#i hope i can move abroad sometime soon

[animehime94]

Dear mutuals,

I haven't been able to use Tumblr lately because it got blocked in my country.

I don't know how to feel about this change. I mean I already knew the people in charge would be doing whatever they want. But this is just too much.

Tumblr was and still is my favorite social media platform. I get to interact with my fandoms and see so many fanarts. I get to be myself too.

No, seriously. I get to be myself here because I don't have to use my real name. Unlike other platforms, I feel no pressure to be perfect, or keep my "public image". I really love being here. I hope I can keep being here. And I love all of you 🥰🥰🥰

[rottiens]

i must know ur stepcest thoughts 🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

US AT MIDNIGHT | GETŌ SUGURU

✮ wc. . 2.0K

✮ tags. . stepcest, spit kink, smoker fem!reader, alcohol consumption, praise kink (good girl), canon au. 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune.

✮ about. . the right thing to do would be to forget about the past and start over. pretend nothing happened. but sometimes the right thing to do is not always what we should do.

✮ notes. . i wanted to explore this trope from a more 'forbidden romance' point of view rather than lust as such, yk? Suguru really cares about the reader. I hope you can still enjoy it and suguru will probably be ooc here so I apologize for that ;sighs;

"You look ravishing tonight." You needn't turn around to know who it was, though it would be hypocritical to deny that you weren't expecting him.

Suguru followed you stealthily like shadow into the backyard, guided by your hips and the sound of your heels against the wooden floor that gave him clues as to what your final destination was. The trees under the breeze of the spring entrance flutter carrying silence.

You steel yourself to turn around, the courage you have never had but now cling to as if your life depended on it. You squeeze the cigarette you carry between your fingers and finally order your feet to move. You almost curse the moon for showing him to you so mysterious, the absence of light allows you to admire his blurred features and the darkness dances on his face preventing you from seeing him clearly. You sigh his manly perfume and smile wistfully at him, dropping your head to the side.

"Suguru." You hadn't said that name in a long time, hadn't thought of it after going to college abroad and abandoning your promising future as a sorceress, so having it in your mouth drags up memories that hit your belly like whips. He returns the same smile, clutching the cup in his hand. In the distance, the sound of music comes muffled through the walls that separate you. "Thank you… you look…" older, handsome, taller "You look good," you conclude with a sigh. "You grew your hair long." You point out the obvious, with a finger gesturing to the black hair that falls loosely down his back.

Apparently something you said makes him grin more, not to the point where he shows his teeth but you do notice the way his shoulders relax at your presence just a little.

"You don't have to hide from me."

"I wasn't," you reply without blinking, trying to keep the plastic smile.

You barely forget about the cigarette burning in your hand, so before the ashes land on your gleaming heels you bring it to your mouth taking a deep puff in search of, ironically, clearing your lungs. After pleading with your mother that you didn't want to attend her and Suguru's father's annual wedding anniversary celebration and she asked that you do so, you created a master plan for tonight that included everything from your hairstyle to your outfit, continuing with the dialogues you would hold and the posture you would assume the entire night… only your perfect plan didn't include your stepbrother cornering you alone like the wolf he is.

You extend the cigarette to him but he shakes his head taking the cup to his mouth instead, ironic, you learned from his vice. You wonder what else has changed in him these past few years.

Amber drops stick to his lower lip as he finishes his drink, which he soon swirls around with his tongue. You watch, unable to pretend you have no interest in him, perplexed that he still has the same effect on you.

"I should get back," you say in a voice that is raspy from the smoke, preparing to walk by his side unwilling to drag out the encounter any longer; however his long fingers tangle around your arm and that spark runs through your entire body.

"We didn't do anything wrong."

"I don't want to talk about it." You avoid looking at him at all costs, focusing on the silhouettes of your parents and their guests dancing in the living room.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," he suddenly confesses and you hate him for doing this to you now, in the middle of such an important celebration for them.

"I shouldn't have come." You try to struggle against his grip to which he relents, only to seconds later grab you by both arms and slam you against one of the columns, in the background, a cicada screams as the guests rampage with a hubbub and your lungs empty from the impact.

Suguru just looks at you as his fingers burn marks into your skin and you wish you knew what was going through his mind… probably the same as in yours.

"We were kids," you try to explain as a last resort. "It was just a game." Suguru moves closer to your neck and you allow him to trespass your personal space, his natural scent clouding your senses and making you cling to his white shirt in search of stability.

Silently and with your breaths ragged and ruffled, Suguru blindly pulls your hand to his hips and you put up no resistance, then lower.

"This is what you do to me," he murmurs hoarsely. Your fingers feel his length through his pants, much fatter than you remember. Unexpected memories shame you, that should never have happened, you tried to run away from home in search of a fresh start but the images always came back to you tormenting you with the raw whip of morality. "Do you need me as much as I need you? Is that pussy wet for me?"

"Suguru…" you call out to him with weak knees, imploring him not to take you to a place you can't escape from.

"That's right. Say my name, your big brother is right here, let him take a look."

You whimper, more for lack of words or response than because you have any other choice, Suguru uses your weakness against you and that makes you feel frail, under his big fingers he destroys the mask that for so long it has taken you to form. His fingers are cradling your pussy above the fabric of your dress, tracing the labia up and down as he parts them at the same time with light pressure in search of your hidden clit, as soon as he finds it suguru starts a swirl taking his time to listen to your body and which way he caresses you is the one that makes you feel the most pleasure.

He helps you remove the uncomfortable belt around his hips so you can find his hard cock, unlike him, you search through the boxers to touch him directly and you both gasp at the contact.

"We cannot…" you try to elaborate, however Suguru shuts you up with a sloppy kiss, makes you swallow the words as he pushes his tongue inside you, touching your upper lip in a mess of saliva and tangling with your tongue as he pauses to suck on it a little.

"Open." As soon as he commands you, still touching you, your lips stained from the smeared lipstick open for him letting his saliva drip onto your tongue. You swallow and he smiles, it's exactly like before. "I'm going to spit again, but this time keep it in your mouth, okay?" your eyes widen a little at the demand and you don't know if he notices, though you do it anyway without protest. Your tongue rolls out and you give him a glimpse of your mouth, suguru purses his lips again and drops a big gob but this time you do as he says and instead of swallowing, you keep it there. "Good girl," he praises you right away. "You look so pretty with your mouth full so you won't tell me things I don't want to hear."

At that moment, he climbs up the skin of your thigh and tosses the already soaked panties aside to play directly with your needy clit. Each touch is heartbreaking, it's like it's the first time anyone has touched you in years, his caresses are tiny bursts of pleasure that climb up your belly and squeeze you from the inside— with one hand on your neck and one on your crotch suguru keeps jerking you off while he talks in your ear and tells you how much he's missed you, how much he needed to see you again, by this point your body was about to explode, your legs tremble and your nipples harden with each dirty word that makes his throat vibrate.

Suguru raises his hand to the level of your face and shows you his open palm as if waiting for something.

"Spit." Seeing the confusion on your face you make him smile, which has an effect on you that you hate. Without further hesitation you spit, and he takes his now wet and sticky hand to his cock to lubricate it and with the same soaked hand he gives two round strokes to your pussy, giving you to understand that he is preparing you for what is coming next.

He abruptly turns you over so that your back is to him while he grabs your hips and lifts your ass, you stand on tiptoe while hiding your face in your hands. Common sense begs you because you still have time, logic tells you that someone could be watching you from afar and that your relationship would be more than an embarrassment to the family, yet it's hard to think about the moment when the thick head brushes your swollen lips in a gentle back and forth.

"Is this okay?" he asks. "Can I fuck you without a condom?"

You can't think. You want to say you're not sure, but a hasty, "Yes," rolls out of you before you can stop it.

You can sense his hesitation in the way his grip weakens around your hips and by how he continues to outline your pussy lips up and down without deciding to thrust even though you are blindly seeking him with your hips.

You call his name, looking back to stare at his body bathed in the dim light; the dark strands obscure his gaze as Suguru just focuses on the image of you open waiting to be taken for him. Even in the absence of light you admire his jaw clench.

"I don't want our first time to be like this," suguru breathes, still not raising his head to look at you. Your brow furrows slightly in both frustration and confusion, after all he's been the one to blame for you getting to this point— your lips parted to complain at the same time his voice fills the place again. "Squeeze your thighs together." He commands back authoritatively without waiting for a no.

