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Was the air here always this clean? He couldn't remember the last time he set foot here. The vibrant colours of green trees, colourful flower fields and the bright blue sky was a stark difference from the monochrome ways of the city. He couldn't remember much about his childhood, definitely, but from the last memory he had of his hometown, not much had really changed. It all still felt unfamiliar though, maybe he had gotten used to the city life he led back in Seoul.
Shin Yechan, a professional violinist in one of Korea's top orchestras, close to the ocean, back in his hometown he had once forgotten about. Not once did the idea of going back occurred to him, if it wasn't for the recent gig he landed. Sure he was a well known musician, but he does sometimes prefer having a bit of fun with his profession and working small gigs for people who could never travel to Seoul to watch expensive orchestra performances. It was one of Yechan's little joys in life, to be able to see everyone enjoy his music.
When his parents had found out he was going back, they sounded quite delighted, reminiscing about the life they led before moving to Seoul. Yechan thought that the laggy phone call didn't do such a great job at capturing his parents emotions but he knew how they felt, the duration of the call was enough for Yechan to understand. And so, he promised to spend his time back in his hometown fruitfully, for his parents,of course, but also for himself. He hasn't had much time to himself, having endless violin practice and conducting lessons, maybe this trip could be beneficial for him. A time for him to finally relax.
Taking in the sight of colourful rooftops at the edge of the shore, Yechan quickly unloaded his things from the car, before searching his pockets for a small piece of paper his parents had given him. Apparently, they were able to book him a room for a few weeks in one of the small hotels in his hometown, which was longer than he had expected to stay but it didn't matter. The small piece of paper stated the address of said hotel with a small " Have fun!!" written down in his mother's handwriting on the corner of the page.
By the time he had arrived, it was almost sunset, the sun setting right above the horizon. Most of the residents were on their way home, mothers shouting that "It's dinner time!" , children running home after a long day of playing in the flower fields. It reminded Yechan about his childhood, the freedom of being a kid who was too naive for this fast-paced world…
—
"YECHAN! IT'S DINNER TIME!"
The little boy who had been playing in the yellow canola fields with his friends not far from his house peeked out of the fields towards his blue painted rooftop. He had only just realised the golden streaks of sunset in the sky, losing track of time rolling around in the yellow field. The little boy quickly stood from where he was, dusted off the soil from his shorts and hands before dashing out of the field with his friends in tow, adrenaline still rushing from the games they had played in the field. His cheeks were flushed red from the heat of the afternoon sun, black hair ruffled with yellow petals sticking out.
Shouting his goodbyes to his friends as they part ways at the intersection, Yechan slowed down, fatigue finally hitting him. His small blue roofed house was located near the entrance of a forested hill, somewhere he would pass by everyday as he walked home from school or from the flower fields. He never paid attention to it, not many people went up the hill at sunset. This time though, as Yechan turned a corner into the alley where his house was located, he caught a glimpse of a small boy walking up the trail into the forested hill.
—
The room his parents had booked was bigger than Yechan had expected. He hadn't expected much but it was better than he thought. It was dark out when he checked in, having stopped by the sidewalk for a bit to watch the sunset. As he unpacked his things, he found that he could hear through the walls faintly, which made violin practice impossible. Yechan preferred practising alone without an audience and having thin walls would mean that people on the other side of the four walls he was stuck in could hear him. He would have to find another place to practise.
As he tried to sleep, he could hear the crickets and a tap dripping faintly from somewhere quite far away. The stillness of the night made it hard for Yechan to sleep, or even breathe. Yechan had always complained about the noise pollution from the cars but now that he was finally somewhere quiet, it seemed uncomfortable. Maybe he had just gotten too used to the city. Eventually, he decided to take a walk around the neighbourhood, to tire himself out, before calling it a night.
Despite the end of spring approaching, the air was still quite chilly, forcing Yechan to throw on a sweater before heading out. He wondered about the neighbours he had during his childhood, his friends he hadn’t met since he moved. Were they still living here? Did they move? He walked around the neighbourhood aimlessly, thinking about his childhood. He only stopped in his tracks as he passed by a familiar trail, into the forested hill. He knew the trail all too well, his memories of his childhood mainly revolved around it. Maybe that was why he never came back.
