Chapter Text
Lee Ikjun is only human. And he is starting to feel tired.
Matters of his heart are finally weighing him down when at one point of his life, it has been something that kept him going. A treat he gives himself.
He stares at the message on his phone screen, one that he has opened since five minutes ago, yet remains unanswered.
From: Chae Songhwa
Lunch?
Ikjun shakes his head, a bitter smile drawn across his expression. When did his life take a turn like this? When something -- or rather, someone -- who used to provide him with so much comfort, has finally caused an unsettled ache twisted cruelly in his heart.
If there is one thing he is bad at, it is saying no to someone who matters. When he has unintentionally built a world that includes her in the picture, it pains him to have to say no.
But for the sake of protecting himself, he thinks he should at least try.
So he replies,
Maybe next time.
The knock is soft and careful when Songhwa calls for him to enter. A familiar face, someone she has expected to see given that this is almost a routine for them. Before he could even say anything, before she could even read the expression he had on his face, she speaks, first.
“Hey stranger,” She jokes casually, realising that it has been some time since she last spent any time with him alone. The last had been during camping; and that had been two weeks ago. His replies to her texts were less frequent now, slower, too. She doesn’t think too much about his behaviour though, concluding that he is probably just really busy with his work.
Which was why she had been pleasantly surprised when Ikjun called her just ten minutes ago, telling her that he wanted to drop by her office to tell her something. Her mood had brightened up instantaneously, the small nudge in her heart telling her that just the thought of being able to see him could make her smile. She agreed quickly, without any hesitation.
Songhwa quickly tidies the papers on her desk, preparing to leave since he is now here. She doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t replied to her. That he hasn’t moved an inch from the position near her door.
“Ikjun-ah, I’m hungry,” She draws the words out easily, words she is familiar with. Her face is bright with a large smile when she continues cheerfully, “let’s eat!”
Only this time, she is met with complete silence. She casts a quick glance at his direction, wondering what is the matter -- Ikjun barely even looks at her, his expression unreadable. Songhwa’s smile falters. She doesn’t even realise she’s holding her breath until Ikjun heaves out a loud sigh, flattening himself against her door, as if trying to increase the distance between them.
Finally, he answers softly, “I...can’t,”
She notes his casual attire and wonders if he has plans out. “Are you getting off already? I thought you’re on the night shift today.”
Ikjun shrugs. “No, I’m not on night shift today.”
Songhwa frowns; did she remember his schedule wrongly, then? Or...has it really been so long since they last had a proper conversation that she is no longer attuned to his schedule like how he is to hers?
“But I need to finish some reports at home.”
To say she is stunned is an understatement; there is an inkling which tells her that he is blatantly lying, because Ikjun isn’t the type to bring work home. Songhwa could feel her heart beating beneath her as she wrings her fingers together in an attempt to compose herself, albeit the confusion rising within her. “Is everything okay?”
Ikjun offers a curt nod as a reply, barely even giving her a smile. “Yeah.”
It is unsettling. Awfully so, to see Ikjun act like this, uncharacteristically avoiding her gaze. Songhwa tries, again. “You still need to eat though, you shouldn’t skip a meal over reports. We can have dinner in the cafeteria and you can finish them tomorrow--”
“They’re due soon.” He interrupts her firmly.
Songhwa’s gaze is still fixed on him. She tries to study him, tries to interpret what is going on with her best friend. But for some reason, there is a carefully curated guard around Ikjun that night that she just couldn’t seem to penetrate.
“I came here because there’s something I need to tell you.”
A sudden thought flits into her mind just then. A thought that has been lying dormant at the back of her mind, only ignored at the repeated assurance that that couldn’t be the case. That Ikjun isn’t actively trying to--
“I think we should stop this now.”
Her frown deepens. She doesn’t understand.
“What’s the matter with you?” The question comes out from her before she could stop herself.
Ikjun’s head snaps up, his eyebrows furrowed together. As if incredulous to hear that question from her. “What?” He says.
She takes that as a challenge to repeat herself. “I said, what’s the matter with you?”
Ikjun stares at her long and hard, his jaw squares in tension. She notices it. But she pretends not to. “These two weeks, you have been unresponsive to my texts. You don’t answer when I call. You don’t even hang out in my office anymore, or even eat lunch with us.”