You do as he asks. With your eyes straight ahead, you focus on the column in front of you to which you cling for support and amidst the murmur of applause Suguru slides his hard cock in between your thighs after he has spit again.

The sound of his moans are drowned out by the din at close range, his hips thrusting and rubbing desperately against you in search of release. Your whole body feels hot in different places and for different reasons, shame and pleasure are those that stand out the most burning your cheeks and an oppressive sensation cracking your ribs.

The amount of saliva makes the movement fluid, just like a dance in which you help him by pushing your hips back to meet him in that back and forth in perfect unison. This leads him to cum soon, he lifts your dress to spill the ropes of cum on your ass ruining the harmony of your skin, then, still with fingers dirty from his own orgasm suguru pulls you to cling to his chest and from behind drags a hand down your belly to take hold of your pussy once more.

He forces you to look into the room as two of his fingers deep into you and makes you moan, taking care to steal a hard orgasm from you as his kisses make themselves present in your throat and his cum slides very slowly along your ass. His chest heaves with pride knowing that you will spend the rest of the party with his mark on you, as everyone laughs and celebrates a special occasion; his cum would be spilling down the length of your thighs.

He rejoices knowing you had come back to him.

"Meet me in my room at midnight," he whispers in your ear after depositing a tender kiss on your lobe.

[aphroditeslover11]

for oppie maybe he meets a foreign student when he is studying abroad like in the beginning of the movie in germany? he is so stressed then he could have used a friend… loved your exam piece so i thought maybe you would like an idea like this ❤️

An Unexpected Friend

Hi there, I hope that this is something along the lines of what you meant. My first ask, so I’m using that as an excuse if it’s crap! I ended up writing a little more of myself into this than I meant to. 🤣

I should probably warn that Oppie ends up having a bit of an existential crisis incase that bothers anybody. But yeah, please read and enjoy, any feedback or further requests are much appreciated.

Robert Oppenheimer was thoroughly fed up. He was twenty two and in the middle of a real dip in his life. The last year that he had spent studying at Cambridge had been nothing short of a disaster. He was starting to doubt himself intellectually for the first time, he felt as if he was losing his identity. Though he would be hard pushed to admit it, he also felt as if he had nowhere to turn, his friends all seemed to be meeting women, some making the more permanent choice of settling down into early domesticity, leaving him feeling completely alone in the world. This was where his decision to pack his bags and move to Germany had come from, to try and reinvigorate his love of physics if nothing else.

He was on an overnight train, headed to Gottingen for the place at the university that he was taking up. He was dosing in and out of sleep, waking up for the third time since he had finished the sandwiches that he had bought before he left the station. The lights of the carriage were slightly dingy, yet he reached for the book that he had been reading earlier that evening, a newly published physics paper, hoping to get a bit more reading done before he arrived.

After about half an hour of reading he was fully awake again, concentration completely engaged, only to be pulled out of it by a knock on the door of his compartment. He opened the door to find a girl, about the same age as him, carrying a suitcase and with a reticent look on her face.

“I’m really sorry to bother you Sir, I got onto the train at the last station but I can’t find any seats, all the other compartments are dark and I didn’t want to disturb people if they were sleeping.” Robert ran a hand through his hair in contemplation, then moving away from the door to let you in.

“It’s alright, I’m on my own. We can share it for the night. I’ll warn you that I’m planning on staying awake for the rest of the journey though, so the light will be on.”

“That’s not an issue, I’m probably going to read anyway. I’ve always been a dreadful sleeper. Thankyou, Mr?”

“Oppenheimer, Robert. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

~

You had both started the evening with your noses buried in books, trying to be quiet and not disturb each other. Robert had uncharacteristically broken the silence when he realised what you were reading a volume of Plato. You started a discussion between you about how philosophy and physics could be compatible with one another, learning that you were both heading to the same university to study your respective subjects. When you got off the train you agreed to meet up soon.

Over the first few weeks of your time at the university you saw each other a lot. Neither of you were hugely social, of course making some friends through your courses, but you certainly considered Oppie as your closest. You met up most evenings, sometimes going out to eat at a local café, but most often just reading and working on assignments or papers in silence. It was always nice to know that you could talk if you wanted to though.

It was on one of these evenings that Robert started an unexpected conversation.

“Y/N, I was wondering if I could ask you about something. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but it’s just been bugging me recently.”

“I’m all ears Robert, go ahead.”

“Do you ever just walk into a room and feel like everybody in it hates you. That you open your mouth and everybody just thinks ‘what the hell is this idiot going to start on about now’.” He was saying everything very matter of factly, though it was clear that opening up to someone wasn’t easy on him. You paused briefly, trying to decide how to respond.

“People that you know, or just everyone?”

“Everyone. Although it’s easier when it’s just new people, you can just put up a facade for a bit, you know. Convince them that you aren’t as bad as you really are.”

“I guess I kind of know what you mean, I ended up with a bit of a complex because my mum used to ask me not to talk about my interests. She used to say she didn’t want to know because she didn’t understand, I don’t think she could handle the fact that I knew more than her. It kind of gets better though when you make some decent friends… the complex I mean. What’s so bad about you anyway Robert?”

“All I’ve ever done is academics, I don’t have a personality outside of that. I hate making friends and nobody ever understands me. I went to Cambridge and got stuck doing lab work, I was hopeless, just couldn’t do it.” His fragile facade was starting to drop now, you could hear it in his voice. “I couldn’t even manage the one thing that I’m meant to be good at. Without my science who the hell even am I?” He was trying to hide it, but you had noticed the few small tears that had fallen from his cyanic eyes.

You moved from your seat to be beside him on the sofa where he was sitting himself, wrapping a gentle arm around his shoulders. Given how reserved he usually was, the picture of perfect manners and politeness, it caught you off guard when he wrapped both of his arms around you, burying his head in your shoulder. It was rare to see him so vulnerable, it was the same of any man really, but it was strangely gratifying that he trusted you enough to be around him like this.

“You are J Robert Oppenheimer. You are you Robert, and that is enough to ask of anyone.” You spoke firmly. “I can’t speak for the rest of the world, but I certainly don’t hate you. In fact, I think you’re the best friend that I’ve had in a very long time, and I’ve had my share of identity crises as well.” He pulled back from your hold then, sitting up straight.

“Is this feeling ever going to go away though? I can’t bear it, I just can’t.”

“It will, it will take time but you will get past this. Both of us are learning who we really are, and when we do we’ll be all the better for it.

“Would you mind if I hold you, just for a bit? I just need to know that somebody’s here, with me.”

“Of course I don’t mind. In truth, it’s been a very long time since I’ve been able to feel this comfortable with someone.” With that, he put a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you securely into his side.

“Robert, I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

[totheseok]

home is where the heart is

Jung Sungchan x reader

trope?: friends to strangers, strangers to lovers, childhood friends, college au?

requested: yes?? but I'm turning it into a series??

req by: @melokoyy

warnings: swearing?

stage one: damn those theatre kids

prev ☆ masterlist ☆ next

word count: 1.3k

Jung Sungchan and L/N Y/N grew up together but this didn't mean they were best friends. Nor did it mean they hated each other. Simply put the two of them were friends.

Sungchan and Y/N's parents were good friends but the two never found themselves hanging out with each other besides the times their families were together. They went to the same school but hung out with different people, they were in the same class but sat at different ends. Outside their homes, they were mere acquaintances.

When they were six Sungchan's family moved into the house across the street from Y/N's. It was then that they started hanging out more. Walking to and from school together, doing homework together, and sometimes going over to each other's house to play games when bored. The pair's newly formed friendship, however, was sadly cut short when Y/N's mother got a job offer abroad and the family decided to move. When you're six years old and are told that you're moving to a new country it's exciting, but then you realize you have to leave your friends behind and suddenly your whole world gets crushed. And that's exactly what happened to Y/N. The idea of exploring new places was amazing but what fun would it be if she didn't have Sungchan to do it with her.

Yet the move was inevitable, they were six what could they possibly do to stop it.

As the day of the flight approached the kids spent more and more time with each other and the night before Y/N's flight Sungchan handed her his favorite puppy plushie Haru and told her to remember him with it. In return, Y/N handed the young boy her beloved Eeyore (Winnie the Pooh) stuffed toy.

