1 5

All is quiet. Peaceful. No sight of a living soul. Not even chirping of a bird or a cricket chatter could be heard. Only a fly or two flies before my eyes.

I'm standing at the entrance of a place that looks abandoned. Woods of houses surrounds us like evergreen trees climbing up high to touch the sky. Wooden walls envelop the one-storey in front of which are pink flowers scattered, indicating that maybe somebody still lives here.

And so I stand, looking, admiring, but not daring to move a step further. I ask, ''Why are we here?''

When I hear loud closing of the car doors behind, a voice, like a gurgle of water, becomes louder and more vibrant when it's coming towards me. ''I'll lock you up in the basement, tie you up and then wait for you to die of starvation.''

My stomach drops beneath my feet as I turn my head, to look at Taehyung standing next to me. ''What?''

The car keys cackle when he puts them in the suit that looks as if the gods above wove them in gold. Before showing his other hand in the other pocket of the blazer, he smiles, ''I'm kidding, darling. You wanted to get to know me, yeah? This is the place.'' He then says, his legs soon go forward, leaving me behind with a stupid look on my face.

Nothing is clear to me, and that was obvious.

When the distance between us grows bigger, I panic and rush after him. ''Wait!''

Taehyung is already standing on the front porch that squeaks under his weight. Once leaning a hand against the slightly busted wooden door, he knocks four times.

I cross my hands and wait for someone, or something to show up.

But everything is so quiet.

Just then when I hear clicking of a key against a lock, and a door opening very slowly, my eyes widen as I'm peeking behind Taehyung's back.

''Taehyungie!'' A humming voice appears and a moment later, an older woman stands in front of us. And Taehyung, with his height, stands proudly, his existence shadowing her entire being. Only after he hugs her, I can see her face. Deep bags circled her eyes, and the long braided hair was painted in grey, but her smile, no matter how difficult her life might've been, her smile was so alive.

''Hey ma'', Taehyung's eyes glisten and she embraces his hand in hers, squeezing it so tight her knuckles go white.

''Little boy, where have you been?''

But Taehyung doesn't speak, only lowers his head and smiles truthfully.

Maybe he was already expecting this question, because like any other women, who worries so much that her faces ages rapidly, always needs to make sure that her young ones are okay, safe and sound that is.

''Look at you!'' Her tired eyes glance at the tall man up and down, her wrinkled hands now squeezing both his upper arms. ''You've grown so much. And my, my, how skinny you are. Does my son not feed you enough? How is he? How are you? How is your sister, Eonjin and the little Jeonggyu? Have you eaten yet? I'm making japchae, your favorite.'' When she catches herself rambling, a light sigh escapes her lips before a wide smile stretches across them. ''I'm so happy you're here.''

Then she looks behind him, and when her eyes meet mine, they go back to Taehyung within seconds, eyebrows knitting along. ''Who's the beautiful young lady? Why haven't you introduced me to her yet? Yah, I thought I raised you better.''

After a light slap against Taehyung's arm, she walks down from the porch and wipes her hands off of what seemed to be a handmade apron tied tightly around her waist.

''I'm sorry dear. Taehyungie here, inherited this rudeness from the other side of the family.'' She holds my hand for so long that I feel the heat from her body passing onto mine.''Would you like to come in?''

But I don't know what to say.

And I feel uncomfortable. I'm an intruder, not belonging here and I don't want to disturb a family gathering. So I bow my head, apologizing for bothering in the first place but before my tongue gets a chance to say something, the woman pulls my wrist and frowns motherly, as if I had done something I shouldn't have.

''Aish, I won't accept no for an answer.'' Pulling me forward, we slowly come inside and I give Taehyung a look behind my back, but he just laughs, shrugging his shoulders along.

The woman chirps, ''Come in, come in.''

Once I'm inside, the smell of cooking and freshly washed clothes are welcoming me. With the tip of my fingers, I remove my outworn shoes and when Taehyung does the same, we enter a modest looking kitchen with a table and chairs for only two, and a small stove burning heat in the late afternoon.

There are pictures hanging from the walls, telling a story. A story years old - one where the childish fingertips left traces against the once painted white walls, even thousands and thousands cooked dishes whose condensation and smell crawled inside the small hanok that rose up to just about two meters. If it was a few centimeters smaller, Taehyung wouldn't be able to walk without his head bowed down.

''What's your name dear?'' The old woman asks, carefully stirring the vegetables.

And Taehyung finally speaks, ''This is my friend, Erika.''

''It's nice to meet you Mrs. Kim.'' I bow.

''Erika? Just like the flower?'' She doesn't look at me but nods when I smile softly. ''Ah please, call me halmeoni.''

When she adds the glass noodles on the burning pan, it all sizzles, causing a few rumbles from Taehyung's stomach.

''Sit down, sit down'', she motions with the wooden spoon, and Taehyung obeys, so I do the same.

With my knees touching, I'm seated on a small chair. My hands are resting on my thighs but not for long when I keep wiping the sweat off of my palms.

''Do you like japchae, Erika? It's Taehyung's favorite. He's loved it ever since he learned how to use his clumsy feet.''