There’s something else that is bothering her, something she suspects -- and Songhwa wonders if it would be alright to say it out loud. Would it open the floodgates to something she isn’t sure if she’s ready to hear?
Ikjun replies calmly. “I have no choice but to.”
Her confusion is two-fold, and Songhwa inhales. She decides at that very moment, to just say her suspicions out loud. “It feels like you’re avoiding me,”
Ikjun’s expression remains impassive. He doesn’t blink, not even when Songhwa continues, “Please tell me I’m wrong, Ikjun-ah. I must be overthinking, right?”
He struggles, unable to bring himself to lie, and Songhwa’s lower lip begins to quiver. Somehow, it is another question that escapes her. “Why?”
Ikjun stares straight into her eyes. It feels like he is searching her soul when he finally whispers softly, “I think you know why.”
It all comes crashing down on her, because she does. As much as she hates to admit it, she does . Songhwa shakes her head once, a lump lodged in her throat. This is her biggest fear, her nightmare.
“You look bothered.” Ikjun comments in mock surprise. There’s an underlying question in his statement, one that she picks up; why do you look bothered?
Songhwa exhales shakily. “It feels like I’m losing you.”
Ikjun doesn’t reply. He couldn’t.
His silence speaks volume, and a sense of dread begins to fill her. Songhwa feels herself anxiously trying to grasp onto anything that could tell her otherwise. And in that moment, the only sure thing in this otherwise swaying world is standing right in front of her. “Tell me how not to lose you, then.”
The longest pause ensues, and Songhwa could hardly breathe. She valiantly suppresses her wish to raise her voice. Instead, she pleads, “Ikjun-ah, say something.”
“Songhwa,” He gives her this small smile, his expression pained. “I just need you to be honest.”
Her eyes widen just a little. “Honest?” She echoes, as if unsure over such a simple word bearing many implied consequences.
Ikjun nods. There’s another stretch of silence that lapses between them, and at each passing second where Songhwa is rendered mute, Ikjun decides to ask her a question. An ultimatum.
“Do you think I should give up?”
Songhwa doesn’t get it, not at once, anyway. It takes her exactly three seconds to truly understand what he means, and her ears start to ring. “What do you mean?” She plays dumb in the end, not knowing how else to answer his question.
He lets out a soft chuckle, and she finds herself frowning at his untimely decision to be humored over her question.
And then, he answers only one word; “Us.”
Songhwa opens her mouth, then closes it. She starts to look away, heart still palpitating.
She hears his whisper two seconds after. It’s soft and laced with hints of exhaustion; “What even are we now Songhwa-ya?”
It is her turn to be silent, frustration coursing through her veins. Why is Ikjun asking questions she couldn’t answer tonight?
Ikjun shifts in his position, as if trying to rid the nerves he is feeling. “We’re neither here nor there, and...I don’t think I can keep up anymore.”
That is when she sees it.
The exhaustion in his eyes, the way his lips are pursed thinly. She has hardly ever seen Ikjun this...this tired. To know the cause of his unbridled emotions -- Songhwa could feel her hands trembling, and she resolves them by clasping them together tightly. A wave of frustration rises within her, of understanding the crux of this entire issue between them.
Issue. She abhors that word. Why must this be an issue? When has there ever been an issue between them?
"Is there a need to have an answer to that?” She finally asks in an equally soft tone. “Why do we need to put a label on what we have now? Isn't this enough?"
Ikjun’s reply comes two beats after, his voice almost monotonous, as if he has long accepted this answer even before he had decided to ask this question to her. "It may be enough for you.” He shakes his head once. “But when the receiving end of whatever it is we have between us, is someone who has confessed and gotten rejected, it isn't enough after all."
With those words out in the open, Songhwa could hardly breathe. Her knuckles tighten, and her head starts to spin; for those words could only mean one implication, and that is --
"I really thought I could do it, you know?” Ikjun continues suddenly, “And I did, for one year and three months. I was content with just spending time with you,”
Songhwa is almost too afraid to ask, but she gives in to the curiosity rising within her, "What changed, then?"