And with that, they bade farewell to each other and Sungchan walked home crying as Y/N stood outside her door hugging Haru tightly to her chest.

Considering Y/N was only seven when she moved to Canada with her parents, the adjustment wasn't too difficult. She knew English because she was sent to an international school in Korea, and being only seven, fitting in with other kids wasn't too hard.

She soon became friends with a girl named Somi and a guy named keeho and they became pretty much inseparable due to their korean backgrounds (a/n: reader doesn't have to be korean she was just raised there).

Surprisingly, the friendship lasted, even through middle school and high school and soon enough, senior year of high school rolled around.

"Girl, did you apply?"

Keeho has a habit of whispering to y/n during classes, especially if she's zoned out. She should be used to it by now but being broken out of your thoughts is always a bit surprising.

"Fuck! KEEHO! What the hell man?" Y/n replied not bothering to look at him.

"Did you apply to SNU, dumbass?" he quipped at her, pinching her arm to fully bring her back to reality.

"Oh. Oh, wait, oh shit I forgot." she started switching tabs on her laptop, making sure the teacher didn't notice and quickly opened Seoul National University's website. "When's the deadline to apply for the September semesters?"

"In two hours..." Keeho sighed."I swear to god y/n you're hopeless. HOW are you maintaining your GPA!?!?!"

Now y/n's GPA isn't a 4.0, but it's still good at a 3.79, keeping her at an A. Along with that, she actively takes part in extracurriculars and has won a few competitions for her society. So she was definitely HOPING to get accepted by SNU, preferably on scholarship, but hey, she'll take what she can get.

"When does this class end?" she asks him opening the application form and started filling it out, let's hope Mrs. Anderson doesn't notice she's not taking notes.

"Well considering its been about an hour and fifteen minutes, that means there's an hour and forty-five minutes left. Seriously WHY are our classes THIS long?!?!"

"Ugh, I get you," the girl mumbles, "So I either do this right now and risk getting caught by Mrs. Anderson OR I wait until class ends and try to write an application for my dream uni in fifteen minutes?"

"Basically."

"You know what? I'll take my chances, what's Mrs . Anderson going to do, give me detention for applying to uni in her class?" and she starts typing, looking up at the board every few minutes to make it seem like she's taking notes and not doing something her entire future relies on.

"Wait so you JUST applied?" Somi stops in her tracks and turns to Y/n as they walk out of the campus towards the closest 7/11.

Keeho replies for her, "Yeah, that too during Mrs. Anderson's class."

"Damn I knew you were crazy but Mrs. Anderson's class is just wild."

"Hey, atleast my application went through before the deadline," Y/n finally speaks up "Now we just have to hope all three of us get accepted together."

"Damn right, I still applied to a couple other unis in Seoul, just in case you know?" Somi comments, opening the door to the convenience store.

"Same. I applied to Yonsei, Hanyang, and a couple of others." Keeho agrees, following her.

"Other than SNU I just applied to Yonsei but no where else in Korea, if I get into SNU great, Yonsei's my backup option, the other unis I applied to are in the Middle East and Europe." Y/N adds.

"Hmm, you're just going to leave us to rot in Seoul I can't beleive this, but if you do end up going to the Middle East fuck learning, find a rich prince and marry him."

"KEEHO!" both the girls exclaim.

"ANYWAYS, let's hope all three of us end up in SNU, I mean how could SNU possibly turn down a trio as amazing as us." he continues.

"Yeah, let's do this together." Y/N adds while she waits for her hotdog.

Summer after high school came sooner than expected, and suddenly life slowed down, highschool was over and the little group of friends were on there way to be adults.

The only thing they were worried about now?

University acceptance emails.

The three hung out almost every day and every two hours they'd refresh their emails hoping to see an email from SNU.

"What if they accidentally sent our letters to the wrong emails? Is that possible?"

"Keeho I highly doubt a university as established as Seoul National University would send acceptances to the wrong emails..." Somi responds.

"Yeah and even if they did I doubt it'd happen to all three of us, plus apparently acceptances don't come until like June or something idk." Y/N adds to Somi's point.

"Damn, I just want the stress to end man, I don't like not knowing." the boy mumbles.

"I get you," Somi agrees, "Plus its already the end of May so anytime now I guess."

"Oh my god Somi I think you just manifested something, I got an email !" Y/N frantically opens the mail app on her phone and sure enough there was an email from Seoul National University. "Quick both of you check yours."

As she waits, she looks around her bed to find a worn-out puppy plushie, Haru. Once she finds him, she holds onto him, hugging him with her left arm while her right holds her phone.

"I got one too!"

"Same! oh my god oh my god I'm going to shit my pants!"

"OK on three we open them together and remember no matter what happens, we support each other through it."

"Alright one, two, two and a half, two and and three-"

"Y/N FOR FUCKS SAKE, THREE"

And que silence.

The first one to break the silence was Somi, "I GOT IN!"

"I DID TOO!" Keeho jumps in his seat.

The two friends realise the third hasn't spoken yet, and so they turn to her, only to see her sitting with a grim face, tears gathering in her eyes. Grip on her plushie tighter than ever as she hugs it to her chest.

She looks up, looks at Keeho, then at Somi, one singular tear slipping out of her eye.

"Oh Y/N-"

"SNU is overrated any -"

Just as her friends are about to comfort her, a smile overtakes her face.

"I GOT IN TOO!!!"

Damn those theatre kids.

synopsis: Sungchan and y/n are family friends but y/n moved abroad and they lost touch, now y/n is back in Korea for uni and it's just so happens sungchan is attending too and now he's helping her readjust and navigate through life in Korea. What could possibly go wrong?

a/n: So originally, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but I'm turning it into a series, first ACTUAL fic!!! I hope you all like it :)))

and special thank you to @ywnzn for helping me with the name for this series ❗️❗️❗️

taglist open: @seungzzzz @wccycc

[palacholic]

Storytime

So...it's time to introduce you to the wicked ways of my weirdness, to show you what it's like to be me, starting from the beginning...

Right now I'm in my first semester at Charles university, Prague. I've been living in the Czech republic for a few months now, I chose to move there right after finishing high school in my home country. I spent years preparing for my life abroad, studying the Czech language, taking care of all the formalities that are necessary to move to a new country, most of it by myself, getting to know the country that I consider my home and I wish to live in for the rest of my life.

Why all this? What made me take such an unexpected choice, leaving behind everything I knew, saying goodbye to my friends and family and to the life I could have had in my home country?

As you could probably guess from my username and the content on my blog, the answer is simple:

Jan Palach

Yes. That Jan Palach. The student who on 16th January 1969 set himself on fire in protest of the apathy and resignation of the Czechoslovak people following the soviet occupation of Czechoslovakia. A guy who's been dead for over half a century.

I first heard about him during a time when I was struggling a lot with my mental health. His story gave me strength and hope, what he did reminded me that there are things worth fighting for, things worth living for. I know this sounds kinda paradoxical given that he died because of what he did but that's the point - he was willing to sacrifice his life because he wanted others to live in a better world. He didn't kill himself because he hated life, on the contrary he loved it.

I found something that gave me joy, something I liked doing - reading and watching everything I could find about him. I spent a lot of time researching him and loved every new detail I found out. I started researching him out of admiration for his act and became more and more intrigued by his personality, his interests, the things he believed in...I look up to him a lot. It's incredible how much this helped me getting better mentally and eventually healing from the worst of my mental issues. I started looking forward to the future again, especially after visiting the Czech Republic for the first time.

I came to Prague to pay my respects to Jan Palach, to visit the places where he lived, to say thank you...and fell in love with the city and Czech culture overall more than I expected. I met amazing people and had some of the best experiences of my life, and soon after I realised that moving to Czechia was the right thing to do. That I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't go through with it, that if I stayed in my home country I would never be as happy as I am now.

Two years later I finally packed my things and went on my way...as soon as I left the airport on my arrival I felt that I'd made the right choice and everything that happened since then only confirmed that feeling. Even the bad things. It's not always easy but it feels right, in a way that's hard to convey by words. I sometimes think about how crazy this all is but I'm so glad it happened. I'm thankful for everything I have now, my friends, my hobbies, my new home. I love it every day more. And I don't care how weird it is that all this started because of a guy who died more than half a century ago. Was it only a coincidence that I watched the news that day when they talked about him? Is there more to it? Who knows? Is it relevant? I don't think so.

