It's that time of the year again.

     Clear skies, chilly wind, cherry ( blossoming ), the world painted pink.
Every Spring, he gets reminded of him, reminded of them. Of the days of
the past, perhaps already long forgotten. Not to him - Jonghyun n e v e r
forgets. He couldn't, he wouldn't, and like many people's first love, it was
simply impossible.

     (  Fluttering  ) petals,  dusting his jacket  as they settled on the fabric.
The male closed his eyes,  the soft s p r i n k l e  of fallen flowers grazed
his skin.  Memories once locked away  in his pandora box came flooding
back, almost overwhelming. 

               heave. 
                    heave.
                         ...sigh. 

     The first time  he knew that (  fluttering  ) hearts  can be so loud was
that one time Kwak Aron spoke to him.  Late afternoon day, golden rays
streaming into the room.  Jonghyun didn't want  to go home yet,  but he
was too lazy to move. Summer weather sweltering, but the art room was
always so cooling,  so comforting.  The male yawned,  sprawling on the
desk, eyes closed. A nap for the male who curled up like a cat, trying to
cool themselves from the unbearable heat. 

     " There you are. "  Doors creaked open,  steps aloof, followed by his
hand pressing down on the back of his head lightly. Jonghyun snapped
his eyes opened, about to put on his best glare when the hand move to
ruffle his hair. Gentle. Soothing. He sighed easily in defeat.

     There's something about the close proximity of the classroom,  just
the two of them, alone. Crickets buzzing muted by the thick glass,  the
boy shrugged the hand away,  straightening up. " You were looking for
me? "

     Aron didn't answer him directly. Jonghyun long expected that. In the
days of their exchange, Aron had proved difficult to decipher. ( Depths )
of his eyes masked behind glasses, lips almost always with an upwards
curl,  Aron was the amicable teacher  that boys called a friend and girls
looked up.  In that retrospect,  he had no idea why he insist on barging
into his life.

     " You know, someone as good as you
       shouldn't be here." 

                                                      " ...It's like every time we speak,
                                                  it's about evicting me from school."

     Aron laughed.

               thump.
                    thump.
                         thump.

     The sort that lights up in a thousand watts.

                         thump.
                              thump.
                                   thump.

     The sort you cannot look away, the sort that makes hearts race. 

                                   thump.
                                        thump.
                                              thump.

     Jonghyun flushed, annoyed, looking away. The room was starting to
feel stuffy.  He ignored the gaze,  waiting till it  landed  on  his  painting
instead. Then, he waited. Fingers intertwined in a silent prayer.

     ( He was a boy who wanted to please after all. )

     " It's beautiful. It just,
       makes me want to travel.
       Does it make sense?"

                                                                           " Well, it is a train. "

     " And it's moving. Not literally!
       But, you get my drift. 
       ...
       Where do you want to go?"

                                                                                                   " ... "

     In his clumsy way, he ( gets it ). Get the story behind each and every
painting he's ever done. Aron understands the eagerness to escape this
city,  he understood  the way  Jonghyun used art  as the  medium of his 
speech.  He understood the yearning for freedom and yet the hesitance
to leave.  In the  short year,  Aron knew Jonghyun  more than  Jonghyun
ever knew about himself, all through his own artwork.

     He recognize the cobalt blues used when he's frustrated, the dash of
silver used  only on special,  happy occasions. He paints the night skies
when he's stressed.  He paints the sunset on stormy days threatening to
overwhelm him.  He painted rain for a moment of peace.  And he used a
lot  of  white  if  he's  unsatisfied  about  his work,  covering up  mistakes
over and over again.

     He was also the only person to ever compliment his paintings.

                                                                     " I have no preferences.
                                                         How 'bout you, seongsangnim?
                                                                              What do you like? "

     Aron looked at him for an extended second.

                                             thump.
                                                  thump.
                                                        thump.

     Jonghyun stared back.

                                                       thump.
                                                            thump.
                                                                  thump.

     Without warning, they both jerked away.
     Throats cleared.
     Eyes wavering.

                                                                 thump. thump. thump.
                                                                 thump. thump. thump.
                                                                 thump. thump. thump.

