Hanbin’s stare was riveted on Hayi’s eyes from the moment she said those words. Her eyes were a lighter shade of brown to his; they were beautifully plain. While staring, he noticed the red around those same eyes, and the boy found himself questioning: just how much did this girl cry?

Hayi nervously avoided Hanbin’s stare in an attempt to deny her vulnerability.

“Say, Hayi,” Spring said, his voice altogether too composed. “Would you like to go anywhere?”

“I’m okay here.”

“I see.”

The boy scooted over on the other side of the table and Hayi sat down, legs crossed, just beside him. The two of them sat in silence, gazing down at the rooftop concrete. The raindrops didn’t seem to stop falling. And so they spent a long time collecting their thoughts.

Hanbin lit another a cigarette, and as he took a drag he broke the silence. “My name’s Hanbin. You can call me that instead of Spring.”

He sat facing her in silence, feeling as though they were both submerged in the rain falling on the roof. He could barely believe that the moment had finally come. She was in front of him.

“Okay,” Hayi replied. Just what exactly was it with that name—Hanbin—which had set her heart on a strange excitement? She looked at Hanbin for a second, and as if almost out of reflex, her eyes traced his tattoos. While he had mentioned about them once before, seeing them for real still dumbfounded her. The drawings on his skin fascinated her.

He had a tattoo of a compass on top of his hand.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Good luck,” he replied. “I think.”

“Did it hurt?”

“For a while.”

“Why did you do it?”

Hanbin took another drag of his cigarette. “Was it wrong for me to do it?”

“Not at all. I didn’t mean it like that.” A pause, and then she continued. “My little brother—he has ink all over his body—like you. Some piercings as well. He covers them up with bandages and plasters in front of our mother and his friends, so it’s just me who knows.”

“Is it a burden to you?”

“Not really. But here’s the thing,” Hayi explained. “Tattoos, piercings and whatever body modification methods there are—aren’t they meant to be a form of expression?”

“Usually.”

“Exactly. So I think to myself: why does my brother try to cover it up when he expressed it in the first place? Is this some sort of teenage rebellion that I don’t understand anything about? I mean, if my brother doesn’t give me answers, then I’ll have to find it through somebody else, right?”

Hanbin fell silent, thinking about how Hayi was—well—Hayi. Mostly, it was endearing how the girl in front of him talked and sounded exactly like the person on his text messages. He wondered if she felt the same about him, too.

Does he still seem like Spring to her?

“Even if you ask me, there’s still no definite answer to the answer you’re looking for. I’m not your brother after all.”

“I know.”

“But if you want, I can answer your question based on me,” Hanbin returned.

Hayi stopped for a second. And then she fixed her gaze on him. “I’d like that.”

“It was an impulse decision,” he admitted. “Many impulse decisions. It was my way of surviving whenever I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t do it to express myself, Hayi. I did it because the pain that came along with the ink was a form of distraction.”

Hayi skimmed through his marks and holes and found that there was altogether too much. Hanbin smoked the rest of his cigarette and observed her expression.

“I didn’t tell you that so you could pity me.”

“No,” she replied. “I’m not pitying you. I think it’s fascinating—I think they’re beautiful.”

“You’re a weird girl.”

Soon, the darkness of the sky and the rain enfolded them. School was over, but the rain fell and continued falling. Hanbin outstretched his fingers to meet the hard raindrop. He stared at the grey sky for a long time.

“Will you tell me something, Hayi?” he asked, eyes unwavering from the sky above.

“Depends on what it is.”

“Why were you crying?”

She tried to speak, but felt the words catching in .

“Never mind,” Hanbin quickly said. “It’s late. The rain will get heavier later on, so you better go.”

“How about you?”

“I’ll go soon.”

“Will we see each other again?”

“I’ll be here.”

“Hey, Hanbin,” the girl pondered on. “Happy birthday. And I wish I could have done something to make this day a little more special. But thank you for today.”

Hanbin smiled and lit another cigarette with a lighter. “There’s an umbrella below the stairs. Get home safely.”

. . .

My gift to you is this song. I was told my father would play this to get me to sleep when I was a baby. – Hayi

I like it.
Thank you, Hayi. – Spring

And I’m sorry for asking you questions when I couldn’t even answer one of yours. – Hayi

Don’t beat yourself up for it. I have nothing to lose when I tell you things, while you have plenty.
Nevertheless, even if it isn’t me, I hope you do open up to somebody one day. – Spring

I hope so, too.
I’m still sorry for today, Spring. I’ll treat you to something delicious when I get paid from my part time job. Do you like noodles? – Hayi

1) I like noodles.
2) Stop saying sorry.
3) My name is Hanbin. – Spring

But I like the name Spring.
It suits you. – Hayi

I wonder. – Spring

Hey, can I come to the rooftop again tomorrow? – Hayi

The rooftop isn’t mine. It’s always open. – Spring

I know.
I’d like to see you again. That’s all. – Hayi

A warm smile graced Hanbin’s lips. Something wrung his heart with a wonderful sensation, and its effect on him deepened. It had filled his mind with a hopeless and lingering yearning.

