Soundtrack: Jia Peng Fang - Cherry Blossoms

This diary belongs to Lee Seunghyun

Page: 14

Date: 24-August-2021

What is pure? What can one find in this world that can be considered pure? It must be something utterly free of vices, free of impurity, free of negitivity? Could it be love? What’s the form of pure love? My grandma told me when I was younger, days after my parents died: that both my parents loved me in the purest way possible, in a crisp sheet of innocence and clarity she assured me that the love my parents had for me had “the color of a crystal”.

“It is a love were they chose to suffer rather than making you suffer,” that’s what she told me. “A kind of love that always protects, always trusts, always hopes and always perseveres, that type of love.” I wish I could love Jiyong that way as well, but I’m still too selfish. Even though I tried everyday to think more about his happiness rather than mine, everyday I’m more convinced that in order to achieve this, I need to find my own happiness first.

I can see how he tries to hide his pain, his symptoms and his illness with the stern mask of a face plastered with a fake smile in order to avoid my suffering. But, I don’t want him to. I need to accept all of it. I somehow need to accept the fact he is dying, isn’t it? … But tell me, how am I supposed to accept something like that?

We arrived last night to Kyoto. We traveled by train, all the way from Tokyo across the many landscapes of Japan. I fell asleep in the middle of the trip, unaware of when I closed my eyes and let myself disconnect from my surroundings or when I simply ended placing my head over Jiyong’s lap. It was the first time, in a long while, I dreamt of something. I saw the image of my parent’s faces, how they smiled at me while embracing me between their arms. They looked at me with that peculiar stare, with a beautiful sparkle in their eyes full of pride and hope.

But, what really disturbed me was to open my eyes and find a pair of beautiful eyes looking at me with the exact same kind of stare. Jiyong’s eyes were b with an indescribable feeling, as if he was staring at something too precious for him. He was caressing my hair between his fingers in a constant, slow motion and was singing one unknown song in a low melodious voice.

“Good morning there,” he whispered, smiling when he saw me waking up. But the train was actually submerged in darkness. And behind the windows, one could only listen the chiming of the running wheels and watch some rapid flickering lights passing by from time to time

"What time is it?" I asked, blinking confused, adapating my eyes to the sudden darkness.

Jiyong shrugged and smiled, implying that whatever hour was didn’t actually matter to him. “They told that we are going to arrive at Kyoto in two hours,” he answered pointing indifferently at the hidden speakers on the ceiling of the train.

“I’m really sorry for falling asleep Jiyong, I shouldn’t have,” I apologized, straightening myself and scratching my eyes. But he shook his head, playing the matter down.

“Actually, you inspired me,” he added waiving his notebook with one of his hands. “You were dazzling… You were smiling on your sleep. Funny isn’t it? While I tend to cry, you tend to smile.” 

The thought of him watching me while I slept flushed my face. It felt, really creepy in a way, but it also made me feel nice and loved.

Moved by my curiosity I asked him about his writing and the way he got inspired to write his songs. I wanted to understand how he gets his ideas and from where. So I spent most of the remaining time listening at him. He showed me some fragments of his songs, and explained to me how important it was to choose the right words in order to convey the right feelings. How important the flow of the words and the melody were.

“My biggest inspiration is life. I mean, each single moment; the people around me; my dreams, other people’s dreams, the places I visit, or the ones I read about, my fears, your fears. Everything is the best inspiration for a song. Everything can be turned into music.”

He said all of that waving his hands in front of himself, voicing his ideas with his hands; taking deep breaths with excitement; captivated by his peculiar world and making it all seemed too easy. However, I think I can’t do something like what he does: writing a song from the smallest scaps of life. I don’t think I could.

We came to Kyoto because one of those many nights I spent next to him in Seoul, he told me how interested he was in this particular city. I remember myself sat over the sofa, listening to an endless lecture about the history of Kyoto, the historical value of that city and the amazing landscapes and architecture one could find there. And though Jiyong was really detailed on his explanation, I truly only remember one single thing that made Jiyong intriguingly fascinated about this city.

“It was the only big city in Japan that wasn’t attacked by the US air forces back then. That’s why now it is an historical, cultural and architectural heritage. Flawless and Captivating.”

That was what he told me. And that’s the reason of why I’m right now inside this hotel room, in the city of Kyoto, with him.

This beautiful hotel room. It has a traditional Japanese design with a modern twist; it’s bigger and way more beautiful than our room in Tokyo. The bed is big enough to easily accommodate four big guys over it, but Jiyong's sleeping habits kind of make it somewhat small for the both of us though. And almost everything is covered by the beauty of smooth wood, the walls, the corridors; even the bathroom is covered with reddish ceda wood. We can only inhale peacefulness in here. The personal received us with kindness and an overwhelming sense of courtesy. Their stares were so different as the ones we received always at the hospital every time we were holding our hands together; this time they didn’t make us feel like we had commited the worst of sins, but accepted, we weren't shunned away but held within their embrace, and we showed our pride though smiles and quick footed steps. 

Early in the morning we took the bus outside our hotel and visited the Kiyomizudera or “Pure Water Temple”, located in the wooden hills east of Kyoto. We read about it in one of the multiple brochures one of the receptionists gave to us last night. And after I translated them to Jiyong, he decided he wanted to visit that particular place. 

