Black And White - G.Na

Min Yu's POV

Sender: Min Yu

You have to go by our house and visit Min Young. She had her interview with the principal of her new school today.
You have to ask her how it went by. And she's been looking for you these past few days.

I sent the text message and went back to work. My door burst open and the new contributor stormed in. "What do you mean I misspelled the word 'desperate'?!" she exclaimed. "It's fine. It's not like this has been published already. That's what an editor is here for," I slumped back on my chair.

"No. You're wrong. I didn't misspell it," she firmly declined. "Okay. Out loud, spell 'desperate'," I ordered her and glanced at my watch. This is obviously a waste of time.

"D-E-S-P-R-A-T-E. Desperate," she spelled obligingly.

I typed the letters on a blank Word document and showed it to her. "Have you even consulted a dictionary?" I scolded. She grumbled unintelligible sentences, which I assumed were curses, and left, slamming the door behind her.

"You've been mean to her," my co-editor, Hyun Jae, commented after she was done laughing behind her desk on one side of the room. "She just can't accept that she's new and unexperienced," I sighed. "It's like she never finished college," she chided.

"I think she only got accepted because she spoke fluent German. Well, I speak fluent English, Mandarin, German, French...you name it. Yet what I earn is barely enough to cover my third year in law school," I shook my head.

"My husband and I already want a second child, but we don't know if we can afford it even with our salaries combined," Hyun Jae complained. "Don't worry. You'll get promoted soon," I said in consolation.

"Thanks. I think we'll get promoted together," she smiled. " And I think you better go. It's almost noon," she reminded me of the time. I finished the last paragraph of my article for tomorrow and sent it to the chief editor.

"Tell Chunji I said hi," Hyun Jae said. "Good luck with editing," I waved goodbye and left the office. My phone rang just in time when the door swung back to the frame.

"Are you outside?" I answered the call.

"What? Where?" the person on the other line got confused. "Oh Donghae. I'm sorry. I thought it was Chunji," I mentally slapped myself for not checking the caller ID while pressing the DOWN button on the elevator. "So?" I asked when he became silent.

"So what?" I can imagine him rubbing the back of his neck, which he always does whenever he's confused. "So why did you call?" I repeated. "Oh. Right. I just wanted to ask if you want to eat lunch with me," he invited.

"I don't know. I'd have to ask Chunji. He might be waiting for me. But if ever he's busy, I'd just eat with you. Where are you, anyway?" I explained, not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Starbucks. I'd wait for you, okay?" he answered, and hung up. The elevator doors opened and I entered. My phone rang again, and it was Chunji this time.

"Where are you?" he asked. "On my way down," I rested my back against the wall. "I'm outside," he said and ended the call.

After a minute or so, I finally reached the ground floor. The doors opened with a sound and I quickly left the aluminum shaft. Chunji's car was parked outside and I entered. "Chunji, can you spell 'desperate' for me?" I greeted with a kiss on his cheek.

"D-E-S-P-E-R-A-T-E. Why?" he started the engine. "Thank you. And you didn't need to be fluent in German to be able to know that, right?" I demanded. "Let me guess. You had a fight with another contributor who misspelled 'desperate'," he chuckled.

"What's wrong with writers these days?" I sighed. "Baby, not everyone has the same mental capacity as you," he replied. "But we get along together!" I whined. "So are you saying you're smarter than me?" he shook his head in disbelief.

"I love you. Let's eat. I'm hungry~" I cooed, getting myself out of a grave I dug myself. "You know men and  women are..." Chunji started. "Equal in the eyes of God," we finished together his dog-eared sermon I've heard so many times whenever I would . "Stop lecturing me," I complained.

"Fine. But admit first that I'm smarter than you," he smirked evilly. "Yet you're the one giving me a sermon that men and women are equal," I pouted. "Come on. Just say it. And I'd cook dinner for you later," he said. "I have lots of instant ramen," I informed him.

"Then I'd make you instant ramen. Come on, tell me that I'm smarter than you," he threw a fit like a little kid. "I'd sleep at omma's later. Make yourself comfortable inside my apartment," in the end, I still stood firm.

"Please~?" he used his aegyo on me. "You're 27 and you still do that?!" I exclaimed. "Tell me that I'm smarter than you," he pressed. "Fine. You're smarter than me," I admitted. "Yay!" he savored his victory and clapped his hands happily.

