Legend [YEONBIN] ✓

seventy-seven ; soobin

After I cried myself dry, I left the clearing without a glance at the charred remains that were my father. He could be picked at by the crows. I rushed to the shaman shop. Sunghoon would have to help me—it was only right the shamans undid what they’d created—but it had been emptied. Cleared so completely that not even a speck of dust lay on the worn wooden floor. And I collapsed in the middle of the empty store to weep out my anger and despair until Yeonjun found me.

•    •    •

We placed a placard for Mom below a maehwa tree. The plum blossoms would flower in winter despite the cold. It was a hardy tree, but beautiful when it bloomed. It reminded me of Mom, so that was where we laid her to rest.

It was a simple ceremony lit by the waning moon. When Taehyun arrived, we exchanged no words, but I had no strength to make him leave.

With nowhere else to go, I stayed with Yeonjun. His room became my sanctuary where I waited for my death. My bead had disappeared with Mom’s body. And without it I expected to soon join my mother. As I lay with the curtains drawn to block out the sun, I didn’t know how many days had passed.

The full moon had marked the ninetieth day, which meant I had ten days of feeling like my grief would consume me. Ten days of mourning before I could go to oblivion.

A fever raged through me like a flash fire sweeping through a forest. I slept through days and wept at night. And every time I woke, Yeonjun was there, wiping my sweaty brow or napping beside me.

It was my only comfort, that he’d be with me in the end. Though I felt sorry when I saw the pain in his eyes.

“This has to stop,” Yeonjun said one day, stomping to the curtains and flinging them open. “You’re not dying, Soobin.”

I didn’t reply, didn’t even move to block out the light.

“Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun said, his voice softer. “I don’t know what to do for you. Can’t you tell me?”

I stared at him, resting my cheek against the pillow, still damp from my tears. “When I die—”

“Don’t.”

“When I die,” I continued, “don’t mourn me. Forget me and live the life you should have before I came into it.”

“Soobin-ah.” Yeonjun sat beside me, folding his legs beneath him. “If you die, then I’ll always remember you. That doesn’t mean I won’t live a full life. People leave us and our lives will never be the same, but if we forget them, then what does that say about how we value them?”

“When did you get so wise?” I asked.

“When the hundredth day passed.”

“What?” I sat up and the sudden movement made my head spin.

“I didn’t want to say anything. I was worried it would jinx it. But yesterday was the hundredth day,” Yeonjun said. “And you’re still here.”

“No.” I shook my head, trying to calculate the time, but it was all a blur of mourning and sleep. “That can’t be. I don’t have my bead. I should be dead.”

“Is it really that horrible?” Yeonjun asked, a smile tilting the corners of his lips. “The idea that you’d have to live a human life with me?”

I let out the breath I didn’t know had been clogging my lungs. And let myself believe. With it came a lightness as if I’d float away without Yeonjun to anchor me to the earth. I laughed and flung my arms around him, hugging him to me.

“I’m alive.” Saying the words made me giddy, and I let out another laughing breath. “I’m alive.”

“You’re alive,” Yeonjun said, and I heard the answering joy in his voice. They held each other close.

Then I sobered as the weight of the realization came down on me.

“So now I’ll have to live without her,” I whispered.

Yeonjun squeezed my hands. “We’ll both learn to live without them.”

I sighed, remembering Halmeoni. Grief wasn’t exclusively mine.

“I don’t know how.” I sighed, and it shuddered through my whole body to shake me. “She was my everything.”

“Maybe it’s wrong for us to hold any one person as our whole world. Maybe . . .” Yeonjun trailed off with an odd expression. “Maybe it’s wrong of us to owe all of our happiness or sadness to one person.”

“What is it, Yeonjun?” I asked, frowning.

“Nothing. I just think maybe I owe someone a visit,” Yeonjun said. “But that can come later. Right now, I’m going to make you soup.”

“Soup sounds good.” I smiled.