treasure imagines

one summer love (1) || asahi

— plot. in a rundown library, asahi picks up an old diary dated decades ago that documented a girl's innocent romance towards a boy in the summertime.

one summer in the year '21.

THE SUMMER HEAT WAS UNBEARABLE. a young boy was sitting behind the dark oak counter, his mid parted bangs blew and stuck back to his forehead in front of the cool breeze of the air coming from the electric fan. he occasionally tugged the collar of his plain white t-shirt as he mumbled complaints about the rising temperature.

he was currently filling in a shift of a friend, who worked in this library that was allegedly the oldest in the area, after they fell sick. he was tempted to say 'only idiots catch cold in the summer' but he didn't. because it was a strange coincidence that he was also looking for a job to pay for his miscellaneous fees in college, and he offered to be a replacement for a few days.

this library, no matter how cute it  sounded and looked on the outside, was in horrible condition. there was no air conditioner, promoting a natural air only movement with the windows all open wide. but, for god sake, asahi muttered again. it was summer. air did not blow. the leaves did not rustle. he was dying of heat.

the lights were so dim that the brightest afternoon day could look like night in the library from a mile away. 

it took up a small space in a street that was a district known for selling flowers, which was probably the only good thing about this place. the fragrance of the blossoming florals that mixed with the distinct scent of pages and books had kept asahi sane.

the bookshelves were almost sticking next to each other, giving barely any walking space. every level of the shelves were stuffed to the brim with books, obviously, what else would a library store except for books?

moreover, the books were not organized in alphabetical order; that should be illegal in a library.

all these books were published and dated years before the young part-timer replacement was born. some even before his parents were born. probably some before his grandparents were born.

some covers and spines with supposedly writings and illustrations of the title were faded and unintelligible.

another fact that he could not distinguish if it was good or bad, was that not a single soul had come in ever since he started working.

it was a mostly tranquil shift. the devil of a sun was mocking the poor boy and grinning widely at him. 

the tranquility soon vanished.

the dreadful sound of the chimes at the front rung and echoed inside the library.

the door screeched and was pushed open from the outside. a young woman was holding the handle of the door, her face confused when she was halfway through the door. 

"the pretty guy resigned?" were her first words. a good afternoon was probably thrown out the fully opened windows of the library.

"uh," the thought of a first visitor was well-away from his mind after hours of having any. 

"if you mean yoon jaehyuk, the one who's here everyday, he's sick at the moment."

the young woman stepped foot inside the premises and supported the door to shut. 

"a cold in this weather? seriously?" she emphasized, making steady steps towards the counter. the wooden planks cranked with each step. asahi questioned its fragility. her lips rose up to a small smile when they were now face to face, "and, you're his replacement?" 

asahi nodded slightly, "for a few days."

"cool," she replied. "so, is the book i reserved ready?"

the boy's eyes blinked. 

"pardon?"

"the book i reserved a couple of days ago. pretty boy didn't say?"

he recounted everything jaehyuk had taught him over the phone the previous day. none of them contained anything about a special reservation. slight panic. "didn't say. i'm sorry," asahi said.

"ah, i expected he wouldn't."

"huh?"

"because i didn't reserve anything. this place doesn't take any reservations for books."

asahi was dumbfounded. "oh." he breathed. "okay."

the woman seemed to notice his unenthusiasm and scratched the back of his head. "that was a bad joke, i guess," she shrugged. she says a quick sorry which the boy accepts. a weird library is bound to have weird visitors. something that asahi had already accepted.

"can i ask you to choose a book for me?"

"i don't know anything about books."

the woman shook her head, "anything's fine. you could even randomly pick three books and i could choose one from your pile," she suggested.

and because he didn't know what else to say, he did exactly that.

he walked out of the counter and walked to the nearest bookshelf. he took out three books with one hand from the shelf that was right in front of his eye level.

he gently plopped down the books on the counter. the one in front was a white paperback, under it was a red leather covered book, and the third on the very back was another paperback. all of them were dusty, and the pages on each side of the book were a faint yellow. 

"hm.." the girl looked satisfied as she swiped her choices. she pointed at the one at the back, "i'll take this one," she said while reaching for her pockets.

"that easily?" 

"yes?" she answered, a laminated card now on her hands. "you mean i picked a book too easily?" she laughed.

when asahi nodded silently, she slid the card in front of him with another smile.

"i can just return the book anytime if i disliked it, no? it'd be like a surprise, too."

y/n l/n.

asahi wrote in the log book her name, the title of the book, the time and date, under jaehyuk's logs from yesterday. he also stamped the book card that was inside the book.

the woman, named y/n, left soon after asahi was done with the paperback now in her hands. she waved her hand at him before she exited the library, "see you," she grinned. the chimes of the door going crazy served as asahi's response since she was long gone even before asahi was able to say it back.

the library was quiet once more. 

he looked over the counter to the red book and the white paperback. he sat back on his seat, facing the cool air of the electric fan, and picked the white paperback first. he flipped through the pages. lots of words flashed in his eyes.

and so, he returned the book back to the counter.

he picked up the red book next. 

the leathery texture of the cover was smooth and dusty to his fingertips. he opened the cover. the pages were firm, crisp, and old all together. he carefully pressed a finger onto the first page. to his surprise, computerized words did not greet him.

the pages were lined. they were handwritten in cursive with thick, faded black ink.

he read the first line of the very first page. a couple pages were ripped off, based on the old, yellowed tore remains in the hinges of the book.

'it was the very first day of summer when i met my very first love. it was also the last day of that same summer when i lost my first love.'