"That night during camping.” He says in full honesty, "To have to be so close to you, yet so far.”
Her mind blanks at the mention of camping, the night still fresh in her mind. The conversation they’d shared about their family, the cans of beer they had downed. Songhwa remembers everything. The way his cheeks were flushed, the way her own cheeks were heated. The air of comfort surrounding them, with the welcoming breeze that encouraged her to let slip an information from the past she had still remembered up until today.
And the moment she recoiled because she didn’t want to remember anything else about their freshman year.
Ikjun finally gives her a proper smile. Songhwa realises it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“It hurts."
Songhwa sucks in her breath sharply, the clench of her heart almost unbearable.
"I thought I was fine with just being your best friend, I really did. But it’s starting to feel difficult.” Ikjun admits, his calm demeanour breaking as he continues, “It feels difficult knowing that my feelings for you remain unchanged even after all this time.”
Her mouth turns dry in that instant, that revelation quite nearly gutting her stomach.
"It feels difficult, when you are never going to be capable of looking at me that way. That to you, I will always just be your friend,”
Ikjun scoffs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But you will never just be a friend to me. And that’s the problem.”
Somewhere between being overwhelmed with hearing something she has already suspected for some time, and the desperation to cling onto their last strand of friendship, Songhwa finally finds her voice, standing abruptly. “Ikjun-ah,”
His name is what she utters first, and it is enough for him to look at her again. He waits for her to continue, knowing there are words she wants to say, words that she clearly struggles to say. “That doesn’t change the fact that I…” Songhwa chokes on her own words, but she swallows the lump in her throat and pushes the word out, “I do love you,”
Ikjun stares at her, unfazed. He shakes his head gently, still with that smile on his face. "Loving a person and being in love are two different things."
She feels all air leave her lungs. It feels as if someone had just seared a knife through her stomach. Did Ikjun just say that he is--
"And that's really okay, you know? I am not forcing you to reciprocate my feelings. I don't want you to do something you are not comfortable with.” Ikjun states firmly, with a calm resolution. “But...but I need to think of myself, too. For once, I need to be selfish. And that is why I am asking you this question; should I give up?”
He breathes out. “Should I let go?”
Speechless, all Songhwa could do is to continue holding onto his gaze. She doesn’t dare to look away, doesn’t dare to even flinch .
He continues. “Because you are making me confused, Songhwa-ya.”
There’s guilt that starts to form in her heart, guilt she acknowledges stemming from all the times she had sought him out first, all the moments she had initiated thinking it would answer a query that has always been lying mindlessly in the deepest recesses of her heart. It starts to dawn upon her that she hardly ever even considered how he must have felt throughout all those times. She had never once checked in on him to see how he was faring after her half baked answer to him a year ago -- she had selfishly assumed that everything was alright from the way he had acted around her, misunderstanding his every action as him forgetting his confession and her answer ever happened.
When the truth is that he had done that at her expense.
Ikjun continues, the disappointment at her lack of words apparent, though he isn’t at all surprised. "There will come a time where I can't always say yes to you. There will come a time when I need to take steps back. And you need to accept that. You need to accept that I can't always be readily available for you, not if you are to me but just a friend."
She registers all of his words in her mind slowly, the lump in her throat seems larger than ever. Her eyes quiver; there are so many things she wants to tell him, but as usual, all those words are lost in tangled incoherence.
“We can’t stay like this forever, Songhwa-ya.” Ikjun whispers.
Songhwa settles for another question, instead. "Okay so...what do you need? What can I do-"
"I need to protect my heart."
Ikjun looks away.
"And I shall start by saying no."
Songhwa closes her eyes.
"No, I cannot have dinner with you. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not this weekend." He turns away, hand on her knob. He looks over his shoulder in finality. “Maybe next time.”
Next time. An unspecified period of time which may not even happen. Before Songhwa could find the words to say, the door closes behind him.
This time, it is Ikjun who leaves without waiting for her response.
This time, it is Songhwa who is at the receiving end, the hurt in her heart a startling pain that causes her to sink into her chair. She runs her hands through her hair in tangled emotions; frustration, sadness, guilt, regret.
A single, fleeting thought.
Maybe she deserves this, after all.