. . .

The boy named Jiwon was there again despite what happened the day before. Seeing him there and catching the hint of his apologetic face, Hayi was ready to forgive him. No, scratch that—she was ready to say sorry.

“Lee Hayi!” the boy’s shout echoed the empty library as he caught sight of her. She took her normal spot and looked at the boy. Her complexion was back to normal. “Listen, I’m sor—”

“I’m sorry,” she cut in. “For leaving like that.”

“But—”

“Food poisoning,” Hayi lied. “That’s what it was. I think I ate something bad and it made me sick.”

Silence.

“I saw you go to the rooftop,” he remarked.

“Yeah. Fresh air.”

“Ah. But did you see him?”

“See who?”

“A boy usually sits there,” Jiwon answered. “He’s from my class. He often goes up there to smoke.”

“I didn't see him.”

“Hm.”

Hayi stood up. “Then, I'll see you around.”

“Are you not staying here?”

“I left something in my classroom, so I’ll probably just stay there.”

Jiwon raised his head and looked at her closely. “You’re not trying to avoid me, are you?”

Hayi scoffed. “You’re not that special.”

When she suddenly said those words, his heart leapt. For just an instant, Jiwon felt he was falling in love with this girl, despite the fact her world was so much different to the world he was living in. And how he never understood what happens inside her mind when she turns her thoughts into words. Or how he didn’t know nearly anything about her.

But just like the skies are blue, and roses are red, and the grass is green, and the leaves turn brown, and the seasons were changing: Jiwon was falling in love.

. . .

“Let’s play a game, Hayi,” Hanbin proposed. “It’s our second time meeting.”

“But what game?”

“Firsts.”

“I’ve never played.”

“Okay,” the boy said, crushing his cigarette on the ashtray. “Then, I’ll start. My first time drinking alcohol: I was thirteen. My cousin’s girlfriend broke up with him and we drank beer at his house. Just him and me. How about you?”

“A year ago. I was sixteen,” she answered. “At some karaoke bar with people from my class.”

“Okay, so it’s your turn.”

“Hmm. First book we’ve ever read. Me, The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

Hanbin laughed. “Me, too!”

“Your turn it is, then,” Hayi said, smiling.

“First cigarette. Me, fourteen, I hated it back then.”

“What happens in the game when you’ve never had a first of it?”

Hanbin lit a cigarette and gave it to Hayi. “You try it. Either that or I flick you on the forehead. Hard.”

She took a small drag, a very small one, and then she coughed it out in hysterics. The smoke was much denser than how Hayi saw it whenever it came out of Hanbin’s mouth. They both laughed.

“It’s disgusting.”

Hanbin chuckled. “It is, isn’t it?”

“But it’s your turn.”

“First kiss,” he said. A pause, and then he continued, “I was sixteen. I kissed Kim Jennie. It was a warm night in summer, I guess. And it happened in front of her house, I was nervous in case her father saw but I made the first move anyway. How about you?”

Silence ensued for a long time as Hayi thought about it.

“Now, now, you’re not making it up on the spot, are you?” Hanbin teased. “I won’t judge you.”

Hayi smiled, her lips curved again. “About two years ago. There was a new boy in my class. He was the mature type—”

“A rare kind amongst high school boys, huh.”

“I guess you could say that. But all the girls seemed to like him. I mean, I guess I kind of liked him as well in a way that he was nice to stare at, you know? Nothing more than that, though…”

Hayi stopped. Hanbin kept silent and waited for her to continue.

“...One day, I stayed behind in the classroom after school to catch up with some work, and when I was ready to leave, he was just stood there. I hadn’t noticed he was there all along. We talked for a short time; about school work, mostly. And then it happened. He just… you know—he just kissed me.”

Some thoughts raced through Hanbin’s head. “What was his name?”

“Ah, damn,” Hayi suddenly said, forcing a smile. The thing with Lee Hayi, she was too beautiful that even her fake smiles were convincing. But Hanbin looked past this beauty of hers—he could read her face like an open book. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that, you know?”

“What was his name?” Hanbin repeated his question without missing a beat.

They were still and quiet. The wind continued sweeping past them while the countless leaves of the zelkova tree rustled below the rooftop. The girl fixed her stare from the ground to the clouds.

“Im Jaebum. Homeroom teacher of class 1-3.”

Hanbin memorized Hayi's face.

“Did... he do anything else to you?”

Hayi didn’t say anything anymore.

And in her silence, he found his answer.

. . .

shadow // two strangers in the dark