It is so cold, sitting under the roof of the bus stand, feeling like there are thousands of needles piercing my every bone. If people are going to ask me about my willingness to stay outside in the autumn rain again, I would say it won’t happen, ever again. I should listen to the weather forecast more often, so that the chilly wind won’t be an unfair rival, because I don’t even wear a sweater thick enough to fight it. And I feel regret, maybe for not listening to forecast or maybe for staying at the library to catch up with the seemingly never-ending syllabus. But, however I perceive it, thing already happened.
“You seem to need it more than I do,” a certain someone says. It is bizarre, to look at someone with an umbrella in his hand, drenched and offering his umbrella to someone else.
“What?” I reply, after knowing I can’t comprehend the sheer weirdness before my eyes.
“Take this umbrella and go home. No one wants to stay outside in this chilly autumn,” he says.
I am frozen, not literally. I mean, my brain fails to think of a reason why this boy is doing this. He is very strange, advising someone to take a step towards a healthy tomorrow, but he, doesn’t even take it seriously. I know that Yoseob is hard to predict; he is one of the gifted students in the school. His brain is one of the greatest creations of the Lord, and it is full of reasoning and logic. He is not anti-social, but I would say that he is very close to it. People just can’t apprehend his way of thinking, thus, view him as unfriendly, causing him to have fewer friends. That explains why I hate so much when he tutors me every Tuesday, although he has a good intention to raise my exam’s grade. That explains why I hate today.
“You are the one who need the umbrella. You are drenched,” I say, trying to make it sounds as logic as possible.
“I am already wet. Even if I use the umbrella, it is still the same as walking in the rain. People who are still dry should need it more than I do, so that one less people will be drenched in the rain,” he says.
I very much want to hit him in the face. He makes what is illogic in my mind to be perfectly logic. I want to hit him, to kill him, because I always fail to defend my own logic. He rhetorically convinces me, and I act perfectly upon my instinct to take the umbrella from his hand.
“Thanks, Yoseob,” that is all I could say. He gives me one last smile before he decides to leave for home in the heavy rain.
“One less people gets wet by the rain,” I could hear him saying the moment he leaves.
I stand up; ready to go home as well. On my way home, I couldn’t help but to wonder if God is toying with my feeling when Yoseob is made my tutor. Why can’t I get a less weird person like my friends got? Why does it have to be him? And most importantly…
…why does my heart fall for him?
Yoseob is marked as absentee the next day. Although his absenteeism doesn’t bother anyone in the class including the teachers, it bothers me a lot. This is not the first time he is missing for lesson, but I just can’t get my feeling right today. I bring his umbrella for the sake of returning it and maybe I could plan a full-length conversation with him. He doesn’t talk much. The only time he talks to me is when he is tutoring me. And I’m more than happy although it is full with theories, hypotheses and reasoning.
In fact, I’m more than happy to figure out his logical thinking, which is illogic for other people.
Thus, when I decide to pay a visit, I know I’ve made the right choice after reasoning it out of my own logical thinking. A friend is not coming to school and I need to return something to him. So, I should come to his house and return it, shouldn’t I?
It is not the first time I come to his house. Every so often, he invites me to his house on Tuesday evening for lesson. It is simply because his mom is working for night shift that day, so, his mom is cooking dinner, and sharing his mom’s cooking with the other people will be good. The logic that he deduces is a perfect reason why I often accept when he invites.
I knock on the door and immediately after that the door is opened. I am greeted by the only woman of his life.
“Kaoru! You didn’t tell me that you want to come. Yoseob is not at home,” she exclaims with a smile. She invites me in.
Yoseob and his mom live in a low-cost apartment. It is small, but to me it is huge, because it always shows acceptance and warm welcome to everyone who comes. Both Yoseob and his mom are altruistic, with very big hearts, those that often help people in need. Yoseob’s mom is working as a nurse in a nearby hospital, and that what makes the most sense out of it, on how they could become very selfless. Usually, when Mrs. Yang is working for the night shift, she will cook dinner beforehand, and that what makes Yoseob invites me to his house, to share even a small amount of fortune he could have get.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you first,” I apologize, “I just want to return this umbrella. Yoseob lent it to me yesterday. I thought of returning it to him at school, but he wasn’t present,” I explain.
“Oh,” she frowns and takes it from me.
“You’re not working today?” I ask her. She smiles.
“I’m taking a night shift. Yoseob and I went for Soup Kitchen this morning,” she says. My face lights up immediately after I heard it. Mrs. Yang goes for Soup Kitchen as frequent as twice a week, and Yoseob usually joins during weekends. They volunteer to cook for the poor, and distribute the food to family in need. I join Yoseob quite sometimes, and truthfully, I could feel how satisfy it is to see people as happy as I am.
“So, that is why Yoseob is not coming to school…” I make an assumption.
“He is sick, and I asked him to stay home. But, he insisted joining the Soup Kitchen since he wasn’t going to school,” her mom tells the truth.