Everytime his parents brought up going back, he stalled, saying he was too busy with practice to travel. It was a half-truth, he did have to practise for performances but he could do that anywhere, as long as he had his scores and violin with him. He would push back travelling back and eventually, he never did. When he received the invitation to perform, he didn’t think to check the venue and accepted it. He only realised that the venue was the address of his hometown a few days after he had accepted the offer, it was too late by then. And so all Yechan could do was anticipate the day he finally had to travel back. He shook off his train of thought, and walked by the trail entrance, hesitating ever so slightly.
—
The little boy carrying his violin case behind him dragged his feet against the gravel. The violin bag was almost as big as his little body, as heavy as a rice sack. Yechan had spent half the day in school and the other half at the music academy his parents sent him to for violin practice. It was almost sundown, not enough time to play with his friend. Dinner was in a few hours and so Yechan decided that instead of going home, he could have some fun with his violin. He wandered around for a bit, thinking about where he could play his violin in peace and stopped at the entrance of the trail. The forested hill nobody hikes at sundown. He smiled excitedly as he skipped up the path and into the forest.
The peak was not far, it was a hill after all, and when he arrived he settled his things down on a fallen tree before looking down at the view before him. The houses closest to the shore were quite small and he could see the vast ocean and the sunset clearly from where he stood. His eyes sparkled at the sight, his smile growing bigger by the second. The fields of flowers seemed smaller than he thought they were and the boats by the port seemed like toys. Without realising, the little boy took out his violin and played a little song, one from his feelings rather than the boring music sheets he had to read at the academy. The scenery along with the melody made his body tingle in excitement, ultimately giggling to himself when he stopped playing. Time passed by quickly just like that, as the sun set and darkness slowly engulfed the previously blue sky.
The last few rays of sunlight were peeking out from beyond the horizon, as Yechan hastily packed his violin to run home before his mother started to worry and also to keep out of the dark. The little boy wouldn’t admit it, but he was terrified of the dark, afraid that there could be wild animals in the forest ready to pounce at him. He hurriedly ran down the path, careful to not slip, while looking around for animals that may be lurking nearby. Instead of an animal though, he bumped into someone, causing him to fall on his bottom, as he hid his face with his hands, terrified to look up. When nothing happened, he peeked through the gaps between his fingers and saw a boy around his age, maybe younger, with round glasses and black hair that covered his forehead. The boy had his hands stretched out, waiting for Yechan to take it. He did, standing up and dusting off the dust from the fall, looking at the boy in front of him and smiled.
The boy wasn’t familiar, Yechan had never seen him in school or around the neighbourhood. He hadn’t seen him at the playground or in the canola fields either. But Yechan had seen him somewhere, maybe once? The boy, walking up the trail the other day… ah! Yechan snapped out of his thoughts recognising the boy he had seen a few days ago. When he did, though, the other had already started walking in the opposite direction from Yechan, up the hill.
“Aren’t you scared? It is quite dark,” Yechan voiced out, turning around to look at the boy who stopped in his tracks.
“I have a flashlight. I could walk you down if you want,” he replied, fully turning around to face Yechan.
Yechan shrugged, and turned, he wouldn’t admit he was scared, not to a stranger he barely knew. He held on tighter to his violin case, hoping that Glasses Boy, something he came up with for the stranger, wouldn’t notice his fear. When he took a hesitant step, a light shone in his direction, towards the path in front of him, lighting it up so that it could be clearly seen. Yechan visibly shrunk in embarrassment, knowing that Glasses Boy was aware of his fear, he wanted to run in humiliation and he did, but not without screaming “Thank You!” as he ran down the hill, his face as red as a tomato.
—
The performance was just a few days away, the stage by the beach almost fully set up. Banners reading “PARTICIPATE IN THE TALENT SHOW TO WIN PRIZES!” were set up all around the village, enticing children and residents with the mystery prizes. From where Yechan was standing in the Town Square, he watched as children, teens and senior residents eagerly lined up to register for the talent show. The annual talent show was the biggest event of the year, according to the Mayor. Yechan had just left a meeting on the briefing of the schedule of the talent show, which was the gig he had accepted. He would be there as a special performer, the finale, closing the talent show before the results of the competition were revealed. Originally, he thought it would be fine to perform in front of many people, seeing how it was his literal job, but from the moment he left the meeting room, he felt nervous, afraid of messing up. He didn’t mess up often, and even if he did, he could cover it up easily. But he hoped not to mess up for this performance, maybe it was because he was back, maybe it was because of someone. Deep down, Yechan knew in his heart that it was probably the latter.
