Hearing the fierce question, Kim Jiho let out a deep breath that his shoulders heaved, as though he had anticipated it, and then parted his lips.
“I bumped into the door. I was trying to get in and it opened.”
Yeon Woojeong searched Kim Jiho’s face, and it didn’t seem like he was lying. However, he shouldn’t let his guard down. Yeon Woojeong intently read Kim Jiho’s face.
“I wouldn’t know about this if I hadn’t come today then.”
“That’s—”
“What? You wanted to put me in your situation?”
Even if it was an assault, Kim Jiho might have kept his mouth shut. To prevent that from happening in the future, and because Yeon Woojeong was pretty pissed off, he clearly made a sarcastic remark, and Kim Jiho pursed his lips and suddenly frowned.
“Why did you say that? You know it’s not like that.”
His voice was full of bitterness. Kim Jiho glared at Yeon Woojeong, apparently didn’t like Yeon Woojeong’s way of talking when he was the first to do wrong.
“I simply bumped the door. It wasn’t that painful and it’s not that major an injury like you.”
“There’s nothing major or minor about you getting hurt.”
“…”
Kim Jiho’s face soon eased as he heard Yeon Woojeong’s low and calm voice. His eyes, which looked quite sharp when he frowned, curved down. Kim Jiho reached out and fiddled with Yeon Woojeong’s hand.
“It only hurt a little when I bumped into it, and then I didn’t even realize I had a bruise. I swear.”
The bruise on the white face would surely stand out. He didn’t realize that he had it? He was really determined to play it coy at times like this. Though it was even more frustrating because Kim Jiho didn’t do it purposely, Yeon Woojeong eventually smiled. Seeing that smile, Kim Jiho grabbed Yeon Woojeong’s hand, looking relieved, and Yeon Woojeong lifted his free hand and touched the bruised cheek.
“Did you really bump into the door?”
“Yeah. He said sorry and gave me ten choco pies.”
“It must be hurt if it leaves a bruise.”
“It didn’t hurt much.”
Kim Jiho stared at Yeon Woojeong and then carefully kissed him on the lips. It was like he was asking for reconciliation. This couldn’t be counted as a fight, or that he was angry, but Yeon Woojeong pulled his hand in Kim Jiho’s and kissed his cheekbone.
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
Yeon Woojeong made sure Kim Jiho had his seatbelt on and drove off. He was glad it ended with nothing more than a bruise. He reached out to touch Kim Jiho’s cheekbone, and Kim Jiho grabbed his fingers and squeezed them tightly.
It took a while to get to their destination. Kim Jiho couldn’t stop talking about what happened after the bruise as if he felt relieved after getting his secret out. He told Yeon Woojeong how irritated he was that everyone he met talked about his bruise, and how annoyed he was that he kept getting pestered about who harassed him.
In the meantime, they arrived at their destination. After parking the car in the parking lot, they walked through the entrance. As it was a weekend, there were a lot of people, but not as many as he had feared. Upon passing the promotion stand, there was a field of sunflowers. Beyond the field was a low wall. Although it was a historical site, an annual sunflower festival was held here, and it was very popular.
“I’ve never seen so many sunflowers.”
Kim Jiho looked around admiringly. It was the end of summer and the petals had fallen a bit, but the sunflowers were still holding up all around. People were taking pictures amidst the yellow waves under the sunny sky.
“Stand there.”
After pushing Kim Jiho to the front of the sunflowers, Yeon Woojeong stepped back and took out his phone. Being a soldier, Kim Jiho looked at the camera with a stiff pose. When Yeon Woojeong peeked out behind his phone, saying, “You should smile,” the corner of his lips went up. It would have been better if Kim Jiho wore beautiful clothes, but the military uniform wasn’t bad either. After all, there weren’t many days left for him to take pictures in that attire.
Having taken a few pictures, Yeon Woojeong led Kim Jiho further inside, where there were fewer people around. Kim Jiho said the sunflowers were big, his fingers nudged the stem. Yeon Woojeong watched Kim Jiho and then asked him.
“Do you know what sunflower means in the language of flowers?”
“… Devotion?”
“Really?”
“You didn’t ask because you already knew?”
“I only asked for no reason.”
As Yeon Woojeong shrugged, Kim Jiho took out his phone and typed “sunflower flower language” into the portal. Devotion, worship, waiting. The results were fitting for a sunflower looking at the sun.
“You’re right. How did you know?”
“It’s in the Greek and Roman Mythology.”
“Aha.”
“But that story was bad.”
“Why?”
“It didn’t end well. Everyone turned into flowers there.”
Kim Jiho didn’t like stories that didn’t have happy endings. Still, if the plot was good, he was willing to read even if it had a bad ending, so it seemed that he didn’t like the plot of that story as well.
“But isn’t it interesting to make a flower language out of a tragic story and use it romantically?”
“Romantically?”
“When you get a flower, you’ll think of its language and like it, you won’t think of the story behind it.”
“You’re right. That’s weird.”
