“I’m sorry,” Yoon Gi whispered to the humid air. “I’m sorry.”

He gave a heavy exhale as his eyes traced slowly over the words etched in the limestone. The idol plopped down beside the tomb of his grandfather, not at all minding the soggy grass that seeped into the bottom of his designer jeans. He thought of his grandfather’s abrupt death and all the remorse and anguish that followed it.

Yoon Gi was far too naive then; the concept of death was still foreign to the young teen who only dealt with things when it came. And like all young adults, he never felt pleasant about parading around town with his relatives holding him by the hand, and his grandfather was no exception. The stocky man also always seemed to adore pushing Yoon Gi over the edge with his consistent “nagging.”

Only when the boy lost him to old age did he finally regret rebelling against the only person who was always on his side, telling him to follow his dreams.

“I should’ve treated you better.” Yoon Gi’s voice cracked at the last word. His vision of the tomb blurred as tears filled his eyes. He reminisced the summer evenings spent with his still youthful grandfather catching fireflies with nothing but bare hands and crooked grins. And the violin recitals he used to hyperventilate about only to have the man he looked up to most, silence his fear with a single pat on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed again, blinking away the tears.

A beat of silence followed before the heavens suddenly opened up and warm drops of liquid showered the idol. Yoon Gi stood unsteadily, but grinned his signature grin. He understood. It was his grandfather’s way of reminding him to stop being an overly emotional idiot.

The boy unfurled his palms and let the rain pepper it before turning back to the tomb, and scrutinizing the engraved words once more.

Have faith, we’ll meet again.

This time, a soft smile played on his lips.

“I’ll be good.” He announced quietly. “Next time.”