“What would you do if I vanished for a long time?” Yixing asked suddenly, cleaning away the deflated leftovers birthday balloons - Haneul claimed she didn’t need any, but her mother insisted on treating her like a little girl. Haneul handed Yixing a broom, laughing. “What?” she asked. “Where would you go?”

Yixing began sweeping the confettis; it had been a lovely birthday party despite the fact Hayul and her mother began bickering about how the oldest daughter was wasting her life away partying every night and despite the absence of Haneul’s father. In a way, Yixing had stepped in and became he man of the house to a household that needed a figure of stability. They had all accepted him as if he had been part of the family, hence why he was never too far.

“It doesn’t matter, what do you think would happen to you?”

Haneul stopped and took a step to stand in front of him. He lifted his head to look at her. Long hair, pale face, rosy lips and cheeks and a serious frown, she was looking at him as if he had said a nonsense.

“I would die, that is what would happen to me,” she answered.

A smirk rose on his lips and he extended a hand to ruffle her hair. “Heaven, dying is not that easy”. Haneul smiled at the nickname and how good it felt to be affectionate with her childhood friend yet she still moved her head away and nagged at him for being so cheesy and gross.

Perhaps, as he said, dying wasn’t that easy...

Haneul found herself being picked up and thrown over Yixing’s shoulder as he laughed and carried her flailing body over to a recycling bin, planting her, feet first, in the very large blue box. “There, just stay here and stop interrupting me when I’m trying to clean.” Haneul tried to hit him but he quickly moved aside.

“Yixing, you aren’t funny. Let me out!” She ordered, trying to simultaneously swat him and lift herself out of the meter-high container which was already filled with wrapping paper and cardboard boxes.

Little did she know that this would be her last memory of Yixing. Three days later, he was gone. His whole family had moved out and Haneul had no way of contacting them again.

Perhaps, as he had said, dying wouldn’t be that easy, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying.

Chapter Two

Even the way he knocks on the door is so obnoxious, Haneul thinks while she ignores Yixing’s tries to get into her apartment. Her sister is under strict instructions to never let him in and, like a vampire or another unholy creature, he can’t come in unless invited. It doesn’t matter that it’s been a few days since he’s last been here. True to his word, he showed up every day, trying to get her to speak to him. But the only two words Haneul ever say to him are rude enough to make him leave. Although sometimes he does come back, even on the same day. He’s persistent, she will give him that. But she can be just as much as a hardhead. Maybe even more so than him.

To Haneul, it’s crazy to think she was once a lively and kind girl who only wanted one thing: to become a world renowned pianist. But since then, everything changed. Life is slipping through her fingers and Haneul can act however she wants, she can’t seem to catch it. What’s the point of being lively when life itself is pouring out of her body by the day. And what’s the point of being kind when mother nature like so many other people isn’t kind to her. In fact, she’s been er-punched so many times she has lost count. She was talented once. But now her shaky hands can’t even play a note right. At the same time she loves and hates music. That’s the reason why, after the doorbell broke, Hayul didn’t fix it; she knew the chimes music made Haneul extra cranky. Not that she wasn’t always like that anyway.

The knocks on the door seem to stop and Haneul feels relief wash over her once more. There, Yixing will leave and her life will be back to normal. He’s going to disappear once more and it’ll be like he never came back, as if the day he was there was all a dream... Or a nightmare, either one.

Yixing’s voice makes her jump a little bit and she frowns, ashamed of her reaction before remembering that from his side of the door, he can’t see her. “I’m leaving this here for you. Since you don’t wanna talk, maybe you can find this interesting. I’ll be back another time with more.”

Haneul never considered herself to be particularly curious, but she has to admit her interest is piqued by his words. Carefully, she makes her way to the apartment door and glances through the fisheye. Yixing is gone and on the mat in front of the door is a small pile of colorful envelopes. Haneul’s first instinct is to roll her eyes and lazily walk back to her room to go back to bed but she has to admit part of her wants to know what those envelopes contain. She hopes it’s Yixing apologizing a thousand time. She isn't expecting it, nor is she planning on accepting his apology, but she feels like she deserves it and he should have the decency to do so. Not that she considers him a decent human being anymore.

She opens the door slightly, and pokes her head out, looking around just in case Yixing is hiding somewhere ready to jump through the entrance and invade the privacy of her home. He is nowhere to be found, so Haneul bends down, grimacing at the pain that this simple action is causing her, and picks up the envelopes. She closes the door behind her, making sure she is locking it and goes back to her room, each step feeling a bit painful because of the involuntary muscle contractions. Sometimes it feels as if she is in a gym, working out and trying to lift something very heavy, except she is only doing everyday activities but her body is fighting against her. Some other times, though, it isn’t that bad and she can have one normal day without falling due to her worsening coordination or dropping something due to her shaking hands. Those are her good days. Today is about middle ground, she thinks, sitting at her desk with the envelopes.

She flips through the pile quickly, noticing that they are all addressed to her as her name is written as well as the rest of her postal information. They look ready to be sent, but Haneul knows that since he came to give them himself, they never came through the mail service. From the looks of it, she can’t tell if they are old or new, so she opens one. The sound of the paper being ripped is somewhat reminding her of her past Christmas Eves with her family when she would delicately open her presents making sure to keep the boxes intact while Hayul would just tear through everything. Oh how the roles have been reversed, now.

