The Uncovery. | Kim Seokjin

III

Sunhee
———

I don't know where it began, but I fall into a hole of despair every year around this time. I wish I knew why my heart aches like this. I can feel my soul weeping, but it won't tell me what is making it so sad.

I will not understand why the first snowfall is celebrated. It is only a reminder that this year is coming to its end; it's memories are being sealed away until the next year comes and a new book starts. Either way, I have no choice but to face it. I will pretend like it does not matter.

He didn't come home last night. I don't know when he'll be back, but I ought to go outside and get the mail. I've left it piling for a couple of days now. It's a good thing he hasn't noticed yet. I don't want to upset him. If I do, he'll leave my side again. I don't want that to happen. He's all I have.

It's really cold, but to my luck, the sun is out and the snow didn't stick. Although it is a nuisance having to walk out of the building like this just to open the mailbox. I'd like to have a talk with the builder of this building and ask what the hell he was thinking by making this such an inconvenience. With the rent that we pay, he could at least use our money to move it inside.

There's a ton of mail but it's all junk. My fingers are turning stiff and numb as I try to flip through each envelope in this cold frigid morning. Most of it is for him, but I don't see anything with my name on it. . . If anything, I see a name I don't recognize. I squint, trying to recognize it; It is quite similar to mine actually. The mail man must have mistaken our mailboxes and names. The address on this envelope is down on the opposite side of the hall. . .Perhaps this person has some of my mail too?

I hold my knuckle in front of their door, but suddenly, I feel wary now. How about I just slip it under this person's door? But without a second left, my wrist bends on its own, tapping my knuckle gently against this old door with faded and chipped paint in front of me.

I can hear slow footsteps creaking across the wooden floor. They must be watching me through the peep hole now. I'll wave this envelope up—they probably don't want to answer as if I'm some solicitor.

"I have your mail."

That probably didn't help their suspicion. I can't hear anything anymore. My heart is racing and my stomach is turning. I should just go. My footsteps are already moving on their own until the sound of a *click* freezes me on my tracks.

Their door cracks open an inch; I see someone's eye looking right at me. Shit—maybe this wasn't a good idea. It's a tall man and his eye quickly widens before he opens the door all the way, completely revealing himself with candles lit behind him in his dark apartment. I don't know why my eyes are suddenly locked in on him. Is it the way he's looking at me? His hands hang stiffly at his sides. His eyes don't move from me and I can already feel myself starting to panic. Why does he keep glaring at me? I'm holding up the envelope before extending it out to him.

"This is yours. It was in my mailbox."

He doesn't respond. He's inhaling deeply and his shoulders steadily rise up and down. They're so broad, I wonder how much of the world he can carry on them. I break the eye contact now. He still hasn't answered nor grab hold of the item in my hand. I squint at the name again—

"Kim Seokjin— are you Kim Seokjin?"

His eyes widen even more and his bottom lip parted a bit before swallowing what sounded like a knot. I think I heard a quiet gasp...but that was probably coming from me.

Finally, he nods and extends his hand out, taking back what was his. The envelope wrinkles in his grasp as his giant palm engulfs the whole thing. His eyes still haven't moved. I don't think he's even blinked. I can see them forming tears. I blame the cold, dry air. His breath is trembling. Yes, it must be the cold air.

It wasn't until later on that evening when i heard someone weeping bitterly down the hall. Maybe it was him; I'm not sure. Or perhaps, there's someone here who can't stand the first snowfall either.