“Sick?” I ask. And then, I hear someone calls my name.
“Kaoru?” I turn to my right and I see Yoseob is standing there with a cute girl in his embrace, who I assume should be around 4-5 years old. He is pale with a KoolFever stuck on his forehead. The sight of doesn’t look good, but his smile after all improvises it.
“Yoseobbie, why are you bringing Hana home?” the sweet woman asks.
“Hana did well in drawing today. And I think it should be good if I bring her home for dinner as a reward. You’re cooking, aren’t you?” Yoseob asks back. The mother smiles and nods.
I could make a wild guess that the girl must be belonged to the orphanage where Yoseob volunteered for. They look close though, like a brother and a little sister. The sight makes me pretty much envious, but I curb it right inside me.
“Oppa, who is that pretty unnie?” she asks while patting Yoseob’s shoulder.
“That pretty unnie? You can call her Kaoru unnie,” says Yoseob.
“Hello, Kaoru unnie,” she says sweetly. I am touched seeing how nice the girl is. I bow back to her.
“Hello, Hana. Nice to meet you,” I say and pinch her cheek gently. She looks at Yoseob, perhaps very shy and maybe asking for what she should do next.
“Let’s get into the house, Hana, for dinner. You’re staying as well, aren’t you Kaoru?” he asks with his eyes looking deeply into my eyes.
“I…I d-don’t…know…” I stutter upon the sudden invitation.
“I insist. Let’s have dinner together to celebrate Hana,” he says with a very convincing smile. I just can’t refuse it.
We get inside and the three of us sit in the living room while waiting for Yoseob’s mom to prepare dinner. Hana, who is apparently the brightest ball of energy, insists on playing ball. Yoseob doesn’t want to refuse but I could see his energy level is not to optimum today. I try to attract the girl and play along with her.
“Hana, oppa is sick. Come play with unnie,” I say gently, trying my best to get her attention diverts to me. She looks like she wants to refuse at first, but when she throws the ball for me to catch, I know that the girl starts to accept me as one of her friend in her life.
“I’m sorry you’re sick. It is my fault,” I say while playing with Hana. I feel terrible. It has to be my mistake. If I didn’t accept his offer yesterday, he didn’t have to walk home in the heavy rain and get sick.
“Nah...I was drenched even before I met you at the bus stand. Logically thinking about it, I will get sick no matter how and seeing you freezing at the bus stand, waiting for the rain to stop was no good either. You might get sick as well. So, I was drenched and surely will get sick, why don’t I give the umbrella to someone who has a higher probability of not getting sick and let her go home and warm up herself?” he says with a deep judgement on the situation.
“Still…I’m sorry…” I say.
“You know what, Kaoru? You have to learn when to say sorry,” he says.
I’m starting to love the conversation. It is two-way, and it is without Newton’s Laws, Markovnikov’s Rule, de Moivre’s Theorem or Keynes’ School of Thought, which I always had with him before.
“Thanks for coming anyway,” he says.
“Hey, I’m not coming for you, okay? I come here to return the umbrella,” I exclaim. I try to make a joke here, for the sake of the new-experience conversation between Yoseob and I, although deep in my heart I actually very much concern about him. And to my surprise, he laughs.
He shakes his head. And both of us laugh, and a few more laughs and coughs and sneezes. Hana looks at us blankly, without knowing why we laugh in the first place. And that is how our real friendship begins.
We have lost contact for years. After we graduated high school, I pursued my degree in medicine in Russia while Yoseob pursued his degree in liberal science in US. Our last meeting was when I sent him to the airport when he was departing for US. And that was all. I’ve never met Yoseob and his mom again even when I was back to my homeland.
Thus, when I come back to school for an alumni programme, I hope to see him or at least to know something about him. As I tour around the school, I start to reminisce the memories of a few years ago. The bus stand just outside the school, the library and the path I often used to go to classes. Somehow, they will all centre to one person, which is Yoseob. I try to dig in some information about the aforementioned boy but even the teachers have no clue about him.
It might not look proper on people’s eyes, but as a last resort, a drag myself to his house, or maybe his ex-house. After I knock on the door, I was greeted by another disappointment when it is neither his mom nor him opening the door. However, I could feel a glint of hope when the woman says that she knows them. This house was given to her by the last owner in her early marriage when she was still having unstable income to make a sufficient living with her husband. She describes how big-hearted the mother and son are.
“Do you know where are they living now?” I ask, with hope that I can find them.
“I’m sorry. From what I know, they seldom come back to Korea. They often are overseas for volunteering work,” she explains. My smile fades slightly but I don’t want to lose hope.
“Where are they staying when they are here?” I ask again, and once I feel like I’m interrogating. I know that it is quite rude but I can’t help.
“I’m not sure about that. I’m sorry,” she says. I sigh. The women look at me with sympathy, understanding how important those information are to me.