"Stop the car. I'll eat lunch myself," I ordered. He stepped on the brakes really hard in surprise and both our bodies shot forward even with the seatbelts on. He turned to me with a questioning look on his face. "I'm not kidding," I said seriously.

He parked the car in a safe place and embraced me tightly. "Tell me you're joking," he pressed. "I'm serious," I kept a straight face, but deep inside, I really really fought the urge to laugh at his reaction. "Fine. We're both smart," he gave in. "Yeah, I love you too," I let out all my suppressed laughter. He started driving again. "You always make fun of me," the corners of his mouth indicated a frown.

"It's because I'm smarter," I replied as a-matter-of-factly.

Narrator's POV

But she was wrong.

They ate lunch happily, and Chunji drove her to Seoul National University afterwards, where Min Yu was taking her third year in law school. Her classes ended at 4 in the afternoon, and she went straight to her parents' house.

"How's your interview?" she asked Min Young. "The principal asked me for her birth certificate. He wanted to know who Min Young's father is," her mother answered. "What did you tell them?" she turned to her sister. "He asked for her father's name," Min Jae said.

"I asked which one," Min Young replied. "The principal asked her again. And this time she answered..." "I have 19," Min Young smiled The elder laughed amusedly and ruffled her sister's hair.

"The principal might be thinking I'm a e or something," her mother grumbled. "Omma, don't say bad words," Min Yu scolded, gesturing to her sister. Now that Min Young was at the adaptive stage of childhood, the older was careful and overprotective as to what her sister should and should not learn.

"Did Donghae oppa pay you a visit yet?" Min Yu asked. "I haven't heard from him yet," she answered. "But I told him to..." Min Yu checked her phone. She saw 20 missed calls, all from Donghae. And that's when she remembered.

He'd been waiting for her.

She darted out the house and called him, crossing her fingers and hoping he would answer. "Thank you for remembering," he answered coldly. "I'm really, terribly sorry," she sighed, sprinting from her parents' house to her own apartment just a few blocks away.

"I waited for hours," he said, which made her feel more guilty. "Where are you?" she asked. "Somewhere..." he responded. "You're mad, I know. I'm sorry," she fumbled for her keys when she reached her doorstep.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled. She turned the door knob to enter the comforts of her home. "Come on. I'm sorry. I'd make you dinner if you want," she offered, removing her shoes and closing the door.

"Why don't you clean your room first? It's like the North Korea rocket was launched here," he commented. She walked towards her room and opened the door slightly. "How'd you get in here?" she asked, the phone still against her ear.

"I'm a ninja," he said, his body sprawled on her bed. "You're my maid, remember? You should clean my room," she laid down beside him. "But I'm tired. Some stupid girl made me wait in Starbucks for hours because she told me she'd be there," he pouted.

"I'm sorry," she said. "The girl was stupid for making me wait. Plus, she's more stupid because she doesn't know how expensive her phone bills would be if she still won't end the call," he snickered. "Would you stay for dinner?" she asked, ending the call.

"I don't want instant ramen. All I saw were packets and packets and packets of those noodles," Donghae whined. "I don't have much food here. It's either ramen or microwavable food only," she answered.

"What about the time I taught you how to cook lunch? You never tried to do that again?" he sat up. "I didn't even know if it tasted good. Sometimes Ryeowook brings me food, and sometimes I don't eat at all," she sighed at her lack of cooking skills. "WHAT?! You let yourself starve?" he stood up.

"Yeah...that's what Chunji said too," she smiled. "Hey! Be serious! Tell me," he pulled her wrists and made her sit. "What do you usually eat?" he knelt down in front of her.

"I don't cook. I boil water for my instant ramen. Well, actually, it's not what you call boil, really. I just put water on a mug and put it inside the microwave. When it's hot enough, I pour it in my ramen. Voila! Dinner," she enumerated the steps.

"Listen to me," he put his hands on either side of her face. "You're 23 and living on your own. Soon, Chunji would ask you to marry him and you'd have to be a wife. What do you want your children to eat, RAMEN?!?" he scolded.

Their faces were only inches apart. Min Yu closed the distance and kissed him sweetly. "I studied journalism, not culinary arts. Can we just order? I'm too tired, too lazy, and too uninterested to cook," she complained and plopped down on the bed again.

