beyOnd

Chapter Three

We stepped out the art hall, with the sun already setting before us upon our arrival. Such ravishment that our eyes laid upon, wishing that I could never look away. Wook-jin took a very step forward, leaning over the bricked windowsill.

With shades of vermilion alongside ochre, a streak of sunlight whispered against his clear skin, tracing over that quantity of midnight black hair which draped over his eyes like curtains on the edges of a window. Those coal grey eyes then turn to face me.

“You know, I honestly don’t understand why I ever decided to choose this school,” he spoke, “It was predominantly my father who chose this school. I was just…there. At the back. Watching him make an enrollment file for my joining.”

“Hm. So you never wanted to come here?”

“Not really, no.”

“I guess we’re even here,” I breathed. “I never really wanted to join this place neither. Yet since I were some age around 11, my father had already planned that Shimseng High would be my school once I finish Primary.”

“I see…” said he. “What was your father like?”

I laughed a bit. “He’s…not really the best type of father you could imagine. He’s always enjoying a glass of soju while I’m at school. When I come home…he can be pretty…abusive, if I have to tell.”

“Oh, I apologize,” those coal eyes gave me a shocked look, most like not used with such words I’d spoken. “You shouldn’t have told me if you weren’t comfortable.”

“No, no. It’s alright. I never really got to tell this to anyone anyway. You were the first.”

“How are you so…calm with it though?”

“I guess it’s normal. It’s nothing, really.” Rosy lips pouted with sympathy, heart seeming laden with sadness. I wish I never had to see those beauty of his coal grey eyes seeming so agonizing, causing my fast paced heart to feel so abnormally heavy. I sigh. “Anyway, shall we leave now?”

“Yes, of course.” With those strong, vein-covered hands, he pushed himself off the windowsill. Occasionally, after around every 10 steps we took in synchronous moves, that vermilion and ochre mixture of sunlight would graze upon our skin.

As we walked further into the hallway, I then see a group of 4 – 5 men standing at the other side. It was Pil-do and his friends, I was sure of that. I could hear his voice throughout their horrible laughter, as it was deep and strong, unlike the rest of them. Anyone would know that voice. Except one…which is Wook-jin. He’s still new, so he doesn’t know what goes on…

Immediately, I come into an abrupt halt, stopping Wook-jin in his tracks along with me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. My gaze then slowly shifts to his, and he could tell that there was a frightened expression that played on my face. It’d just gotten too obvious.

“We…need to take another route,” I say, still not explaining to him what was wrong.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I don’t want to put you in danger,” I said sternly. “I know it might not seem like much, but the group at the end of the hall…they always try to come at me. And it’s not like I’m afraid of them. I’m just…tired of them…” Again, he looks at me with a specific gaze that I just can’t make out, yet it’s still readable.

“But…you shouldn’t be,” he finally said. “You shouldn’t care about what others think of you. All it would do is just destroy you. You should just…ignore them. That way’s faster anyway…So all you have to do is not mind them and simply walk past, alright?”

“…Yeah,” I muttered. Again, that sweet smile plays on his lips and he makes a gesture with his hand, holding it open as though he wanted me to hold it. Slowly, we slid our hand into each other’s, palms grasping one another’s till our knuckles grew red. Immediately, he walks up to the group and swiftly passes through them in a breeze.

Anxiety had started kicking in the closer we got to them, yet Wook-jin seemed fearless; confident, almost. It was like he could deal with anything, whether it was death, or if it were abuse. Yet right when we walked through their little “crowd,” it felt as though nothing happened. It was almost as if the anxiety had completely gone, and it was like we just walked through an empty hallway.

“See,” he said to me in a whisper. “that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I tried to put up a smile, but I could still hear the group talking about me from behind. I know I was told that I shouldn’t mind it…but I can’t help it. Their remarks were just too unbearable to ignore.

“Guys, look,” the first guy said. “Looks like Yongsoo has already gotten close to the new kid, eh?” The others then let out a haughty laugh, as if they were know-it-alls.

“That’s the problem with him. He gets too clingy sometimes,” the second guy said.

“Nah, that’s completely a lie,” Pil-do said. “Literally, just this morning, he didn’t give me the ₩20,000 I asked for! That is most definitely not clingy.”

“He didn’t give you the money?” some guy in his friend group said. Yet all their words started to become this muffled voice that I just couldn’t make out. I wanted to ignore them as well as I could, yet it didn’t seem to work too well.

“Don’t mind them,” Wook-jin whispered to me. “They’re just these selfish bastards who thinks what they want to think.” Still, I can’t manage to find a reply. I just want to stay silent. Who are they to talk about me like that?

The both of us walk back out, still hand in hand. Sure, I might’ve had an enjoyable time in there, yet I still can’t get over the fact that Pil-do was still in. He should’ve though. It was already late, and he would have to be at home by then. It was like he knew I would be in late today; as though everything was planned.

