Work Text:
Jian had caught sight of the building the moment she got off at the bus stop. It was a five story tall building with glass windows all around. The early afternoon sun reflected off of it, blinding her temporarily. This was definitely an upgrade from before, she thought, as she slowly weaved her way through pedestrians. The plastic bag in her left hand rustled with the wind as she walked on. Every step she took was accompanied with the clinking of glass against glass.
But those thoughts and sounds were just her attempt at distracting herself from the reunion she was walking into. She stopped, just a few feet away from the entrance and looked up at the towering building. The business card in her right hand worn from how hard she had been clenching her fingers around it.
She felt a huge lump in her throat as she walked past the glass doors and into the lobby.
"Miss...there's an elevator."
Jian snapped out of her reverie with the receptionist's voice. She glanced at the lady holding the elevator doors open.
"I'll use the stairs," she slightly bowed her head as she walked on. She noted the receptionist's quizzical look.
Yes, it was odd of her. Jian knew it was odd. She was going to walk three flights of stairs to reach the fourth floor. But she needed the extra minutes. She wanted to set her thoughts in order. Not that she hadn't already done that for the past few days.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
The clinking glass seemed to count down her steps as she neared the last flight of stairs.
Clink.
Clink.
It wasn't that she was scared. She wasn't. She had never been easily intimidated. But so many things had happened between them. So many words had been spoken between them. Although spoken was perhaps not an accurate description of what their conversations had been. More like words that they had spat at each other with the clear intention to hurt and anger each other. How was she going to confront him now?
Clink.
Clink.
It wasn't that she didn't want to meet up. She did. She needed it to feel completely at peace. Plus, how could she not thank him?
The clashing of glass and rustling of the bag came to a brief halt as she pushed through the stair door and walked into a brightly lit corridor.
Her eyes skimmed through the office numbers until she found the one she was looking for.
403
She stood at the door catching the end of what was most likely a telephone conversation.
"It has to be by Friday. No later than Friday."
Her hands tightened at the sound of the voice. Her left hand holding the bag. Her right holding the card.
He didn't speak for a few seconds, probably as he listened to the person on the phone speak.
"It doesn't matter. Just bring it by then."
Jian furrowed her brows at his voice. There was something different about it.
"Okay." She heard him put down his phone and knocked.
"...Come in."
Card still in hand she twisted the door knob and walked in.
He didn't look up immediately, instead he motioned with his hand as he flipped through a notebook.
"Take a seat."
She remained standing in front of his desk unable to speak before he saw her. And he did. Finally. After what seemed an eternity but had actually been mere seconds.
The effect was immediate. She had wanted him to look up but the moment he did, she didn't know what to do. He simply stared at her...and was that a smile that had almost escaped his face?
He tried to collect himself. There she was. Lee Jian. That person. He managed to take back his smile and silently reprimanded himself for being so obvious.
He had missed her. He didn't deserve this, having her in front of him again, after how much he had tormented her. Heck, he knew he didn't even deserve to simply miss her.
But he had.
"It's a nice office." She absentmindedly glanced around. It was probably still the same size as his previous office but this one was new, clean, brightly lit, and organized.
He nodded, unsure if he could speak. "I had some extra money."
More awkward silence. Awkward but not wasted. He took the chance to glance her way again and take in her image. Her hair was in a loose ponytail and she had light makeup on. Instead of the dark wardrobe she sported before, she was now wearing some dark jeans and a light blue blouse. And sneakers. Not her old sneakers. She looked so different but she was still Jian. Her eyes, a dark creamy brown, had lost the coldness they had before. They still had a story to tell and someone with a perceptive eye would be able to recognize that but they had a significantly softer feel in them now. He had to pull his eyes away from her.
"How have you been?"
Jian nodded. "Good..." Her fingers continuously brushed against the plastic bag in between them.
"Work?"
"I got transferred to Seoul a few months ago."
"Where?" He regretted asking the moment the words slipped out of his mouth.
"....It's just office work." She moved towards the desk, lifted the bag onto it and placed the now crumpled business card beside it. Her hands reached into the bag and placed the two contents onto his desk.