"Why didn't you visit Min Young? I told you to ask her how her interview went," Min Yu whined. "Well don't put the blame on me. You made me wait in the coffee shop for hours and I haven't had the time to visit her," he pulled her to stand up.

"She drove the principal crazy," she smiled at the thought of her sister sitting in front of the principal. "Why?" he asked. "She told him she has 19 fathers. Omma wanted to explain to the principal that she wasn't a e," Min Yu explained.

"You used to drive the principal crazy too when you were still in high school," Donghae teased. "Argh, don't make me remember," she groaned. "Good thing you never got sanctioned," he said.

"Chunji and L.Joe just stared at the bully! It was gay, if you ask me," she commented. "But that 'gay' has been your boyfriend for 8 years," Donghae said.

"Only 7!" she protested.

Donghae's POV

"Your apartment looks nice if you clean it up a bit," I commented as we ate dinner in front of the television. "What a great idea. Why don't you live here instead?" she replied in a high pitched voice. Obviously sarcastic.

"With you? Why not?" I answered. She just shook her head and focused on watching the news. "Do you watch the news for tonight and write it for tomorrow's paper?" I asked curiously.

"It depends. If anything interesting comes up within midnight, or at dawn, like a hostage-taking or bombing or natural calamities for example, then it makes up the headlines. But I write on broad sheets, not tabloids. International news, not local. But it's basically the same. The only difference is that I also write news for other countries. North Korea, China, Taiwan, Russia, US--"

"Thailand..." I added.

"I don't write stories about guys who leave girls with just a book and a picture, which by the way, are still with me," she said. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly. "Do you remember your food buddies?" I flicked her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "I miss the frog one. And the one you bought me," she remembered her teenage years.

"Where'd you keep my stuffed toys?" I pressed. "I gave it all to Min Young for her to play with. But the special ones, I have it here with me," she replied. I sighed. She has grown so much older. I missed the days when she would stomp her foot and cry easily when she doesn't get what she wants. But that was years ago. To me, it seemed like yesterday.

After dinner, she gathered the dirty dishes and went to the kitchen to wash them. Even just watching her from behind, she looked beautiful. She was wearing an oversized shirt that she had been wearing since she was 14.

Her hair was gathered up in a messy bun. Few strands of hair brushed against her neck as she moved around the kitchen gracefully to accomplish her chores.

Would this have been our future, if I hadn't left her 7 years ago? Would she have married me, and we'd live together in a house of our own? Would this be our situation every night, with me watching TV, her washing the dishes, and our children running around the house?

I'm falling deeper and deeper in love every time I'm with her. It's just too bad we are the only two who knows about it. Even Eunhyuk doesn't have any idea that I was in love with Min Yu.

What would her father say, if he knew we're more than just father and daughter? What would her mother think, when she knows that I plan to marry her daughter? What would the members think, if they knew about all of this?

I stood up and walked towards her. She didn't budge when I encircled my arms around her waist and rested my chin on her shoulder. "Do you need some help with that?" I offered. "I don't need help especially when I'm nearly done," she answered.

"You have to promise me that we'd eat lunch together tomorrow," I said. "Yes. Promise," she pinched my nose. "What if you leave me waiting again? What would I do to you?" I said. "I'd make you a decent dinner, not the ordered one, nor instant ramen. A decent dinner that I myself would cook," she answered. She kept flicking her hair so it won't cover her eyes. "I'll fix your hair," I said and loosened the pony tail.

"Make sure I won't look like a chicken," she threatened. I held her hair on one hand and combed it through with the other.

God, how do girls manage to keep their hairstyles neat when it's obviously hard to fix it? I only fisted Min Yu's hair gently so she won't get hurt. I finally got every strand of her hair under control, so all I had to do was tie it with the rubber band on my wrist.

I twisted it and finally, it looked...--at least her hair wouldn't cover her eyes anymore. She can understand that I was a performer and not a hair stylist. "Donghae if I jumped and it falls--" she did so and her pony tail slipped through her hair.

"Fix it yourself. You can do it. Don't forget our lunch tomorrow, okay? Bye," I hurriedly left her, looking angry, standing in the kitchen with her hair sticking out in all directions. I exited the apartment and closed the door behind me.