Jaewon’s death hit Hayi more than the death of her father did. Nevertheless, she hid it well. She had long mastered the art of hiding and the art of pretending that everything was fine, so that was exactly what she did. She carried herself as usual; back heavy and shoulders slightly slumped forward as if she was carrying the weight of the world within her. However, if people looked closely, or if they paid more attention to her, they would notice that she was nothing lesser than a walking corpse. However, they didn’t, and though life had stopped for Jung Jaewon, life kept on rolling for Lee Hayi—unfortunately.

Jaewon’s funeral took place the next day. The autumn sky was as clear as a summer sky—it was in the brightest blue—with soft, white clouds hung loosely below it. The sun was shining brightly at the distant horizon, with warm breezes carrying the brown and orange crunchy leaves through the air. Faint sound of birds chirping can be heard too. Damn Jaewon, she thought, even the weather was beautiful to send you off. It was way different from all the funeral scenes in American series she used to binge-watch with him before, in which it would be raining with heavy, dark clouds decorating the sky – making everything even more depressing than what it actually was. However, Jaewon was a beautiful creature. Perhaps that was why the nature decided to be just as beautiful that day. Hayi was, somehow, grateful for that, at least.

Hayi wondered whether Jaewon could actually see everything from wherever he was—from the weather, to all the people that came for him. Hayi recognized all the faces. Most of them were people from school, and the rest was his family. It was safe to say that unlike Hayi, Jaewon wasn’t exactly friendless—though she wondered where all his friends had gone during the long, torturing 8 months when he was hospitalized. They dressed in plain black, from head to toe, and they brought him flowers, too. Hayi wanted to tell them it was pointless. Honestly, it really was pointless. Why on earth did people give flowers to someone who was no longer around, when he was already six feet under the ground? What can the dead do with flowers anyway? What can Jaewon do with the flowers? Absolutely nothing. It was plain stupid, completely pointless. Definitely a waste of money. She heaved a sigh, and bit her lip.

Flowers.

Flowers.

Flowers.

Jaewon got plenty that day—from roses to baby’s breaths to irises.

Hayi wondered if she would get some when she was dead.

And then, she wondered, too, if she deserved any.

If there was anything that Lee Hayi was yet to learn about Kim Hanbin was that he was damn observant. His eyes easily recognized her, though she blended in well with the crowd—too well, that one could effortlessly overlook her. She, too, was dressed in black, a scarf of the same shade was loosely hanging from her neck, and her hair that she tied up all the times before was down that day. He couldn’t deny that when he first saw her with her hair like that, the initial thought that crossed his mind was that Hayi really, was, pretty. However, it was quick to vanish as her face caught his full attention. Her face that appeared calm—too calm—that it bothered him. She wasn’t supposed to look that calm. He knew that she spent most of her time—all her time—with Jung Jaewon, so if there was anyone who was supposed to cry aloud, it would be her, and not the others. The thing was, Hayi looked fine—so fine—he was terrified.

Hayi only started to go to school on Wednesday, though Jaewon’s funeral happened the previous Saturday. Mrs. Lee had informed her homeroom teacher regarding her absence, and she was glad that she was given some time and space alone—to adapt to Jaewon’s absence. She didn’t mind being alone, because she thought that one way or another, it would only make her stronger in the broken place. She wanted to be strong. Hence why she never shed a tear, not even once, after his death. However, that day, when the desk beside her was left unoccupied throughout the day, and how she had no one to talk to (though she never talked a lot before in their tiny circle), she felt so ing lonely. It left a bitter taste in , which ended her up in the washroom, with her knees on the floor and her face in the toilet, spilling everything that she had for breakfast though she never had much to begin with. Her eyes went bloodshot red, beads of sweats formed on the forehead; face went as pale as snow. She was shaking badly.

As she cleaned herself at the sink, she couldn’t help staring in the mirror.

She didn’t get it—how life suddenly stopped for a hopeful person like Jaewon, but went on for someone as hopeless as her.

