Countdown -- 8
Measure it out in inches; Jinki/Minho; PG-13
note: Minho is coming...later. I'm going on a bit of a break very soon. I don't know if I'll get to chapter 9 before then. And I am unfamiliar with S.K.'s laws pertaining to wills, so...
prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Chapter eight
The next morning, I got up early and ate breakfast for the first time in three days. After filling my stomach with rice and banchan, I was out the door. Since I was still on sick leave, instead of going to work, I opted to wander aimlessly around the city. I didn't bring my bag with me and I didn't even bother grabbing my wallet. Counting the loose change in my pockets while waiting for the traffic light to change, I figured there was only enough for a one-way bus ride home.
A little past noon, I found myself in the park next to my old junior high. Picking out a random tree, I collapsed gracelessly onto the grass underneath its canopy. Leaning back against the scratchy bark, I sat there for a long time, drifting listlessly on the border between consciousness and oblivion. It wasn't as if I'd been doing any strenuous exercise, but I was completely exhausted. The mere idea of getting back onto my feet felt like an impossible chore. And so, resting limply in the shade, I did not even entertain the idea of heading back to my fan-equipped home.
It was already July and a particularly hot day at that. I could appreciate the clear sky that stretched in every direction, but the simmering temperature made me dizzy.
I vaguely prayed in some corner of my mind that I won't end up with heatstroke.
As I lifted one hand up to wipe the sweat away from my eyes, I noticed a bruise on my forearm. It was blue and purple and a little too large for me to not remember how it got there, but I honestly didn't know how it happened. With a lengthy sigh, I buried my face against my legs and hugged myself tightly.
This fatigue.
This malaise.
This weakness.
I hated it.
It was a reminder that I didn't need.
You are sick, it said.
I almost wanted to cry again, but nothing came out of my eyes.
......
I lost track of time.
At some point in the afternoon, a gray-haired grandmother and her young grandson passed by my tree. The little boy and I stared at each other for a while. Unexpectedly, he let go of his grandmother's hand and ran over to where I was. As if offering up the most precious treasure in the world, he reverently held out his ice cream bar. Upon seeing my confused expression, he spoke to me, carefully pronouncing each word as he went, trying to sound like an adult.
"Ahjusshi-Ah, I mean hyung, you don't feel well 'cause it's hot outside right? It's okay. You can have my ice cream. You'll feel better after you eat it. I only licked it twice, I promise. And I don't have cooties!"
Then he quickly glanced back at his waiting grandmother. The old lady smiled in our direction, her eyes crinkling in amusement, and nodded her approval. Very much reassured that he was doing a good thing, the little boy then beamed at me proudly. For the first time in three days-perhaps even longer-I felt the corners of my mouth lift out of uncomplicated happiness.
I accepted the ice cream bar with one hand and ruffled his hair with the other, telling him thanks.
That single word carried more gratitude that anyone could understand.
The vanilla ice cream was quick to melt, forcing me to eat even more quickly.
By the time I licked my lips clean and finished the thing, my entire hand was sticky.
Then I stood up, brushed myself off, and went home.
A cold shower and some fresh clothes later, I began rummaging through my drawers for all the documents I imagined I would need. I carefully sorted through them and placed them inside a folder, which I then stuffed into my bag. My fingertips tingled a little as I sat down with my laptop to search for nearby law firms. There were surprisingly more than one within a manageable distance, but by comparing prices, there was no clear winner. So, half-inspired by the little boy from earlier, I picked a firm by the most reliable method for this type of situation: eenie meenie miney moe.
In a perfectly air-conditioned office, replete with a wall of certificates and several impressively realistic fake plants, sitting across from a sharply-dressed middle-aged woman whom I had never met prior to that day, I drew up my will.
I used to think that reducing my entire life into a simple list would be a difficult thing, but in practice it was a lot easier than I expected. The lawyer was very professional and patient. Things proceeded uneventfully. And I held myself together very well. The whole process was easy for another reason: I didn't have much in terms of possessions and I wasn't exactly dividing things up.
Everything I had I was leaving to my cousin Kim Kibum.
Even as I signed and dated the document under the disinterested eye of the lawyer's secretary-my witness-I felt as light as air.