Taehyung becomes restless. Avoiding glances, smiling with his head looking down and cheeks being flushed with a shade of pink that those same flowers outside were carrying.

Then I realize, he is embarrassed.

''Ma!'' His voice becomes like that of a child, and I've never seen him act this vulnerable. ''Let's not talk about that.''

The stove simmers down and it becomes quieter. Mrs. Kim's shoes clack against the wooden floor, causing small earthquakes with each step she takes. I look around once more, the house must be really old.

''Shush'', says the old woman, servings us two bowls full of noodles and a blanket of sesame seeds sprinkled on top. ''Eat your food young man, don't be rude to your friend.''

My phone suddenly rings, but I turn it off immediately, acknowledging that I might be the rude one here.

Taehyung slurps the noodles and looks up at me. ''Eat. It's good.''

But I couldn't.

For some reason, all I could do was stare at the person sitting right in front of me. A man with a colorful personality. It was weird seeing Taehyung like this - without the mansion rising up to heavens, without the expensive champagnes and his wine cellar, without the dozens of lonely paintings sleeping on the walls and without the masks he had been putting on. Without all of that, he seemed just like any other boy.

He seemed...normal.

And I couldn't look away.

Seconds later, Mrs. Kim drags a small tabouret and sits with us at the table, though she isn't eating. She looks at Taehyung, then at me and then back at Taehyung until she finally speaks, putting us out of our misery. ''Will you stay over tonight, Erika? You can sleep in Taehyung's bedroom.''

Eyes wide, Taehyung's slender fingers squeeze the chopsticks and with a mouth full of food, he struggles to speak, one cheek fuller than the other. ''Ma!''

''Aish,'' the woman spats, ''I'm only conversing with your friend over here, since you haven't got the guts to do so.''

Then I join in, ''That's fine Mrs. Kim, I'm only here to visit.''

''Ah, but Taehyungie has a lovely bedroom! Lots of posters and magazines under his bed.''

And he chokes, ''Woman'', a gulp, ''あなたは死にたいですか? (Do you want to die?)''

''そのような話をしないで、若者。(Don't talk to me like that, young man.)'' With her voice echoing, Taehyung's entire being becomes so small. ''Don't forget who wiped your ass and fed you when that father of yours wasn't here to tuck you in.''

With a blank expression plastered on his face, the only thing Taehyung does is chew his food slowly. Then glares at me just in time when I'm trying to hold in my cackles.

''Posters and magazines, you say?''

And I can feel his gaze wiping off my existence from the face of the earth entirely.

''Oh, many," says Mrs. Kim. ''Taehyungie loves to read, and paint too. Just like his grandfather used to do.''

''Really?'' Once engaging in the conversation, I find myself slurping the noodles as well.

"Mhm." The woman's voice becomes softer, her brown eyes full of kindness and I know that she is talking about the love of her life. ''Taehyungie's grandfather was a lovely man, a soldier back in the days."

A pause.

"We met in Japan during the war."

Then she stops speaking and looks down at the dusty floor, at the wooden spoon in her hands or at her shoes - as if looking for something that'd keep her gaze away from ours, because she knew that once she looks into our eyes, the only thing we'd feel is pity. And that, she won't allow.

''Horrible, horrible times. But even in those darkest of days, we fell in love. And soon, when all was over, I moved with him to Geochang, Korea, and stayed here until Taehyung's father was born. His father, my son, is the reason my hair is gray now."

Then there was a laugh, a bitter one. "He never came home before 6 in the morning and I remember sitting on the old sofa, waiting for him to come back.''

I'm chewing so loudly that I almost don't even notice that Taehyung isn't eating anymore. A blank expression ate his smile away, and he just sits there, making me think that the time has stopped.

Though the hands of the clock hanging on the wall are still moving.

Time hasn't stopped at all.

But something was wrong.

''I remember him saying that he had work to do. He never told me what this work was or why he was doing it, no matter how many times I've sat at the same spot, counting down the minutes left until the doors slammed open again. Then one day, he came back...And he was different, still the same, but something was different. A smile was on his face and he told me that he came back from Daegu, that he'd met someone that day and-''

Suddenly Taehyung jumps up and pushes the chair back, throwing off the center of gravity and causing the house to shake but nothing falls down. His chopsticks fall instead when he leaves the table, the sharp movement cutting the heavy air in half like strong words being said when a person isn't in their right mind.

''Taehyung?'' I call out with a lump stuck in my throat.

No reply.

Only a door slamming shut from behind.

A/N

uh-oh, why did mr. gucci react this way, what do you think? and what are your thoughts on this so far? be ready for secrets to be revealed.

hanok (한옥, 韓屋) is a traditional korean house. their shapes differ by region. in the cold northern regions of Korea, hanoks are built in a square with a courtyard in the middle in order to retain heat better. in the south, hanoks are more open and L-shaped. halmeoni (할머니) means grandmother.

also, taehyung in real life is fluent in japanese, and since in this story he was raised by his granny (who's japanese) he knows how to speak it. speaking of taehyung, happy birthday to our precious taehyungie ♡ and everyone else celebrating.

i love you, always, & make sure to take care of yourselves!