“When was the last time they are here? Do you know when they are coming back again?” I ask again. She shakes her head regretfully. I am about to say thank you and leave when I see a man running with a bouquet of roses. Perhaps he is her husband.
“Honey! Happy Valentine Day!” he exclaims and gives the roses to her. I smile as I feel the happiness radiated from this couple.
“Thanks, dear. Oh, this is really…Where did you get it, dear?” asks the wife. Maybe she is so happy that she even forgets my existence there. Envious, disappointed, I turn and start to leave.
“From Mrs. Yang’s son. What is his name again? Yeosobbie?” the husband’s question makes me freeze.
“Oh, really? They are here?” the wife asks. I listen to their conversation again.
“Just came back from Afghanistan. They help the orphanage to sell roses for Valentine Day to raise funds,” says the man.
“I’m sorry, sir, madam, but I really need to know where I could get the same roses?” I ask immediately, without considering the happiness both of them are having.
“Errr…In front of the nearest mart,” he informs. As fast as lighting, I dash out to the road, making my way to the mart. The Valentine’s spirit could be felt in my soul as I run along the road. I could see people selling chocolates, teddy bears and flowers, not to forget couples feeling the peak happiness of their lives.
I stop and pant; feeling like my life has just been reduced for ten years. I am exactly in front of the hypermarket in the neighbourhood, as mentioned by the husband just now. I try to find Yoseob but I see no guy selling roses, instead two girls dressed as angels are holding the bouquet of roses. One girl is in her early adolescent while another one might not even a primary school’s student.
“Pretty unnie?” the elder girl seems to be talking to me. I look at her blankly.
“Kaoru unnie?” she asks. I nod, feeling curious and suspicious, how does this girl know my name?
“Kaoru unnie! This is Hana! Don’t you remember me? Hana, the little girl with Yoseob oppa,” she exclaims and excitedly hugs me.
“Oh, Hana. Hello. You’ve grown up!” I exclaim. She looks different. The once chubby and cute Hana has change and now moving towards a beautiful teenage girl.
“I’ve never seen you for so long. Where have you been?” she asks me.
“Study and work. Those are enough to make me excluded from the society,” I explain.
“Hana unnie. Who is this pretty unnie?” the younger girl shakes Hana’s hand and ask. This situation reminds me of Yoseob a lot.
“This pretty unnie? You can call her Kaoru unnie,” Hana explains. I remember, it is the exact answer Yoseob gave her a few years ago.
“Hello, Kaoru unnie,” the cute little girl greets me.
“Hello, girl,” I reply her greeting with a pat on her head.
“Kaoru?”
That is the voice that I’ve been waiting for. That is the voice that I miss so much. I freeze, but still manage to turn my head and lock my eyes on him. There he is, Yang Yoseob, standing sturdily, with a smile plastered on his face.
“Yoseob!” I yell happily and hug him before I could know I do it.
“It has been very long, hasn’t it?” he says.
“I’ve been looking for you like…who knows how many years,” I exaggerate to make it look very sympathetic at my side, but what he does to respond to that is only smiling.
“You want to buy roses for your loved one?” he asks, “All proceeds will be given to the orphanage,” he explains.
“Yah! I don’t have anyone to give it to. But, since this is charity, I think I’ll take a bouquet,” I say.
“I guess you are a doctor now,” he says while giving me the bouquet of flower. I smile to that.
“A paediatrician, yes,” I say, “And you are?” I ask.
“A volunteer teacher,” he says. I frown to that. His degree in liberal science can make him more than a teacher.
“So…this is what actually you were aiming for?” I ask. He smiles.
“I just want to share my fortune in education with less fortunate people around the world,” he says altruistically.
“When are you going again?” I ask, trying to hide the sorrow that I feel.
“The day after tomorrow. To Palestine,” he says. My heart sinks. Palestine is a place with an outbreak of war and is a dangerous place to step into.
“Who do you work with?” I ask.
“Mom and I work for the UN,” he says.
“Can you take me along with you? Can I register and join the charity mission with you in the future?” I ask, since his altruistic value had long ago infected me in a way I would want to do charity as much as I can.
“Are you sure? You don’t know how the place is, Kaoru. There is less facilities and bad excess to water. Not to mention that you put your life at stake. You wouldn’t want to go,” he says.
“Yoseob, you have shown the sign of altruism in past years we were together. Truthfully, I learned a lot from you and I want to help people in need as well, regardless the condition I need to be in,” I explain sincerely.
“Kaoru…are you serious? By all means, you want to volunteer, regardless how harsh the reality could be?” he asks me.
“Indeed,” I confirm again. He smiles brightly.
“Then, I would propose you to follow me forever?” he says in an asking tone. I laugh.
“Oppa…give roses to Kaoru Unnie if you want to propose,” says the little girl.
Both of us laugh. Hana laughs as well. Yoseob pays for a bouquet of roses and dedicates it to me.
“Happy Valentine?”
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