Growing up is like travelling around the world.

The further you get, the more scared you’ll feel. Then, at one point, you become comfortable with the spontaneity and become more confident that the path you chose was the right path. Other times, you are terrified of the world around you and the world within you. It seems scary, unnatural and odd. Like it’s not even you, it’s the moon that keeps coming back night after night; the side of you that can only be seen under special circumstances. You don’t know yourself anymore; everyone keeps telling you that you are this and you are that: you’ll never become one of those lazy, unsuccessful people, you’ll never be mentally ill, and you’ll never get divorced and cheated on. They say you’ll change your mind; you don’t want kids now but later on you’ll definitely want to have one, if not more. They talk like they know you; like they know you better than you know yourself. But who are they to tell you who you are? Who are they to talk about you like a character out of a book – when even you don’t know yourself?

Times will come when you just keep going, hopping on and off trains and visiting yet another city. Feeling like a part of the flow, of the mass of people and feeling like only a tiny part of the world. You keep going; you don’t know the destination, you don’t know where the train is heading, you just keep going.

Sometimes, life decides your path. You don’t have a say in your fate; you must follow it no matter what. Endure the injustice, not breaking out of the strings of fate and accepting that this is your new destination. The train drops you off at a station you know nothing about. Then, you get stuck there. You don’t know for how long but you’ll stay there. Not knowing where to go next. Not knowing if you even want to go forward.

There’s a station that was life-changing for Kim Yena.

She was living her life as a confused young adult; not knowing if the path she chose herself was really hers. Not knowing who she was, who she wanted to be because she was trapped in the cage others’ expectations created for her. Although it was suffocating, she couldn’t break out. She thought that even if she tried to start a riot, she would face harsh criticism and punishment. No matter what, living like others wanted her was still easier than finding her real self on her own. At least she knew her role; she didn’t have to find it out for herself.

Yena was studying Law ‒ as her mother wished to ‒ at the Seoul National University. Her dream was to become a writer yet when she faced the instant disapproval of her mother after telling her the truth, hearing that she can’t make a living out of it because only those who are outstandingly talented and have relations with publishers will have stable jobs in the future, she got worn out. She was tired of hearing the same old words over and over again, at every single occasion or whenever her mother talked to the parents of Yena’s friends.

Not to mention the time when her mother asked Yukhei to talk some sense into her and persuade her to study Law because her parent apparently wasn’t a good enough example for her although she was the most successful and well-known lawyer in Busan. Of course, the boy didn’t do it. He was supporting her at that time. In fact, he always supported her but they both changed during their teenage years and that changed their relationship as well.

She was supposed to go home after her Roman Law course when her phone rang. She looked at the number of the caller, but it was unknown to her.

“Hello? It’s Kim Yena.”

“Hello, it’s Kim Jungwoo from the Yonsei Sarang Hospital. I’m calling you because your number was in Miss Choi Jieun’s contacts. Do you happen to know her?” the unfamiliar yet soft voice asked, taking Yena by surprise.

She was in utter confusion, not knowing what to think about the information she had just received. Why would anyone call her from the hospital? Had something happened to her mother? Why was she in Korea in the first place? She was supposed to be enjoying her new life in New York with her new boyfriend. Yena should have been there as well but life decided otherwise. She didn’t mind though, only her mother’s constant mocking and belittling annoyed her.

“Yes, I know her. I’m her daughter,” she stumbled upon her words, her voice sounding like it wasn’t her own. She felt like she was speaking from the other side of a glass window. Everything felt odd, unfamiliar and quiet. Even the busy hustle-bustle of the city and the buzzing of the people at the bus stop where she was waiting felt still. Frozen like a castle made of ice and rigid like a lifeless body.

She didn’t dare to ask the question. Did something happen to her? The words were floating around her, but she wasn’t brave enough to reach out and touch them.

“I’m truly sorry to inform you, Miss… Your mother has been transferred to our hospital because she was involved in a car accident. Her car and a school bus have collided,” the man from the other side of the phone informed her in a gentle yet sympathetic tone, though he couldn’t deny the shakiness of his voice.

Yena had to hold onto a bench near her because her legs became weak. She couldn’t balance herself as the blood was rushing wildly through her veins. She felt like the world was spinning around her, her rapid heartbeat matching perfectly the pace of her thoughts. The glass world that she was living in suddenly fell apart and she was bruised and hurt by the falling pieces. She didn’t want to think about the worst possible outcome yet she couldn’t stop the thought from popping up. What if… it sounded too awful… too cruel… and too sudden.

The words were stuck in . She didn’t know what to ask. Is she okay? Was she hurt? How badly injured was she? She felt selfish for thinking of her mother only when a school bus was also involved in the accident. Kids. Children younger than her. Children who had loving families waiting for them at home, thinking that it was just another usual day in their lives. In reality, maybe some of them would never see their families again.

