# O for Onions:

It was the last day before they moved out. From tomorrow onward, each of them would start leaving on his own, but no longer sharing the dormitory life together. They had all finished packing, except for the kitchen which was still left askew with some cooking utensils. The apartment looked so empty then. Where used to place their shoe racks was nothing but giant shelves covered in dust and sand. Where used to place the sofa, on which they often sat playing games or watching television together, was then a big empty space that almost left a hole in Jungshin’s heart. Their luggages were here and there; their instruments were leaning on each other like vagrants lost on their path. Jungshin suddenly felt like he was shrinking, but only because his surrounding kept getting bigger.

Yonghwa had suggested eating out, but for the first time Jungshin did not want to follow his brother’s order.

“Can we cook for one last time?”, he murmured, grabbing Jonghyun’s arm as he turned to leave.

They decided to have dinner with Japanese curry. Jungshin peeled an onion, then started chopping it up. Each time the knife sliced down it was as if himself that was being slitted apart. His eyes gradually swell and turned red, hot like they were burning. The world around him became a smoky haze that melted into colorlessness. Drops of water started flowing out; when he blinked they fell from his eyelashes as inflamed as rubbing on an open wound. Jungshin wiped his eyes, turned to Jonghyun shrieking with laughter.

“That’s why I hate onions, you know.”

They were not tears, just onions.