I hope he'd be happy to know that he saved me and how much he means to me. If I could, I'd thank him for everything.

I started this blog to share my feelings and my journey as an expat in Czechia. You'll find memes, stories of a foreigner's life in Prague and of course a lot of history-related things. I'm happy to answer all your questions and tell you more. I hope to make new friends and find people with whom I can talk about my interests. I'm glad to be here and I love you all, I'm proud of y'all for being here too <3

this post took me waaayyyy too long to write and maybe I'll edit it again sometime in the future, if you read all of this I'm genuinely impressed, please tell me your thoughts in the comments or send an ask if you want to :)

[nightghoul381]

Nokto 3rd Anniversary Event

A Beast's Dream Realized by Beauty

Premium End

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Prince. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

Licht was always cheerful and always had a smile on his face.

I was the one who stole Licht’s expression.

At that time, it was difficult to be in the court and I couldn’t stay sane--.

I chose to run away as soon as possible so I didn’t have to look at Licht, who had lost his emotions.

--Past—

Sariel: “A short term, study abroad program in Benitoite?”

Nokto: “Yes. As a prince, learning the basics of business is by no means a bad thing.”

Nokto: “Please, Sariel.”

Sariel: “…I understand. I’ll ask His Majesty the King.”

Sariel: “By the way, are you going alone?”

Nokto: “That’s what I mean to do. I don’t need an attendant.”

Sariel: “…”

When I talked about the short term, study abroad idea, I couldn’t look Sariel in the eye.

At that point, it was like admitting there was something to regret.

Woman: “Prince Nokto, aren’t you enjoying studying abroad?”

Nokto: “What…?”

It was a question that came up suddenly when I came to Benitoite and got used to life.

The couple, who were young at the time, had agreed to take care of him at the request of His Majesty the King of Rhodolite.

They were always concerned about the young prince.

Nokto: “It’s fun. It’s fun to learn things you don’t know.”

Woman: “I hope so… we have never seen you smile.”

Nokto: “…That’s not…”

Woman: “Yes, it is. And not once have you laughed.”

It was a shock.

Unlike Licht, my expression was still alive.

At least, I thought so.

But that was my imagination.

I panicked and peered into a nearby window.

My face reflected was empty.

Man: “Boys around your age laugh like idiots, play around, and act naughty.”

Nokto: “…”

I still can’t forget the pained faces of the couple.

On the day Licht lost his emotion, it seemed I had lost mine as well.

I don’t know where I left it, or if I could even find it…

However, such an excuse is not allowed.

“That day”, I was protected by Licht.

There’s no way I should lose my emotions while being protected.

Licht should not be burdened anymore… I thought so at least.

Nokto: “…Smile, me.”

I stood in front of my mirror and tried to move my facial muscles.

I didn’t know what kind of face I should make. I force myself to move them as if they were clearing up the sins I had been running away from.

Day in and day out, everyday—I practiced and practiced.

Woman: “Prince Nokto, you’ve been smiling recently.”

Nokto: “Sorry for worrying you. Maybe it’s because I’ve finally gotten used to life.”

Thus began the liar’s smile.

--End Past—

Benitoite’s annual antique market was bustling with people, left and right.

It’s good that Emma suggested I help out at the stall that the elderly couple is opening.

Silvio: “What are you doing here?”

(…and here comes trouble.)

I had been preparing myself for the possibility that he might come, but…

When faced with the continent’s richest man, who exemplifies the dreams and aspirations of merchants, one can’t help but sigh.

Nokto: “Can’t you see?”

Silvio: “I’m askin’ because I don’t understand. It’s like you’re a different person.”

Nokto: “A different person?”

Silvio: “I’ve been watchin’ for a while, but you don’t always look like you’re lying when ya laugh.”

Silvio: “It’s the first time I’ve seen you play like a kid, ya fox bastard, and it gives me goosebumps.”

Nokto: “Huh? I’m not playing around that much.”

Silvio: “Should I hold up a mirror for ya? You’re a lot more cheerful that you think you are.”

(…I didn’t know. I guess even I can get carried away sometimes.)

(No, there are a lot of times. Ever since I met Emma I’ve been thrown off kilter.)

Not only Silvio, but even Emma, who is supposed to be on my side, is smiling.

Apparently, I really am in high spirits.

I used to only be able to smile to ‘lie’, but now I’m having fun.

(It’s my first time doing business like this that had nothing to do with public affairs, but I guess I unexpectedly like it.)

(“I want to be a merchant” The beginning of my dream wasn’t a good one.)

--Flashback—

Licht: “Hey, Nokto. Do you think mama will be kinder after you leave the castle?”

Nokto: “I think so, because it’s all the castle’s fault.”

Nokto: “Mama looks sad and we’ve been told lots of things…”

Nokto: “If there’s no more things to torment mama, surely…”

Licht: “…That’s true. Well then, I’ll find out where I want to go from mama.”

Licht: “I want to run away to a place mama likes anyway.”

Nokto: “Then I’ll think of a way to earn money.”

Nokto: “I need money to escape… should I become a merchant?”

Licht: “You’re smart Nokto, so you can definitely become a merchant.”

Nokto: “I guess so… I’ll try. If I make a lot of money, I’ll buy sweets for you, Licht.”

Licht: “Really? It’s a promise!”

--End Flashback—

(I’m sure Licht remembers, too.)

(…It’s an ordinary dream, but for us it was heavy.)

The earnest wish that clings to the dream of becoming a ‘merchant’ is not something that can be said out loud.

(At first, it was still good, but one day ‘ becoming a merchant’ meant ‘escaping from Licht.’)

(I’m a coward.)

(…I’m a shameful coward.)

(I thought so, but I didn’t realize it was ‘fun’…)

Emma: “…The current Nokto doesn’t want to run away, does he?”

The antique market closed with great success and I walked with Emma on the beach dyed in the twilight.

In the end, the antiques prepared by the old couple were sold, and a strange sense of accomplishment was in my heart.

Perhaps it was because of such a feeling that I became light-hearted.

When I told her the other reason for my dream of being a ‘merchant’,  Emma hugged me without saying a word.

Emma: “The Nokto I know forgot to take a break because he’s such a hard-working person.”

Emma: “So I don’t think you need to beat yourself up about it now.”

Nokto: “Yeah, I guess so.”

(Even if you blame me, the past won’t change.)

It’s true that he didn’t run away. You don’t need to blame me.

(Thanks to Emma, I learned that ‘wanting to be a merchant’ wasn’t just about ‘wanting to run away.’)

Maybe it’s because I’ve lived my life with my expressions and emotions covered with lies.

Perhaps even the pure interest I had as a child had disappeared.

But over time, I met my true self that Emma had found.

That is terribly heartbreaking.

(The fact that I wasn’t studying abroad just because I wanted to run away is, in a sense, a salvation for me.)

(…Licht is the one who should be saved.)

Nokto: “…”

(The reason I had Emma meet the old Benitoite couple was because I knew I couldn’t hide my cowardice from them.)

(I brought you here because it was just the right opportunity, but actually…)

(…maybe I really just wanted someone to forgive me for my past weakness.)

(No, the more I think about it, the more I hate myself…)

Nokto: “Hey, don’t let me think anything right now.”

Emma: “…okay.”

When I asked her for it, Emma cupped my cheeks in her hands as if she knew everything.

Our lips pressed together feels so good, and once I taste it, I want it endlessly.

I was so absorbed in it, I forgot to breathe.

The more I try, the more the pain fades.

(I’m better now because of Emma.)

(I don’t want to run away, and I want to atone for my sins in my own way.)

(That’s why I’m often overworked.)

There are times when I can’t see it myself that Emma takes care of me and suggests vacations.

Emma: “Are you okay…?”

At the end of the long kiss, Emma’s eyes met mine.

Nokto: “I’m sorry for that.”

(Maybe it wasn’t a pleasant kiss.)

When I stroked her hair with the intention of apologizing, Emma suddenly narrowed her eyes.

Emma: “Nokto, you’re making a face that tells me it’s still not enough.”

