Frost

it was raining (the night i came back)

The flight was near-silent as they flew over the ocean. Cabin lights were off, and outside, a blanket of darkness covered all possible light. The screaming infant finally rested, and even the teenager scrolling through TikTok had finally fallen asleep.

There was an almost dystopian feeling to it all – movie-like quiet, in the middle of nowhere, no end to this journey in sight.

A phone screen’s glow illuminated Yeonjun’s face as he stared out the window, zoned out. Sleep refused to come, and the blanket he had pulled over his shoulders did nothing to help with the cold. So he sat there, shivering, blankly staring into the emptiness outside.

His phone remained open to his call logs, his finger hovering over his cousin’s contact.

As they flew through a cloud, small droplets of rain appeared on the window, like the sky was weeping. Yeonjun traced the droplet’s paths with his finger, distracting himself.

Only 4 more hours.

3 more hours.

2 more.

1.

“There is no ‘freedom’ when you say ‘freedom’ out loud, you know.”

The hastily-scribbled graffiti covered the wall of the cafe, shutters down. A “for sale” sign hung on the door, chains around the handles.

It stood empty for seemingly a few months now, and the local street artists had taken over the usual grey of the bricks, spray painting all across. There were messages going up, and down, and sideways.

Small cartoon bunnies, music recommendations, tags…

Yeonjun looked at what once was the cafe he worked at. The place with the smiling ahjumma and teasing servers. The it spot for the students of the nearby University. The place he spent his birthday at with Kai.

Picking up a spray can from where it rolled onto the road, Yeonjun shook it a little.

Our favorite cafe is now locked

He walked aimlessly through the streets, a small bag over his shoulder.

There was the restaurant Soobin used to work afternoons in. There was the hairdresser’s where Beomgyu used to apprentice. The small office Taehyun interned in.

They all stood foreign now, different. It had only been a year, and yet everything has managed to change.

He had always been afraid of this – of coming back and not being welcome. Of coming home and realizing it was just another house. Of seeing something he loved through the eyes of someone indifferent.

Now, it seemed his fear came true.

He shivered, rubbing at his bare arm, and walked a little faster.

The gate to the park swung open easily, and he slowed as he passed under the canopy of wide-branched trees. At least they had stayed the same.

The same bench with the peeling paint stood next to a large oak. Yeonjun glanced at it, and remembered kneeling here with Kai to feed an orange stray. Remembered how warm and light it was.

They were practically glowing that day – Yeonjun keeping a stupid grin at bay, and Kai, smiling widely as he petted the purring feline, making sure it got enough to eat.

It had been summer.

Now, it was summer once more, but all Yeonjun could feel was the cold winter draft at his back and the odd looks he drew from the few other people that were out and about at such a late hour.

Looking away, he continued through the park.

“Morning.” Soobin’s sleepy voice sounded through the phone. There was a quiet clacking of dishes as he prepared breakfast.

“Morning.” Yeonjun answered. He was sitting in the driver’s seat of an old, hand-me-down silver Jeep, like the one he had before. The empty field around him slowly came into view as the sun rose, leaving pink streaks in the sky above the small white flowers.

“Did you get wherever it was safely?”

“Mm.”

“You don’t sound too happy.” Soobin noticed. He always noticed.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure.”

“It’s just… different from how I remember it.”

There was a short silence, and Yeonjun realized he misspoke. Thankfully, Soobin didn’t prod further. Perhaps he was afraid of scaring him off.

“What are you gonna do now? Get a job?”

“Mn. I have one.”

“Really? Already?” Soobin sounded incredulous. A thunk of a teacup hitting the counter a little too forcefully punctuated his surprise.

“Yeah. I looked for jobs in the area before I moved.”

“Smart.” His cousin approved. “What job?”

“Nothing big. Just a part-time translator for a small company.”

“Ah. I forgot you were bilingual now.”

“It’s not for English.”

“Hm?”

“I took an official sign language course in Cali, Bin-ah. Korean Sign Language.”

Soobin didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “... you still remember it?” he asked weakly after some silence. “I thought you…”

“Yeah.” As he spoke, Yeonjun felt his phone vibrate, his alarm going off. “I gotta dash. Talk later.”

He didn’t hear Soobin’s bye as he hung up, slamming shut the door of his car and putting it into drive.

It’s all come full circle now.

3AM.

Yeonjun’s watching the ticking clock with growing dread. Should he call his cousin? Was it worth waking him?

Should he call Wooyoung or Yeosang? San?

He tossed on the cheap bed of his one-bedroom apartment, groaning aloud. This was not how he envisioned coming home.

In his outstretched hand, the cursed phone stayed open to his KakaoTalk account.

Amidst the dozens of year-old messages from his old friends, Yeonjun could only focus on one contact.

Hyuka [254 unread]

They spanned from the very first morning he left – the simple “where are you”s to the most recent.

I miss you

Over, and over, and over, until the words almost lost meaning.

I miss you. Please come back.

Yeonjun scrolled up through them, seeing the different dates, different times. It was crazy to think that he was that missed – that he had been thought of that many times by a single person.

He knew he had been cared about, but —

The most recent message was today’s.

Come home.

And, without thinking, Yeonjun texted back.

I did.