Hayi excused herself from the class, effortless lied to the Mathematics teacher by telling him that she didn’t feel too well, and he let her go to the infirmary. For a top student like Lee Hayi, what more an unproblematic one, lying to the teachers was undeniably easy that day, especially when they knew that her best friend had died too recently. When she was asked if she was fine, they believed her. The moment she decided to lie (which wasn’t exactly a lie) and told that she wasn’t feeling well, they believed her. Hayi found it strange how easy it was for them to trust her, and take her words as they were. The lying part only came to play when she didn’t exactly go to the infirmary; instead, she used the opportunity to roam around the school. Of course, what the teacher didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Unknowingly, she ended up on the school rooftop, and she was surprised to see that the view before her came in colours.

Kim Hanbin was there; his back was facing her, as he stared ahead into the nothingness of the autumn air. His legs were dangling from the edge of the rooftop as he casually sat there; his fingers were drumming themselves against the dirty concrete. Lee Hayi was dumbfounded, but before she could even do anything, he turned his head around; a smile was already plastered on his lips. It was strange; she felt as if she had seen that coming. She couldn’t pinpoint what made the scene all too familiar, but he waved her over so the question remained unanswered and soon vanished, and within seconds, she found herself sitting beside him, legs dangling just like the figure next to her. For a moment, silence hovered the two. They were absorbed with whatever that was before their eyes; Hanbin had his eyes on a pair of black and white birds that were on the branch of a leafless tree. Meanwhile, Hayi had hers on the school field that still appeared too huge to her liking though she was far up above the ground while trying to ignore the faint bitter taste that still lingered in .

“How come you’re here?” Hayi asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I decided to skip classes.”

“No, I mean, school. How come you’re at school today?”

“Oh,” Hanbin nodded. “Because you stopped visiting me at the hospital.”

Hayi couldn’t help staring questioningly at him. “I’m sorry…?”

He flashed her a boyish grin upon seeing the clueless expression on her face. He cleared his throat before continuing, as he realised that his statement was rather vague, though it seemed to be quite direct, too. “You stopped visiting me at the hospital, and I really didn’t know where to find you. So, the only way for me to see you is by coming to school.” As strange as it was, he had never asked for her phone number, and she did the same. From what he noticed, since the very first day he was hospitalised, she had never missed coming to the hospital. He thought, for whatever strange reasons, seeing Lee Hayi at the hospital alone was enough. He didn’t want to be too greedy. Not too long after that, he learned that Jung Jaewon was in the same hospital, and it didn’t take a lot of his brain cells to connect the dots together. Hence why when the news of Jaewon’s death broke out too, he figured out right away that she wouldn’t be coming anymore—since she had no reasons to anymore. Therefore, he decided to come to school again.

The gap between Hayi’s brows scrunched up together as she finally caught what he was saying. “Are you stupid?” the question was out of her lips before she could even stop herself, but really, what he told her didn’t make sense at all. “You’re sick, Hanbin. Seeing me is no good as staying in the hospital is.” I can’t save you, that was of course, was only continued in her mind (or that was what she thought). She found herself having no courage to say that aloud, and perhaps Hanbin was just messing with her, but it still made her stomach churn uncomfortably—painfully—how she couldn’t save him.

“Are you worried about me?” he dumbly asked.

“Hell no.”

“Then what was that?”

“I’m not at all worried. I was just saying.”

Hanbin’s laughter erupted rather loudly Hayi grew anxious at the thought someone would catch them there. No one actually came, and he finally stopped after a short while though he still had that annoying grin on his lips. She rolled her eyes, and only after he let out a low chuckle that she had the answer to the question she had earlier—why Hanbin’s smile that greeted her first upon her arrival felt all tad too familiar. It was a eureka moment, she figured, and it came out of the blue, too—just like how the sudden strong wind that gushed over them after that, and she had to pull the school blazer even closer to her body—if that was even possible. Like a lightning that made its way across the heavy cloud, the scene from earlier flashed before her mind’s eyes, and it sent shivers down her spine. She side-eyed him, and he was staring at the sky so intensely yet gently, as if he was in love with it. She came to three conclusions then: perhaps she really was worried about the boy named Kim Hanbin, or perhaps the said boy, somehow, reminded her so much of the deceased Jung Jaewon. Perhaps it was both.