Nokto: “Oh, you understand?”

With a deceptive smile, a thin finger caressed my lips.

Emma: “…Okay. Kiss me until you’re satisfied.”

Nokto:” I don’t know if someone will come, is that okay?” 3103

(You said no in the city for that reason.)

Emma: “There’s no one right now. If it’s just a kiss…”

(You’re so sweet, you probably know how I’m feeling right now.)

(…)

(…just for today.)

(Tomorrow, I’ll do it properly again.)

Relying on Emma’s kindness, she takes my breath away again.

I bit her lips, entwined her tongue, and tasted every inch of her mouth…but I didn’t feel like stopping today.

[melonminnie]

Ah you must I love your fics, so could you make a reincarnated reader in the villain is a puppet? I would like everyone to be platonic yanderes, perhaps the reader has a strange power that turns the people he often lives with into yanderes [In his past life the reader was unhappy, he found his life boring and insipid, so he decided to die, That's how an unknown god gave her that power]

That's why she was reincarnated as Raffaello's younger sister. Reaching adulthood, but even being somewhat unaware of his power.

Raffaello was too affected by his yanderismo that when he became a duke he prohibited his sister from going abroad, because in his eyes the reader is an angel and must protect her. Then by the work of fate, meet our imperial twins.

So the reader doesn't remember almost anything about her life other than the lack of affection she had, so she really is a bit lazy with her brother's possessive behavior. When Kayena recognized the reader, she was surprised and heard voices whispering to her, putting ideas into her, that's the power of the reader. As for rezef, he is relatively already an overprotective and jealous yandere because the reader took his escapades as a young man and by the work of God he met rezef as a child, giving him his friendship and love, things that rezef clung to.

Forgive me for the long text, can you develop the idea better, I'm missing some things because I don't remember much of the chapters I read hehehe. I know it has nothing to do with it, but if you're going to receive my request, I should give you something. Here is a picture I painted of Aki hayakawa for my art class. Happy new year!! 😄🥰🥰🥰

LITTLE TWIN STARS

YAN!Raffaello x Young! sister! Reader x YAN! Imperial twins (platonic sorta)

Warning!: Being trapped inside, Mention’s of leg breaking, Mentions of dying

DESCRIPTION <3: Meeting the imperial twins even though your not allowed to go outside because your brother said so

AUTHOR NOTE!: YOIR DRAWING IS SO COOL! I don’t know if you wanted a make or female reader but you mentioned younger sister so I HOPE YOU LIKE YOUR REQUEST THO <333 I tried my hardest to be as accurate as possible!

For as long as the young girl could remember, Well to be exact she didn’t remember anything, She remembers wishing to die and doing that, Not because of family, friend,Or bullying problems, She just decided she no longer wanted to be alive.

it’s not like she expected to reincarnated into a non existent character!,But nonetheless you were happy, Being the male leads younger sister was just a plus in your eyes!, Living there so cluelessly eating sleeping and buying everything to your heart’s desires while your older brother watched.

Truthfully you never spoke to him sure you ate lunch or dinner with him but you wouldn’t exchange any words, Sometimes he was just maybe a little creepy when he didn’t eat but just watched you eat.

At first he liked the expressions you made, how your eyes would light up when you liked the food, or how you’d try to starting a conversation with him when you didn’t, He knew you never in a million years would want to even greet him, Yet he’d simply turn a blind eye to it.

Those little moments meant more to him then he thought they would, He started getting obsessed, He’d start assigning more guards to you whenever you’d leave the mansion, He’d make his assistant tell him your every moment.

Maybe at some point he realized, Your too good of an angel for this world, Hell even if you murdered an entire person, He wouldn’t care he’d defend you with his whole heart, Your his little baby sister after all why wouldn’t you want him too?.

At that point it hit him, No one was allowed to see you, He’d get the title of duke he knew he would, When he did you would never ever ever leave him, Nor would you leave the mansion or the country, he’ll break your legs if you even protested about it!.

And so Raphael was soon the duke of kedrey, His first move was to call you to his office, This was a surprise when you were asked by one of the servants to go to his office (or room I don’t know).

“Your forbidden from traveling abroad from this day on ward” Was the first thing you heard him say, “Umm okay” was the only thing she said and it sounded so hesitant.

He was surprised slightly, But was somehow happy you didn’t protest, It meant you never had the intention of even wanting to travel aboard, That made him smile a little. “You may leave if you want” He replied happily.

“Hmm” now the only reason the girl didn’t say anything, Was because first, She could careless it’s not like she had another house to suddenly turn too, Secondly, She wasn’t planning on traveling he clearly only said aboard so she can clearly go to the capital.

Maybe it’s been months or weeks sense you last went out, You were probably losing your mind!.

But for some reason Raphael made an exception to let you out just for today, So you decided to go to the capital, There you met princess cayena, Who surprisingly knew who you were.

After a while of talking she started acting up, More so she started hearing these tiny voices that would appear every now and then it would start of as, One, then two, then it escalated to eight at a time to the point she felt like she was losing her mind, So she got up and left.

She didn’t know it was you of course you didn’t know you were the reason to it too, After feeling better she thought about sending you a letter apologizing to you, And maybe inviting you for tea!,Wouldn’t that be nice?.

You accidentally met rezef when the princess was kidnapped, you took it as a chance and ran away, It was purely out of coincidence, Of course he knew who you were. You helped him as a kid, receiving your love and affection, it was a chance given to him, to finally take you from your brother, He can use this to take you, to warn your brother to stay away from his sister or your going to be found dead.

[treasar]

Chapter 5 | Finally |

No way... Is that Jungwon?

It is a peaceful night as chilly winds are present like a wave of the ocean, calm yet fresh. A strand of her hair flies in the air with the help of a gentle breeze while she is zoning out. 

It’s thrice, visiting this field with a high hope of meeting the boys. But, unfortunately, luck is not in her hands. She starts to lose hope. Sometimes, her mind is telling her that what she can do is nothing.

She is forever trapped in this world… 

However, she keeps pushing herself not to give up. At Alteast there is a 1% that she will successfully finish her task and then, go to her home.

 Somehow, she feels like this night view is cheering her, giving her strength. She starts to like this place not as a place where she will meet the boys. But as a place where she can make her mind fresh. 

Tomorrow is the day she is going to move to her not-so-new school. She doesn’t know whether she is going to meet them or not. What she knows is that she has to try her best there more. 

Sure, she is excited about going there but, what if…

What if there are boys….?

Or maybe even Sooha? 

The war will soon break out for sure… 

Between the first vampires and that idiot vampire, Chris…

Then, what will happen to her?

Will she be at the academy? Or… what else? 

The sound of opening the gate snaps her out of her thought. Then, a pair of feet appear in front of her as she is near it. What a relief is that she is hiding behind the benchers so the comer can’t see her. 

She glances at her watch before gazing at that person. It’s almost past 12 p.m. That person sure must be the guard since no one is allowed to go out. 

A huge yet thin coat is hanging on his shoulder but, his hair… is oddly familiar to her. It’s like something inside her mind clicks that function her brain to recognise who that person is.

A wave of surprise and disbelief rushes through her body, rubbing her eyes harshly to make sure that person is him or not. “ No way… “ She whispers, still disbelieving.

She hurriedly shows up not wanting to make the same mistake as she did in her dream. “ Jungwon, is that you? “ She calls out as that person halts his step. 

She can’t even describe what she is feeling as nervousness, relief and something more rushing up. 

Those green eyes glance at her, which are perfectly paired up with his light grey hair, which honestly she thought was white. His tiny ponytail is making his hairstyle better. A strand of his hair fell on his tiny forehead, appearing his look more.

“ Handsome and intelligent “ is not enough to describe him. He is too looking for a common human with his attractive look. Moreover, she’s finally found one of them. 

“ I am sorry. I think you got the wrong person. “ Confused is written all over his face. That’s when it clicks to her that he is not Jungwon “ Oh, sorry. You look like a friend of mine. “ She nervously grins. 

Without getting a reply, he leaves, making the girl stunned. “ Wow, that’s a bit… rude. “ She frowns, watching his figure till it disappears from her sight. 

_

“ I am happy to hear that you are the one who is moving here. “ a woman, who guide her when she first arrives here, says. Alex chooses to stay quiet as she doesn’t know how to respond. 

