A silver of light crept in through the slightly ajar curtains, signalling the start of a new day. Chanhee creaked open his eyelids, twitching as the headache from yesterday returned. Habitually, he extended a bony arm, patting the other side of the bed as if he would find something, or someone, cocooned in a thick layer of linen along with the sound of light snores penetrating the snug blanket. It was cold, empty, untouched - just as he left it - not even a dip to mark the presence of another person. Of course he wouldn’t be there - or more like he couldn’t - as much as he prayed.

“Good morning,” Chanhee greeted, only to be answered by sheer silence.

Roughly snatching a pair of jeans and a beige pullover off the rack, he threw them on with the exact amount of force, messing his uneven short blonde locks in the process. A fleeting glance at the full-length mirror told him that there hasn’t been improvement in his condition, if not worse. His face was ghostly pale; dark circles highlighted the bottom rim of his eyes, his lips and skin were chapped and incredibly dry, losing all sense of colour. His scrawny figure also indicated irregular eating patterns, coming dangerously close to anorexia.

Chanhee lived in a double-storey terrace, evidently large for a lone man. The building housed three bedrooms, two living areas, a kitchen, and a dining area. It was a big, big house, and Chanhee wondered what made them decide to purchase the residence in the first place. The house only got bigger and bigger as the years passed, but he had no thoughts on disposing off the abode for a smaller one; here, was where those memories were created, and here, was where those wonderful times came to life. The haunting feeling was strongest in this building, and he loved it, although he suffered immensely from its consequences. He found peace in this residency; nothing could be worthy of trade for such serenity.

However, the house was not considered home, not to Chanhee at least.

Chanhee secured the bolt and latched a lock onto the iron grill that jailed the chestnut coloured pine door, tugging for the second time to ensure the safety of their house. Today, he determined. Today would be the day he swapped the house for a treasure he would hold more dearly.

Chanhee lazily strolled down the streets of Seoul, both hands jammed in his side pockets, eyes scrutinizing the pavement as he walked, tousled hair shadowing his prominent facial features from the outside world, preventing them from identifying their mystery neighbour. A few audacious little children swerved passed, curiosity getting the better of them, trying to catch a glimpse of Chanhee’s face. Finally aware of the attention he garnered, Chanhee quickened his pace, practically leaping down the slopes to his destination.

Chanhee pushed through the transparent glass, the golden bell above pealed as he did so – the familiar high pitched chime sounded like music to his ears. Immediately upon arrival at the neighbourhood café, he headed towards the counter, ignoring the long line of customers who were waiting impatiently to be served, earning muffled complains and grim expressions from the unfriendly business people dressed in formal working attires. Those who were regulars at this particular family-owned business recognized Chanhee and waved. The members of the business called out his name affectionately when he breezed past them as if he belonged in their family. He shot them a shy smile in return, averting eye contact as much as possible, refusing to meet their stare for any longer than a second.

“Changhyun,” Chanhee spoke when a teenage boy who had his hair tidily gelled in an uneven side parting came forward to serve the customers. “The usual, please.”

“Jonghyun had a hard time starting up the coffee machine this morning; you might have to wait a tad bit longer. The kitchen staffs are awfully busy.” Changhyun flashed a sheepish grin and jabbed his index finger at the empty tables to the right. “Have a seat. I’ll bring the order to your seat when it’s ready. It’ll only take a jiffy, so don’t worry.”

A complication in Chanhee’s routine made him frown; hiccups were never welcomed, but nonetheless he approached the waiting area as Changhyun directed. He was fond of the place, and usually wouldn’t mind sparing a few minutes to enjoy the soothing atmosphere in the café, but today of all days he had a schedule to follow. He sighed; a little throwback couldn’t possibly hurt, right?

None of the installed lightings were switched on; since it was early afternoon, the owner of the cafe - his best friend Minsoo - opted to use natural sunlight as an alternative. The decision was wise; saving for a rainy day while preserving the Earth’s resources. Chanhee rested his eyes. With one of his senses dulled, the others were enhanced. A fresh batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies – the café’s specialty, exited the oven. He heard the soft ‘ding’ emitted from the heated machine. He could also smell rich coffee aromas of all sorts lingering in the air, tickling his nostrils, tempting him to order a cup for himself. He restrained his desire, gently reminding himself of the initial reason as to why he quit drinking the dark brown liquid; he couldn’t afford another obstacle in his way of a good night’s sleep. Yesterday’s slumber was lengthy and better than what he had been experiencing over the past few years. One mistake and he could be back to square one: tackling insomnia with the doctors.

“Channie,” Changhyun tapped him on the shoulder, jolting Chanhee from his temporary nap. “A steaming cup of hot chocolate with a dash of whipped cream, a dozen potato buns, accompanied by a slice of black forest cake; orders up!”

“What’s this?” Chanhee peeked at the paper bag’s contents, surprised to find an extra blueberry muffin. He frowned once again; surprises were also not welcomed in his usual routines.

