(She appears and disappears unexpectedly and for Kim Jong In, it’s normal. It’s normal for her to be easily perceived, and vanished the other second.)   ***     Five years have gone by, but Jong In can still bring back every details of when they first met. It was one mid-morning in late December. Sitting in the economy section of a British Airways making its way across the continent, Jong In placed both earphones on his ears. Pick up his book from his bag and started to read.   Jong In had never talked to a stranger on a plane before, not sort of anyone that would interest him but because Jong In, in general is introvert. From his peripheral vision the passenger from his right, morbidly took off her headphones in order to study the safety instruction card placed in the pouch in front of her. It depicts the ideal crash and how to survive.   “We’re all going to die if this thing screws up. So what are these?” She asks, addressing no one in particular.   He glances at her direction before answering as he was her only audience. “I think, perhaps it reassures people.”   “Mind you it’s not a bad way to go—very quickly, especially if we hit land... I knew someone who died because of a plane crash. Has anyone you know ever died like that?”     He shook his head sideways. “No, and as much as possible I don’t want that to happen to anyone I knew. It would be miserable for those who’ll be left behind, right?”   She fell silent for a minute and contemplated to what he said before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, but… Not everyone gets to have their closure with their love ones.”   Before Jong In could response, a stewardess arrived and offered them lunch. He requested for a glass of orange juice and was going to decline a plate of sandwiches when his travelling companion whispered, “take them anyway. I’ll eat yours—I’m starving.”   She had a velvet black hair, cut short right just above her shoulders and dark brown eyes that he refused to stare at. She was wearing a blue blouse and placed a gray cardigan on her knees. Her shoulders were slim, almost fragile.   “Are you sure I’m not depriving you?”   “Of course not.”   She pressed her lips together and smile, until it turned into soft laughter. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Naru. Han Naru.” She said, extending her hand across the armrest to his. An exchange of biography followed. She will be at London for three weeks’ vacation, while the latter who’s based at the city as an exchange student, returns home from Seoul after visiting his parents.     “I hope they haven't lost my luggage,” she said as they pass through the crowded immigration hall. “Don’t you have that fear that they’ll lose your luggage?”   “It happened to me twice, once in Berlin and Arizona.” He chuckled silently, shaking his head at the memory.   “I hate travelling… but it’s my passion.” The conversation meandered, affording them glimpses of one another's characters.   By the time Jong In collected his luggage and passed through customs, he had fallen in love with Han Naru.   ***     (Jong In sees her everywhere, more particularly in one place they both love—London.)     After exchange of numbers and email, as though it was most natural thing to do, they both found themselves calling one another every day, sometimes as many as five times a day, not to say anything, but simply because both of them had never spoke like this to anyone before.   Jong In could still remember their next meeting. They spent an afternoon together. He toured her around the city, visiting the Buckingham Palace and the famous London Eye.   They had dinner in a West London restaurant, finishing their meal with both of them ordering a big scoop of coffee ice cream, feeding it to each other laughing as they exchange stories.   That was their first date and in the night, they shared their first kiss, and it was filled with a hint of coffee and cola.   He could still feel the taste in his tongue, somehow.       ***     (Jong In sees her in his peripheral— she would appear at their couch, sitting peacefully while staring at him, smiling. Sometimes she would be at their kitchen, brewing morning coffee for him. Sometimes he could hear her hum her favorite song—   But when he focuses on her, she just disappears into the thin air, leaving Jong In hanging and yearning to see her more.)     On the day she’d return home, they woke up early to see Columbia Road in full bloom and that’s when Jong In realize, and recognize that Han Naru was the girl he had been seeking all his life. A creature whose smile, whose eyes, whose sense of humor, whose taste in books and whose intelligence matched those of his ideal.   Inside the Heathrow airport, there was heavy air between them, neither was talking. When their eyes met, they would just smile at each other and laugh quietly.   “Thank you for sending me off, Jong In.” She announced and extended a hand. He took this chance to pull her closer and wrap her around his arms. “I will miss you. Nothing can take away what we have shared. I love the weeks we have spent together.”   When she steps back, he stared at her—they were beaming at each other.   “When you’re in love, it’s not the length of time that matters. It’s everything you’ve felt. Some people don't believe in long distance relationship, but I really really like you and I believe we can do this. Should we try long distance?”   With shaking shoulders, she wiped off a tear on her eye—(Jong In gently caresses her face and said, don’t cry)—and lightly punch him on the chest, “okay, let’s do that.”   “Call me when you got home, okay?”   “Yes, of course.” She patted him on his chest. Tip toed and kissed him on his cheek. “Good bye Jong In.”   “I’ll see you. We’re not done seeing each other. By summer, I’ll return to Seoul and we’ll be together.”   “That’s a good idea.” ***     (Jong In’s eyes averts at the curtain hanging at their tiny London apartment. He couldn’t help but think, those curtain needs to be replaced. They were plaid sheets, traces of dust and holes are also present. )     He remembers Na Ru hiding behind them one morning, when she was especially playful and waited to scare Jong In out of his wits.   Her plan was successful.   Knowing Jong In,  who’s scared of little things like fireworks, party popper and other materials which exuded startling sounds, his shoulders shrugs and he almost screamed—only to be stopped halfway through before it escapes his lips, when he heard her laugh hysterically.   Feigning annoyance, he tackles her down until the cold floor touches their skins, tickling her and laughing together until they both gasp for air. Catching their breaths, Jong In turns on his side, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, a comfortin