Chapter Text
Jongseob had half of a small baguette in his hands, one that had been evenly divided between him and Shota. As was usual, the two of them sat on a large boulder that resided next to the pond. Jongseob tore off chunks of the bread, little by little, throwing them sporadically as Shota did the same. They don’t talk much; they usually don't, so as not to scare any of the fish away. Jongseob can’t identify any of the fish that he sees, but he still likes to at least make note of what color they are. There was a strange, calm feeling that resided within him as he heard the sounds of the flow of the water.
One specific fish caught Jongseob’s eye, one that couldn’t seem to catch a piece of bread. Jongseob tore off a piece, aiming again and again for that same fish, but the others were quick to take their friend’s bread. It was mildly upsetting; he had thrown out more than a moiety of his bread for that fish. At the same time, he’s annoyed with the fish around that one in particular, and he also wonders why the fish has failed to catch a piece of his own after Jongseob had given it so many chances. The simple conclusion he came to was, what a dumb fish.
“Jongseob-ah, why do fish like bread?” Shota asks, still picking his bread apart and throwing it into the water ahead.
“Why?” Jongseob replies, waiting for the punchline.
Shota stops mid-throw, his face confused, “Huh?” Shota withdraws his hand, “Did I say it wrong?”
“I’m not sure how to translate what you said into Japanese,” Jongseob says, pausing briefly, “But it sounded like the start of a joke.”
Shota shakes his head, then refocused on the fish as he spoke, “I said it right then. But it wasn’t a joke. I was just curious why fish like bread so much.”
Jongseob is slightly embarrassed by the misunderstanding, but brushes it off. “I don’t know either,” he says.
Shota hums in acknowledgment. Throwing his last chunk of bread into the water, he announces, “We should probably go now.” Jongseob nods, then quickly discards the remaining bread in his hands, too. Jongseob jumps down from the boulder onto the ground first, extending a hand for Shota. Shota reaches out to accept, though just before he takes his step down, he nearly slips. Jongseob rushes to grab onto Shota’s hand, helping him regain his balance again. Both of them sigh at the same time, and Shota steps down extra carefully. Jongseob lingers a bit too long, and he hopes that Shota hasn’t noticed. “Thanks,” Shota says.
Shota grabs Jongseob’s backpack from the side of the path back up to the mainroads, he hands it to him before grabbing his own, slinging it on himself. They walk side by side, same as any other morning: Feed the fish, walk to the university building, listen to lectures, walk back to the dorm, that was their cycle. It didn’t feel repetitive, or at least not in a way that was unpleasant. Jongseob liked the consistency of it all. He liked being around Shota. Before Shota transferred, all Jongseob did was all those things alone, so he was grateful to now have company.
They’re walking normally until Shota begins to skip. Jongseob raises a brow and continues to walk as normal. “Why are you skipping?”
“It’s faster,” Shota answers simply.
“You look stupid,” Jongseob says, with no real crudeness in his voice. Shota giggles, but he doesn’t stop.
“Skip with me,” Shota says.
“I’m good,” Jongseob retorts. Shota stops in his tracks, which by proxy causes Jongseob to do the same. Shota grabs onto Jongseob’s arm, pulling Jongseob as he returns to skipping. Jongseob almost eats concrete then and there. “Shota!” Jongseob shouts, his feet stumbling.
“Just do it,” Shota says. Left with no other choice, Jongseob does it, which amuses Shota greatly. Shota had a certain way of getting Jongseob to do stuff like this, but that was how they became friends in the first place. “See? You’re smiling, you’re having fun.” Jongseob wasn’t aware that he had been smiling in the first place. Shota squeezes his hand happily, and even though they eventually stop skipping, Jongseob doesn’t say anything to Shota about the fact that he hadn’t let go of his hand.
Though of course, they do have to part ways for their separate lectures. The only time they ran into each other was during the basic literature course everyone was required to take in their year. Jongseob was glad to be there because it allowed him to be helpful. While most of the time, Shota simply undermined his Korean abilities, Jongseob still enjoyed being there just in case.
