Chapter Text
Seoul outshines everything in its vicinity, towers rise high over the crowded asphalt ground, and the Han River does not sparkle in the same way tinted glass and structural metal gleams in the morning.
Jeno didn't stay in Seoul for the past ten years for the view, but in traffic, he enjoys the hues of pink across the water, the reflective gloss of car finish at dawn. His coffee keeps him mildly jittery in his seat, and as the infinite lines stay stagnant, he idly tries to switch away from a radio show ad.
Everything is so familiar that it almost feels like a regular morning to work, and if Jeno takes a turn now and drives for a few more minutes, he will see his office building tower over him just as he passes the toll to the parking lot. But the cars start moving again, and today, he drives past the long line waiting to exit. It’s a slow crawl out of the city, but once Jeno reaches the outskirts, he hits the gas pedal with glee.
Where the river meets the sea, the air gains a distinctive tang, a mustier and brinier smell than the light smog and burning fuel. The skyline Seoul boasts loudly over its shorter neighbors shrinks into smaller, low-rise buildings before completely disappearing behind rough hills, dusty cliffs, and overgrown shrubbery.
After driving forever on the newly paved roads that run across the entirety of the island, its early morning emptiness leaves only the wide stretches of technicolor blue worth viewing. On Ganghwa Island, Jeno has only ever looked at the sky, and this late in the morning, the island unfolds all the gold it has on Earth into the swirls of clouds and canvas of aqua. A rather warm welcome for someone who left so long ago.
Jeno makes his final turn, and following the path to its end, he notices his father’s truck is not parked here.
He drives back to the main road and goes to the only other place his parents will be. Of course, his parents were off at work already. Jeno parks in the nearby lot and kicks up the loose dirt in the slight wind in the air. His sneakers protect him from the dusty ground because the grit and dust find their way into every crevice on Ganghwa Island.
The last time his parents visited him at his apartment, they haven’t changed at all, not a wrinkle despite the onslaught of light over their heads, not a gray hair with the help of the local salon. Their small sedge building has remained the same as well. Despite the island’s ruthless summer storms, the walls are a perfect mauve, the roof the same inky gray, and off to the side, the small smoking warehouse stands strong with its turquoise tarp.
“Jeno!” his mom squeals when she looks up from the tossed sedge on the ground. “You’re back!”
Occasionally, his mom shows up at his door to check on him with bags of homemade dishes. She always looks out of place in his apartment, her city outfits a little too formal for his messy living room. To see her at her most comfortable, in colorful floral prints and the old, weathered straw hat she wore since she picked him up in first grade, she looks better.
She brushes off the dust on her clothes and pulls him into her arms, the smell of earth and baby lotion itching his nose as she clings to his shoulders, her arms barely wrapping around his back. “My sweet angel finally came home,” she says, letting go of him only to look at his face more closely. Her hands, warm yet tough, grasp on his fingers, and she smiles as bright as the sun. “I didn’t think I would see you walking around here until you were going to have a family.”
“Mom,” Jeno whines with a frown, shaking her light grasp off his hands.
“I just thought you never would’ve come back if you didn’t have to. We’re sorry you had to take time off work. Grandma’s doing better than you think. You can go back to Seoul in no time."
“I wanted to come here myself instead of... later. I already took time off, and I needed a vacation anyway. I was bound to come home one day, right?”
The silence is brief but not uncomfortable because his mom understands the lure of the city as a former Seoul native herself. Underneath the shadow of her brim, she observes him, her dark eyes roaming to see her son back at home. There's nothing scary about it, but he shivers under her scrutiny, unable to see what she sees before her.
“Is Grandma feeling better now?” Jeno brings up his eyes darting around the few other women sitting underneath the worktable and its pop-up tent.
His mother pats his arm. “She’s fine. Better than ever in fact. She’s back in the fields again.”
Jeno scowls, his shoulders immediately tensing at her optimistic tone. “Why would you let her go to the fields? Her back is already--”
“Because she wanted to,” his father interrupts him, running out of the sedge building with enough energy for his glasses to slip off his nose. “Nice to see you home, son,” his dad greets as if it was just another day, a grin so wide and teeth so straight it reminds Jeno of his own. His dad’s eyes dart between Jeno and his mom before smiling again, this time slightly tight at the corners.
“Can you lend us a hand? Some of the sedge grew earlier than usual. Climate change, am I right?”