     " I'd like to see the sakura.
       We don't have that kind of
       stuff in my hometown. "

                                                                                               " Oh. "

     " Yep. "

                                                     " There's a spot near the school. "

     " Really? "

                                                                      " They say it's a place
                                                                 where wishes come true. "

     " Sounds magical. "
                                                     
                                                          " Next year, after graduation,
                                                                                            let's go. "

     " ...It's a date, then. "

     Jonghyun knew it was just a ( tease ), but he flushed anyway, Like
the tomato that he disliked the most, red running under tanned skin.

     Because deep down, he wished nothing more than it being true.

     ( It's also the first time Jonghyun learned that
       dreams were made to be broken. )

                                                        —————

     Aron ( left ) a few weeks shy of graduation. No note, no goodbyes,
nothing. A new teacher waltz into homeroom one day and that was it.

     For the longest time, Jonghyun was angry. Upset. Curled up in bed
for hours as he hid away from the world.  Questions abound,  answers
gone, as if he's never there.  An illusion.  While everyone moved about
their lives quickly, Jonghyun never forgot their p r o m i s e.

     The naive child  waited under  the trees  as Spring  showered  upon
him.  He  stayed  till  the  (  midnight  )  curtains  drew  across  the  sky,
uniform dried and graduation booklet soaked. 

     And when he  ( left )  the country for his studies,  Jonghyun left not
just his family  and the  two people  he called friends.  He also  left his 
heart behind, locked in a box where the owner had long disappeared.

     He was 18, heartbroken, disillusioned with the world. 

     It wasn't until the recent class reunion that he heard the rumors.

     The reason why he ( left ).

     " Hey. you guys still remember
       Mr Kwak? The arts teacher that
       that just got up and left? Anyway,
       apparently there's some word
       that he's getting too close with a
       student! he's good-looking at all
       but damn, never knew he'd actually
       make a move on them. "

     Movements stilled. Jonghyun remembered the other teachers' stares
and people's  whispering  behind his back.  The way  his friends  nudged
each other  when someone brought up  even as much of a hint of  Aron's
name. It all ( clicked ).  

     Jonghyun dismissed himself early.  Found an excuse  and ran away,
footsteps bringing him  to the exact spot  where his heart wilted for the
first time. ( seven ) was the number of years that passed since that day.

     He was 18. Now, he's 25. The age Aron was when he walked away.

     And yet  the trees showed no signs of age.  Pale pink flowers stood
proudly, illuminated by the lamppost.  Not many appreciated its beauty
in the dead of the night, but Jonghyun wouldn't mind. 

     He stood by.
          Feeling the wind.
               And f a l l i n g flowers.

                    p e t 
                            a l     
                                    by
                                                 e p
                                               t
                                          l a

                    ...like ( rain ).
                                on that day

     Breath hitching, eyes closed, fist clenched.

     Beneath the lies he's told himself about moving on,
                                                                           he still...misses him.

     Even if it's a cheap shot,  even if it's alcohol inducing his silliness,
Jonghyun can't help but put his hands together. In a place he lost his
faith  in  magical tales  and shed  his innocence,  he now  looked to a
miracle. 

     " If I could make one wish
       right now, I- "

                                                                                    " ...Jonghyun? "

               thump.
                    thump.
                         thump.

     'Want to meet him again'  were the words  that died on the tip of his
tongue.  Jonghyun  spun  around,  eyes  widening.  There  Aron stood,
hands in  pockets of  his coat.  Hair cropped short,  but he r ecognized
the same glasses and handsome features. The voice. That posture.

                                        thump.
                                             thump.
                                                   thump.

     " Seongsangnim? "

                                                                 thump. thump. thump.

     The same butterflies that tugged at his heartstrings. 

     A hesitant smile,
     returned with a hesitant smile.

     ( Seven ) years of distance was something  time had robbed him of,
but  time  at least  had one  last line  of mercy.  He  doesn't  know  what
would come at the end of this. It's not the kiss  he once daydreamed of,
nor  would it be the confession he practiced  in front of mirrors at home.
But, for Jonghyun, this is e n o u g h.

     This, is enough.

     A deep breath, slow steps taken towards each other. 

     Jonghyun tried a better smile. Stronger. Firmer. But his voice, quiet.

     " It's been a while. "

     He waited.

     Watched as Aron's smile drawled wider, shoulders eased. He felt his
own anxiousness faded away.

     And as the conversation flowed,
     new ( promises ) made.

                                  Tonight, the cherry blossoms stand witness,
                                  with winds cradling petals to their feet,
                                  yet another

                      reunion of hope.