way back home

Yongsun sees the adviser once a week, she talks and cries. Yongsun believes she is getting better, the flashbombs do not appear in her dreams as often (the light is slowly being overtaken by a shadow), sleep is almost peaceful. Nowadays, Yongsun wakes up next to Moonbyul and moves closer, wrapping her arms around her. Yongsun has a habit of pressing her against Moonbyul’s neck, feeling the faint beating of her pulse.

Life is simpler for them now, quieter in many ways, they fall into a rhythm they can both follow with ease. Before they go to bed, they dance, swaying to music by a new up and coming composer. They step on each other’s feet, they stumble, they fall, they laugh and get back up again. When their hearts beat as one, they discover a cadence. They find a method in the madness of the music, with easy steps they travel across the living room floor, Moonbyul’s hand on Yongsun’s waist, Yongsun’s hand resting on Moonbyul’s shoulder.

In contrast to their days, their nights are filled with passion: they explore with their mouths, trail with their fingertips, memorise with their eyes — there is always something new to be discovered in the dead of night. Their voices rain over each other, washing away the pain (together they drown in pleasure), they play with the light of the universe, moving together in harmony underneath a dim headlamp.

They are two bodies pressed together lying in surrender to each other, backs arching off the bed when overwhelmed with ecstasy, their hands finding each other and intwining, a sign for comfort and trust, and their breaths crescendoing with each touch, tug, graze of the hand, chest, mouth.

They are something special, something beautiful, something worth keeping and fighting for — Yongsun would not change what they have for any thing in the world, of that she is certain, and during those nights, she tells the Theory of Life to off because she does not want to think about it when she kisses Moonbyul’s lips, or when she grips Moonbyul’s back, or when she splays her hand on Moonbyul’s chest when they have worn each other out.

While eating lunch at the café that they both like, Moonbyul puts her fork down and rushes to grab something from her bag.

«Stay exactly like that.» Moonbyul says slowly while searching through her bag.

Yongsun’s heart leaps, her stomach flutters.

«What are you doing?» Yongsun asks, unable to contain the smile that forms on .

Moonbyul chuckles lightheartedly, revealing the new camera she bought a couple of days ago. It is one of those old fashioned cameras with a long lens, although, Moonbyul’s camera has a rather short one.

«You look wonderful in that light, and your hair has fallen perfectly over your shoulder.»

The funny feeling in Yongsun drops, not entirely, but enough for both of them to notice.

«May I?»

«You never have to ask.»

Moonbyul smiles, and Yongsun rolls her eyes because she knows that nothing will stop Moonbyul from asking Yongsun’s permission for any thing. Yongsun hears the click of the shutter, and then Moonbyul holds the camera out in front of her, looking through the pictures she has just taken.

«How’d it turn out?» Yongsun asks, leaning over the table. «Pretty?»

«Of course,» Moonbyul says and shows Yongsun the pictures, «how could it not be?»

Yongsun scoffs, Moonbyul sits back in her chair and continues to stare at the pictures. The funny feeling returns, Yongsun has turn to her face away in order to hide her burning blush because Yongsun does not blush.

It is ridiculous, Yongsun thinks as she watches the city pass her by, absolutely ridiculous. She hears the shutter click again and Yongsun can not help but smile knowing that Moonbyul is taking more pictures. 

Later, they are in Yongsun’s apartment and are lying comfortably on the couch, Yongsun with her nose in a book, legs slung over Moonbyul’s lap, and Moonbyul fiddling around with her hologram-pad. Moonbyul sets it down, throws her head back and heaves a sigh.

«I feel like dancing.» Moonbyul says breathlessly, «Yongsun, will you dance with me?»

Yongsun puts down her book and raises her eyebrow.

«Isn’t it a little too early to be doing that now?»

«It’s already dark out,» Moonbyul says, massaging Yongsun’s legs, «we don’t need light to know where to put our feet, besides, can you really call it dancing if it’s just ?»

Yongsun will not admit it (because Moonbyul has the smuggest grin in existence which makes Yongsun’s knees weak), but Moonbyul is right. Therefore, Yongsun puts the book on the tabletop, stands up and holds her hand out to Moonbyul.

Moonbyul grins, Yongsun’s knees go weak and when Moonbyul takes her hand, she nearly falls. They begin to sway to silence, back and forth, until they find a rhythm. Left, right, left, right, they travel across the room in perfect synchronisation, Yongsun holds onto Moonbyul’s shoulders, she feels the steel plates poking her fingertips. A bittersweet taste forms in Yongsun’s mouth so she kisses Moonbyul to make it go away.

When Moonbyul receives a call from one of her sisters, the course of their lives changes. Yongsun chews on her lip and runs a hand through her hair while she sits on the couch, watching Moonbyul pace back and forth as she talks (almost shouts) on the hologram-pad.

Later, after Moonbyul has thrown her hologram-pad across the room, she locks herself in the bathroom, Yongsun sits on the other side of the door speaking to Moonbyul in the softest voice she can muster. Yongsun hears Moonbyul whimpering, hears the faucet being , the water running. Yongsun stays by the door, legs drawn close to her chest, waiting for Moonbyul to appear.

Some time after midnight, Moonbyul emerges from the bathroom, disheveled, eyes red, face stained by tears. Yongsun stands up and searches for Moonbyul’s hand in the dark. Moonbyul is shaking, ready to break, she draws in a sharp breath:

«My father passed away.»

Yongsun tightens her hold on Moonbyul’s hand.

«I have to go back for his funeral.»

Moonbyul splays her hand, loosening Yongsun’s tight grip. After a while, Yongsun completely lets go.

«He left the farm to me, it’s my responsibility to take over, Yongsun I— I don’t think I’ll return to the capital once I’ve left…»

Yongsun knows, she understands, and does not attempt to fight against the tug at her heart. Instead, she pulls Moonbyul close, resting her chin on Moonbyul’s shoulder. They sway in silence, moving back and forth, almost dancing.

They go to bed, both trying to get some sleep, although it is already morning. Sometime, after the sun is up and prying through the blinds, Yongsun hears Moonbyul snore softly beside her but when Yongsun closes her eyes and tries to sleep, she is attacked by blinding light.

Two days later, Yongsun watches Moonbyul step onto the train, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. They turn to each other and, for a second, one might think they will run and embrace each other and forget about Moonbyul leaving, but the steel door closes and the train pulls away from the platform. Yongsun waves at the train and forces herself to smile as Moonbyul makes her way back home.

Yongsun leaves the station, looking over her shoulder several times. There is a certain doubt in her mind which makes her bite her lip and frown when she recalls the Theory of Life and the universe that she has been placed in. She reminisces about her family, her time as a civil engineer, her time as a ‘doctor’ and every thing after and, at the end of her trail of thoughts, Yongsun realises that the Theory of Life has been a part of every thing in her life, which essentially makes it more difficult to fully let go.