She pulls a letter. Except that she has no idea what it says, apart from the signature at the end. It says Yixing. But the rest is in a language she cannot read and she knows four. Couldn’t Yixing pick one she understands? What a little , she thinks before discarding this letter and opening a new enveloppe. It takes a few tries, but she finally finds one she can understand. She takes in the clear and graceful writing of Yixing, something she used to appreciate about him. She used to enjoy watching him practice calligraphy back at school. It read a bit like a journal entry, in which Yixing is describing what his new home is like and how he is eager to start med school. She is taken aback. Is that his way of gloating or something? There is no apology and she doesn’t understand the point of this letter. She tries reading the other letters. It looks like English but it’s not. Haneul is confused but also a bit annoyed. She isn’t about to get beaten by mer pieces of paper. She turns on her computer and find a translation website. Typing the first few words, she easily figure out the letters are written in French, an astonishing discovery knowing that she had no idea Yixing spoke French. What happened during the three years he was gone?

Lifting an inquisitive brow, Haneul pulls out a notebook and gets to translating. Languages have always been easy and fun for her and she always liked French. It reminds her of Paris, which she would have liked to see once before her death - it is on her bucket list. French also has that chic feeling that she can appreciate. She eagerly start to learn a few words as she translated them. When did Yixing get so much ahead of her when it comes to the things they said they would do together?

When Hayul comes back later that evening, her sister is actively typing and writing things down. Hayul’s mouth opens into a surprised expression and she quietly let her do as she pleases. She has never seen Haneul so immersed into something since she gave up playing piano. She can’t help but smile fondly at the determination she can feel into her sister’s action. There is a spark being discreetly fueled. The most amazing thing in Hayul’s eyes, however, is the fact that Haneul doesn’t seem to be in pain, even though the repetitive motion should trigger cramps and muscle contractions. Maybe what her mother told her is true and Haneul isn’t actually that advanced. Maybe she can get better. Hayul goes to bed that night with a smile floating on her face. Whatever Yixing is doing, it’s working.

The next day, when Haneul realizes Yixing isn’t going to show up, she justs lifts an inquiring eyebrow but blinks away her questions, choosing instead to keep translating the letters. It takes her the rest of the day to finish looking up each word, although some were repeated, but her translating job isn’t satisfactory enough to be able to make sense of Yixing’s sentences. She sets the letters aside for a moment, unsure if she even wants to keep trying to read them. For all she knows, maybe Yixing is mocking her and those were never intended to be read. She can’t understand what he has been up to. Does he have an underlying plan?

They used to be so close. She would be his best friend and he was her primary confident. He used to sing to her so she would fall asleep during lunch break, because he knew she had been having insomnia after her father’s death. He had the number one person who knew her the best. How could he think it would be okay to just disappear without a word?

Haneul presses her lips together and tries hard not to blink, because the moment she does, she will start to cry and she does not want that. Luckily, she is distracted by Hayul’s entrance after her long day of work.

“Did you expect a package?” The older sister asks.

“Maybe?” Haneul isn’t actually whether she was expecting anything.

The door of Haneul’s room is opened and her sister just pushes a box inside before closing it back. “It has your name on it,” Hayul says with a yawn. Hayul manages a library-café with her mother, an establishment that used to belong to her father and that they inherited. On most days, the library-café closes at 9pm and Hayul just comes back from work and goes straight to bed because she has to get up early the next day. Her life cycles are completely opposite of her sister, Haneul preferring to go to bed late and sleep in until unreasonable hours. Therefore, Haneul isn’t offended when her sister just goes straight to her room instead of spending some time with her. Not that Hayul would even want to spend time with her. She must be so tired of her by now.

Haneul opens the box to find some DVDs. Korean to Spanish, she reads on the covers. She is now the proud owner of volume one through four, for eight hours of pure fun… Immediately, Haneul’s eye start to twitch. Is this from Yixing? So this time he isn’t bothered to knock and he just leaves junk at their house expecting her to watch it? Well this isn’t going to work, she will not do as Yixing says. But then she finds the note at the bottom of the box.

“Heaven, the letters will explain why I left.”

This time again, Yixing wins and Haneul concedes. She sighs loudly, wondering why it is that he always ends up having his way and loads the first DVD in her computer. She figures this is all a plot to make it more complicated for her to read his confessions so she will have to work on it and therefore feel more analytical and less emotional. It must be his way to ensure she won’t be so angry. Well, he’s wrong. No matter what she reads or the way she read it, she will stay angry and will keep ignoring him. He messed up big time and she is entitled to never speaking to him again. Or at least hitting him a few more times.

She plops her earphones in and press play, taking a pen to correct her translation if needs arise, convince she will still hate Yixing at the end of the letters.

The end of the week is near when Haneul hears the familiar knocking of Yixing on her front door. Immediately, she opens the door, sitting in her wheelchair and holding the envelopes in her hand.

“We need to talk,” she simply states before grabbing her purse and rolling passed him in the corridor of the building. By the time Yixing realizes what happened, Haneul is already at the end of the hallway, turning the corner. He closes the door of their apartment that Haneul left open but not before quickly grabbing a pen from a vanity by the entrance. Taking and unfolding the paper from his back pocket, Yixing crosses the 8th element:  Learn a new language.

“That’s two,” he thinks before placing the pen and the list in his backpack and quickening his pace to catch up to Haneul by the elevator.