Yena’s whole body trembled at the thought. She felt nauseous thinking about dead bodies as helpless dolls in a doll house, scarlet-red bloodstains as wild and reckless splashes all over a piece of white paper and body parts scattered in the muddy grass like puzzle pieces that had yet to find their missing parts. She was shivering even from the thought despite the quite pleasant spring weather.

“Our doctors are trying their best to save her life but she’s still in a critical condition,” Mr Kim broke the uncomfortable silence, providing her with enough information to prompt her to move.

“I’ll be right there,” she stuttered as she hung up the phone. Her thoughts were scrambling, running over each other like soldiers in a war, not caring about what’s going on around them. She was trying to come up with the quickest way to get to the hospital, but her legs were already impatient; they moved without her knowing and soon she found herself running, excusing herself whenever she bumped into a stranger. Yet, she kept going and going.

After that, the afternoon was a blur to her.

She was running and running until she was out of breath and almost collapsed in front of the hospital. Luckily, it was only a few blocks away from the bus stop where she received the call but it didn’t mean that the run didn’t exhaust her.

Once she was already in the building, she felt like throwing up.

“Are you okay, Miss?”

An elderly man asked as she was stumbling on her feet, looking as pale as the walls of the hospital. Yena couldn’t do anything else but to reassure him with a weak smile.

She let out a ragged sigh and rushed to the reception desk where they navigated her to the wing where the people injured in the accident were transported. The waiting room of the area was already full of helpless pleas and horrifying cries. Couples hugging each other, little brothers and sisters shaking in fear and grandparents holding each other’s hands like they were holding onto dear life. The scene made Yena’s heart skip a beat. What happened? Who was at fault? Was it her mother who crashed into the bus? Or was it the bus driver’s fault?

She stood there trembling, her hands shaking and her lips quivering for God knows how long. Her mind couldn’t process the sight. All these lives, all these lives that should have been lived to the fullest were on the line. No one knew who would live or die. Yet, no one gave up. A sparkle of hope was evident in everyone’s eyes. As soon as a doctor came out of an operation room, a group of acquaintances hurried to him, asking what happened.

Yena didn’t know whom she should ask, so she reached out to the first nurse she happened to see.

“I’m sorry, Miss,” her voice came out hoarse, her words barely a whisper. Yet, the nurse looked at her patiently, sincerity evident in her eyes. “Do you happen to know where Choi Jieun is?”

Her heart was in when she spoke up, not knowing what to expect.

“Yes, they are trying to resuscitate her at the moment. She’s in room 204.” The young woman pointed to a room at the end of the corridor but before Yena could even take a step towards the room, the nurse added. “Wait until the doctor comes out. You can’t get to know more about her condition even if you barge in,” she reasoned with an inexplicable flinch on her face. Yena nodded, signalling that she understood the weight of her words.

Walking down the corridor to room 204 was probably one of the longest walks of her life. Every single one of her steps felt heavy as if she was walking in water. Her body felt tiny compared to all the chaos that surrounded her. It was all black and grey; nothing seemed bright, nor joyful. She couldn’t help but feel that something might go wrong. The white walls welcomed her with their numb invariance, sending chills down her spine when she leaned onto the wall in front of room 204. She tried her best to perk her ear but she couldn’t hear anything. The walls must have been sound-proof because she didn’t hear a single thing, except the frantic beating of her heart.

What would happen to her if her mother became paralysed? What would she do if she became an emotional wreck? They were never close, so how could she help her mother without feeling guilty yet not feeling suffocated? Her mother was a poison that slowly killed Yena’s real self, thus she always tried to avoid her as much as possible. Not like it was difficult considering that Choi Jieun wasn’t the typical loving mother. She was strict, demanding and inconsistent. She abandoned her though she emphasised that she was always there for Yena when she needed. Of course, it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

After Yena’s father left them when she was only four years old, her mother changed her boyfriends like girls change their outfits. Unable to find the love of her life, she even gave in for one-night stands, often inviting her lovers to their giant house. Yena was only ten years old when she first discovered what her mother was doing with those unfamiliar men who never lasted long. She was a curious and innocent child back then; her mother assumed that she was still in school, so when the little girl opened the door of her mother’s bedroom, the question regarding the peculiar noises coming from the room already on the top of her tongue, all three of them froze.

After that day, Yena always spent her afternoons at her best friend’s house who was no other than Wong Yukhei. The half-Thai, half-Chinese boy was her best friend ever since he was asked to sit beside her on his first day of school. Yukhei joined her class a year after she started school, so not only the language barrier scared the little boy but the new environment and the new faces too. On the other hand, Yena was always a loner. Due to the fact that rumours spread about her mother and her lovers, not to mention their wealth, people were most likely to ignore her or act like she was invisible. Small wonder why she was so excited when she was given a seatmate.