Jeno doubts that’s how climate change works, but his dad doesn’t wait for an answer, and Jeno follows his unfaltering steps to his dad’s truck. When they arrive at the other side of the island, where he can see just about see North Korea, his dad stops at the sedge paddy. His dad greets the workers waiting for the truck, tied bundles of sedge at their feet, and walking down to the paddy, he shouts a greeting to the rest, shin-deep in the muddy water. They are all dressed like his mother with identical bright prints to avoid the afternoon heatwave.
Jeno wears a smile and bows to the older women, but no conversation starts. Their work always comes first in the paddy. It's far too hot to waste any time here.
“I thought you would never return so early,” his dad says, unknowingly repeating his wife’s words as he passes Jeno the first few stray sedges on the ground. They go down the dry land away from the water, collecting the sedges the workers in the paddy pulled out for them.
“Why wouldn’t I see Grandma when she’s sick,” Jeno grumbles as he bends to pick up more stalks of sedge.
“Don’t say it like that, son,” his dad chides him, his even temperament reminiscent of Jeno’s usual one. “Your grandma is still living the happiest days of her life. She never listens to what we say. We can’t even make her stop washing the rice to death. She still goes on and on until the water is clear.”
“I do that too. It's how a lot of people make rice.”
His dad makes a funny noise behind his throat. “You don’t even cook. Don’t act like I didn’t see all the delivery coupons on your fridge.”
“I cook sometimes,” Jeno tries to defend himself, but his dad’s right. Jeno doesn’t even remember the last time he used his rice cooker, or even where his rice cooker was.
“Come on, we just need to reach there,” his dad points further down the field, stalks and stalks and even more stalks of sedge on the empty dirt path waiting to be collected. Jeno swiftly scoops the sedges into his arms, but someone in the field shouts as more get tossed up before he can get the next few. "Don't bend them!"
“I know,” Jeno groans, straightening the piles dangling over him to prevent bending. A bent sedge was useless, and even though hwanmunseok, a sedge mat, is nowhere near as popular as it used to be, his parents took great pride in providing material for the traditional craft. He looks at the worker who scolded him, and he finds a vaguely familiar face. “Jaemin?”
Jaemin blinks the sweat out of his eyes as he moves his straw hat away higher. “Jeno? You’re back?”
They weren’t all that close, but Jaemin is hard to forget. He had a notoriety for his looks in high school, and his face only improved with time. Jeno never imagined he would find him working with his parents. Jaemin was a city kid, one whose small family moved to Ganghwa Island for whatever reason.
“Yeah, I am. I’m back for a few weeks. It's been a while, huh?”
“How have you been?” Jaemin politely asks.
“Fine. I guess. Uh…” Jeno tries to answer, “I kind of …” Luckily, Jaemin’s mom interrupts the jumble of words leaving his mouth.
“It’s been so long, Jeno. Your mother worries so much about you. It’s so nice to see you back,” She gushes, pushing her hat up to get a better view of him. “Haven’t you grown to be so handsome? Seoul’s been treating you very well, I’ve heard?”
Jeno answers her with a grin and before she can say anything else, he rushes down the path to lift the other sedges off the dirt, putting himself back to work instead of making more conversation. His dad is already far ahead, and Jeno catches up slowly. The sedges are light, tube-like long grasses, but their weight adds up very quickly and by the time they collect most of them, moving back and forth the path as the farmhands collect more, it’s late midday, and he’s starting to regret wearing black.
“I thought you said there were only a few,” Jeno complains as he lifts a bunch more, knees cracking as he stands up.
His dad chuckles, shaking his head as he stops him from tipping over. “Compared to the entire field, it isn’t a lot. You should wait and see us in August.”
“December would be better,” Jeno grunts as he goes back down and up again for another piece of sedge.
“Are you only staying for a week?”
“Two weeks," He corrects. It's been two weeks for the last ten years away.
When all the ripe sedge has been ripped out, the workers crawl out of the net, and Jeno chooses to fall back in their line, observing the few other workers moving alongside him. Jaemin was slow, last picked for relay races back in high school but now carries an extra load of sedges in his arms as well as his own, his walk steady and purposeful, unlike Jeno’s awkward swaying steps.
“How’s everyone?” Jeno asks, trying to make small talk as they trudge back.
Jaemin shrugs despite the sedge. “They’re fine, I guess. People left. Some people stayed.”
“How about Donghyuck?”
Jaemin gives a look to him over the bundles of sedge on his shoulders. “He still works at the store on weekdays,” Jaemin says with a knowing tone despite the two minutes they spent together. “You should make it if you go now.”