Kiyomizudera was an astonishing place, simply beautiful. There is a wooden stage from which we could see one of the most mesmerizing settings: an ocean of cherry and maple trees, whose leaves moved by the wind reminded me of colorful tides over the ocean, embellished by the view of the city of Kyoto back in the distance, topped by the peak of the sun hidden by the wisps of clouds.

“You know, I think I can now get revenge on you, for calling me Ri,” I murmured to Jiyong’s ear. His elbows were leaning over the wooden handrail and his head was leaning upon his hand. He was wearing a simple beige coat and some pale jeans. He turned to face me, unsettled, not knowing what I was talking about. “Cherry Blossom, that can be your new nickname, since you already got the pink on you.” I joked, pointing at the messy pink hair on him.

“Don’t even think of it! “Cherry Blossom”, what are you thinking?” he started complaining, pushing me away. “I’m not a pet.” 

“Well, Ri sounds like a dog’s name, let me tell you,”

“Of course not, it’s a cute name. “Cherry Blossom” makes me want to throw up,” he kept saying and looking fiercely at my eyes “Call me Ji, and we are on hand.”

But, if only Jiyong reads what I’m going to write in here, he will be surely mad about it. The truth is since today I can’t look at his hair without thinking of those cherry blossom trees. They are so alike, mesmerizing and beautiful.

After walking through the countless traditional wooden bridges and long corridors with high ceilings decorated with gold chandeliers and long wooden columns, which connected the temples with one another. And after escaping from Jiyong’s camera that was almost all the time pointing towards me, we arrived to a place called Jishu Shrine, a shrine dedicated to Okonisnushino-Mikoto, a love deity. A big square whose floor was covered by stone and surrounded by little temples.

“Here says that we are supposed to find the way from this rock to the other one, with our eyes closed. If we achieve it, one of our whishes can be granted. If someone helps you to do it, then it means you will need the help from someone else to achieve your wish” I read and translated the brochure between my hands to Jiyong. He carefully listened to me while watching at the rocks in front of him. After what he stayed silent with that particular posture he uses when he is thinking of something. Eyes lost, biting lips, hands crossed.

“Let’s do something,” he suddenly suggested with a mischievous expression over his face. “You stay right there and I will stay there, were the other rock is. We are going to walk with our eyes closed trying to find each other.”

“But that’s ridiculous Ji,” I grumbled, already figuring myself walking with my eyes closed, hands extended in front of me, and bumping into people. “That’s not how it is supposed to work.”

“Come on, let’s try it,” he kept begging. And non-amazingly I ended up accepting. 

Though, against all probabilities, and as ridiculous and unbelievable it may surely sound. I ended up between his arms, surrounded by his intoxicating fragrance and the warm of his breath. And I was sure that at that very moment I heard those broken, heartbreaking words whispered to my ear.

“Seungri-ah, I have one single wish. I wish for you to find someone who can love you longer than I can. You deserve happiness Seungri-ah. You surely do. I want you to be loved with strength, with purity”

My world collapsed at that precise moment, the last shards of my sanity were close to snapping, but looking down at the precious bundle in my arms, I strung the pieces together and took a deep breath, with those simple, short words. It felt as if he was saying goodbye, or apologizing beforehand.

“But I already found that person, Ji. I’m holding him right now. We are going to be together Ji,” I said, letting tears roll over my cheeks, painting a little trail over Jiyong’s shoulder and falling on the floor, that supposed sacred floor. If there was a real deity watching over us, I wished for more time rather than for love. I wished for him, to be ok. 

“I love you Ji,” I softly whispered, before placing my lips over Jiyong’s already open and expectant ones. He received me with kindness, grabbing my face with both his hands and pulling me closer to him.

“I love you too, Ri,” he murmured over my lips, covering my face with soft tender kisses, touching my eyelashes, my cheeks and my nose. “And I’m thankful for having you here, right now, with me. You can’t imagine how thankful I am.”

I cuddled my head over the curve of his neck and let his arms slide around my waist, allowing him to soothe my weary spirit.  It was the most beautiful, yet most painful hug I have ever received.

Thereafter we went in the evening, almost at sunset, to the Kinkakoji or Golden Temple. It is a Zen Temple whose two floors are covered completely in gold leaf. It is placed at the edge of a crystalline lake, were its shining walls are reflected over the waters, and it is surrounded by serene traditional Japanese gardens.

“How can something so beautiful, exist after being burned and destroyed so many times?” asked Jiyong with his eyes fixed on the reflection in front of him. “Isn’t it magical? How things can reborn? Sometimes more beautiful than before.”

I stared at Jiyong in silence. The absence of sounds sometimes is filled with trifling, useless, perturbing unspoken questions. Can we be reborn? Can we reborn into something new or something better? I would like to be reborn into someone like Jiyong: one curious, innocent and able to transform its surroundings soul, one dreamy soul. Into what kind of being would Jiyong like to reborn? I guess, it would be a healthy one, or a stronger one.

How can one be reborn? And what part of us will remain intact or will stay? Our body, our minds, our souls… what?

Lee SH

Hello everybody!! First of all thank you for staying with me and this story. You have no idea how much I cherish each one of you ^.^

Second, well my beta-reader and coauthor is a little bit busy this days, so next chapter will be posted probably after 20 January. I'll be posting one-shots and stuff, but please forgive for not being able to update as soon as I wished to. Hope you can wait for me and next chapter. After the 20, I will be updating almost every day. ^.^

Thank you so much.. and wait for it. Jess Ra