Chapter Text
"If I chicken out again and don’t tell her how I feel, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Take your time, you can answer me when I’m back."
She registers the words in her mind slowly but surely; they are words she couldn’t just ignore, couldn’t just pretend that she didn’t hear them. In that moment, Songhwa doesn’t just see Ikjun’s retreating back. She sees instead, a string of memories worth twenty years fleeting before her eyes, vague but lasting moments they’ve shared together -- they’re constant reminders of what she had to inevitably give up, a cloud of irony that has settled in the deepest recesses of her mind, but brought back slowly in wake of his recent words to her. Irony, because in those memories were days scattered around the happiest stage of her life - they were fond memories, ones that could easily bring a smile unto her lips. Yet, those memories had days she wishes didn’t happen; they were days that contributed to the dormant feelings of hurt and disappointment she had fought hard to push aside, years of suppressed emotions she had kept at bay in the name of friendship.
Songhwa reminds herself to breathe, leaning against the wall lightly as she hears the door click behind Ikjun. He’d done it again. He’d rendered her speechless for the third time. This time though, she doesn’t think she could ignore his words any longer. Not when it is out in the open boldly, not when she still feels the words lingering in the air, carved into the back of her mind.
For someone who had constantly given advice to almost everyone in the hospital, this is one - and the only one - she doesn’t know how to respond to.
Ikjun returns from Spain almost as quickly as he had disappeared after his confession. Songhwa meets him the same day with the rest of the gang, during band practice on Christmas Eve. She had been worried that seeing him again would somehow turn out to be awkward, and that thought alone had scared her to near death - she’d been doing some thinking while he was away, and even though she couldn’t grasp the solution to her current situation, each thought ended with one simple conclusion; she doesn’t want to lose him. That isn’t an option to her.
The second Songhwa lays her eyes on him, she finds herself giving him a small smile. It is almost second nature to her, a reflex of some sort that sometimes she doesn’t even realise she had done. Her worry of things being awkward between them is quickly forgotten as Ikjun launches into his story about how beautiful Spain was, how he had gotten by with his broken Spanish he had hastily learned before his trip. Songhwa laughs, pausing in her dinner to ask him about the symposium.
“Tsk,” Ikjun flashes a wide, rather smug grin at all of his friends. “I’m Lee Ikjun, you know? That symposium was a breeze.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Junwan dismisses his self-appraisal with a wave of his hand, sulking slightly. “I can’t believe you didn’t get us anything from Spain.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t get you guys anything.” Ikjun jabs a finger towards Junwan’s direction, his tone teasing. “I only said I didn’t get you anything.”
Junwan’s expression crosses into dismay, and everyone else cracks up in a merry laugh. Throughout that evening, Ikjun doesn’t bring up what he’d said in Sokcho, and Songhwa finds herself being grateful for that. Ikjun acts like everything is normal, even though Songhwa believes it is anything but. She goes along with it, knowing that ultimately, the decision to bring that topic up again, rests on her shoulders. Songhwa knows that Ikjun is giving her space and some time to figure things out. He isn’t going to pressure her into saying something when she isn’t ready yet - but somehow knowing that fact doesn’t make it any easier for her.
Ikjun, regardless of him understanding her current predicament, is waiting. He is still waiting for something, a reaction, anything from her three confessions ago. They’ve been friends for two decades, and Ikjun prides himself with being able to read her, almost like a worn out book - but when it comes to this particular matter, he is unable to interpret what she is thinking; Songhwa knows this. She knows this because she has kept her thoughts guarded, placing barriers around her heart.
After their band practice, Junwan and Jeongwon bid their goodbyes first, both seemingly preoccupied with thoughts in their minds. Ikjun and Songhwa stay just a little while more to talk to Seokhyeong, until the latter decides it is getting too late, and that they should be heading back.
Ikjun walks her to her car silently, hands in his pockets. She doesn’t say anything until she reaches her driver’s door, and Songhwa turns around so that she could rest her back against her car. “How’s Uju?” She asks, an attempt to make a conversation with him - at least, a proper one since his return from Spain. “I miss him already.”
Ikjun lights up immediately at the mere mention of his son, and Songhwa smiles along. “He’s doing great! Have I mentioned that he may be a genius?”
“About a million times, yeah.” She laughs, and for one second there, everything really did feel like normal.
“He misses you too.” Ikjun says, his smile wide. “When are you coming to visit?”
“Maybe next weekend.” She replies without missing a beat. “If that’s fine with you.”
His grin widens, eyes gleaming with excitement…and just like that, Songhwa feels the pang in her heart. It comes unannounced, hitting her squarely in the chest until she feels her smile faltering. She nearly misses it when Ikjun answers enthusiastically; “Of course! You’re always welcomed at our household, you know that.”