“Mr. Shin?” a voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
The team managing the event called out to him, looking at him curiously. Yechan realised he had slipped into his own thoughts, feeling a bit embarrassed as every member in the team looked at him. Yechan let out an awkward chuckle, hoping it would take the attention off him. Yechan guessed the team leader took the hint, quickly letting out a cough, although awkward, attracting the attention of the team members.
“Mr Shin Yechan, why don’t we head to the venue of the performance? We believe getting familiar with the stage would allow you to be more comfortable when performing,” he says, monotonously.
Before Yechan could even agree, the team had already walked ahead, Yechan quickly following suit.
The venue was much bigger than Yechan had anticipated. The town was small but the stage set up by the beach was huge with lots of chairs set up facing it. This event must really be a big deal , Yechan thought. He had never seen such a large stage for a talent show, he thought these events were only held for children. It reminded him of the line at the registration booth, maybe it wasn’t just for children after all. The stage included cool lighting, some spotlights and a huge LED screen. Okay… maybe this event really is huge. Yechan wondered how he never realised it would be this important, considering how this event was the talk of the town.
The LED screen displayed a variety of images, changing every 5 minutes. Yechan watched as the screen changed images, a short video of snowflakes falling, to a screen filled with beautiful flowers.
“Ah, Sangyeop must be preparing the display, why don’t we introduce him to you? Sangyeop-ah!”
Yechan froze.
From behind the stage, a young man, not much younger than him, strided towards them, pushing his round glasses up his nose bridge, fixing them in place. The not-so-unfamiliar stranger was taller than he was, his smile bright. The man greeted the team leader with a polite bow, as the team leader patted his back, praising him for his work on the LED screen. All Yechan could do was watch as the man giggled softly, denying the praise as he blushed slightly. Yechan felt his hands shake, watching the other smile, his eyes not leaving the other. When the man turned to face Yechan, he pried his eyes away from the man in favour of looking at the sand beneath his feet.
“Sangyeop, this is our Special Guest, Violinist Shin Yechan. Mr Shin, this is Sangyeop, he helped us out with the organisation of this event.”
“Hello, I am Choi Sangyeop, it is a pleasure to meet you!” Sangyeop greeted, enthusiastically, his voice sounded like honey in Yechan’s ears.
Yechan nodded, as he looked up to Sangyeop once again. Does he… not remember? Sangyeop’s smile was as bright as the sun and as beautiful as the canola fields, just like he remembered. There were many things Yechan remembered about Sangyeop, he just.. never dared to open his memories of him. The memories were opening up once again, the past revealing itself once more. Yechan never expected this, he had never seen Sangyeop once in the past few days. But, just as unexpectedly, Yechan was relieved he was here.
—
“You’re here again…”
Yechan, who was sitting down on the fallen tree, hugging his violin case, smiled upon hearing the familiar voice growing louder with the approaching footsteps. He turned expectantly, his eyes sparkling, his smile growing bigger as he set his gaze onto Glasses Boy.
Since the first time they met, Yechan had seen the boy multiple times, coincidentally, around the neighbourhood. They had made eye contact a few times, in which Yechan would turn away out of embarrassment as he remembered their very eventful first meeting, but Glasses Boy never brought it up again or teased him about it. Since then, Yechan had thought about him every once in a while, asking his friends and classmates about the boy but none of them really knew him. Everytime Yechan asked about Glasses Boy, everyone would reply ‘I’ve never seen anyone with round glasses before” and it would frustrate Yechan, who only wanted to know his name. As days went by, he was doubting whether Glasses Boy was real or just his imagination, so he decided that the easiest way to find him was to wait atop the hill.
And so, there he was, eyes twinkling as he finally was able to see the person he was so curious about in the past few days. Glasses Boy, only tilted his head as he walked towards the fallen tree, before stopping directly in front of Yechan who was still staring at him.
