22-456 Apdong Road,

Suwon, Gyeonggi-do



November 30, 1967
 

Dear Youngjae,

I got the acceptance letter! My father was so elated he hugged me.

HE HUGGED ME, Jae!

I missed you when he let go to pat my head.

If you were here, I’d run over to your home and scream it at you. I would’ve jumped on your bed, forgetting about your father hating me, and I would laugh like a maniac.

I would cry, Jae. I would have hugged you and cried my heart out.

But you’re not here, Jae. And I’m not happy.

If you were here, I would’ve never stopped smiling about my father hugging me after almost ten years of snide remarks and glares.

But you not here. So my happiness, seems pitiful and nonexistent.

I’d never known a person could be so important. I’d never known you were so important, Jae.

I never knew that I couldn’t even enjoy my happiness without you here to share it with me.

I love you,

Daehyun

The letter sits open on his lap as Junhong stares out the window. He’s on the third letter. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the letters were in fact numbered and went in a chronological order. What does take a genius to figure is why his grandfather has these letters in the first place.

A boy named Daehyun had written letters to a boy named Youngjae almost fifty years ago.

And having read just the first three gives Junhong enough insight to know that everything was wrong with their relationship. What he doesn’t understand is what do these two boys have anything to do with his Grandpa.

He contemplates calling up his mother for questions. She sure sounded like she knew her father’s great secret, but something compels him to just read on. He’s not too sure about his intuition to continue reading, but his gut has never been wrong before. So, despite being unsure, he closes the third letter and puts it back into the envelope before pulling the next one out.

Just before he opens the fourth letter though, something crashes into his semblance.

A boy named Daehyun. And a boy named Youngjae.

How could he have not realised!

Pulling out his phone, he phones his mother without missing a beat. He needs to confirm something. Something about his grandfather.

The line goes through and his mother’s concerned voice filters through the receiver. “Junhong-ah? What’s wrong?” She sounds like she was abruptly woken up and but her voice has a hint of alertness in it.

He knows it’s a horrible time to call the woman. It’s probably close to midnight and his mother is a worrier. But he needs answers. He’s always been a little too impatient after all.

“Mom!” His voice shows urgency. “M- Mom! I need to ask you something.”

His heart is thumping wildly in his chest and even waiting for a reply from his mother seems impossibly torturous but he needs her to be completely awake to answer him. He can’t have her replying to him with sleep doused answers.

It takes a while for the woman to speak. A long while that J