“ I suppose you don’t need me to show you around, do you? “ The woman stops, and so does the girl as Alex nods in agreement. “ Alright then, I will be going now. Hope you will have a great first day here. “ The woman sweetly smiles at her.

Alex returns the smile. “ Thanks in advance, ma’am. Have a nice day! “ She bows. “ You too, Alex! “ The woman waves before leaving. 

She breathes in heavily as soon as she is in her new room. “ It’s so tiring. “ She pops down on the floor like a zombie. 

It’s currently 12 p.m. She had to continue her study there before moving here. So, no rest time is available for her. What she’s thankful for is that her classmates were bidding her sweetly along with her teachers. She felt like she is moving abroad for further study. 

Now, she can take a short nap or maybe a long one before starting her first day of school here. However, the coziness is helping her as her eyes become heavy. 

She doesn’t remember how long she falls asleep. But, a certain knock wakes her up from her deep sleep. When she glances at the clock, it’s saying sharp three. 

‘ Who can be here at this time? ‘ She groans, trying to ignore it but, the sound becomes louder and louder. So, she has to drag herself before approaching the door with heavy steps. 

“ I am coming! “ She shouts as the knock seems like it won’t stop until she responds. “ How can I help you? “ She peeks through the door with a tiny little bit of messy hair without opening it widely.

“ Oh, Alex. I am sorry if I disturb you. “ It is the woman, who sent her here. “ Hello, ma’am, “ Alex greets while fixing her hair with a paint of red on her cheek, embarrassment. 

“ Actually, I need you to do me a favour. “ The woman says. “ What is it, ma’am? “ She replies right away. “ Could you please show her around the school since she’s just moved here if you don’t mind? “ 

“ Sure, ma’am! “ She says without looking at the newbie. “ But, ma’am, you know… “ She comes closer to the woman. “ I’ve just moved here too. “ 

“ Oh, it’s totally fine. Everyone here knows that you are that girl. “ She whispers back. “ If you say so, I will help her, ma’am. “ She whispers back. 

“ Good! “ The woman commands. “ The girl here is going to be your new roommate and your senior. “ She states. 

“ She is Alex! “ The woman brings the newbie’s attention. “ Hello, it’s nice to meet you. I am Alex! Hope we can be friends. “ She sweetly smiles. 

“ Hello, the name is Sooha. “ That girl’s comment widens the girl’s eyes. ‘ Sooha…? ‘ 

She immediately looks up, changing her 90-degree position. Those familiar pink eyes are already looking at her with a hint of nothingness but, cold and sadness. 

The real Sooha, the princess and the main character of this story is standing in front of her.

The whole tour is so quiet that the sound of non-existing pin-dropping can be heard. Whenever Alex tries to start the chat, Sooha would always answer shortly as if she is not interested in it. 

Awakand and nervousness are the only feelings, that are presented in her. 

The trailing edge of the sun slowly disappears below the western horizon, indicating that the night is going to shine. Not too soon, countless stars and moon fill the dusk sky. 

She didn’t think that Sooha would be totally different from the original story. The mentioned girl is looking around but, not her as if she is a ghost. 

“ Senior, let’s stop our tour here. If you have questions, you can ask me. “ She gives her a small smile. “ Of course, thank you. “ She says shyly for the first time. 

“ Please call me by my name. You know senior sounds a bit… “ She scrubs her head out of nervousness. “ I am sorry if I act rude and cold. It’s just that I am not used to it. “ She lowers her gaze. “ It may sound weird. “ She whispers.

That’s when it clicks her. Sooha is not being treated friendly by others except Chris since she was young. “ It’s totally fine, Sooha. “ A genius smile assures Sooha. 

“Let’s be friends, Alex. “She smiles. 

_   

a/n: hey guysss, it's a short one for today! Hope you guys enjoy it! relogging and like are appreciated! If you guys want to help me choose the title for this story here!

[muninnhuginn]

Season Two Link Click Thoughts

I've put this below a cut because it gets long, but these are just my assorted thoughts on s2 in general. It's going to be waaaay more opinions than my usual speculationy kinda deal and contains spoilers for all of season two.

I hit character limit on my bullet points so I think that's my cue to leave it at that even though I have more thoughts honestly. I didn't even know that was a thing.

Pacing. I think pretty much everyone can agree that the pacing was... dubious. This series could have easily been shorter or had different meaningful content rather than repeated footage reuse for flashing back and overly extended fight scenes (episode 7? I think it was, was particularly egregious about this). I get there's presumably a fanbase for fight scenes and I won't contest that they were really nicely choreographed, but sometimes it felt like you'd take a break from actual events to spend ten minutes on a fight scene that didn't really... further anything else? I do enjoy recontextualisation and I recognise that that does require reusing some aspects of footage rather than entirely reanimating scenes when there's no need to, but at the same time, this is a series that is lowkey set up for binging. Flashing back so frequently when it's a series specifically engineered to make you binge it (hi constant cliffhangers) seems an odd recipe. I almost wonder how much of this was for production reasons, though maybe I'm overreaching here.

Linked to this is the overuse of cliffhangers. Season 1 had some cliffhangers, yeah, but it at least had breaks between arcs and more importantly, didn't repeatedly move the chronology of scenes purely to service an artificial cliffhanger.

Art and animation was mostly very nice. There were two episodes that did suffer art-wise (episodes three and eleven) with various off-model faces, but for the most part it was all pretty solid and I don't have any complaints about the animation. My favourite part of the art is still the almost rainbow outlines you get around objects. It made scenes like the Lu Guang speedboat one look gorgeous with the lights and colour on the water.

Mystery. Okay, so for all my qualms I genuinely think the mystery aspects were almost perfect. There were a couple of places I feel they somewhat 'cheated' but otherwise (the twin with the photo in the hospital doorway looking like tianxi in a close up shot. and then cxs/wj acting possessed in ep 6 but having their eyes appear normal at first and only having them changed the next episode. I'm fine with false negatives on the eyes when the audience isn't yet cued in on a possession, but in this case it looked like they were possessed up until the eyes showed otherwise)? Everything made total sense and tied together by the end. Even going into episode 12 we had a couple of gaps in scenes in Chen Bin and Liu Lan's death that I think it would be incredibly easy to overlook considering we "knew" what happened in them, but the hints were there in both cases that there was more to it and those hints paid off. Even Liu Xiao's identity worked just fine without the hat guy visual. All the hints were there about a younger favoured brother of the Liu family, Li Tianchen's new friend being a rich "Master Liu", him being abroad studying but stated as "soon to return" (which he then did). There are so many threads and they all tied together by the end such that even if I didn't always agree with the delivery, I do think this season is worthy of being called an excellent mystery.

Characters. So, okay, we introduced a whole host of new characters this time which was a choice. This sorta worked sorta didn't. The arcs of Qian Jin and the twins all tied together thematically and episode 9 was pretty explicit drawing the parallels together. However, we had characters like Qiao Ling not getting much new material at all despite a hopeful start with her scene about "wanting to be trusted".

Unfortunate implications (my head automatically goes to TV Tropes with this :V). Mainly surrounding the use of female characters as devices to propel the male characters. LTX is the most obvious instance (I shouldn't have to explain why), but Wang Juan was also treated as though she would be important and then largely shunted off to apply more pressure to XL; Liu Min's mum taking the hysterical role. On their own they may not be too bad, but I guess it's that it's combined with the stuff around Emma from s1 where the big 'twist' in the finale is killing her once there's a hope spot, and also added to how the mother in the Doudou episode is the one who's reverted to a younger age, whilst the dad is exhausted. Just a whole load of stuff that individually on their own don't necessarily mean anything but when put together forms a pattern I'm not super comfortable with? I do get the impression that show is well-meaning in terms of this stuff (QJ and LF especially point that way) but feel like it still fell down in a few places and could have done better with these aspects.

