Child.

♦

Jinki stares at his boots. He can hear his mother’s call for him from the cottage, telling him not to stay out too late. Small feet trudge forward. His feet are sinking, sinking into the white snow. He lifts one up, wiggles off the shaved ice as if he is dancing. He giggles to himself. The snow is fascinating.

In just ten steps (he counted one by one, making sure every step is far from the previous in the same distance. He smiles as he does so, bemused.), he is close to the end. The snow is getting more shallow. His eyes are downcast. He finds more snow underneath. He is looking down a cliff.

He thinks, is it not too dangerous to live up here? Jinki’s innocent eyes blink. He feels as if he is flying, on top of the world. It’s not to high up. In summer, he is greeted with a sea of sand. Then a sea. But in the winter, there is only snow. Where did the sand go? Maybe the sand does not like winter. He does not like winter either. It is very cold. His fingers are curling for warmth in his warm mittens as he spoke.

But the sea is always there. Always giving him waves, like a greeting. Or maybe a sign. Beckoning him over. But Jinki’s mom tells him that it is not good to play in water in the winter. He will catch a cold. So he waves to the big pool, with a smile, and says, sorry sea, I cannot play with you right now. Mom will not let me.

Jinki, dear, his mom says, from the window. Get back inside, I baked some cookies.

Jinki smiles wide. He forgets about his conversation with the sea. He turns, making sure he doesn’t slip, and hops (the snow is getting deeper, and he does not want snow to get in his boots as they are, too cold! Too cold!) to his mother, begging for some cookies.

*

The next day, Jinki, cuddled in his father’s coat over a baby blue sweater and thick pants, dances in the same boots to the edge of the cliff again. He wants to talk to the sea again. And that he makes sure that he already ate his cookies so he won’t have to stop talking to the sea. Maybe the sea wants some cookies too!

Jinki is not afraid of heights. He crouches, then sits, pushing out his legs. His boots are dangling over the air. He giggles. Hi, sea.

He talks to the sea for a very long time. He talks about what happened in school before winter break. He talks about how is friends are mean, how they say his eyes are too small. He talks about how unathletic he is (look, sea! I don’t even have muscles!), and thinks of exercising more. He knows that the sea is listening. The sea is smiling at him all the time, waving.

Suddenly, the sea stops. The sea stops waving. Jinki notices. He blinks, and pushes himself up. Dusts off the shavings from his clothes and asks, sea? What’s wrong?

A big wave erupts. That is not the normal wave the sea gives him. He is scared. More waves are coming. Beckoning him over.

And then, the sea stops. There are no more waves. Jinki stands there, unmoving. He is confused.

Then he finds a bottle. Through his small, crinkled eyes, he sees it. Swimming around the sea. Then it reaches the snow, where the sand used to be before winter. It is not big, nor is it small. Jinki stares at it.

It’s moving! The bottle is moving!

Jinki screams. In a minute, he runs back to the cottage and wails to his mother, (Jinki, what’s wrong? Don’t be whimsy, dear, bottles can’t move!), leaving the sea behind again.

*

Jinki dreams in his sleep that night.

The sea is talking to him. Actually talking, not how usually it says nothing at all. The sea smiles at him. Saying,

Bring the bottle home, Jinki. It’s a Christmas gift. Thank you for being my friend.

*

Jinki lets his boots sink in the snow. The wind is cold, pushing at him, threatening him to fall down. He has never been this close to the sea, ever since summer. He thinks that it is a bad idea. But then, he wants to apologise to the sea. He left it again, for a day. But then he remembers about the bottle.

He finds it, half-in the snow. He is three steps away from the bottle. He cranes his neck and looks through the transparent glass.

There is something inside the bottle, oh, so the bottle is not the one moving! It’s the thingy inside!, then swallows his inner coward, approaching the bottle.

He is across two steps. He can see it clearly now, through the strong wind. He gasps.

It’s a tiny boy!

He does not scream this time.

*

Jinki manages to sneak in back to his room without his parents knowing. He pushes away his pencils and chicken drawings to the far end of the desk, mumbling apologies, then places the bottle on the middle. There is a tiny boy inside, the size of a pencil, staring back at him, eyes as dark as the night, but soft like the snow. He is wearing a big coat over him, with a soccer outfit underneath. Jinki finds that odd.

Jinki crosses his arms, then angles his head on top. He stares back at the boy. He is not sure of what to do.

Sea, he whispers quietly, so his mother won’t hear, is that you?

Sea does not respond. He just stares back into his hazel eyes, with no smile, with no wave. Jinki is paralyzed after locking gazes with the sea. His eyes are dark, and deep with emotion. But Jinki did not know what it was wondering about.

Then its mouth opens.

Minho, he says, voice toned down in a whisper, I am Minho.