Before Jeno can reply, they arrive at his dad’s truck, a few workers already tying their sedge with black string. Jaemin passes the bundle of sedges to them and goes to help the others fill the trunk. He moves swiftly to avoid bending them like Jeno almost did, lifting each tied bunch with ease. When the workers disperse from their jobs, cars picking them up for their scheduled break, his dad drops him off at his car by the warehouse. “We have to work until 8, so I’ll see you at dinner.”
Jeno nods. “I think I’ll go to the store. Catch up with some people.” Some people as in Donghyuck and only him.
"Of course. Go meet with your friends. Mom’s going to cook a feast at home by the time you’re done.” Before Jeno can add anything else, his dad drives off and Jaemin is gone like that too. If Jeno looks back at the truck, he can just make out his broad silhouette beside his father.
Somehow, so many hours have already passed by when he arrives at the store, the evening sky bleeding blues and reds around the building. The general store is in the more distant part of the island, where tourists are few and elderly abundant. Sandwiched between two small neighborhoods, the store sits on a road far off the main roads as a simple red-brick building with one large window divided into two sections. White light shines outside the store, illuminating the empty bench and assorted flower pots around the doorway.
The bell rings when Jeno swings the door open, and Donghyuck looks up from the counter, his dyed brown, fluffy hair fluttering on his forehead as he perks up. His cheeks and lips look extra soft underneath the glowing electrical light above him, and his face twists from boredom to surprise to faux casualness when he sees him.
“Jeno, you’re back,” Donghyuck grunts half-heartedly. The rhythm of Jeno's heart pounding against his rib cage is all he can hear before he takes a long breath in, gulping down his excitement with a slow exhale.
They recently reconnected after four years with no communication, the first time since middle school when they haven't talked to each other. Jeno’s excuse was his new, higher-paying but exhausting job, and Donghyuck stopped texting after a while, tired of the slow replies. A few weeks ago, when Jeno’s grandma told him about her upcoming surgery, Donghyuck reached out to him, and everything came back naturally. Donghyuck’s family had the store, three small greenhouses, and a stand at the market to take care of every day which meant physical appearances were practically impossible. Jeno doesn't think he has seen his friend since he left for Seoul.
“I'm back for two weeks so if you can convince me to stay then, you can see my face all the time."
“Like I would want to see your face that much,” Donghyuck jokes with a cheeky grin. “You heard about your grandma, right?”
“Yeah, she keeps going to the fields and working even with her back. I don’t know why my parents haven’t stopped her.”
Donghyuck nods, but he doesn't look down even though Jeno is sure Donghyuck likes his grandma over his own. “She’s a force to be reckoned with, and I think the surgery did work. Nothing can stop her from going about anyway. She's just like you, Mr. I Want to Live in Seoul Forever. I always thought you would come back during college. Then I thought you would come back after college. And then after you got a job whenever you could bring gifts back. And by gifts, I mean, good gifts. And here you are, completely empty handed. I would’ve hunted you down myself if I wanted to see your stupid face.”
Jeno rolls his eyes. “I gave you your birthday gift.”
“Like I needed any more t-shirts. This is a reunion gift for your return to the new Ganghwa Island,” Donghyuck says, waving his hands in the air like this place has a new amusement park and not freshly paved asphalt and sparkling glass windows. “You should be more excited. Your parents were pretty happy, right? Son finally back home. I think Jisung might cry if he sees you like standing here."
"That twerp? Really?”
Donghyuck rests his face in his palm as he shakes his head, hair swiveling around him cutely. “He adored you. You don’t get kids. That boy would go crazy if he knew you were back.”
"What is he doing these days?”
“He’s still trying things out. Oh, to be young again. He worked at a cafe for a while, and then moved on to be a bellboy. I think he’s working with Jaemin now or something. He talks an awful lot about sedge.”
Jeno’s face falls just a little. “Jaemin with Jisung?”
“Yeah. I think he dragged Jisung to the sedge paddy a couple of times.”
“I didn’t see Jisung today though.” Only Jaemin was there, standing high over the old women around him. Sedge farming has never been a job for the youthful, and his parents knew the women long before Jeno was even born. Jeno isn't sure how Jaemin can convince Jisung to work under the sun and in water for so many hours. "I know my parents are understaffed, but Jisung is a low, low choice."
Donghyuck shrugs. “Jisung moves everywhere. He might’ve switched jobs already.”
“I always thought he would’ve followed his brother to college.”
“His parents needed him at home,” Donghyuck sighs. “Not like it makes that much of a difference. Almost everyone left. They go to college, and then poof, they’re gone.” His eyes look through Jeno’s with just the hint of a glare. “I guess, you aren’t that bad though. You are the first one to come back.”
