Genre: Dystopia, Fluff

Summary: The world's oceans have risen and swallowed entire cities, and technology is at a standstill. An Yu-jin is a young college student who regularly writes to her android, Kim Min-ju, who struggles to understand her feelings.

Word Count: 2467

Hashtag: #JinjooFiestaS3_Libertango

Libertango

“That truth, like all, will always be a mystery.”

“Why?”

“Min-ju-unnie, nothing will be certain in this life. But love is love, and between everything in this universe that is the most human truth possible. Love isn’t programmed, it’s grown. Like the radio waves in the sky, everyone’s hearts are a signal, and they all have their own destination to reach. I’ll love you forever.”

“This is the first time I’m confused about what to say, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Just reply the same, if you feel it so.”

“. . .I’ll love you forever too, An Yu-jin.”

Yu-jin quietly taps Min-ju’s hand. Slow and delicate.

. . .

It was a little while after that the college student Yu-jin had returned back to Anseong after she and Kim Min-ju had spent one or two days together. Min-ju, an android built somewhere before Korea experienced its water level rising, was thankful that Yu-jin repaired her before she left. However, the semester break was already over before the two knew it, and so Min-ju watched Yu-jin board the electric train back to Seoul, albeit painfully.

It was for a few days after that the presence of Yu-jin subsided in Min-ju’s daily life. Life in Suman seemed to be at a standstill now.

Behind the man, the sunlight draped into the warehouse with a delicate aura.

“My, you understand Japanese?”

“It’s one of the languages I was programmed with, yes. You can speak to me in Japanese if you’d like.”

“Ah, okay. I can think much better in Japanese. I talk to Yu-jin-chan in Japanese, but sometimes I’m not sure if she understands me.”

“She doesn’t. She told me herself.”

Mr. Honda stumbled on his words for a second, and almost fell backwards. “A brutally honest android. . !” he thought.

“Anyways, I brought some tea for us. Are you busy right now?”

The Vespa’s engine made a put-put noise as it streaked slowly across the oceanside road. Gunsan Bay was beautiful at this time, as the sun hadn’t quite casted long and slanted shadows on the shore. It was usually about this time, during the winter season, that the skyscrapers and buildings that protruded from the water created giant shadows upon the seashore. But it was only the second year of the summer season, so Min-ju and Mr. Honda had plenty of time ahead to soak up the dog days of summer. In the deep of summer, festivals would usually take place on the oceanside of Gunsan, not more than a thirty minute’s walk from Suman.

These festivals usually took place at night, under the cover of the stars above. Their incandescence burned brightly during the summer nights, as if each one was a fiery candle. Only in the depths of the back country was this possible, where no light could possibly adulterate the obsidian sky.

The new year festival was one such occasion where the whole of Gunsan would come together--Within the oceanside beaches and fields were market stalls of farmers and merchants that travelled far to the oceanside. The edges of the stalls and the beaches were adorned with colourful garments and flags that had goodwill promises of the new year written on them. A band with violins and trumpets would play for tips, as men and women danced together around them. Min-ju would often see children playing kites while running along the surf of the shore, while couples waded in together. The food vendors sat happily calling out to people who were close enough to walk by and wrap themselves in the incredible smells of their cooking. The unlucky few would succumb to the smell and be attracted to the food they sold--only to find out it’s only a few Korean won for the scrupulous amount of food that was given.

Min-ju had known a few of them, for they were mostly men who had children and grandchildren. Their whole lives, they were street vendors. But it was only because they knew about Yu-jin, that she was able to talk to them.

Yu-jin appeared only as a phantom in the middle of the festival. Everywhere Min-ju looked, she would see her dancing along with the band, or she would see herself being amused by Yu-jin begging her to try out some of the street food on her. The two would talk while walking through the stalls, or play games on the beach, drawing out their names on the sand. Min-ju’s was always soft and delicate, almost calculated, while Yu-jin’s was akin to large and powerful brushstrokes on a canvas. Somehow, the two styles met whenever they were written together, as if complementary.

After grabbing fresh hotteok, Min-ju imagined that she would drag Yu-jin excitedly to the outskirts of the festival.

“Where are we going? Where are we going, Min-ju-unnie!?” Yu-jin would say, laughing the entire time. She would skip along the sand, knowing full well that Min-ju can’t.

“I’ll tell you when we get there, you have to be patient,” Min-ju would reply. She would clutch Yu-jin’s hand harder, as they went down the sandy trail towards the outlook.

Right then and there, Yu-jin would lean out excitedly, soaking in the sights of the ocean at night. The two would occasionally see whales breaching the surface. Under the moon, the spray from their blowholes create majestic columns of light that floated for minutes at a time. Along with the ethereal mist, Yu-jin’s voice was mixed within that faraway magic. And Min-ju would always look to her side, and see that her smile was never there in the first place.

From the night, the people would gather and drink coffee and tea waiting for the sun to rise. As the new year settled into Min-ju and the rest of Gunsan through the new threads of the sunrise,