Listen to 봄처럼(Like Spring) by Kim Bo Kyung: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asvh35YAJg0

“Quite sour, right?”

I didn’t have to turn around. I had shamelessly replayed his voice so many times in my head, hearing it for real seemed fitting. Biting my lower lip, I faced him and nodded. “How did you know him?”

Seeing him up close like this after only a week, I realized how precious time really is. A lot had changed over these seven days. Whenever I would think of him, Woohyun would appear to me as how he had that night—tired, relieved, his hair a good-looking mess and his eyes sparkling with the adrenaline. But those were things that had settled into my unconscious, things I had not cared about when he had pushed me off my death spot.

At the funeral, I was seeing him in a different light. A little less than six feet tall, his hair was neatly combed and parted to the left and his jaws were set tight, giving him a sharper and more intimidating persona. I realized that his complexion was actually quite dark and the dim light present during our first meeting had not been playing tricks on my eyes. The sunlight slowly shifted its position, giving his dusky face a spotlight, an ethereal glow.

“A distant relative.” Woohyun narrowed his eyes, reminding me of the moment when I had forgotten to reclaim the lollipop.

“SeokHyun is one of my students,” I said and he nodded with his jaw set tight. “Yeah, I heard him,” he said. Suddenly, he bent his head towards me and whispered, “You do know that I was talking about the way we’re meeting, right?”

I gave him a sheepish smile. Woohyun stepped back and added, “It’s not right, both of us meeting for the first time in an accident and having a funeral as the location of our second tete-a-tete.”
Though a buffet had been set for the guests, Woohyun and I stood far away from the crowd, gazing at them like we had better things to do. There were the occasional people who passed by, nodding at me in a knowing way. All thanks to the unwanted credit that SeokHyun had given to me in the eulogy. Woohyun watched me bow to them and after the fifth grandmother walked by, he said, “You looked a little too touched during the eulogy. Any stories of your own?”

No matter how badly I wanted to continue my conversation with him, I also knew that my experiences knew better. Woohyun was a man. An ordinary, chivalrous guy who had been taught to make small talk with the girl whose life he had saved a week back. Being a sound realist, I knew that a small snippet of my life story would form a wonderful first impression and leave me alone, again.

“Don’t worry. It’s not a problem you have to deal with.”

Woohyun’s head spun so fast, I almost missed my cue to avoid his eyes. Not that I was scared or intimidated. I had been thinking about him too much and a single look could have spilled out my unresolved feelings in front of him.

“You’re right, that’s not my problem.” He blew out some air with a whistle, unaware of the grimaces he received. His nonchalance hit a nerve and I shocked myself with the next few words.

“I’m sorry, I forgot I owe my life to you. Who knows? I might just save you from a similar accident or an impulsive suicide attempt. But its been seven days since we last met and I do not think that that counts as  a ‘meeting’ per say. I don’t see how another coincidence like today makes us close confidantes. Don’t burden your life with my tensions. There you go, I permit you to walk away and prevent yourself from this unnecessary obligation.”

I heaved a sigh, tempted to crumple up and hide in embarrassment. Woohyun pursed his lips while I swallowed my saliva. I struggled to keep up my façade and stared back at him, though his eyes seemed to have found something beyond my frozen expression.

Finally, he smiled and said, “Sorry. I didn’t know that was a sensitive topic.”

I gave him a curt nod and pretended to pay attention to the black sea of mourners. From my peripheral view, I saw Woohyun leaning on the tent pole, his eyes closed. I decided to grab the opportunity and leave, hoping that the ‘distant’ part of SeokHyun’s relationship with him was true. After bidding goodbye to the family, I turned my head one last time, catching his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I said, even though it was impossible for him to hear me. Yet, as the last syllable echoed in my ears, Woohyun stood up straight and smiled at me.

My chest ached at the thought that it was nothing but an act of sympathy. He had understood why I was acting that way. He had realized that I was cushioning the disappointment of never seeing him again.

To get me out of this acute depression of losing the first object of my affection, one of my Japanese students Akane set me up on a blind date. So three days later, I found myself dressed in my beige jumper, a white button-down shirt and a flowery balloon skirt.

“Very cool!” she said for the fifth time when I asked her if the guy was as nice as she had described him to be.

“I get it,” I muttered and hung up on her. Sipping on my chocolate shake, I looked outside at the neighbourhood street market when suddenly, a familiar voice spoke. Even before I could recognize him, my body reacted as a reflex and pumped the happiness hormone in my veins.

“Isn’t this better?” Woohyun sat opposite me and smiled at a waiter. The latter grinned at him and gave him a thumbs up. Ignoring the mute bonhomie, I slumped on my chair and began texting questions to Akane when I was interrupted.

“SeokHyun gave me her number, so there you go, I have been trusted by two of your good friends. A city café bustling with life, a sunny day marking the end of the rainy season and…” Woohyun nodded his head at the table. “Is this scenario good enough for me to oblige you? Because honestly, I have no problem with that.”

That was the beginning of our relationship and a series of the most memorable moments of my life.