......
chapter 9
note: Minho is coming...later. I'm going on a bit of a break very soon. I don't know if I'll get to chapter 9 before then. And I am unfamiliar with S.K.'s laws pertaining to wills, so...
prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Chapter eight
The next morning, I got up early and ate breakfast for the first time in three days. After filling my stomach with rice and banchan, I was out the door. Since I was still on sick leave, instead of going to work, I opted to wander aimlessly around the city. I didn't bring my bag with me and I didn't even bother grabbing my wallet. Counting the loose change in my pockets while waiting for the traffic light to change, I figured there was only enough for a one-way bus ride home.
A little past noon, I found myself in the park next to my old junior high. Picking out a random tree, I collapsed gracelessly onto the grass underneath its canopy. Leaning back against the scratchy bark, I sat there for a long time, drifting listlessly on the border between consciousness and oblivion. It wasn't as if I'd been doing any strenuous exercise, but I was completely exhausted. The mere idea of getting back onto my feet felt like an impossible chore. And so, resting limply in the shade, I did not even entertain the idea of heading back to my fan-equipped home.
It was already July and a particularly hot day at that. I could appreciate the clear sky that stretched in every direction, but the simmering temperature made me dizzy.
I vaguely prayed in some corner of my mind that I won't end up with heatstroke.
As I lifted one hand up to wipe the sweat away from my eyes, I noticed a bruise on my forearm. It was blue and purple and a little too large for me to not remember how it got there, but I honestly didn't know how it happened. With a lengthy sigh, I buried my face against my legs and hugged myself tightly.
This fatigue.
This malaise.
This weakness.
I hated it.
It was a reminder that I didn't need.
You are sick, it said.
I almost wanted to cry again, but nothing came out of my eyes.
......
I lost track of time.
At some point in the afternoon, a gray-haired grandmother and her young grandson passed by my tree. The little boy and I stared at each other for a while. Unexpectedly, he let go of his grandmother's hand and ran over to where I was. As if offering up the most precious treasure in the world, he reverently held out his ice cream bar. Upon seeing my confused expression, he spoke to me, carefully pronouncing each word as he went, trying to sound like an adult.
"Ahjusshi-Ah, I mean hyung, you don't feel well 'cause it's hot outside right? It's okay. You can have my ice cream. You'll feel better after you eat it. I only licked it twice, I promise. And I don't have cooties!"
Then he quickly glanced back at his waiting grandmother. The old lady smiled in our direction, her eyes crinkling in amusement, and nodded her approval. Very much reassured that he was doing a good thing, the little boy then beamed at me proudly. For the first time in three days-perhaps even longer-I felt the corners of my mouth lift out of uncomplicated happiness.
I accepted the ice cream bar with one hand and ruffled his hair with the other, telling him thanks.
That single word carried more gratitude that anyone could understand.
The vanilla ice cream was quick to melt, forcing me to eat even more quickly.
By the time I licked my lips clean and finished the thing, my entire hand was sticky.
Then I stood up, brushed myself off, and went home.
A cold shower and some fresh clothes later, I began rummaging through my drawers for all the documents I imagined I would need. I carefully sorted through them and placed them inside a folder, which I then stuffed into my bag. My fingertips tingled a little as I sat down with my laptop to search for nearby law firms. There were surprisingly more than one within a manageable distance, but by comparing prices, there was no clear winner. So, half-inspired by the little boy from earlier, I picked a firm by the most reliable method for this type of situation: eenie meenie miney moe.
In a perfectly air-conditioned office, replete with a wall of certificates and several impressively realistic fake plants, sitting across from a sharply-dressed middle-aged woman whom I had never met prior to that day, I drew up my will.
I used to think that reducing my entire life into a simple list would be a difficult thing, but in practice it was a lot easier than I expected. The lawyer was very professional and patient. Things proceeded uneventfully. And I held myself together very well. The whole process was easy for another reason: I didn't have much in terms of possessions and I wasn't exactly dividing things up.
Everything I had I was leaving to my cousin Kim Kibum.
Even as I signed and dated the document under the disinterested eye of the lawyer's secretary-my witness-I felt as light as air.
......
chapter 9