“Do you need me to help you down the hill?” he asked, unphased by the very obvious stare Yechan was holding.
Yechan pondered over the question. That isn’t what he is here for so no. But if it does get any darker…maybe? He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt warmth radiating from beside him.
“We can watch the sunset before we leave, then,” Glasses Boy mumbled, loud enough for Yechan to hear. This time, his voice came from beside Yechan, where he had taken a seat on the fallen tree. As he said that, Glasses Boy faced the sunset, the golden rays of the sun shining down on them, their faces glowing under the almost dark blue sky. Yechan noticed how the image of the sunset reflected on the other’s glasses, the sun rays, making his face glow beautifully. Yechan wondered how he had never noticed him, when he easily stood out from every other child in the neighbourhood.
“I’m Yechan...and you?” Yechan, voiced after the sunset had gone by, the sky a deep dark blue contrasting the orange sky just minutes ago. It was now too dark to see around him but Yechan kept his eyes on the other, knowing they were looking at each other despite the dark.
“..Sangyeop. Choi Sangyeop.”
With only the bright moon and the twinkling stars lighting up the night, Yechan watched as Sangyeop smiled, his eyes turning to crescent moons, and in that moment, Yechan thinks, Sangyeop has the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. So he mirrored it, his heart relieved that Sangyeop exists in his reality.
—
When he first arrived in the village, the stage had not been set, the promotional banners were nowhere to be seen. But just like the passing wind, 2 weeks had gone by in a flash and it was finally 10 hours before the talent show was set to begin. Yechan was sure he had practised enough, blisters had started to form on his hands from playing the violin too much. But, he still felt like he was lacking, like something was missing. No matter how many times he played the piece perfectly, dynamics and melodies all on point, he was never satisfied in the end. He knew he was a perfectionist, always striving to perfect the pieces he played, but this time it just felt different. The short meeting with Sangyeop didn’t help either.
They had a small chat then, about how the lighting would go, what images that would appear, the team manager had also seemed fond of Sangyeop, always praising him every now and then, and also talking about how Sangyeop was the most popular boy in the neighbourhood. Yechan had witnessed it a few times in the days that followed, how Sangyeop would help out around the neighbourhood often, and how he would play with the children as he attended to the farms and flower fields. Sangyeop had also popped up in his mind ever so often, the image of him smiling by the stage lingered, the smile Yechan had longed to see, the smile he would never forget. The smile Yechan deemed to be the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. And everytime the image of Sangyeop appeared, he couldn’t help but smile.
Seeing Sangyeop again reminded him about their shared childhood, how Yechan would play the violin up on the hill as he waited for Sangyeop to arrive, so that they could watch the sunset together. It reminded Yechan about how he once felt the freedom and enjoyment of playing the violin without restriction, how waiting for Sangyeop could make him feel all giddy and excited. How they talked through the sunsets they watched together. Yechan did not remember much about the sunsets though, but what he did remember was the way Sangyeop would giggle at little Yechan’s jokes, how Sangyeop would sit closer to Yechan each time they met, and how Sangyeop would turn on his flashlight right before it got dark because little Yechan was scared. All the little details he had remembered about Sangyeop never left his mind and every time he saw Sangyeop down in the canola fields or working at the talent show stage set, he couldn’t help but feel more burdened to be better. He wanted to show Sangyeop the best version of himself. Just like Sangyeop, who, in Yechan’s eyes, was perfect.
Maybe, he should change the piece he’ll play.
—
“I’m moving to Seoul,” Yechan mumbled under his breath.
They were atop the hill once again, this time a bit earlier as Yechan had told Sangyeop that he had something to tell him. His parents had told him the news a week prior over dinner. Yechan had always wanted to go to Seoul, to experience life in the city where schools were bigger and roads were bustling with people. He had dreamed of playing his violin to a larger crowd, imagining the cheers he’d receive. He had expected himself to feel excited over the news, but here he was relaying it to Sangyeop, eyes downcast.
Now that he was actually leaving, he thought about how he wouldn’t be able to watch the sunset again, play in the beautiful yellow canola fields, how Sangyeop wouldn’t be where the city was. Somehow, as they watched the sunset everyday for weeks together, Yechan looked forward to seeing Sangyeop. Being able to meet Sangyeop was the highlight of his day and now that he was leaving, he felt as if he would be losing a part of himself. He didn’t want to leave Sangyeop to watch the sunsets alone.