Songhwa looks away, and Ikjun catches the subtle shift in the air almost at once. He hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary - Songhwa did go to his house often, even knowing his passcode. But the weight of his words is different now, even if he hadn’t meant for it to mean anything other than its literal meaning.
“Well, I better get going.” Ikjun breaks the silence in the air in a tone Songhwa knows too well as him trying to steer their conversation elsewhere. “Yah, you’re not going to drive back all the way to Sokcho at this hour, are you?”
“Oh, no.” She shakes her head once. “I’m staying over at my brother’s. My parents are visiting tomorrow.”
“Great!” Ikjun replies brightly, clasping his hands together. “Drive safely, alright? Text me when you’re at your brother’s.”
“Sure.” Songhwa smiles, and Ikjun starts to walk away. There’s a lump lodged in her throat, a feeling of want rising within her despite her heavy heart. She wants to say something, wants to tell him that she hasn’t forgotten his words in Sokcho, or any of his words before that for that matter. She isn’t ignoring what has happened, that she’d been thinking - still thinking - about his confession.
But for the second time, in that long hesitation, Songhwa ends up watching him leave in silence.
It’s some time after that Songhwa sees Ikjun again. Three weekends after, to be precise.
This time, Songhwa is the one who initiates eating a meal together with him, travelling all the way to Seoul and showing up unannounced at his doorstep on a Saturday morning. It’s a spontaneous decision she’d made hours ago when she woke up, one which she mustered enough courage for, and she hides that spontaneity under the guise of seeing her favourite nephew again.
“You did say I could drop by anytime.” She simply says when Ikjun opens the door and a smile, albeit out of confusion, spreads across his face immediately. Songhwa brushes past him easily, removing her shoes before stepping into his home. Ikjun calls out loudly; “Uju-yah! Your favourite aunt is here to see you!”
“Don’t let Iksun hear that.” Songhwa chuckles, just as she hears Uju’s tiny steps scampering across the hallway. She bends in reflex, and in three short seconds, the boy is already throwing himself onto her. Her voice goes a pitch higher as she exclaims, “Uju-yah, I miss you so much. Is our Uju doing well?”
Uju’s laughter resonates across the four walls as he wraps his arms around Songhwa’s neck. “Imo, Appa wants to order jajangmyeon but I want to eat spaghetti!”
“Yah~” Ikjun half whines in exaggeration. “Last time you wanted jajangmyeon after I finished cooking spaghetti!”
Uju simply giggles while Songhwa laughs. “Well, if my favourite nephew wants to eat spaghetti then we’ll definitely have spaghetti for lunch!” She darts a quick look at Ikjun behind her. “Right?”
“Fine,” Ikjun smiles, giving in easily. “Since your aunt is here, she can keep you occupied while I cook.”
“That’s a given.” Songhwa replies instantaneously, already carrying Uju in her arms as she heads for the living room. “Don’t burn anything, and be generous with your ingredients.”
Ikjun feigns rolling his eyes, even though he is still smiling. He puts in gently. “I’m sure I can cook better than you, Songhwa-yah.”
She whirls around sharply. “That’s not a fair statement to make considering you’ve never really eaten anything I’ve cooked before.”
“Kimchi stew. University. February 2001.” He says, almost pointedly, and Songhwa flushes in embarrassment over that sudden reminder. Ikjun doesn’t need to say anything else, his eyes gleaming playfully. That was one of the few times Songhwa had cooked for the rest of the gang, and they had wound up in the hospital because of a bad ingredient she had used.
“Yah,” She sighs exasperatedly. “Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of my life? That was one time-”
Ikjun chuckles, shaking his head before heading for the kitchen. Songhwa turns her head slightly to address the boy in her arms. “Uju-yah, don’t listen to your dad. I’m a good cook!”
“Appa usually forgets to put in salt,” Uju reports, lowering his voice. “One time, appa forgot about the seasoning for the ramyeon, we had to -”
“Uju-yah!” Ikjun interrupts loudly. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”
Songhwa merely laughs.
After tucking Uju into bed for his afternoon nap, Ikjun emerges from his room to find Songhwa looking out of his window. It takes him a few seconds to realise that it is raining and almost instantaneously, a grin graces his face.
“The weather’s nice.” He remarks, and Songhwa looks over her shoulder slightly. She smiles too, understanding the implication of his statement. Some things don’t change, after all. “It is, isn’t it?”
Ikjun settles himself on his couch. Songhwa joins him seconds after, an empty seat in between them. “How are things in the hospital?”
“Just the same, busy as ever.” He replies, casting a glance to her direction. “You know about Jeongwon and Gyeoul, right?”
“Yes.” She chuckles in fond remembrance of the conversation she had with Jeongwon before she left for Sokcho. “Being a doctor suits Jeongwon the most, don’t you think so?”