“A muffin for our café’s very own Mary Poppins; our beloved regular customer who never gives up on us no matter how devilish our sweets and cakes may be!” Changhyun inclined closer and winked at Chanhee. “Jonghyun says it’s complementary. In fact, the whole meal is on the house!”

Chanhee was about to protest; he considered notifying Changhyun that today would be his last visit to the café, but Changhyun interrupted first, “Shh! Don’t tell Uncle Daniel! He doesn’t know you’re here yet. I swear, he throws a fit when we don’t inform him of your arrival. Wait till he sees what we’re feeding you! He’ll give me hell for only gifting you with a pathetic blueberry muffin!”

Changhyun dragged Chanhee out of his seat and prodded him to the exit. “No need to thank me! I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, the day after that, the day after next, and the many more days to come!” Changhyun grinned cheekily. “I forgot to ask if you actually like blueberry muffins, so let him have it if you can’t stand the blues! Get it? Get it?”

Chanhee almost forgot the entire café staffs have met him. How could he, when the café was his very favourite place to have tea? A small smile crept up Chanhee’s face. “He’ll love it. I’ll see you tomorrow, Changhyun. Bye!”

Chanhee loved Changhyun. He loved Daniel and Jonghyun equally as well. In fact, he loved the whole family as if they were his own. The café gave him a sense of belonging. He knew no knowledge of bakery and whatnots, but they included him in social gatherings and parties of all sorts, trying to get him involved in activities they enjoyed, hoping that he would one day open up to them.

However, the café was not considered home, not to Chanhee at least.

By then, the fiery sun was high up in the sky, warming up a fairly cold winter day. Chanhee raised his palm to block out the rays of light, unable to withstand direct perception of an object so bright. As he neared the park, the sunlight diminished, in which he was glad as it was the final destination of the day, and he could relax in his final moments.

Chanhee wandered the spacious area of greenery searching for the pristine white landmark which was known as the ‘Spark of trouble’ to Chanhee. It was there, that he met him; it was there, that they spoke for the first time of their lives. He could remember it clearly as if it happened just yesterday. Suppressing the reminiscence, he waddled over to the bench and started munching on his black forest cake, sipping on his hot chocolate occasionally between bites, until he was done with his meal. 

On cue, birds flew from all directions and parked on the grassy plains in front of him. They cocked their heads, waiting for Chanhee to play his part. He fed the bird tiny pinches of potato bun fluffs, having fun teasing the birds and pretending to be a circus master who was training his animals. He laughed; he was much better at taming the birds. They would often spend time observing the colourful species of birds as they fed them the potato buns. He was a man who knew his birds, frequently offering to pass on the knowledge to Chanhee, but he would always settle with hearing him explain the birds to no one in particular, watching from the sidelines. If it weren’t too late, Chanhee would like to hear another one of his lectures before the day ended; he could deepen his bond with his feathery friends and play with them all day long.

However, the park was not considered home, not to Chanhee at least.

Chanhee lugged his legs to the very edge of the cliff, in one hand he held the blue berry muffin, and the other was balled into a fist. For about half an hour, he stood upright, as still as an electric pole. The ocean breeze didn’t bug him, neither did the cry of the seagulls bother him. Before him, was a palette of colours, beautifully mashed into an explosion called the sunset. The outburst of splendid dark orange and yellow did not contrast the sea, but overpowered and stained the harsh waves with bombs of scarlet. It evoked thoughts of the ocean filled with crimson blood and that prompted him to contribute to the addition.

However, the skies and the ocean were not considered home, not to Chanhee at least.

Where was home?

Chanhee knew perfectly well where it was located. Someone once told him, that ‘Home is where the heart is’. At that point of life, he could not understand. He had found home in his double-storey terrace, he had found home in the neighbourhood café, he had found home at the park, and he could also find home in the oceans and the skies. Living so fortunately, being able to see ‘home’ everywhere was a blessing. Blinded by the happiness, he forgot that he had lived with him in the double-storey terrace, that he had visited the café with him every day, that he had accompanied him to the park, and that together they had their fingers entwined while watching the sunset.

He was always there; home was always right by Chanhee's side, protecting him whenever he needed the help. So when one day home crumbled, home disappeared, home was no longer an existent object, Chanhee started to realize the importance of home, and how he shouldn’t have taken him for granted. Because, without a home, where were you supposed to return to? Without a home, where could you hide? Without a home, how were you so sure that you were safe?

His death, acted as an eye-opener for Chanhee. He realized how he shouldn’t have taken his beloveds for granted, how every moment spent with them was precious, that it cannot be replicated. Chanhee was a smart young lad; he learned from his mistakes. He realized that he couldn’t do without a home, and so he decided to return. Home was too precious to lose. 

The problem was, the one who told him 'Home is where the heart is' was long dead; the one who gave him that particular advice was currently holding on to his heart.

Now how was he supposed to find home?

Much to Chanhee's surprise, it was fairly easy. 

Simply by taking a huge step forward, Chanhee was finally reunited with him, the one he considered home.

The fall was short and quick, guiding Chanhee to home in no time. He smiled, having accomplished his long awaited goal.

“I’m coming home, Byunghun.”