A bottle of soju and a shot glass. She caught him look down at the ground and slightly sink into his chair once he heard her answer. She felt bad for skirting the question but she hadn't come to rekindle a relationship. She had come to give it proper closure. Knowing as little of each other's current circumstances would be best, for both of them.
She twisted the soju cap off and served some into the glass. The strong smell of soju circled them. She lifted the glass towards him but he remained motionless.
"Thank you," she blurted out as she drew her hand holding the glass back. He lifted his face and looked intently at her, half surprised and half confused. Thank you? For what?
"For a year ago. For helping Kibeom and I." She leveled her eyes to his. "I wanted to say thank you."
He scoffed. "Help?" How'd she find out? How'd anyone find out? "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jian blinked knowingly at him. "The audio files....I know." She walked towards the windows, soju glass still in hand. "Don't deny it. It's not like you."
He followed her with his eyes as she made her way across the room. Fine. He briefly smiled knowing she wasn't facing him. "So I mailed some USBs in. It was nothing."
She was standing right up to the glass windows, her back to him. "I would have served some time if it weren't for them. To me..I don't consider it nothing..." She trailed off.
"I got some money out of it," he called out. He didn't know why he had said that to be honest. It was a lie and it would discredit his actions. So why had he said it? It was something people didn't know but it was simply his way of protecting himself, of putting a wall around himself. It was stupid and often times, if not all, he ended up hurting the people around him. Such as had been the case with Jian. I don't deserve her gratitude either. Things he'd never admit out loud.
He motioned at the view from the window with a nod of his head. "I didn't get this for free. I got some money out of it before mailing it in. Do Joon Young is dumb and generous."
This time it was Jian's turn to laugh. Silly. "You'd be sharing a cell with him if you had done that." She turned her head to look at him. "So...thank you."
Their eyes locked for several seconds. The defiant streak that always shone in them when she confronted him in the past was gone. She meant it. She really meant it.
He couldn't stand looking at her for long. It was priceless and precious for him but at the same time torture.
She turned her attention back to the bustling city view. The sun was starting to make its descent into the ground. Soft golden rays of light shined on her small pale face.
"It's a really nice view."
"How'd you find out?"
"Ajusshi."
"He sure is talkative," he half smirked. They kept in touch then. He figured. But it still hurt.
She just smiled, maintaining her position by the windows. She seemed lost in thought. Several minutes went by without either saying a word. He tugged at his fingers as he sat there, in silence. Drinking in her presence.
"That day,..." she finally said. Take a deep breath.
"That day,..." the words stuck in her throat. She shuddered thinking about that day. She didn't have to say anything else. He understood what day she was referring to. Her hesitation and slight tension were a dead give away of what she had in her mind. He stared blankly at her, waiting for her to speak.
"I'm sorry." One.
He could have sworn he felt his heart stop at the sound of her voice. At the sound of those words.
Her eyes hovered across the skyline.
"I'm sorry...for the pain I caused you." Two.
"I'm sorry for taking your only family." Three.
"I'm sorry for ruining your life." Four.
"I'm sorry for hating you." Five.
"For taking so long...I'm sorry." Six.
"For everything, I'm sorry..." Seven.
She took a long breath, finally looking down at her shoes.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry...I'm sorry." Ten.
She was surprised at how each time was easier than the previous ones. It actually felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders with each sorry.
Was it that every device in the room had decided to remain utterly silent or did the sound of his breathing become louder? She wasn't sure, just like she wasn't one hundred percent aware of how much her words had shaken him.
Years flashed before his eyes as he recalled everything he had felt that day when he returned home late. Instead of going straight to the little room Jian, her grandmother, and Kibeom shared, he had run some errands in exchange for medicine for Jian. If only he had gone straight to her that day. Perhaps....
But he hadn't. And instead had been welcomed by the sight of police and ambulances at Jian's home. No one could ever understand the conflicting emotions he had felt the moment he saw his father being carried away while Jian sat motionless on the cold ground.
