommodating. After learning that he is a trauma resident at C—Hospital, she made it her mission to not let him get stuck in life.

It really helped that he loves watching dramas. (Whoever had beer or soju in their fridge would host the drama night.)

Park Kyung Hye caught them crying with Kim So Hyun in Moon Embracing the Sun one day, and his life got a bit noisier (and happier, if he dared to admit).

--

The most peculiar thing about his apartment is the collection of teas he had in one of his kitchen cabinets.

“I don’t like coffee,” he remarked, setting the ramen-filled tray in the coffee table.

“You must be the first doctor I met who doesn’t want coffee,” Eun Tak noted, slurping on her own bowl.

“Maybe he hasn’t tasted good coffee yet,” Kyung Hye surmised, picking the noodles with her chopsticks. “That’s just shameful. I am offended.”

Hyuk looked at her, a silent why hanging in the air.

“Unnie works at a coffee shop I frequent. That’s how we met,” Eun Tak offered. “You should drop by sometimes. I swear they fatten me up with everything they have.”

“Kim sajangnim is fair and pays well. She likes you a lot, and so does her brother.”

Eun Tak nudged on her side, and the soup on Kyung Hye’s bowl almost spilled. “I only met him once. It’s embarrassing enough that I bumped into him.”

“Just trust me on this,” Kyung Hye winked. Facing Hyuk, she added, “I expect you to visit soon.”

Hyuk bit his lip, nodding hesitatingly.

--

Sun Hee hummed, manicured nails tapping the notes on her sheet music.

Tutoring music to students had been very fulfilling. The success of the café is one thing, but being able to somehow contribute to a child’s life is something else. While she didn’t have the patience to deal with a raucous group of children (She considered being a teacher, but knew she would have snapped after a day), she could definitely handle a few of them. Her students, so far, had all been a delight to teach.

(Playing with them made her feel less lonely.)

Her afternoons would usually be occupied with her lessons, while her mornings and evenings were spent manning the café. Today, Kyung Hye was expertly decorating one of the cakes.

Someone feigned coughing from the counter. From her periphery, she saw Kyung Hye address the person.

“You’re here!” Kyung Hye greeted happily.

“You’d drag me by my neck if I don’t come. Eun Tak almost did,” The man huffed, his baritone voice being carried to her ears.

(If asked, Sun Hee would lie and tell that she got curious of the man because he heard Eun Tak’s name. In truth, it was the smoothness of his voice that reverberated within her.)

She poked her head to see him.

Sun Hee’s eyes were drawn to his lips. (She’d kill for those lips.)

“What teas do you have?” The man asked, eyes at the overhead menu. His pale skin and slightly mussed hair contrasted with his dark blue scrub suit.

Kyung Hee crossed her arms over her chest, “You have boxes of tea at home. Pick something else.”

The man scoffed, disbelief coloring his features, “Ya, who’s the customer between us?”

“Our iced americano tastes good,” Sun Hee interrupted their bantering.

His glance shifted to her.

He blinked once. Twice. Thrice. He blinked again, this time rapidly.

Sun Hee smiled at his distracted look, walking towards Kyung Hye’s side. “Is he your friend?”

Kyung Hye looked at her friend, then to her boss. She nodded.

“His order’s on the house,” Sun Hee declared, patting Kyung Hye’s shoulder before turning back.

She heard him mumble ‘Iced Americano’ as she returned to the back room.

(In truth, she couldn’t control the smile threatening to overcome her face.)

--

The Elder’s House is a privately-owned art museum a bus ride away from the city. The building – designed akin to a hanok – is framed in seemingly evergreen trees and fully-bloomed flowers. For as long as anyone could remember, the old house, which has been renovated over the years, had always been there. Both locals and visitors take time to capture the beautiful image it created amidst the changing seasons.

“Beautiful as always, Lee El,” the older man praised, gazing at the garden from the windows spanning the entire wall of the office.

“Beauty is my bread and butter, Chairman Yoo,” the woman in red replied, filling the tea cups. “I believe you have something of that sort for me.”

“I heard that you are holding a jewelry exhibit this month, and thought of adding a bit of our family history to it.” The man slid a suitcase on top of the table. Upon opening it, the woman caught site of a velvet jewelry case. The older man opened the case, handling it delicately.