“I’m sorry you had to got through those kids,” I tell him.

“Why should you apologize?” he asked me in return.

“Because it was my fault that you had to see them,” I said. “It was me who suggested to go to the art room last…which led to meeting them…”

“It’s not your fault,” he said as he patted my back. “you didn’t know they were going to be here.” He pauses for a while, taking a deep breath out. “Shall we go home now?”

“Yeah…” I said. Yet I didn’t want to go home that soon. I hated home more than school, in fact. Father…he was always an abuser. I would suggest it had all began some time around 7 years ago. When Mother passed away because of a car crash. He told me it had been my mistake that I killed her. I was the cause of her death.

At some very moments, he’d get so absolutely drunk that those wine and soju bottles he’d drank would later be used on me. He’d strike me on the head so inevitably hard that I’d faint onto the hard, wooden ground of my apartment.

I don’t even know how many scars I got from it. All I do know was that I once got a scar right at the top of my head, which was where a shard of glass completely stabbed through. I don’t even know how I survived that, but I guess it was because I took the glass out immediately and patched it up before I started over bleeding.

All of this happened in the past; almost 7 years ago. It’s nothing I should be worrying about at the moment. Past memories should just be left behind. You can’t go back to them anymore.

“What direction are you headed to?” Wook-jin asked.

“This way,” I said, pointing to my right. “I’m taking the bus back home.”

“Oh, same!” he exclaimed. “Shall we go together then?”

“Yeah, sure.” We both then walk together to the bus stop in complete silence. We must’ve been so incredibly caught with words that nothing would manage to reach our throat. The silence, so horribly loud, almost so unbearable that my ears would start ringing. All that was heard were the sounds of cars drifting in the distance against the asphalt roads of Busan, alongside the flaps of a bird’s wings in the air.

“So…” I start, breaking our unbearable silence. “when did you move here?”

“Oh, I moved into town last week,” he told me. “I’ve been pretty busy with housework, so I didn’t have much time to enroll into a school.”

“So you moved all the way here by yourself?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t you find it lonely living all alone like that?” I ask.

“Nah, not really…because I’ve got you now!”

“…me?”

“Yeah!” he exclaimed. And just then, we had also just reached the bus stop. “We’re friends now, aren’t we?” he asked, holding out a hand to me indicating for a handshake.

“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” I said, shaking his hand as I do. The bus, it’s greyish blue color gleaming against the sunset’s light, pulls up upon our arrival of the bus stop, doors folding open to reveal an emptied, even more silent, bus. A small “beep!” had been made by my card on the scanner, filling that silence for such a ephemeral time.

Old, yellowed seats lined the inside of the bus in a pattern of 2 by 2 seats each. With slow, gentle steps, I walked further into the bus and seated myself on one of the filthy seats that waited for my arrival. The ride had been so horribly bumpy and unpleasant, yet the constant rocking of the bus had gotten me tired.

Still, I kept myself awake. “For some reason, Father told me that I’d be getting my driver’s license soon. I don’t know how, but I guess it’s because I reached the age of getting my license,” Wook-jin’s deepened voice spoke.

“So early?”

“Yeah. He said he’d get me a car soon. I don’t know which one though.”

“Lucky you.”

“Maybe by the time I get my car, the two of us don’t have to take the bus anymore. I can drop you off if you’d like.”

“That…would be nice.” Eyelids getting heavy, my head droops low, feelings and consciousness leaving me in the blink of an eye.

Wook-jin takes a brief glance at me, then back to his phone. “You tired?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said in return, “I’ve had a long day…”

“I get it. If you want you can sleep. I’ll wake you up when we reach.”

“Okay, remember that my stop is 12 stops from now.”

“Got it,” he said as he gave me a little salute. Slowly, my eyes start to close and (as a completely unintentional move) I rest my head on the broad shoulders beside me. He wouldn’t mind, would he?

Though my eyes were shut, I could still tell what was going on around me. Those thin, whispery fingertips glided along my hair in such a gentle motion, sending down a spark of thrill in my chest whenever he’d lay those hands against every little strand of my hair. Suddenly, the caressing stopped, and he seemed to have gone completely still. “Yongsoo?” he asked. “Are you still awake?”

“yeah…” I said, my voice sounding tired and drowsy.

“Well if you’re comfortable telling me this…may I ask where you got this scar at the top of your head from?”

“Ah, that…” I muttered as my eyes softly opened. “it…was my dad who did that. He smashed a bottle onto my head a few years ago…all because he just drank too much that day.”

“Well that’s just unpleasant,” he said in a disappointed tone. His silence so loud, urging me not to break it. My eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep, while my breaths becoming much lighter like a boulder had just been lifted off me. Again, those fingertips ran through my limp, thin hair, whispering just right above my scalp. “I’ll let you sleep now…” he muttered to what seemed like himself.