❀   The next day came, and Myungsoo was unconsciously brought back to the same pebble path he left off at. Hoping to see the young mistress who lived at the shrine again, he succumbed to his thoughts under the shade of the same tree just across from the main gate. Just as he was about to give up, a figure made her way out onto the veranda. It was Kumiko.

Her back was to him this time, and as time ticked away, Myungsoo felt himself easing more and more into the background. He felt a slight foreshadowing of déjà vu as Kumiko headed for the same open space in front of the paper screen doors, but was betrayed by his hunch when she sat on the wooden bench in front of the beautiful Somei Yoshino cherry blossom tree instead. The scenario today was different–she no longer looked as tired as she did the day before, and she had a basket of paper cranes cradled in her arms.

Drawn to the gates in no more than a second, Myungsoo stood there, feet glued to the lawn with his camera still hanging from his neck. He tried to capture her attention with his trespassing, but she didn’t seem to notice him. Quickly shifting weight onto his legs, he let the wind guide him, and quietly he made his way to her. Myungsoo didn’t mean to frighten her or anything; he just thought maybe a hello would be nice. After all, she had been the only thing he could think about since their unexpected meeting yesterday. Her eyes didn’t leave the cherry blossom tree until Myungsoo had tapped her on the shoulder, though lightly, as though he was afraid any stronger and it would have broken her.

As she turned around, Myungsoo ran over the same calm yet mournful features of the girl in front of him. Consuming his thoughts as he raised his camera to show her, who was surprisingly not at the least bit alarmed by his presence, he managed to choke something up in choppy Japanese, which he has been learning for some time now.

“Is it okay if I- Uh… take a look around here?”

She stood slowly, eyes unable to move from the stranger. Never had Kumiko had such an interesting visitor at the shrine before, let alone experience the feeling of having such a handsome male standing before her. Not leaking a single sound, she bowed, and then nodded. Kumiko watched as the boy tapped on his camera nervously. They both felt the heat and silence become heavy, and Myungsoo thought the summer air must have definitely unleashed its utmost toll upon them during that time frame.

Some time had passed and he was still standing awkwardly in front of her. Still, she hadn’t spoken, and worse, her eyes were afraid to meet his now.

Just tell her you want to take a photo of her, dammit.

“So… you live here with that ahjumma inside there?” Myungsoo finally asked, gaze trailing to the paper screen doors behind the veranda in hopes of breaking the tension. It worked. He was squinting his eyes against the sunlight peeping over the shrine house rooftop so hard that he could barely see the girl who was by his side anymore.

Returning his attention back to her just in time to catch Kumiko nodding again, he heard her voice for the first time. Like he imagined, it was melodic and alluring–just the confusion in it kept it from reaching its full potential.

“Yeah, how did you know…”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you like that…! I’m not a stalker or anything! J- Just that, I saw you here yesterday,” Myungsoo turned around to find the tree he was hiding behind yesterday and pointed to it with his index finger. “… I was passing by and…” He was rubbing the nape of his neck nervously now, knowing how awkward the conversation between them had become. But to his surprise, the girl in front of him burst out into a giggle. Was it because his Japanese was off?

“I’m Kumiko,” she said, still holding her arm around the belt of her kimono to stop herself from laughing any harder in front of the guest.

Stifling another smile, she watched as Myungsoo continued to gawk at her, not believing she had just spoken in perfect, fluent Korean. “I’m Myungsoo…” Kumiko didn’t know how it happened either, and she felt immensely rude about it, but it had been a really long time since she had been able to speak and smile this comfortably with anyone.

She liked him already.

“C’mon, how about I give you the tour you wanted?”

❀   They left the front yard a while ago, and now the two of them were on the veranda with a whole tray of Japanese obento dishes out in front of them. Kumiko had not touched her share. Instead, Myungsoo caught her staring off into space– ah, correction, at the cherry blossom tree again.

“You… seem to love cherry blossom trees a lot,” Myungsoo said, trying to speak his best while stuffing down another bite of onigiri the ahjumma made for them.

