ephemera 一 baek dohwa.

vi

He fails to get her name. It’s not his fault, but he realises how distant their worlds are. He’s with the delinquent types who only ever mess around and spend time amusing themselves; she’s with the bookworms who attend supplementary academy classes right after school.

And it’s because of this that he knows no one who is remotely interested in studying, besides Ra-im, of course. But when he sees Ra-im smoking with the other girls later that day, he realises that he doesn’t want these worlds to be mixed up.

The following morning, Dohwa smooths the origami bookmark he’s made between his fingers over and over, staring down the length of the bus to the front, waiting to see a familiar face. He knows which stop she’ll get on, at least.

She’s less serious that he initially imagined. Although her face is solemn when she stares at her book, the moment he had struck up conversation with her, her face had brightened, a smile lifting her lips.

She’s tall, as tall as Ra-im, whereas Su-ae is shorter. Dohwa drives his head into the window with a small thunk.

Stop thinking about her.

When he looks back at the front of the bus, the girl has gotten on. She passes by her usual seat again, and he stares straight at her. He can’t call out her name, though, because he doesn’t know it.

‘Morning,’ she says.

‘Morning,’ Dohwa replies this time.

Her face breaks into a smile. It’s a gentle, quiet smile 一 not like Su-ae’s, whose smile is wide and bright. And still, Dohwa likes it.

‘So? Did you succeed?’

He’s forced to break eye contact.

‘Oh, man,’ she laughs. ‘You can just tell me you didn’t.’

Dohwa coughs. ‘Unfortunately, there were many obstacles that hindered my success.’ He smooths the paper creation in his hand once more with a finger, drawing her attention to it.

Her eyes brighten as she lets out a small delighted exclamation. ‘Is that a butterfly?’

Dohwa holds it out in his open palm. ‘It’s a bookmark for my favourite travel companion, because her current bookmark looks like it's on its last legs.’

He plays it off as nonchalant, but watches her reaction carefully.

She takes it ever so gently into her hands, turning it over.

‘Did you make it yourself?’

She sounds genuinely impressed, and Dohwa’s misgivings are banished forever. He feels a little sheepish to have doubted her sincerity in the first place.

He winks. ‘With my utmost care.’

She looks at him and laughs. ‘Thanks, Dohwa.’

It’s the first time she’s called him by name.

She pulls out the same novel as yesterday and removes the worn out receipt she had been using, replacing it with the butterfly. It sits snugly on the corner, and Dohwa thinks that the hour he spent practising was worth it.

She gazes at it. ‘It’s so pretty.’

He gazes at her and doesn’t reply.

‘Oh, right.’ She looks at him, and he tilts his head curiously. ‘My name. I’m Y/N.’

It’s a very pretty name. Dohwa repeats it over and over in his mind, committing it to memory.

‘I’m guessing you’re not treating me to a convenience store snack.’

He pretends to be offended. ‘I poured all my heart and soul into making that, you know. It’s got to better than, I don’t know, gum.’

She nods pensively. ‘I agree. So, are we strictly bus buddies?’

‘You tell me.’

She says humorously, ‘You know, I was thinking about this yesterday. Five feet apart. Your seat and mine. Like the characters in this book.’

He asks, ‘Five feet apart? Are they cursed?’

‘In a way.’

‘So do they always have to stay that way?’

She takes a moment to think. ‘No,’ she says at last. ‘They find ways to overcome it.’