❀   For every day over the past two years, Myungsoo had not forgotten those days he spent with Kumiko. It was hard for him to forget someone who gave him so much to remember. He remembered especially the tears blurring his already impaired vision as he stepped onto the plane the night after that, and how much he cried when he found out that once he had arrived home, he was no longer in the same time zone as Kumiko, no longer breathing her air. He abandoned her when she needed a friend most. And when the news had reached him that Kumiko had died the winter after, caught in a deadly cold on top of her already failing health, he wondered why they called it heartbreak when it felt like all the bones in his body were broken, too.

Two years, and he was sorry he had not been back to pay their favourite place a visit earlier.

Taking in the reminiscent night air of the vicinity he grew to love so much, Myungsoo’s light steps took the better of him, and in less than the time expected he was already stopping in front of the expanse of the shrine grounds, his feet planted in the exact spot where he had first seen the girl in the photograph. It had been two years, and he was shocked by how much everything had changed. The swing wasn't there anymore. In fact, all that really remained of the old place were the notice board posts, the wooden bench in front of the cherry blossom tree, and the remaining stump of the cut-down tree itself. Someone must have had removed it after she left, and Myungsoo felt utterly disappointed that he hadn’t been able to protect what was most precious to Kumiko. He grimaced at the thought of their memories only being there to collect dust.

Tracing his finger over the cracks in the surface of the worn wooden bench now, Myungsoo let the familiar scenario of his recurrent vision over the past two years flash before him. It had been haunting him ever since Kumiko died. Myungsoo was alone in the middle of the shrine grounds–more alone than he had ever been before, albeit already being in a world so much darker and terrible than anyone else’s. He felt the weakness gnawing at his legs as he searched in his daydream the whole shrine for signs that maybe he had heard the news wrong, and that maybe the girl who was living here was still in the shrine somewhere, waiting for him…

But he got the same answer every time.

The stalls were all closed, and the ahjumma who once made onigiri and obentos for the two wasn’t here anymore. Red bands ran across the shrine noticeboards, and the gates were torn down, knocked completely out of their roots by a bulldozer or some massive force alike. The shrine felt even more deserted than before, not a soul to be seen, not a wind to be heard. Myungsoo scanned the veranda again, just in case, but no sign of anyone. No sign of colour.

No one was waiting for him.

Kumiko was gone.

Enduring the full impact of the of his nightmare now, Myungsoo closed his eyes against the motion of the night and listened as the tree leaves around him rustled slightly. In Japan, they said cherry blossoms meant it was spring, but right now, it was not spring for him. The few branches at the shrine grounds were withering, and the wind had died since–no flowers bloomed now, and no cherry blossom petals were visible for his feet to trace on the floor. He was back like she told him to be, like he promised, but she wasn’t here anymore. So Kumiko had really, truly, not waited for him.

Taking a seat on the bench with the photograph of Kumiko he had taken secretly two years ago back where he could see it, tears cascaded down his cheeks in hot streams. He remembered how weak her response had been when he asked for her to get better by the next time he visited, and at that time, Myungsoo knew that there was certainly no hope, but the last thing he did was give up on her. It was fate who tore them apart, and he couldn’t understand.

❀   Tears.

Along with the silence, they had become Myungsoo’s most frequent visitors lately. To avoid the pain of harbouring his unsought worries, he would take morning walks back at his hometown, and most of the time, they would do nothing to fix his injured heart. That was, until one day–that one day, things began to look bright again.

Back in Korea, there was a park near Myungsoo’s house blooming with cherry blossom trees which he had never paid attention to before. They weren't the same Somei Yoshino cherry blossom trees, and they definitely weren’t as beautiful, but they gave off an aura mystic and close enough to be them. Sinking himself into the warmth and the memories, Myungsoo slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled something out.

A paper crane.

That night on the plane when he was returning to Korea from Japan, he found that his name was scrawled on the same paper crane piece–yes, on the one he had sneaked into his pocket two years ago at the shrine. Myungsoo knew it had to be for him, because he recognised Kumiko’s handwriting. If he had known it was one of Kumiko’s collections though, he would have never taken it. What if it was an important wish?

It had been a few months now, and still, Myungsoo couldn’t bring himself to open it. Sitting on the bench at the park, he stared at it as nothingness encased him. He never felt the desire to see her wish, but now that he was under the cherry blossom tree, his curiosity got the better of him. So, retrieving her paper crane once more, Myungsoo opened it in up. Half afraid to read it and half looking forward to it, so he could at least get an idea of where to start if he wanted to help her fulfil her last wishes, Myungsoo took in the whole message in a single mouthful of breath.

'I wish Myungsoo can see the world in colour again, so that the next time he comes, he can see our cherry blossom tree bloom beautifully.'