“Well, why do you look upset? You’ve always wanted to go there,”
“Yea… but what about the sunsets? I won’t be able to see them when I move,”
“Silly, the sun won’t disappear when you’re there. There are still sunsets”
“But I can't watch them with you,”
Silence.
Confused by the silence, Yechan looked up, meeting Sangyeop’s eyes. They had exchanged eye contact many times but why did it feel as if Sangyeop wanted to say something. Something that was important, but he was unable to say it. Yechan tried to search for the words in his eyes, which were as deep as the ocean. After what felt like hours, Sangyeop pried his eyes away looking back at the sunset, before Yechan could understand what Sangyeop wanted him to know, he was frustrated but he didn’t pry into it further. They sat in silence, as the sun fell behind the horizon slowly, the clouds turning pink, the sky a pastel purple in colour.
“Can you play your violin? I’ve never heard you play before,” Sangyeop broke the silence between them.
“I don’t have a piece I’m pra—”
“Not a piece you’re learning. Just make up a melody to play, with how you feel now,” Sangyeop interrupted.
How he felt? He was not advanced enough to come up with something grand like the pieces he was taught to play, but if Sangyeop wanted something, anything in the world, he’d give it to him in a heartbeat. So he picked up his violin, and without much hesitation he started, a melody he had never learned but one he made up. It was not grand, it was rather simple, any beginner would be able to play it, but it was his. A melody made from the sunsets they shared, the games they played under the stars, a melody made for him.
Sangyeop clapped along as Yechan played, sniffling and hoping Yechan didn’t see it.
—
Despite being alone on stage, the nerves disappeared as soon as he started, playing the melody based on memory. The song for him. The crowd was silent for a split second when he ended, before it erupted into loud cheers and claps. Patches of the audience could be seen standing, some had tears in their eyes, just like Yechan did. His eyes searched the crowd for one, hoping he was there to hear it, how he had developed the simple melody into something that was grand, something he had created for him, only based on how he felt for him. His eyes finally landed on a familiar pair of glasses, The silhouette neither cheering nor clapping, but Yechan knew the feeling they shared. The smiling image of him from afar, brighter than any star that existed in the night sky. The smile that screamed ‘I missed you’.
.
.
.
The cold wind surrounded him, the leaves dancing in the dark. The trees swayed subtly in the cold wind, as Yechan walked up the path. The talent show was over and everyone had gone home for the night. After he stepped down from the stage, the winners were announced and Yechan was given the honour of gifting the prize to the winners of the talent show. Much to Yechan’s surprise the gift was not as big as he thought it would be, just a 100 dollar gift voucher for a department store just an hour away from the village.
His steps started slow, but as the anticipation of seeing what lies at the end of this familiar path grew, he picked up his pace. He clutched his violin case, which he had brought along thinking that if he had wasted time leaving it back in his room, he would miss the person he wanted to see most. Steps turned to strides and strides turned to a light jog uphill. He felt a mix of emotions, anticipation, fear, hope but all of it turned into relief, the moment he reached the peak. As he panted from the run up the hill, he saw a familiar silhouette sitting on the fallen tree, his head turned in Yechan’s direction, smiling softly.
Sangyeop.
“You missed it. The sunset.” Sangyeop voiced.
This time, Yechan didn’t hold himself back. As soon as Sangyeop finished his sentence, Yechan wrapped his arms around him tight, hugging Sangyeop as if it was the last. He felt Sangyeop twitch a little, due to Yechan’s unexpected action but soon felt his warm hands on his back, caressing it.
“I’m sorry for not contacting you, I know I promised I’d be back but… I just couldn’t bring myself to. I was afraid I wouldn’t want to leave once I did,” Yechan rambled, his voice shaking as he held back his tears. He didn’t want to cry, not now at least.
“And.. I’ve missed you. I really, really missed you…”
“...I did too. Thanks for coming back.” Sangyeop whispered, as he buried his face into Yechan’s neck, breathing in his scent.
Hearing those words, Yechan felt his tears fall down his cheeks, finally in the arms of the person he had longed for the most.