“Oh.” His voice brought her back to herself, and immediately she knew she had been caught. Kumiko reached for a piece of sashimi with the wooden chopsticks intertwined in her fingers and placed it onto her tongue. She eased her hungry stomach before responding. “Sometimes, they’re all I have. I don’t ever get to see anything else.”

He forced down a gulp and stopped eating, watching as she swallowed hard on the bite. “What do you mean?”

Placing the chopsticks down now, Kumiko’s eyes grew cloudy. Myungsoo couldn’t see the colours on her, and that was what made her look even more miserable. He couldn’t possible imagine how pale she would have looked out in the sun to match a look like that on her face... Judging from her reaction, Myungsoo regretted the minute he asked.

Kumiko took a deep breath, and finally said it. “Actually, I’m very sick… so I would like to think that when my time comes, I’ll wither away like the cherry blossoms…”

Her mind drifted elsewhere.

Myungsoo was scared to hear the rest, though he kept a straight face. “Is that why you’re never allowed out?”

She nodded once, and again when he had asked if her misfortune was brought upon her since childhood. Myungsoo couldn’t believe it. It had been a while since he had met anyone so similar to him; with a disability cursed through their blood for no particular reason. No traumatic experience, no mistake, and born into a world a little more imperfect than everyone else’s. Was Kumiko just as resentful about being permanently ill as he was to being colour-blind?

Myungsoo fiddled with the camera in his hands as the silence embraced them, waiting to see her reaction, but when he received nothing, he decided to surprise her with his response.

“Like me. I can’t see colour.”

❀   Two weeks passed by unknowingly, and Myungsoo found himself at the shrine with Kumiko more and more frequently than anywhere else in Japan. He was leaving in two days, and something inside him just wanted to spend a little more time with her.

“Say, why are you folding all those paper cranes?”

She didn't look up at him. “Back then, it was because I was bored… But now, I sort of have a wish that I want to come true.”

Myungsoo didn’t ask her any further, understanding. If he were her, he would have probably done the same and wished for his illness to heal right away. He watched again as her slender fingers tucked another corner into a fold on the piece of patterned, craft paper.

“Teach me.”

At first she looked at him, a little bewildered by his unusual interactive behaviour, but a smile danced on her lips when she accepted the thought. Myungsoo’s sincerity shone through his constant attention, and Kumiko never felt so warm, so needed, in her life. Ever since she had been diagnosed with weak health, she hadn’t had anyone come visit or play with her. She didn’t even know what kind of disease it was, yet everyone in the neighbourhood was afraid it would be contagious. In the end, she was kicked out with her landlady ahjumma. Luckily, the shrines here sought nothing in return; instead, the expanse of the area with its handful of nature and fresh morning breezes provided them comfort.

As time ticked away, sunset came but the two continued to fold paper cranes into the night. Kumiko usually hated knowing she would have to sit through another long night–time passed extremely slowly in the proximities of the shrine. But today, she didn’t seem to mind. Today, it was the first time she wouldn’t be spending it alone.

Realising the shadows that have settled in on them, Myungsoo stopped folding and stared where the horizon was supposed to be. The sun was setting, and a splash of purple and orange fought to take over the sky, but Myungsoo could only be impressed by the deep hues of darkness and the multiple shades of grey and black that replaced colours he had never seen before. He was only interrupted when Kumiko lifted a finished paper crane to his side, a marker in her hand.

“Do you want to write one too?”

Myungsoo would have liked to, but somewhere deep down inside he knew he would feel bad taking away the one of her hard-earned wishes, so he declined her offer.

“Ani, that’s okay. Childish things like that don’t suit me.” He placed the paper crane he had just finished folding into the basket with the rest, eyes glancing over at the tally slip in the pile Kumiko had added earlier so she could keep count of how many they folded today. 81. He smiled, satisfied with his contribution to their efforts. Finally, he found something other than photography that he could be good at despite his disability.

Kumiko shrugged, not the least bothered by his decision–or if she was disappointed, she hadn’t allowed him to see it. With the marker still in her grasp, she moved her hand over the wing of the crane now. Although black and white, Myungsoo could still tell it was polka-dotted. Caressing it as softly as the whisper of the wind on their skin that night, Kumiko scribbled in her message, putting as much thought into it as she could. She was concentrating so intensely on getting her Korean characters right, and then so hyped up about hanging it up on the cherry blossom tree straight afterwards, that she didn’t even notice when Myungsoo had already slipped a paper crane from the basket into the sanctions of his pocket and secretly snapped a photograph of her.