Lu Guang going back to save CXS confirmed. Admittedly I am incredibly biased to this type of plot, but I'm so glad they confirmed it. We haven't been given many specifics around when he went back from/to and I imagine we'll get more next season so I'm holding off judgement on all that for now (the paradox implications have me a bit worried but until we know more about the mechanics I can't judge). That said, I really liked the scene where it was comfirmed (the darkened shot of Lu Guang covered in blood my beloved) and am thinking that Qiao Ling having knowledge of Lu Guang's memories will mean she has to play a bigger role next season. There's no point in giving her that knowledge if it won't go somewhere. Relatedly, it seems like dying does pass on the powers and that's how we got LTX->QL and CXS->LG. It doesn't seem like Qiao Ling fully realises though if she has got Tianxi's powers (and it's been two months), but I suppose it's not exactly something you *would* realise if you didn't know what you were looking for or had previous experience with these powers.

I do genuinely think that this season was a case where the new characters were written around the existing ideas of the story and the themes which means they're interesting to analyse but I didn't feel like moments hit anywhere near as emotionally as season one? I think the parts where season two was able to approach season one's level of emotion were mainly around the twin's backstories. Meanwhile Qian Jin and Xiao Li's whole deal is interesting in theory but in practice I didn't have much reason to care for Xiao Li. Suffering to make the audience empathise only really "works" if there's more beyond that.

Lu Guang-Li Tianchen parallels make me sad. There are plenty of similarities in how they treat CXS and LTX respectively but I keep thinking of how their final choice in s2 is to either commit to preserving the past (Lu Guang with CXS) or to let go of the past (Li Tianchen with LTX and his mum). And how typically, clinging to the past is seen as a bad thing and letting it go a good thing. But in this case it's almost the opposite? I'm not saying it's healthy for Lu Guang to deny Cheng Xiaoshi's death, but I do think the story will eventually align behind him on this choice. And I think that Li Tianchen leaving the past behind in this case is more about trying to forget his trauma and in the process just digging himself deeper, deliberately choosing to forget the very person he fought to protect.

General s3 spec (keeping it brief). Li Tianchen confirmed that he obtained Liu Min's phone for Liu Xiao and it has info on it Liu Xiao needs but we still don't know what's on it beyond Qian Jin's comment about "family secrets". In terms of Liu Xiao himself, he didn't get much airtime but what he did have he made count. He mentioned about wanting to make "uncertainties into certainties" and the idea that there are "parallel lines". This pretty much sets him up against Lu Guang in terms of aim and seems to suggest our understanding of time travel mechanics is about to get a serious update next season. Also, the new "paranormal section of the police force" seems incredibly pointed. I don't really want it to get a huge focus honestly but with the way the scope has widened each season I don't think I'll get my wish.

[klausinamarink]

for @blubblesandink who requested the prompts “two shots of vodka” and “After the night, when I wake up, I’ll see what tomorrow brings” with Nancy! I hope you enjoy this and I apologize for the belated fic!

-

She always goes to a different bar, even she’s still in the city or the state. A few times, she’s at a different country, on the road of her current scoop which gives her an excuse to order exquisite drinks before her usual. Keeps her buzzed and loose enough before she starts the tradition with that somber cloud that never skips a moment precipitating above her head.

But this year, Nancy is in Halifax. The temperatures here are more frigid given the Canadian side of the Atlantic. But she finds herself embracing it more easily than she had in past twenty-eight years next to Lake Michigan, excluding her time abroad. Maybe there’s some truth about living in Canada is easier than in America. 

Unless Nova Scotia has its own story of alternate dimensions and bloodthirsty psychic monsters. 

She’s not retired yet, but Nancy sees herself moving a little down to a farmhouse at the countryside, maybe with three sheepdogs and a horse for company. She smiles at the thought and files that to the cabinet in her brain specifically saved for the future. 

When Nancy takes a seat at the counter, the bartender comes up and asks for her order. 

Nancy finds herself hesitating. Debates between her usual and trying something new that would help her ease and settle further into the setting. The bar is cozy, more of a cafe for catching Z’s and seagazing than a commonplace for alcohol and sorrows. There’s even fluffy couches aligned below the windows. 

In the end, Nancy stays faithful. 

“Two shots of vodka.”

The bartender nods. She looks five years younger than Nancy, one side of hair longer the other and dyed lavender. She’s quick too. Nancy swears by the time ‘vodka’ leaves her lips, the bartender has already slid the drinks over.

“Waiting for someone or is it personal?” She asks with a lopsided grin.

Nancy smiles back, “Personal matter.”

She makes a sympathetic click with her tongue. “Well, if you need anything, another drink or food, let me know.”

Nancy watches her leave to the other end before casting her gaze back to the vodka shots.

In the beginning, the first several years, she had made mental monologues to herself. A mix of self-consciousness of saying anything aloud in public and a silly superstitition that somehow Barb can still hear her. 

That’s how it started. In honor of Barb. Every year, on the same day. September the fourth. When Nancy Wheeler and Barbara Holland found each other in kindergarten and stayed together since. 

Nancy forgets easily - underestimates - about how much grief can not only fill up your body more than water and how it never gets drained out, no matter how many times she rings it out of the cloth. It always refills.

But that doesn’t mean that the grief reaches the same level as it usually does. Every year, Nancy feels its capacity lower and lower until she’s trending through it by her ankles. Like that part of a beach’s shore where the waves lap around the legs but never soak you or get strong enough to pull you in.

Sometimes, Nancy looks back at those years and wonders how she managed to survive without risking alcohol poisoning like she’d nearly done at Tina’s Halloween party in ‘84.

Nowadays though, her tradition had shifted from honoring Barb’s memory to the Party’s.

They aren't gone gone. But their once fire-forged connection had waned over the decades, especially as the kids had grown older and moved to live on their own. Nancy still talks to Mike, though their last conversation was two months ago when she told him about her move.

Some days, she regrets leaving them so soon. Wishes of another life where she put her own ambitions behind and stayed in touch with the Party. 

But those wishes are still regrets. Even the occasional wandering thought of where Steve or Jonathan or Max or anybody was right now will never give her a clear answer.

Nancy taps a finger on her chosen glass. Her recently manicured nail makes tiny clink-clink noises against the edge, creating tiny ripples across the content’s surface. 

She sighs. Rolls her neck with a crick - god, she’s getting old - and finally lifts up her shot in salute to nobody and everyone in particular. 

“To you, to us.” 

She gulps down the vodka. It flows warmly down her throat and settles in her chest like a dragon breathing fire in reverse.

As she places the glass back down, Lavender Hair appears in front of her. Nancy doesn’t jump or flinch.

“What about the other one?” She asks.

Nancy shoulders on her coat and tote bag as she sits up, “I just leave it for a while. Dunno what happens after I leave.” She pauses before chuckling, “Maybe one of the ghosts drinks it.”

Before the bartender can comment, Nancy slaps a ten dollar bill in front of her and leaves the bar.

Outside, she takes a moment to inhale the fresh afternoon air and turn her face towards the sun. It’s barely five in the afternoon but she has an article to finish by tomorrow.

[ubike-official]

my dear friend ive been thinking of you talking about having self hatred blinders on with your trip and it really resonated with me like yeah thats exactly what im dealing with rn and trying to pry them off myself but still struggling with it even as im aware of it, i was wondering if u had any tips for moving forward and out of that kind of self hate and trauma fueled horse blinders mindset (aside from yknow. general healing and unpacking it all). no rush or pressure for replying i was just wanting to pick ur brain a little about it ily i hope ur day is going well

Hi Rey, my friend Rey! Thanks so much for being patient with my reply. I wanted to really sit down and give you a good proper answer here so I reviewed the Ancient Texts (my old journal entries). One thing that really helps for me dealing with the trauma self hatred blinders is the feeling that I owe it to myself to be confident. I think of sad little child me and how I know she wanted to be confident and accepted. And when I think of how others made me feel this hatred and that it's not a natural state. That my natural state was happy even if it was short lived, that i deserve to return back to that state.

Now thats easy said but very much not easily done. I still have moments where I realize after the fact i was isolating and falling into bad habits. Like when I was abroad i remember once the guy sitting next to me said hi to me outside of the school gate and was inviting me in to come talk with everyone and i literally ran away and tripped down a flight of stairs where no one saw me, cried, and dragged my bloody knee to a pharmacy to buy a bandaid and no one batted an eye. At that moment i felt like what just happened was proof that I was awful and no one cared about me. But in hindsight that wasn't true. Those people were inviting me in and i ran away. And i wasnt a bad person for that! i just had a lot of trauma and needed some grace and time to process it!