—
“Yechan.”
As soon as he heard his voice, Yechan turned to where it was coming from. There stood Sangyeop, awkwardly standing outside his home.
“Sangyeop? What are you doing here?”
It was finally the day Yechan had to leave. Yechan’s family had a few more things to pick up from their home before finally settling into their new home in Seoul. He hadn’t expected to see Sangyeop since they had only met up the hill in the evenings. It seemed as if Sangyeop had ran to see him, he was panting and his face was red from the heat.
“Since you’re leaving today, I, uh, wanted to give you this, Don’t open it before you leave,” Sangyeop says as he holds out a little paper crane.
Yechan stared at the crane Sangyeop held in his palms, wide-eyed. Honestly, he really wanted to avoid seeing Sangyeop before he left. He was afraid he would want to stay here, with him so that they could continue watching the sunsets together. Sangyeop nudged him a little, snapping Yechan out of his thoughts. Sangyeop was still holding up the crane, waiting for Yechan to take it. Yechan reached out and grabbed the crane. While doing so, he noticed the way Sangyeop smiled a little sadly. It was his usual smile but his eyes didn’t hold its usual brightness. It stung Yechan’s heart a bit to see Sangyeop in this state but he decided against saying anything, afraid that if he did, he would refuse to leave.
“Thanks. I’ll… come visit often,” Yechan opted to say instead.
He smiled as brightly as he could, hoping he could hide his feelings from Sangyeop before making his way to the moving truck. Sangyeop stayed in the spot he stood, his eyes following Yechan. As Yechan got into the truck, his parents had finished collecting all they needed and started to drive off. As the truck drove off, Yechan caught a glimpse of Sangyeop from the side view mirror, his face in his hands. Regret quickly rushed into him, for not saying the words he wanted, for leaving Sangyeop to watch the sunsets on his own again.
Remembering the paper crane, he took it out of his pocket and carefully undid the folds, remembering them so that he could fold it back into a crane. The unfolded paper was creased but it contained a short letter, in Sangyeop's handwriting. It was the first time Yechan had seen his handwriting, and it was as pretty as he had expected.
Thanks for being my first friend. Although it was short, I had a lot of fun watching the sunsets together and listening to you play your violin. I hope you achieve what you've always wanted in Seoul. Don’t feel too bad that you’re leaving. I’ll watch the sunsets when I miss you. And, I hope the sunsets there are as pretty as the ones here.
Little Yechan believed that he was someone who wouldn't cry easily. That day, he realised he was a lot more fond of Sangyeop than he thought he was.
—
They sat there for hours, talking about everything that had happened while they were apart under the night sky. Sangyeop talked about how he made new friends after Yechan had left and how he would still watch the sunsets in the evenings.
Yechan thinks he's more talkative than before, as he listened to Sangyeop go on about how much the village had changed over the years. Yechan doesn't mind it, he liked hearing Sangyeop's voice the most. He laughed along to jokes Sangyeop would make and answered Sangyeop's questions eagerly, hoping that time would stop and that he could live in that moment for as long as he lived.
"So… the talent show is over. What are you going to do?"
Ah.
Yechan had almost forgotten, he had to leave soon, now that the event was over. His face turned sour quickly, realising he'd have to leave Sangyeop again, after years of distance.
"I guess, I'll have to go back."
Only the rustle of leaves was heard for a while. They sat in silence, watching the stars. Being older didn’t mean partings hurt less, in fact it hurt more to leave Sangyeop behind again. Yechan didn’t want to leave behind this comfort, the person who was always on his mind while he was in Seoul. The person who supported his dream.
“Have you ever thought of moving to Seoul? The sunsets there aren’t as pretty and the stars can barely be seen. But, I think it’ll be fun with you.”
Maybe all this time, Yechan just wanted Sangyeop to be with him, longing for his presence all while chasing his own dreams.
Yechan pried his eyes away from the stars, in favour of looking into Sangyeop’s eyes. It was dark but he could clearly see them. The stars reflecting off his glasses and irises, those dark eyes which were staring right back at him. The smile on Sangyeop’s face growing bigger and the warmth that he felt in his hand.
“I’m sure the sunsets there will be beautiful when we’re watching them together.”