And now she was saying sorry.
He swallowed the memories away and shifted in his chair. Jian had lifted her face back up and was in the process of lifting the glass in her hand when he spoke.
"If you could live that day again. If you could live that moment again," he paused as he saw her bring down her glass again and her shoulders immediately tense.
Another deep breath, this time from him.
"....Would you still do it?"
Jian's fingers curled more strongly around the small glass. Her answer was obvious. Yes. I wouldn't do anything differently. Except, perhaps, act sooner. It was my halmoni. That's why she had decided not to say I did wrong and chose I'm sorry instead. The former wouldn't have been sincere. She bit her lower lip and slowly drank the soju.
Her silence was the clearest answer he could get. It was both fascinating and disturbing how mere silence could play such a pivotal role in a conversation.
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. On the inside he felt he couldn't breath but he played it off with a slight laugh. He only wished his voice not to let off how impacted he felt.
"I..if I were Lee Jian." He swallowed again. "I would have done the same. I wouldn't regret it either." That's where his dilemma had always been. Some days his mind understood why she had done it but his heart was pained at the loss of his father. His only family. Yes, he knew he had been a horrible man. Sometimes he still felt pain in his right arm, where his father had slammed him against a wall before. But even then he was his father. It might have been hard to believe for others but even they had shared nice moments, nice days. Other days his mind understood he had to hate Jian but his heart was pained at the girl he had lost that day. She had been incredibly special for him. Jian. That's what had gone through his mind every single day since that day. It drove him crazy. Crazy enough to want to die.
He looked at his hands and noticed they were slightly shaking. Clearing his throat he clenched them in an attempt to steady them.
Another minute went by as neither of them said a word. Finally she walked towards his desk again and set the now empty glass down. His eyes followed her small hands as she reached out for the soju bottle and served another shot, never looking at her face.
Jian set the bottle down and glanced his way. Slouched over in that chair he looked incredibly defenseless. Her eyes traced him, his face, his tired shoulders, his hands. His clenched hands. Her body instinctively flinched as it recalled all the past bruises that had been inflicted by those hands. She knew the strength they had, so why did they look so weak now?
He parted his mouth to speak. "...."
"We're even now," she cut him off before he could say anything. He must have read what she was thinking about. She didn't need an apology from him for the beatings. She didn't want it either. And she knew the emotional struggle he was fighting with himself. She had reached a stage where she could apologize. He hadn't reached that stage yet. An apology out of his mouth could haunt him forever. In any case, even though she had never admitted it, she had allowed them. Back then, she erroneously believed she deserved that much.
She pushed the glass towards him. He wouldn't say it but he was grateful she had interrupted him.
"I'll get going."
He slowly sat up straight and rested his back on the chair again. He gave her a slight nod. His stoic face was replaced by fatigue. It reminded her of herself a year ago. It was like she was seeing a replica of herself. Empty. That's how she had felt then.
She headed towards the door, stopped, and turned towards him halfway. The words where begging to come out.
"If you take the time to think about it each and every interpersonal relationship is quite fascinating and precious...Halmoni said that."
She paused at the thought of her grandmother and the impact that those words had had on her life.
She continued, her voice a soft whisper. "You must repay them. Live a happy life. That's how you can repay the people in your life." Silence embraced them and seemed to prelude her next words. She didn't have a clear view of him but she didn't need to. Jian knew how he looked. He sat motionless in his chair, staring at the glass of soju. Perhaps to any passerby he looked unaffected by her words but he was fighting back the tears that wanted to roll out of his eyes. What the heck is wrong with you?! He clenched his jaw.
"I'm happy." She remained still as the weight of those words, her own words, comforted her. "I'll keep being happy."
I'm happy. He had never heard her speak with such sincerity to him before. With such tenderness.
No, he had actually. But that had been years ago, when they were just kids. She'd be bruised and in pain but her small fingers would trace his own bruises that he'd earned for defending her and Kibeom. Are you okay? Her eyes would brim with tears but her soft voice comforted him.
Unconsciously he closed his eyes at the faint memories. He didn't notice when she turned around to look at him.
