Love me. 

Drg-Lee

            The last snowflake fell slowly, almost as if it was reluctant to flutter down and melt. He wondered if snowflakes knew they were facing imminent death or if they fell, skating through the air, without knowing their undeniable fate. Every snowflake, he decided, must die. And like snowflakes, humans faced the mysterious fact of death. He wasn’t sure if the cold had made him shiver or if the morbid thought had.

            He sighed as he watched the flake disappear into the pavement outside of his house and he had half a mind to go out and console the flake while it died. It was a beautiful piece of snow and he would tell it he loved it. And maybe the snowflake would smile and say thank you.

            It was a childish thought, he knew, but it didn’t stop him from thinking it.

            “Kibum, come here,” he heard, and he wasn’t sure whose voice it was.

He thought about ignoring it, but he finally obeyed after hesitating and calling “I’m coming,” down the hall.

It was his aunt’s voice and she stood waiting for him. “Kibum, your father has been calling you for nearly five minutes! Couldn’t you hear him?”

“If I had heard him, wouldn’t I have come?” He mumbled, heading towards his father’s study. He entered, not bothering to knock and stood as far as he could from his father.

“Sit, please.” He asked. Key declined a chair. “Now son, ‘life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep on’,” He quoted.

Key rolled his eyes. “But dad, ‘your life must come apart so easily when it has been held together with lies’,” Key retorted, quoting an author.

His father leaned back in the chair. “‘Who are you to judge the life I live? I know I’m not perfect, and I don’t mean to be’. Kibum, you act like I’ve never taken responsibility for anything in my life.”

“‘The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final word and if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die’,” Key said. “Did you look that person in the eye and hear their final word, Dad?”

“I didn’t,” he confessed.

“Then you weren’t responsible. I know what you did, Dad. Blaming someone for your own problems? That’s completely irresponsible! How do you even live with yourself knowing that you killed someone?!”

His father sighed. “This is why I didn’t tell you. I knew you’d react like that,”

“Of course I would! My father is a murderer! Did you think I would completely ignore the fact that you killed someone, blamed your friend and went home to hug your son? Did you think I would be blind that whole time?”

His father said nothing for a while and he did not try to think of any quotes to fire at his intelligent son. “Are you going to turn me in, Kibum?”

Key sighed and looked at his father. He’d thought the man was always strong and resilient. But here he was, reduced to sniffing back tears at the hands of his only son. “I don’t know, Dad. You always taught me to do what’s right. Isn’t this what’s right? But I don’t know everything yet. I don’t know who you killed or who you blamed.”

His father leaned forward and rested his elbows on the glass table. “You’re right. The man who I blamed, his family must be suffering so much. It’s been nearly 10 years, Kibum. I was just protecting myself, but I’m harming innocent people. I should confess myself.”

Key nodded sadly. “As much as I don’t want you to go to jail, it’s the right thing. It’s justice.”
            Both father and son spoke at the same time. “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Key blinked a few tears back. “I’m going to miss this, Dad.”

His father stood and crossed the room. He wrapped his arms around Key, holding him tight. “I’ll miss you, too. Give me a week. I’ll confess in a week. I must make proper plans to hand over the company to the vice-president. He’ll run it until you’re 20 years old.”

“And then what?” Key asked, wiping a tear away.

“My Kim Kibum...” He began. “You’ll be in charge of Kim-An Industries.” He hugged his son again. “Please run it well.”

Key nodded. “I promise, Daddy.”

The teary confession ended and Key went back into his room. He knew Kim Hyunchoo had been the one blamed for the crime. Wanting to at least see who it was, Key made the long journey to the downtown prison. Upon viewing the fake, plastic look of the prison, he decided it needed more pink. He wondered briefly how his father could cope without colours.

He entered the building and almost strutted past the guards before he was stopped.

“Who are you? You can’t just walk in here.”

“I’m Kim Kibum,” he said. When the guard didn’t respond to the name, Key rolled his eyes. “I’m the son of the head of the Kim-An Industries. Kim Sunglee’s son.”

The guard bowed. “Who are you here to see?”

“Kim Hyunchoo.”

The guard led him down the corridor, before stopping in front of the cell. “Call if you need it.”

Key nodded and eyed the man sitting in the cell. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked as if he were about to fall apart any second. “Hello sir. My name is Kim Kibum.”

Hyunchoo glanced up at the boy and managed a shaky smile. “Hello. What brings you here?”

Key was taken aback by the soft voice and kind words. “I... I’m doing a school project. I’m supposed to interview a prisoner and I picked you. Because your cell is number 13,” he lied.

“Lucky number, 13, eh? What high school do you go to?”

“Myukjon High School, sir.” Key answered.

“Oh! That’s where my son goes. Do you know him? He is a third year this year. His last name is Kim.”

“I might,” Key said. “Kim what?”

Hyunchoo smiled sadly. “I haven’t seen him very often... His name is Kim Jonghyun,”

Key stepped back against the wall. “Jonghyun?!” He began hyperventilating.

Hyunchoo stood and reached his hand out of the bars to offer some consolation to Key. “What’s wrong?”

Key wiped his spontaneous tears. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were his father. I didn’t know my father...”

“Your father?”

Key hesitated. Should he tell? He had promised he wouldn't for at least a week. “You’ll find out, sir. Next time you see Jonghyun, could you tell him that Key loves him?”

Hyunchoo nodded.

Key turned to walk away.

“Kibum-ssi! You didn’t interview me!” He called from his cell.

Key kept walking, holding in his chest racking sobs until he got outside. How could his father have thrown Jonghyun’s father in jail?