There's always room for another

Chapter 22: 3.9 - the grounding

Yuna thought often about the sea. Out of everything she missed about the farm and her time with Ahjumma -

(And wasn't it a miracle that she could even miss anything about that time in her life?)

It was the sea.

She thought often about what it meant that some days she used to think about drifting off into it forever. Walking into the foam and into the water and just becoming one with it till the thoughts in her brain quieted.

Her paper shapes didn't float so well in the bathtub of her childhood home. They kept bumping into her knees, the sides of the tub. Often, if Yuna sat really still, they didn't move at all.

And so Yuna was left stuck in the tub, with her scrambling thoughts sealed into the paper shape that was trapped in the soapy water, till the vessel took too much water and essentially drowned.

Yuna thought a lot about the memorial on the bridge, overlooking the river that had taken away her memories. Constantly churning, almost angrily somedays. Yuna looked out the window of the bedroom she used to share with her sister -

(And it was easier everyday to think like that - her sister, her childhood home -)

And imagined she could see the river beyond the mess of buildings that lined the horizon. Could see it moving ever onwards, pretended that it was connected somehow to Ahjumma's sea, that there was a part of her that had never really been forcibly moved anywhere - merely drifting in different directions of the same river.

Because she did feel adrift. Always floating, too close to the ground but not enough, too far from the sky but not far enough for her to not feel as if she belonged there somehow.

Yuna hated the feeling, especially when it led to moments where she seemed to almost watch herself do things without conscious thought. Where it seemed as if she really was just a small person inside a bigger person's skin - a body that was meant to be well-adjusted, and comfortable and happy. Yuna didn't really know what comfortable was for her anymore - she thought she felt the faint tinges of it when she thought of Ahjumma and evening tea. Here in Seoul it was maybe quiet conversations with her sisters, it was somewhat strained meals with her parents, it was the odd routine of going to RBW every other day to observe rehearsals. Yuna was restless, more than anything. She didn't like that she spent so much time sleeping.

Which could be why she ended up visiting Ahjumma one weekend. She didn't tell anyone - just Seulgi, who had been reluctant to have her travelling alone after... well, everything. But Yuna had begged and begged and in the end Seulgi had caved and compromised on the basis that she was allowed to drive Yuna down and back again. Yuna had pulled her into a hug then - surprising both of them.

(Being that close to people still reminded her of Lala, but Yuna made sure she looked into Seulgi's eyes - her sister's eyes - right after, to ease that memory.)

If there was something Yuna had been pleased to see, it was that Ahjumma had not changed. The old woman had been waiting on her front porch as they pulled up in Seulgi's car, her face in her trademark unimpressed look, her bearing no less intimidating than it had been all those days ago when Yuna had first met her. It was hard to see the bandages that had been wrapped around her head the last time Yuna had been with her, to juxtapose this image with that of the frail lady with a feisty tongue even with a dozen tubes hooked through her skin.

"You couldn't even call ahead, you rascal?" was all she said as Yuna got out of the car with a wide smile. Her lips twitched when Yuna just waved enthusiastically, unable to rush over as she dug into the backseat for her peace offerings. Ahjumma looked at the flowers and big tote bag of snacks and tea with a discerning eye.