Ikjun nods. “Never doubted it for a moment. He is the happiest around his patients.”
She smiles, and silence starts to stretch between them. It isn’t one that is uncomfortable though, just one where Songhwa doesn’t think she has anything to say. Even though she’d been away from the rest of her friends, she is still very much updated with what is going on in their lives - the text messages in her phone are evidence of this.
“Songhwa-yah,” Ikjun keeps his eyes trained in front, looking at nothing in particular. “Why did you come today?”
Songhwa isn’t surprised to hear that question, in fact, she’d been expecting Ikjun to ask her that since the second she appeared in front of his doorstep. She answers with a casual shrug. “To see Uju.” It isn’t a lie, after all. It just isn’t the whole truth.
“I don’t doubt your love for my son.” Ikjun smiles, and tries again. This time, he glances into her direction. “But I have a feeling that there’s something more than just that.”
Songhwa meets his eyes, hesitating just for a few seconds. “Having meals with you...I miss it.”
Ikjun is a little taken aback to hear that, but he levels himself quickly. Songhwa draws back her gaze, her eyes on the window again. The last time she’d been in Ikjun’s apartment, he’d said something similar to her; spending a quiet time with her, eating with her, is what brings him happiness. It was the first of the three moments that had stirred something within her that she’d thought was lost forever.
“It’s really quiet in Sokcho.” She continues, hoping he would understand her statement. “There’s no one who would just drop by my office, asking me to have meals with them.”
“It’s not too late to come back to Yulje.” Ikjun offers, his tone light. Songhwa chuckles, shaking her head. “I’ll get used to it, eventually.”
“You will.” Ikjun nods, then pauses. “Still, must you have gone to Sokcho so sudden?”
Ikjun’s question takes her back to that day where she broke the news to the rest of her friends. It was the day she’d announced her departure, leaving them no room to argue for her to stay. Once she’d made a decision, it would be difficult to convince her otherwise. Songhwa still remembers though, that when she’d told them she was transferring to the branch in Sokcho, Ikjun had mostly been silent. Songhwa has an inkling she knows the reason why.
“It’s not because of you, Ikjun-ah.” She says softly. “It really was because of my health.”
“I know.” Ikjun replies, matching his tone with hers. “You must have given it a lot of thought before making that decision. I don’t regret it though.”
Songhwa diverts her attention back to Ikjun. “Regret what?”
“What I said,” He hesitates. “when Chihong asked me if I had feelings for you.”
Silence breaches over them. There it is - the conversation Songhwa knows she cannot avoid forever. The conversation that had her thoughts tangled in complicated knots over the past few weeks.
“Ikjun-ah,” She starts, her voice soft and measured. It is never her intention to point fingers, or to blame him for all the almost and the could-have-beens, so Songhwa tells him in the gentlest tone she could muster; “It isn’t fair, you know.”
Her gaze wavers when Ikjun stares back at her - his eyes genuine and bright, an underlying sadness she could decipher just from the way he is looking at her. Even though she had said those words kindly, Songhwa has a feeling that Ikjun could probably sense the slight edge in her tone, the subtle sign of a scar edged on her heart that she has carefully kept hidden all these years. “Tell me honestly,” She braves herself to continue, this time with a question that has been haunting her for weeks. “was I your first love?”
Ikjun doesn’t answer immediately; his gaze shifts just a little, and in that second of hesitation, Songhwa already got her answer. “Yes.” He answers anyway, even if it is a few seconds too late. “Yes, you were.”
Thinking about it and actually hearing that one syllable out loud are two entirely different things, and Songhwa has to level herself, to not let her expression betray the sudden clench of her heart, as though someone had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart tightly. That revelation, words she couldn’t have imagined herself ever hearing - Songhwa almost forgets how to breathe.
There’s another lapse of silence, another timely reminder of how much things have changed between them in such a short span of time. Ikjun not knowing what to say, Ikjun being silent when he is usually the most carefree, the loudest, is a giveaway that this matter between them is something to be tread upon carefully. He is deep in his thoughts, trying to understand her all but vague statement and question so far, and she knows.
Songhwa finds her voice eventually, her heart hammering within her. “That is exactly why it isn’t fair.” She repeats, some sort of preliminary explanation she could offer. Ikjun raises an eyebrow ever so slightly, a plea for her to elaborate. Songhwa takes in a deep breath, running one hand across her hair in obvious frustration. “Twenty years have gone by. Why are you telling me this now ?”
She sees it then; the pain reflecting in his eyes as Ikjun takes in her words carefully. She wonders if he could see the same in hers, too.
“I didn’t want to say anything at first.” He replies slowly. “Not until that evening with the rest of your Neurosurgery team, anyway. It made me think after that.”
