XXXVI

Moonbyul is in the capital to replace the steel that covers her back, Yongsun is there because memories of the war still haunt her. They walk the corridors of the hospital together, eat together in the cafeteria, go hand in hand to the lobby. Moonbyul waits for Yongsun while Yongsun has some tests, and Yongsun waits for Moonbyul while Moonbyul is on the operating table. 

While Yongsun waits for Moonbyul, she paints her nails, reads a textbook, braids her hair, looks out of the window, watching as raindrops fall. She thinks about her Theory of Life and spends most of her time analysing it, you see, the Theory of Life is tricky to understand at first with all its twists and turns but it is simply breathtaking when comprehended — watch how it has bent, formed and created Yongsun and the actions she has taken in life. 

Moonbyul is on the operating table, a doctor cutting into her, the scalpel dragging down her back. Moonbyul feels nothing, honestly, she has not felt anything in a while except for her own fingertips when she scratches her back. Yongsun waits and in the act of waiting she finds peace and quiet from the world, hearing the rain against the glass instead of the clang of metal. It is a nice change.

When the door opens, a male doctor with a clipboard in hand and a pencil tucked behind his ear, shoots Yongsun a glance, smiling shyly, lips curling. His voice is soft and low but not as husky as Moonbyul’s. Yongsun feels her heart sink. When he leaves after giving her an update regarding her tests, Yongsun waits for Moonbyul, but she never shows.