Jeno brushes his hair back, trying to not fidget under his stare. He doesn’t feel guilty, it’s been too long to feel any shame for moving away, but he does feel bad for Donghyuck and Jisung, the ones who witnessed everyone leave when they know couldn’t. “I guess we all had the same idea,” He manages to reply sheepishly.
“People come in and out all the time. New people are interesting, but it's not the same. It feels weird seeing you like this. Dressed like that,” Donghyuck grumbles, waving up and down at Jeno’s body.
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” Jeno whines. He chose it very deliberately, and he's pretty sure an all-black outfit is the safest option there is, but Donghyuck continues to shake his head, sucking his teeth in dismay.
“When you were here, you wore giant t-shirts and stupid gym shorts everywhere. You were so puny then. God, where has the time gone?” Donghyuck cries dramatically, throwing his face to the counter.
“It was enough time for you to grow taller, but you seemed to have regressed,” Jeno points out.
Donghyuck huffs, choosing to ignore him as he continues on his tangent. “You’re wearing ripped jeans, Jeno. I’d rather see you in your stupid gym shorts. What has Seoul done to you?”
Jeno scoffs, but he can’t hold his giggles down any longer. Donghyuck was just Donghyuck. He could never win against him. Except in gaming. Jeno definitely defeats him in games. “Fine,” Jeno resigns himself. “You win.”
Donghyuck smiles as wide as when Jeno first dared to take his hand back in kindergarten, and more than a few butterflies flutter in his stomach. Donghyuck’s smile, no matter how devious, has always been effortlessly brilliant.
A few people come into the store, and Jeno steps away from the register. He stands by the closet where the stray cat likes to nap, silently watching Donghyuck chat up a storm with the old couple and their presumed grandchild. Donghyuck talks animatedly, his eyes and mouth more expressive than Jeno ever likes to be with strangers.
Without him, Jeno can’t imagine how different his life would have been. From the first day, they were nearly inseparable. At Jeno’s house, they held sleepovers, in which they played video games and ate chips until his mother forced them into bed. The nearby mountains were the lands of their great adventures, camping for a few hours after school before rushing home when it gets too dark. Middle school was when his admiration started to come from another area entirely.
It's how Donghyuck easily captures everyone’s attention, his easy and kind disposition that signals his jokes are never meant to harm even when Jeno wants him to shut up sometimes. Donghyuck was also taller in those pre-teen days, boasting his new height growth spurt after growth spurt. Little Jeno couldn’t handle the way Donghyuck’s bangs began to sweep over his round eyes. He adored how his sweet voice outsang everyone in karaoke and stung when he was in the mood to tease.
Jeno remembers the dreams he formed back then. Their grades were similar when Donghyuck didn’t divide his time between school and work, and Jeno imagined moving out together after for college, living together well after they graduate. Same dorm, same college, same city. He can’t help missing that dream, especially when they talk about the past, the way ice cream used to taste different, and everything was so much cheaper.
When Donghyuck finishes his work, cheerfully telling the customers to have a good rest of the day, he beckons Jeno to come back. “You’re staying for two weeks, right?” he re-affirms with a devious smirk. “You don’t happen to be on Friday night by any chance? We are planning to go out to Seoul that day. Visit some bars, you know Seoulite stuff. Wanna come?”
Jeno pretends to think. “You want me to go back to Seoul to do stuff I usually do and then come back to this place? Isn’t that counterproductive to my whole trip here?”
Donghyuck snorts, the sound cute despite his eye roll. “Unless you want to spend Friday night counting the amount of ramen packages on the shelves or something, I don’t think you have anything more interesting than this. You need to see Jisung drunk. He’s so cute.”
Jeno scrunches his nose. Jisung, cute?
“You like the idea already, right? I know you adore him. He’ll love to see you there. I’ll just give everyone a heads up that you’re coming, okay?”
“Fine. Who are the others?”
“Besides Jisung and me, there’s Jaemin and…uh…maybe Taeyong?”
“That’s it?”
Donghyuck blinks. “We don’t have a lot of people around our age anymore. Everyone else has busier lives or moved out.”
“I can invite some people to meet up if you want?”
“We're good. Your friends are probably just like you, quiet, working, and stuff. Seoul already has Seoul people anyway.”
Jeno pouts. “Am I not a real Seoul person?”
Donghyuck giggles, a small victory in erasing Jeno’s not-funny image and a new record for how fast his heart can race today. “To me, you’re just cute, old Jeno. You can never erase Ganghwa Island out of you. It’s still your home.”
When he says it, Jeno almost believes it.