Thanks to the English lessons she was commended to take because of her mother since the age of five, she could communicate with the boy who spoke in a weird mixture of Chinese and English. As time went by, Yukhei taught her Chinese and she taught him Korean while both of them could speak English pretty well. He was the only one who didn’t see her differently – not even after he finally understood enough to know who she was and more importantly who her mother was – yet he was thankful that Yena didn’t treat him like the new kid he was. He hated being the new kid and was extremely glad when a few months later another transferred kid showed up – Mark Lee from Canada.

However, at this crucial moment, Yena knew she couldn’t find shelter in Yukhei’s home anymore, nor in his tight embrace. She had to bear it on her own – whatever was waiting for her, she was all alone.

Hours or maybe only minutes had passed when the first person came out of the room. She was waiting impatiently in front of the ward, unable to sit down or move, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her worn jumper. When she stepped forward, the young man – Dr Seo – noticed the hungry anticipation in her eyes and probably realised who she was. The expression on his face was unfathomable yet she didn’t dare to ask anything. She was afraid that if she might say the words out loud, they would come true.

Dr Seo let out an agitated sigh as he looked down at the girl. His hazelnut-brown eyes were already telling little secrets that only the gods above and the doctors in the room knew.

“I’m sorry, Miss.” His shoulders slumped as the dreaded words left his mouth. His stomach churned just as it always did when he saw that expression on the relatives’ or the acquaintances’ faces. Overall, he loved his job more than anything but he hated the part of telling about outcomes like Choi Jieun’s.

“I-I…” Yena stuttered as her hands began shaking. The world seemed to flip upside down. She didn’t know what to say. Nothing seemed appropriate.

“We’ve tried everything we could, but she was already in a critical condition when we could start resuscitating her,” the young doctor explained with a hurtful wince and placed a hand on her shoulder sympathetically. “I’m truly sorry.”

Yena couldn’t even feel his touch. Her body and her mind went separate ways; it was like as if she saw the whole situation from an outsider’s point of view. She wasn’t present in her body, only the erratic beating of her heart indicated that she was still there.

“I-I know…” she whispered, the first tears streaming down her face. She couldn’t be bothered to wipe them off; there was no need. She knew more would come later.

Dr Seo said something about dealing with the paperwork later because she needed to deal with the agony first but Yena didn’t comprehend what he said. She heard him but it felt like she was under water and he was speaking from above.

“If there’s anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to tell me. You can say your last goodbye to her if you want,” the young man suggested as he pointed to the room although he gulped after he saw the expression on Yena’s face.

She didn’t want to say goodbye. She couldn’t. Not only did she have to receive the news of the accident but now her mother was already dead. How could it happen so quickly? Everything took a dramatic turn in a blink of an eye. One minute she was fuming about the number of essays she would need to hand in by the end of the following week and the next minute she was already at the hospital. How did it all happen? Why did it all happen?

She didn’t want to face the reality. She wanted to kick someone while holding back her tears. She wanted to run to the end of the world and never come back. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, into the void, into the afternoon filled with the breeze of the spring wind and the restless chattering of birds. It was too beautiful of a day for lives to end.

Instead, she ignored what was going on around her and what Dr Seo tried to tell her and she started running. Again. For the first time in her life, she wanted to leave responsibilities behind and do what she wanted to do. Her mother was no longer there to hold her back but the thought made her feel even sicker. Her feelings were too much to handle. The pain, the guilt, the selfishness. The consequences, the legal rights, the unanswered questions and the what ifs. It was all too much to bear.

She was running like she was running for her life. There was no guide how to act when the mother you hated so much suddenly died when you didn’t even know why she was in Seoul in the first place. There were no rules, textbooks or lectures. It was her and the weight of the world on her shoulders. Yena knew she wasn’t strong enough. She was never strong to begin with. If she was, she would have never been studying Law and following her mother’s command. She was fragile like a drop in the ocean, just a tiny bit of the vast universe that was always dark and unfamiliar to her.

She was running until she hopped on the bus that she always took when she was heading back to her flat. She was out of breath when she sat down, her tears constantly streaming down her face. She didn’t look at anyone, she looked straight out of the window. She tried to hold it all in – at least until she got home – and muted the sobs that were trying to reach the surface.

It seemed like an eternity until she could hop off at the stop that was almost right in front of the block of flats she lived. After all the running, she found it hard to drag herself to the flat, walk all those stairs and let herself into the accommodation.

As soon as she stepped in, she heard the all-too-familiar, smug voice coming from the living room and she didn’t have to think twice; after locking the door, she kept walking. The lounge was the closest to the entrance and she had to walk through the open area between the kitchen and the living room to get to her own room.