"Kwangil."
His eyes shot open and met her gaze.
"Kwangil-ah...be happy now."
A small smile came across her face. How many years had it been since she had smiled at him?
Jian saw the surprise and pain he was going through. He looked so beaten down in that chair.
She held his gaze until he finally broke away and drank the strong alcohol.
Kwangil felt the alcohol burn down his throat. He felt the warm water falling from his eyes and onto his cheeks too. Staring at his desk he avoided her eyes. The numbers of debts due on his notebook blurred into black splotches.
Silence.
He finally heard her scuffle her shoes. She was leaving. Gosh that's why he didn't want to face her. The moment he did another wave of tears let loose as he finally surrendered the battle. What the heck. It's not like she hasn't seen me cry before. She shot him one last nostalgic smile before turning to leave.
He saw her hand reach the doorknob.
"Do you need money?" he asked abruptly. His voice sounded weak even to his ears. It was weak but he realized how desperate he sounded. "If you ever need to borrow some..."
Jian's fingers fidgeted as she kept hold of the doorknob.
"No," she answered, her back to him. "I'll never borrow money again."
Her hand turned clockwise to open the door. She paused for a split second before walking out. It's over. It was the only chapter of her past life she needed to finish. It's done. Her legs carried her out the long corridor and into the elevator. She understood the true meaning behind Kwangil's plead.
If you ever need to borrow some...come see me.
Come see me.
She understood the true meaning of her own answer. She had no intention of seeing him again. There weren't enough thank you's and sorry's to heal the breach that had come between them. She killed his father. He hit her. But at least now she could be at peace and hopefully he could too. Her eyes moistened at the thought of an old childhood friend picking himself back up, like she had. An old childhood friend. Yes, that's the image she would try to remember. Nothing else.
She pushed the glass doors to exit the building. The bright sun showered her face, forcing her eyes to squint. She paused to read the text she had just received.
Do you want to have dinner together? At the usual place?
She smiled as she walked on with a newfound bounce in her walk.
One. Two. Three. Four steps. She stopped.
Jian faced the building one last time. She wasn't sure if she imagined it or if her eyes registered the image correctly. A lone figure looking out towards her from the fourth floor.
Be happy. She whispered as she went on her way.
...
Kwangil-ah, be happy now. Her voice resonated in his head.
Kwangil-ah
Kwangil-ah...
Be happy now.
The moment she had said no to his offer had left him breathless. As he heard her footsteps down the corridor he knew he'd never see her again. He served himself another shot of soju and walked towards the window, glass in hand. If this was going to be his last time seeing her he wanted to grasp every moment. He waited patiently as he imagined her making her way down to the lobby.
Be happy now.
Finally her small figure emerged out into the street. She looked at her phone for a second before walking on. Every step she took was a present for him. One. Two. Three. Four steps. And she stopped. Jian turned in his direction. He almost instinctively turned around at the thought of being caught. Almost. But he was determined to watch her go. He couldn't tell because of the distance but it seemed like she said something before scurrying off again.
Sunlight danced across her back. Glistening on her light brown hair. The afternoon breeze teased her. Blowing single hairstrands out of her ponytail. He could almost imagine the rippling sound of her blouse as it swayed with the wind. Kwangil cherished every second until she was finally lost in the throngs of people heading home from work.
Silence. His office contained nothing but silence. Just those four words. Kwangil-ah, be happy now.
He looked down at the clear liquid in the glass. He downed it just as quickly as he had the first. His cheeks felt dry where the salty water had traveled across. Letting out a deep breath, one he felt he had been holding all his life, he closed his eyes and welcomed an odd new feeling.
The inklings of peace. And perhaps a hint of nostalgia as he recalled the words that had moved him so deeply a year ago. And regret at his own actions. He heard his computer whir up again and let out its soft purr.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
You must repay them. Live a happy life.
Such irony. Who would have ever imagined that he'd have something to repay to Jian.
Lee Jian. Be happy, he wished, as a final lone tear skipped down his face.
Thank you.