Songhwa remembers that evening clearly, the memory so vivid in her mind that it feels like she is living through that moment again. What happened during the dinner, sparked by an innocent game. What happened after that in the karaoke bar; if Songhwa closed her eyes, she could almost hear the way Ikjun had sung the song he had chosen, longing and yearning evident in his tone. A song which bears lyrics that resonate too closely, too dangerously within their hearts, lyrics capable of reigniting all those feelings Songhwa has locked tightly within her.
“You were uncomfortable, weren’t you?” Ikjun asks - despite already knowing the answer. Songhwa simply looks at him, her expression calm. She doesn’t answer him though. “If you hadn’t answered Chihong’s question that evening, would you still have confessed in Sokcho?”
There’s a long pause, as though Ikjun is carefully choosing his words. “Maybe not in Sokcho, but...eventually, I think I would have.”
Songhwa keeps mum, unsure of what to say. Ikjun takes that as a prompt for him to continue, so he does. “I know it’s ridiculous to suddenly bring this up after so many years. But...ever since we started spending time together again, ever since all the meals we had together, I found myself thinking. Long and hard. I found myself realising that the feelings I have for you had been reignited, found myself liking you all over again. I meant what I said in Sokcho.” Ikjun states firmly. “I don’t want to live the rest of my life regretting not telling you how I feel, again.”
“Ikjun-ah…” She heaves a sigh, eyes diverted onto the floor instead.
“I’m not asking you to reciprocate my feelings for you.” Ikjun says softly, his voice coming off as a whisper. “I would never want you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”
Another question escapes her lips even before she could stop herself. “Why do you assume that?” When Ikjun doesn’t answer, confusion streaking across his face, Songhwa wills herself to elaborate. “That I don’t share your feelings?”
“What...do you mean?”
“When Seokhyeong confessed to me back in university and I rejected him because I liked someone else...”
Ikjun’s eyes widen just a little, and that subtle reaction, that tiny hope that Songhwa sees in him is what she needs to push those words locked in her throat out.
“That person is you, Lee Ikjun.” Her voice breaks with that admittance, a secret she had carefully sealed in the deepest part of her heart for many, many years. “You were my first love, too. You still are.”
Saying those words out loud felt almost therapeutic - it is then that Songhwa realises that she cannot fault Ikjun for confessing, knowing that like her, it is a secret he has carefully kept to himself for many, many years. But that doesn’t mean an automatic happy ending for them; hardened by reality and the harshness of fate and timing, Songhwa cannot bring herself to move forward with her feelings so easily.
“The past should remain in the past, Ikjun-ah. Do you understand now, why I said it isn’t fair?” She blinks back tears she had fought hard to repress. Just like that, she feels a wave of emotions crashing into her heart, words she initially couldn’t bring herself to say out loud start to stumble out of her mouth.
“We missed our timing. I couldn’t tell you how I feel for you. How could I? We both dated other people back in university, and you got married in the end.” Songhwa exhales. “All along, I had to convince myself that it was all for the best. I was content with what we had, and I wasn’t going to overstep my boundaries. I settled on the thought that having you as my best friend is a thousand times better than losing you altogether. That was what I told myself over and over again. That was what I said to make myself feel better.”
Songhwa places a hand over her heart, though she forces a small smile on her lips. It is as though she is trying to tell Ikjun that it is okay, that she is all right, even though it is as plain as the day that she isn’t. “I was hurt.”
For a solid minute, both remain mum. Ikjun has thought of this many times since the evening of the neurosurgery team dinner; what would Songhwa say in response to him finally opening up his heart? Would she accept his feelings, or would she gently reject him? If it is the latter, would they ever be able to go back to how they were before he’d said anything? The reality though, is far from his imagination. Ikjun is speechless, because he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard - did Songhwa really say that? Did Songhwa really just tell him that her first love is him ?
When Ikjun finds his voice, Songhwa is already standing, making her way towards her bag on the dining table. He almost scrambles after her, his heart racing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know...Songhwa, I really didn’t know.”
Songhwa shakes her head gently, not accepting his apology - it isn’t something he should apologise for, is what she thinks. “How could you have known?” She asks. “I didn’t know I was your first love, either.”
Ikjun takes a tentative step towards her, then stops in his movement. Songhwa casts another glance in his direction, one he could read as melancholic, of a quiet understanding over their missed timing twisted in the name of fate. “I should probably get going.” She tells him in the end, and Ikjun wants desperately to tell her to stay.
But he doesn’t. He couldn’t; realisation has sunk in and Ikjun realises too late that in all those years of his friendship with Songhwa, he’d missed the fact that he had hurt her without realising, that he had caused her pain without knowing.
This time, it is Songhwa who leaves. This time, it is Ikjun who watches her retreating back, his feet frozen on the ground.