Within the time span taken to read from the beginning of her sentence to the end, Myungsoo had already been touched by Kumiko’s wish. She had not wished for her own happiness at all–she had wished for his. Looking at it for the first time, he wondered if her messages on all the other paper crane pieces had been the same. Grief gripped his heart mercilessly. He contemplated, unbelieving the whole while, and ended up crying terribly that day.

So terrible that the life ahead of him had changed after that.

Soon the clouds began to shift inwards, and rain looked on its way. It was soon three o’clockin the afternoon, and Myungsoo’s tears had just about dried, when he noticed the flowers on the tree in the park beside him, to his surprise, beginning to bloom. He felt another strike to his heart knowing that not only was he going to be missing out again on the beauty of spring Kumiko had always been telling him about in Japan, but he was also going to be spending it alone.

Myungsoo wiped away the last of his tears and got up to leave, half expecting his eyes to take on the usual tones of white–black–grey of the petals that unfolded before him. As the dimming sunlight touched his vision, he rubbed his eyes more violently, waiting for the familiar haze to shadow his eyesight…

But it didn’t.

Getting over the dizziness, he scanned the warm environment to find no longer the dull surroundings of the park, but a vibrant assortment of green–

Blue–

Red–

Pink–

Colour–

–laid out in front of him, waiting for him to absorb and appreciate. Myungsoo stood frozen for what seemed like a really long time. What just happened in that split second? Why did everything burst into colours? Was he dreaming? At first he didn’t, couldn't, understand, but after rubbing his eyes a few more times and realising that the colour was still there, he knew without a doubt it wasn’t at all a dream, and that everything from that moment onwards was going to change. For the better.

... Did the heavens see his tears? Because Myungsoo was no longer held captive in a once colourless world. Kumiko’s death had brought him pain, but her wish... it brought him colour.

❀   Watching the sketchy stump that remained of the cherry blossom tree at the Japanese shrine, Myungsoo felt like Kumiko had been next to him this whole time. At the rear of his mind, she was telling him again to come back in time to see the flowers bloom. Myungsoo recognised the ring of her voice, and watched as the treetops danced in the littlest of breezes at her mention. She wasn’t there in person, but she was forever etched in his heart. She was as eternal as time, and as long as he could see his world in colour, then he felt that she was within his sight. After all, that was what she had left him with. Even in the air brushing past his cheeks during the evenings, in everything he saw, heard, and felt–she was there.

Myungsoo reached into his pocket, pulling out a wrinkled paper crane slip, the same one Kumiko had written on two years ago, that he had kept and read back at the park in Korea. He straightened it, and– a wing. He started at his name in cursive lines, and then turned to the back. Myungsoo remembered he had written his own message on the other side, next to her's.

Opening it, the message he had intertwined with its destiny unfolded naturally before his teary haze.

'I wish Kumiko and I can stay together forever.'

Taking one last look at it, he placed a kiss on the paper crane and placed it on the bench top in front of their cherry blossom wishing tree that once existed. Closing his eyes, Myungsoo stood like that for a really long time, praying, with just the solitude of the night embracing him and his thoughts. He whispered the exact words of his message over and over again, though knowing that no matter how hard he wished for her, she was no longer going to be by his side again. But he kept at it anyway, all in hope that his love and thanks would reach her. It was the only way. Myungsoo couldn’t tell Kumiko he loved her, because he knew it was more than just that he felt.

He opened his eyes slowly.

Awake now, yet still deep in his thoughts, Myungsoo lifted his hand from his side into the springtime air just in time to catch a pink cherry blossom petal that had flittered down from nowhere into his palm. He looked up, confused, only greeted by the blinking stars in the night sky. Had Kumiko heard his prayers? Was she watching over him now? His defensive barrier softened at the silly thought. For a moment, he almost truly believed that she had granted his wish. But wherever the petal had come from, he was grateful for its warmth. As he stood there caressing it in his palm, it was as though the every tint of pink on it he saw was painted with an affectionate reminder of her name, her voice, her smile, her everything.

❀   Hands now resting on the gate, Myungsoo took one last glance at their cherry blossom tree stump and the wooden bench where they shared their last memories. He felt no urge to capture it with his camera, though, because he knew that no matter where he went, his memories of Kumiko would last forever regardless. As much as he was taunted by the whole experience, he actually never regretted anything. His encounter with Kumiko was short, but she was the one who gave him light in the darkness, warmth in the cold, hope and love in an empty life… and most important of all, she had given him colour. Myungsoo smiled with his heart for the first time in two years. He never really understood what it was he did to have gained such luck, and perhaps no one would believe him if he had told them the story, but he was never going to forget about Kumiko till the day he died.

As he turned to leave the shrine place for good, the last thing Myungsoo saw was their paper crane being caught up in the current of a dancing breeze as it was swept away from bench surface… and for a second, two maybe, without venturing back, he wondered where the wind would take it next.

a/n: the end! that was almost 7,500 words for ya hurhurrh. hope you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. *throws love*