Diamonds dotted the white gold metal that spun on itself, creating a lovely headpiece. Along with the thin crown is a jewelry set designed similarly. Lee El swallowed upon seeing the package.

A slender hand reached for the edges of the crown, but was pulled at the last minute. “Are you sure–“

“It was actually Shin’s decision,” the chairman explained.

The woman nodded in understanding, gazing at the pieces sadly. “His mother shone when she wore this.” She reached a hand to the chairman, sharing the heaviness that took over the man’s features. “Will my keeping of this give him peace?”

The man sighed, “We could only hope.”

--

Kim Shin walked listlessly, his steps echoing the barren halls of the museum’s second floor.

The decision to let another hold a piece of his mother’s memory was difficult to bear, but his trust lay on the owner of the museum. After all, she and his mother had been the closest of friends when the latter was still alive. He thought that she at least could appreciate the symbols of one of his mother’s happiest days, as she witnessed it herself.

That and all others that made his mother the woman she was.

(In truth, there are just a lot of remnants of his parents left by his side. If he could store them – compartmentalize them like he did in his mind – maybe the questions he had would be answered.)

As he reached the end of the hall, he noticed the slightly opened door of a seemingly empty room. He slipped inside in curiosity.

The light that streamed from the windows highlighted the lone artwork in the room.

The painting is unfinished, with a side of the canvas barren. Vertical gave life to a sea of greens against blue skies, with hints of blooming flowers dotting the landscape in white. He crouched, his face coming a few inches from the canvas, and closed his eyes.

(The painting made him feel like spring is just around the corner, even if autumn is about to loom above them.)

“I’m afraid that isn’t for sale,” a familiar voice called from the door.

Kim Shin stood gracefully, turning his back on the painting. With confident strides, he marched towards the woman.

“Ms. Lee,” he took her hand and kissed the smooth skin of its back.

“Always the charmer, Kim Shin,” the woman smiled back. “But you couldn’t charm your way into having that.” She motioned her head behind him.

“I’m not trying to. It’s unfinished,” Shin retorted.

Ms. Lee shook her head, hooking her arm on Kim Shin’s as they walked out of the room. “Even if it is, the work isn’t mine to give.”

“Then I’m dealing with the wrong person.”

“Perhaps you’d like to bargain with the right one?”

“My grandfather is waiting for me.”

“You could stay, if you wish to,” His grandfather said, appearing from Ms. Lee’s office. “I could have your car sent here.”

Shin looked back at the open door with longing.

“I will just ride the bus back.”

His grandfather nodded, reminding him of their dinner before walking away.

Kim Shin and Ms. Lee watched as the car brought the chairman away from The Elder House. When the car turned at the first corner, Kim Shin spoke, “Now, who should I talk to?”

--

Eun Tak prided herself to be a hard worker. She grew up watching her mother save every won she could to provide for both of them. It has always been challenging to raise a child, more so to raise one alone. At a young age, Eun Tak had learned to make every move count. If she could do something to relieve a bit of her mother’s worries, she would do so.

Her mother’s influence was reflected in her habits as an employee.

The jewelry exhibit on old Korean family pieces would be held in a week, and she was through setting the place and confirming with the participating families. It would be the first project she would be heading, and she was getting anxious by the minute.

Again and again, Ms. Lee would tell her that she would be with her every step of the way.

To be productive, in the meantime, Eun Tak painted.

It was a hobby she had always had. It was one of the few luxuries she allowed herself to have, simply because it let her get her thoughts together. At first, she sketched. She shied away from multimedia art and instead focused on freehand drawing. She drew people. She drew landscapes. When she could spare some time and money, she would paint.

Which led her to her current project.

The buckwheat field was reminiscent of an old place she and her mother would go to in the province, memories of the child she was breaking across the expanse of blooming plants. She wanted to capture the innocence of that child so she could feel it whenever the shadows threaten to call her.

A knock on the door broke through her thoughts.

Ms. Lee slipped her head through the crack. “Ji Eun Tak,” she called.

“Yes, Ms. Lee?”

The woman smiled, “I think I just found you your first patron.”

The door was pushed back, and Eun Tak’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Sun Hee’s orabeoni?”