December 22nd, 2014.
In Memory of
Kim Seok Jin
12.4.1995 ~ 12.20.2014
Though absent you are always near,
Still loved, still missed and very dear.
His mother stood beside the grave, a single girl hovering near her like a faint shadow. The six boys and Jin's father lowered the urn into the consecrated ground. Soil whispered over porcelain. The girl's throat trembled, packed with sobs she refused to release, as if letting them out would make everything too real.
No one spoke. Their silence broke in waves, small quakes of grief shuddering through the cold air.
They were far past devastation. This was the territory of regret.
The girl adjusted the edge of her black dress and touched Jin's mother's shoulder, a fragile gesture at best, but the only one she could manage. When the ceremony ended, his parents quietly offered to drive the students back to campus. No one resisted. Their minds curled around the same name, like a ghost tugging at their sleeves.
Xin Ae.
One-sided love. She finally understood how cruel it could be.
Sometimes Xin wondered how Jin was doing, but she knew answers didn't come through wishes or whispers. His friends had begun avoiding her, though she hadn't the faintest clue what she'd done wrong.
She made herself stay far from Jin, until the distance became a void. No sightings. No messages. No trace of him at any hour.
So she buried her feelings like people bury time capsules, praying they would dissolve and never rise again.
"Come to think of it... why haven't we seen him for so long?" Xin mumbled as she walked with her friend, Chanette, who had returned only for the last lesson of the day, claiming a stomachache. Xin hadn't questioned it.
Chanette stopped abruptly. Xin took several steps before noticing she was suddenly alone. "Channette? Hello?"
Chanette blinked and shook her head. "Sorry, I was... thinking."
Something was wrong. Xin could sense it in the way her friend wouldn't meet her eyes.
"Why do you look like that? You're as dull as your gothic dress." Xin chuckled, tugging lightly at her sleeve. Only then did she notice the plain black fabric from collar to hem. "Why are you dressed like that? Trying to impress someone?"
Before Chanette could reply, a tall boy approached. Xin's smile vanished, and she swung open her locker with unnecessary force.
Talking to him felt wrong. He was Seokjin's close friend.
Namjoon caught her wrist before she could escape. "Xin—wait."
"Let go." She tugged, but he held firm.
"I need to tell you something."
"Then talk fast. I don't have all day."
"Jin... transferred," he managed.
Xin blinked. That was it? Of all the ridiculous tricks—
"Transferred? To where?"
He hesitated too long. "Seoul Arts Institution?" Even his voice bent into a question.
She scoffed. "So? What's your point?"
Namjoon glanced helplessly at Chanette, who stared back with pleading eyes. As if they were thinking of the same thing. To give Xin a chance.
"Don't you want to see him?" he asked. "Come with me. I'll take you."
"And why should I? He clearly doesn't want to see me—"
"You'll regret it for the rest of your life."
"Cute. Still not convinced." Xin rolled her eyes, prompting Chanette to nudge her sharply.
"What?" Xin snapped. "You want me to go?" Chanette nodded, tightly.
"Ridiculous."
Still, when Namjoon bowed slightly and gestured toward the exit, Xin didn't walk away.
"After you, miss."
Outside, the winter air shifted, heavy with something unspoken.