Shota focuses harder than anyone else, pushing himself to improve his skills. Jongseob had started learning Japanese to help aid Shota to his best capabilities. In general, Jongseob just wanted to be able to communicate with Shota as best as he could. Not that Jongseob hadn’t thought so before, but Shota was amazing. Learning a new language was so difficult, and in the two years that Jongseob had known him, he definitely spoke Korean better than Jongseob spoke Japanese.
Sometimes Jongseob remembers the first day he met Shota, sitting by himself in another literature class much similar to the one they took now. For some reason, Jongseob had felt so inclined to sit next to Shota, and then he had done the same thing the next day, and then the day after that.
They had really gotten close when Shota showed Jongseob the pond. It was just when they decided to walk to class together from the dormitory to the main building. Shota had told him he had something cool to show him, but that he had to make sure to wake up early. The next day, Shota took him on a detour to the pond he had now become so familiar with. That was the first time they broke bread together as well, Jongseob remembered thinking it was funny when Shota had pulled the baguette out of his backpack. He also remembered asking, ‘Was that in there the whole time?’
Shota taps on Jongseob's shoulder, pulling him back into the present. “What are you laughing about?” Shota whispers.
“Huh? Nothing,” Jongseob answers. Shota nods suspiciously, but nonetheless turns back to where their professor stood. Jongseob forced himself to focus then, too. The whiteboard behind the professor had a quote written.
“To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them.”
-Hamlet Act 3. sc 1
“This is Hamlet’s most famous soliloquy,” the professor states, turning to look at the quote on the board, then back at the students, “Though most of the time when we hear this quote, it stops about here,” the professor points to the first line. “So why do people avoid it?” The professor asks, looking around for perhaps someone to answer, but no one seems to want to. “People don’t like to be aware of their own mortality. It’s unsettling to most,” the professor explains. “Shakespeare asks us all this: if we as people know we will all die and that existence is nothing but an eternal struggle, why not fight back, ‘oppose,’ why not put an end to it?” The professor questions.
Jongseob begins to tap his leg subconsciously, and he sees Shota briefly look at him through the corner of his eye. Jongseob writes down the quote citations in his notes, which is the only thing written for his notes for the whole lecture, as it was the extent of what he had absorbed.
“Did you understand what the professor was talking about?” is the first thing Shota says when they get out of the lecture hall. They walk together to leave the building.
“I think so,” Jongseob replies. “I think it’ll be easier to understand when we actually start reading,” he says.
Shota sighs, “I hope so, I didn’t get it at all.”
“We can read together if you want,” Jongseob offers.
Shota smiles at that, “Sure, let’s do that.”
“Did you already get a copy of the book?” Jongseob asks.
Shota shakes his head, “Not yet, but I will soon.”
Jongseob opens the exit door for Shota, “We can go…” Jongseob trails off, noticing as soon as he looks outside how hard the rain is coming down. There was a book store in walking distance, but the rain was also absurd.
“Hmm?” Shota questions.
Jongseob walks through the door, shaking his head to himself, “Nothing.” Shota shrugs.
For the most part, they are able to avoid getting wet. Of course, the dormitories of the school must be close by. Jongseob first walks up to Shota to his dorm, then says bye for the day. Just before Jongseob enters his own dorm, key in hand, he stops for a moment. Jongseob groans, then takes the key back out of the door, shoving it into his pocket, and then heading back out into the rain.
Despite how short the distance was, the rain poured so hard that it was one of the most miserable experiences of Jongseob’s life. Being cold, he also moves physically slowly. Jongseob endured it all, deciding it was much too late to turn back now. By the time he reaches the bookstore, he's pretty much drowned. The bookstore was at least warm, so that was a small bit of relief. Jongseob quickly grabs two copies of Hamlet and checks out. Back on his way to the dorm, out of nowhere, he cannot seem to stop sniffing. Shit, he thinks.