Kim Jiho nodded, and his face brightened. Maybe he came to like that story a little bit. Yeon Woojeong, smiling, took a step ahead, and Kim Jiho followed him.
“Shall we come here again? On weekdays when we have time? It’ll be better when there are no other people, don’t you think?”
“Hmm, it’s good now, too.”
Kim Jiho looked around coolly. Under the sunlight, the yellowish bruise that stained his white face caught his gaze again. Yeon Woojeong poked that bruise with his finger.
“You have a flower blooming here.”
“Uh?”
Kim Jiho blinked his eyes for a while, dazed, and then snorted as he touched his cheekbone. After that, he looked at Yeon Woojeong, seemingly musing about something, before touching Yeon Woojeong’s lower lip.
“You have it here.”
Your lips are redder tho. Yeon Woojeong smirked and lightly bit Kim Jiho’s finger. Kim Jiho flinched and curled his fingers.
The two walked again, slowly treading their way through the sunflower fields and up the hill. The ground wasn’t that high, but it offered a panoramic view of the landscape. Green grass and trees, a sun-bathed river, and pinwheels spinning eagerly in one place.
As Yeon Woojeong took a seat, Kim Jiho also plopped down next to him. The two stared ahead in silence. The wind grazed around them coolly. After being like that for a while, Kim Jiho’s head landed on Yeon Woojeong’s shoulder.
“Mr. Yeon, it’s almost time.”
“Yeah, right.”
Yeon Woojeong lifted his hand and patted Kim Jiho’s cheek.
“You held up well.”
They were both doing well, but they both wanted nothing more than to be back in each other’s arms entirely. Kim Jiho turned his head and buried his lips in Yeon Woojeong’s shoulder. He whispered something, but Yeon Woojeong couldn’t hear it. However, he thought he knew what he wanted to say, so he just patted his head.
***
Yeon Woojeong had a dream. It was a dream in which Kim Jiho was watching something intently. A movie was playing on the screen, with the two of them as the main characters. Following Kim Jiho who focused on the movie, Yeon Woojeong also watched it. The movie ended with an open ending that hinted at a happy ending.
Kim Jiho watched the end credit roll before turning his head.
“I like this one.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. The rest of the story is ours after all.”
At the end of his firm voice, he smiled, as if he wasn’t afraid of the unknown story that lay ahead. At the same time, Yeon Woojeong woke up from his dream.
The dream kept haunting his mind. He felt like the real Kim Jiho would probably say the same thing. After waking up, he missed him. Luckily, today was Kim Jiho’s discharge day. It had been a really long time. Yeon Woojeong chuckled to himself, thankful that this wouldn’t happen twice.
The closer he got to the destination, the more his fingers tapped on the steering wheel. It was a weekday morning and Yeon Woojeong had to go to work, so Kim Jiho was waiting outside the station. Every time Yeon Woojeong stopped at the traffic light, his heart became impatient.
Yeon Woojeong thought that maybe it wouldn’t be until they were together for a week that it would really sink in; the satisfaction of waking up in the morning and knowing that Kim Jiho was always there.
They had a lot of future together. If it was made into a movie, it would be a story that would never end. When he looked at it sometimes and reviewed it, he wondered if it would be a good story. People say that they are the protagonist of their own life, but he once wondered if the backstory that even the protagonist didn’t want to know was really his. What is the ending of the narrative of life, and do people race to it, hoping and expecting that ending……
He didn’t find the answer, but one thing changed. This story had become their story, and he wasn’t the only one who was the owner and protagonist of his life. The same goes for Kim Jiho’s story.
The station drew nearer, and standing in front of it, the shiniest of turning points awaited him.
Yeon Woojeong parked his car and stepped out. The man, who seemed to be the only one under the lights in the crowd of people coming and going from the station, looked back at him. Their eyes locked, and they quickly took a step forward.
Yeon Woojeong and Kim Jiho hugged each other tightly. The relief, joy, and excitement that Kim Jiho felt at their perfect reunion seeped into their embrace. Holding Kim Jiho, who was breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon, Yeon Woojeong smiled from ear to ear.
“Good job.”
Hearing the lowly spoken words, Kim Jiho took a step back and slipped a bouquet into Yeon Woojeong’s arms. It was a bouquet of four untrimmed sunflowers. Suddenly, Yeon Woojeong remembered a conversation they’d had one day, on the border between summer and fall.
He dropped his head. The petals touched his forehead and tickled his skin. The faint scent of flowers wafted through the air.
“Ah…”
He couldn’t help but smile. Nothing could be more endearing than this person. Yeon Woojeong laughed, his shoulders shaking, and then looked up. Kim Jiho’s face, which had been staring at nothing but him since he arrived, bloomed brighter than the flowers.
One thing was certain. Someday, much later, when the story was over and the end credits rolled, the man in front of him would be the one whose name would adorn the beginning and the ending. And they would be the ones to watch, and this moment was just a page in a long, long story. One where no part of it was not important.