❀   The sun seemed to rise earlier with each morning, and with the mere thought of that, Myungsoo despised the idea of departure already. One more day, and he would have to go back to Korea, go and probably never see Kumiko again until he could come back. Sulking at the unfairness of it all, he tried hard to think about something else.

Setting out a little earlier than usual, Myungsoo made sure to have one last trip through the city with his camera, and then arrived down the usual pebble path leading up to the shrine just in time to see Kumiko come out of her room to sweep the grounds. Seeing each other, they exchanged smiles. Having their morning walk around the shrine, they did their routine chat, and their share of laughter and stories.

Summer waned into autumn now, and the sun was beginning to feel chilly. Instead of seeing the sprinkled cherry blossom petals, the couple walked in the crunching of fallen leaves at their shoes against the pavement. Myungsoo’s mood dropped at the thought of not being able to speculate, or pretend to see anyway, the vibrant yellows and greens of summer anymore. But when he remembered that Kumiko was by his side, who was dressed in a knitted sweater today, he felt like nothing changed–he felt warmth through her all the same. Despite the season, he could almost even feel the colours.

Tracing back to the cherry blossom tree outside the shrine household at the end of their track, Myungsoo turned around to stop Kumiko in her weak footsteps. She looked so frail next to him. Reaching into his huge cloak pocket, he handed her a white envelope, stuffed full of the photographs he had taken on his trip. He had gotten them printed the morning before.

“For you.”

She accepted it gently, watching sceptically as the mountain of photographs began to spill out of the envelope into her tiny, cupped hands. “What’s this– Why?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow, and I thought you could have these… since you don’t get to go out much… and since I don’t get to see them in colour like you would be able to anyway…” Myungsoo scratched his head, not sure if the words he wanted to tell her had come out right. After hearing Kumiko tell him about her being forbidden to leave the shrine grounds, the idea just dawned on him.

And to his relief, the girl in front of him beamed. She pressed the scattered pile of his memories on her chest, just above her heart. “Thank you, Myungsoo. I’ll make sure to keep these safe.”

Arriving at the wooden bench beneath the tree full of hanging paper cranes, Myungsoo sat Kumiko down and stayed beside her as she took her time scanning through all the photos laid out before her. He watched as a familiar smile spread across her face, the one she showcased because she was happy, the one that had brought him light in his world full of darkness since the day he had met her, and he hoped so much for time to stand still. Over the weeks they have spent together, they had become so close, so comfortable with each other.

What started out as a mutual fancy had blossomed into love.

He was sure he had finally found his other half–he just didn’t know what to say or do to show her how much he had learned to care for her. Myungsoo felt scared now that once he was gone, Kumiko was going to have to face the dangers of life alone again. Slipping his hand into hers now, he intertwined their fingers and held them both into the sky. Together, they watched as the sunlight seeped in through the spaces.

He felt how cold her hand had become.

He didn’t ever want to let go.

“Kumiko?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll come back soon. I promise.”

She feigned a smile, pointing at the cherry blossom tree. Myungsoo remembered that Kumiko had once told him that flowers were the signal of spring in Japan, and that it was a season prettier than anywhere else in the world. “Then the next time you do come, make sure you don’t miss the blossoms again. Come in mid-April. The cherry blossom trees here will be beautiful.”

Myungsoo nodded. Kumiko never knew, but her words of mere suggestion were actually words he never forgot.

“And by then, you have to be all better.”

She picked up a stick at their feet with her free hand, unable to smile now, and randomly etched a few words into the soil. Even if she did die now, Kumiko felt she had no regrets. After having met Myungsoo, she felt like no matter where she went afterwards, she wouldn’t be alone and scared anymore… But she couldn’t let him know. Meeting the painful look in his colourless eyes, she spoke the words that she thought she would never be able to say.

“I’ll try.”

a/n: subscribe and comment, pleaseeuu? :3