“You know it’s not too nice of you to leave all those dirty dishes on the table when you always reprimand me for not cleaning up after myself,” Yukhei remarked, the annoyance apparent in his voice.

Yena was thankful that Yukhei was paying more attention to the tv in front of him than the girl who had just arrived because she could slip into her room without the boy looking up from watching the news. He was sitting on the couch while she was walking to her room behind him which was fortunately really close as it was only a tiny apartment.

She let out a sigh when she closed the door behind her. That’s when the first real tears could resurface. After that, there was no turning back. Her ugly sobbing soon filled the silence of the room, creating an oddly outstanding cacophony made of pearl-like tears and uncontrollable, raw sobs.

Yukhei furrowed his eyebrows in question as he tried to process what had just happened. Even though they may not have been on the best terms with Yena, she usually responded to what he was saying. Or talked back to him in the sassy way she could use only with him because she was perfectly aware of the fact that Yukhei didn’t take anything to heart. At least, he tried not to take anything to heart after their fall out.

“She must be on her period. That’s when she doesn’t even talk to me,” he mumbled to himself as he averted his eyes back to the screen. As soon as he reached for the bag of chips on the other side of the couch, he heard unusual noises from Yena’s room. She was usually a quiet, reserved person who didn’t like to make a lot of noise or to interrupt anything – as expected from someone who was taught this way – and she didn’t like to show how she really felt under that cold surface.

Yet, Lucas knew what he heard. It was Yena crying. The last time she was crying was… Nevermind.

The boy hesitated for a moment before he finally had enough courage to stand up and walk to her room. Though when he reached her door, he suddenly found his plan a terrible one. Who was he to try to console her? They weren’t best friends – not even friends – anymore. They didn’t chatter about their days – if so, only in a mocking way. So did he really have the right to ask what had happened?

Yukhei shook his head in an attempt to get rid of all the questions, yet nothing was solved by his act. The more he heard the sobs from the other side of the door, the more he realized that he didn’t have any right to interfere in her private life. He was nothing to her, only a nuisance. They meant nothing to each other. They were supposed to mean nothing to each other.

He gulped nervously. He walked back to the couch, hopped down and averted his eyes back to the tv screen. It was a channel mainly for the news and now it was time for the latest ones ‒ including an accident that had happened some hours prior. Pictures of the ones who had lost their lives were displayed on the screen and that’s when Yukhei’s heart skipped a beat.

“No way!” his jaw dropped, chills rushing down his spine. He knew one of the victim’s features too well. He could recognise her face even if it was an old picture of her.

Choi Jieun.

Suddenly, it made sense why Yena hadn’t said a thing to him when she arrived and why she started crying the moment she closed her bedroom’s door. Nevertheless, it was enough of a reason for Yukhei to break down the walls that were built between the two of them in the last few years.

Without a second thought, he rose from his position and rushed to the girl’s room. He didn’t hesitate this time and didn’t even ask for her permission. In fact, he almost broke the doorknob because he was so eager to see her. He didn’t know what he had expected but a sudden rush of restlessness was rushing through his veins because he wanted to be beside her so bad. Like she was there for him all those years ago.

Yena either didn’t hear the boy entering her room because of her loud sobs or didn’t want to acknowledge his presence. Whatever the case might have been, Yukhei walked up to the crying girl and tenderly hugged her, trying to squeeze everything into that one fragile moment. She didn’t hug him back; she was like a lifeless doll that was supposed to stay the same no matter how many people touched her or toyed with her.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered gently, hugging the now all grown up Yena who seemed so tiny and vulnerable in his embrace. Her sobs didn’t soften, in fact they got louder but he didn’t mind. This raw and ugly side of her was the one that only a few people got to know and he was thankful that she didn’t push him away.

Yukhei wanted to be there for her no matter what had happened between the two of them and no matter what would happen after she lets everything out. She was once hugging him like this, not in this flat but in Busan, her noodle arms holding his already growing body, her hair falling into his face and her fingers drawing invisible hearts on his back. Now Yukhei did the same. Maybe Yena didn’t see the similarities but one thing is for sure; the roles had definitely changed this time. The boy would never think that he needs to be there for her after the death of her mother because she always seemed like someone who wouldn’t need to deal with hardships like this. She was always the lucky one.

On the other hand, after they drifted apart, she seemed like a wall that couldn’t be destroyed. He didn’t know what she went through, nor what happened to her under the cold and rigid façade. Yukhei only knew that she didn’t want to stay in Seoul yet she was stuck due to something that Yena’s mother tried to keep within the two of them. They had already sold their house when something came up, so she had to stay in Seoul while her mother started a new life in New York with God knows who. Thus, Yena had to stay in the capital city with Yukhei as her last chance.

Yet, Yukhei once again had to realise that even the strongest souls could be broken sometimes, and everyone needed a helping hand that could put the pieces back together.