And it took me around 3 months to muster up the courage to try again. And I mustered it a couple of ways. One of my very bad traits that I'm working on is judging others. I remember there was this guy that took the same bus as me, that had such an obnoxious Australian accent and was so Caucasian and had the audacity to just talk to anyone. And I haaaated him. But like, one day it clicked while i was being a hater, this dude legit did not know or care who i was. he had friends and did so many things i wish i could've done. I stopped seeing him but soon a similar guy appeared that was of the same type of person, and one day I talked to him. And it didnt amount to much. But it helped me get over that block. Because if i was gonna spend all that time disliking him, i wanted him to at least know who the hell i was. at least once. Not for external validation, for me. And I feel like sometimes having that awkward, scary conversation can really help.

In terms of processing and healing I really love physical journaling. It doesn't need to be fancy or coherent, but writing it down, especially before bed helps me really process whatever things are weighing me down. I like to get it out right before bed so i can go to bed with a clear mind and not have the 3am lying in bed spiral. And def try to gauge what things you can unpack and resolve with a session otherwise it can leave you worse off.

One thing that helps for me that may not work for you or others given your health situation. I think a casual low intensity amount of drinking with friends or at a bar in a safe space helps. For me being just a little tipsy makes me put my guard down and connect with others and gain confidence from small, low commitment, one off interactions with strangers. This can also be replicated Non alcoholic/substancy in like a cafe, library patio, or community setting. If you're able to find somewhere accessible to you and be a regular and say hi, get some low level interaction. When I came back home from Taiwan I made it a habit to try and say hi to people when i went for walks and just get comfortable doing that. Or I'd make small talk with checkout clerks at the grocery store and juat add a comment in. Like sometimes I'd just rehearse saying something about the weather or the week or idk, anything. And just whip it out of your back pocket. Sometimes it'll land, sometimes it wont.

Hope this is at least somewhat helpful! you've got this, we're in this together^^

[rikeijo]

Today's translation #269

Febri vol. 40. Kubo Mitsurou's interview

Part 14.

--- So it means that, after all, [Yuri!!!] boosted your self confidence.

"It's not that simple (laugh). If you become a person too sensible, then you can lose your mangaka ego and no longer be able to create interesting mangas. Before I start to draw manga, I sometimes think how much of a mad dog I need to become [to be able to draw]. I really gained a lot [of new experiences etc.], thanks to the fact that I could take part in animation production, but if I'm able to use what I've gained for the sake of my mangas or not, is a completely separate problem and at present, I don't have an answer to that question.

--- I see. So in the end, a lot of people would love to see a continuation of Yuri!!! on ICE, but at present, do you have any plans or wishes?

"Even between myself and Yamamoto Director, we haven't decided yet [what we want to do] specifically. Plus, it's not possible for just the two of us to make an anime alone, and I don't know yet if schedules of our main staff members will be able to accommodate [a continuation]. However, until I have something that I can show to others and say: "This is an idea I have for the continuation, so please work with me" we cannot move forward, so first of all, as one of the captains of this ship, I want to work on creating an interesting idea for the continuation. Actually, with Yamamoto Director we are going on a trip abroad together soon. The purpose is absolutely not location hunting, but I want to collect some external pieces [that can be used for making of Yuri!!!'s continuation]. I feel that the characters want to quickly start moving again, and that they are waiting for me somewhere. So this is a trip to find them. I hope I'll be able to find them.

[Notes: This is the last part of this interview, so another one finished!

Mitsurou talks here about her future as a mangaka, and well... it's so sad (and weird) that neither she nor Sayo were involved in any project after 2018 or even 2017, I think? It seems that, in the end, Mitsurou changed careers in a sense and is now a TV personality, so at least we now that she's alive and well... Sayo on the other hand... 😢]

[memryse]

kind of a personal post but i just need to yell into the void for a bit in a way where maybe there will be somebody with advice

i moved abroad about seven months ago to study, i’m seven thousand miles away from literally everybody that i know irl. i’ve been able to make a couple of friends who i hang out with sometimes but not properly clicked with anyone so. it generally feels very lonely here i don’t really have any kind of support system

basically as soon as i arrived my body decided it was going to develop pretty awful ibs. i did not have ibs when i left the uk other than feeling sick after i drank orange juice. ever since arriving here however i’ve had chronic pain, or rather chronic “feeling like my lower abdomen is burning from the inside”, about as often as i’ve not had it. it happened less over the winter but i think that might be because it’s partially connected to how hot it gets here

and theres just kind of. nothing i can do about it because you can’t fix chronic pain. i’ve been living mostly off convenience store food because i don’t have a kitchen and the small food places and night markets that most people usually eat at here instantly have horrible effects on me. and within the convenience store food i mostly alternate the same few options because i already have a pretty limited food palate from the probable autism (fun fact gastrointestinal issues are more common in autistic people) and even if i didn’t have that going on i’m so hesitant to try anything new here because i haven’t figured out what the main triggers are for making me sick. and not even that helps anyway i am still in pain.

there isn’t any point in paying to go to a doctor because i know full well what the issue is and there’s no treatment for the chronic pain so all i can do is wait it out. but it sucks because i keep having to miss classes, i don’t go as many places as i want to because either i’m physically ill or generally just too demotivated from being in pain to organise anything myself and also not having much of a social circle so i just feel like i’m wasting my time here. i’ve done some really cool stuff but it’s hard not to be jealous of the people who are having the time of their lives doing stuff every day when i can’t even go to university without being in pain a lot of the time and my own views are one thing but whenever other people ask me what i’ve been up to and it’s not much because i’ve been sick or just don’t have enough friends to be doing stuff as constantly as they are and they’re obviously being judgemental about it. That kinda sucks.

and i know bad sleep and not eating regular meals make it worse but when i don’t want to go to sleep because of the pain and i don’t want to eat because of the pain it’s just the world’s worst cycle and now i’m up at 5am being sad

i only have two months left until i go home but also it feels so lame to be so looking forward to leaving but god i’ve had so many misfortunes here. i really hope this goes away when i go back home and can eat my normal diet again and just like. Exist without pain :(

i don’t usually make personal posts i like to vent elsewhere but sometimes you really just need to write a long rant somewhere that maybe someone in a similar situation will see yknow

[quenthel]

oughughug ed stuff (also some tmi stuff)

i have been recovering from my ED pretty well... learning how to enjoy meals and not overeat all the time im even a little bit distressed/ reward myself with other stuff than food so my relationship to meals have changed... i also got much more into cooking than i was bc of dunmeshi too and i enjoyed the philosophy of cooking and eating meals from that manga so much legit helped me a ton to think about it more and really internalize it. Like reading that manga really made me reconsider what i think of food and that made it easier for me not to fall back into old bad mindsets as much (but i do sometimes still its a work in progress)

And like I lost a lot of weight bc of this (i just eat a little less move a little more and give more time and thought to my meals) like its been still a struggle for me esp in the beginning and by this point im losing weight very slowly like it took me 8 months to lose 10kg while the first 8 i lost in like 2 months. And while this food journey was overall good for my mental my body got much much weaker psychically esp my endurance because its a large change. Im not sad about it because being overweight (and still being overweight lol) was making me miserable (and the societal hatred for fat people was part of that ofc, but also mostly it was caused by some beliefs i have about my own self worth its a big issue) but I feel like no weight loss post or story or anything talks about this. I also started to exercise and so far some of it has been harder but some of it has been easier. And i still need to work a lot on appreciating my own body and truly inhabiting it in a sense like being at peace with it and not fighting it and connect to my own body as its part of myself and not just something im in. Like its part of me. Funnily enough the times i really felt that connection were the times I was spending a lot of time together with other people like irl (when i had a huge friend group and we drank a lot together or when i was w my ex lol).

Like at this point i weigh less than i ever remember weighing (even in my teens lol) and i still have a long way to go. But i would not have done it without being supported by my friends and parents like i dont think anybody can come out of toxic mindsets without opening those doors and asking for help or knowing that they HAVE to do it for other people (like my dad recovering from alcoholism because he was scared he will die before seeing my brother and me grow up). Also its funny that around the time i started really thinking abt my own body and my health and really asking for help (in therapy too) to make me truly healthy, not working on it in isolation like i did after beating disco elysium was around the time i started thinking abt being trans too. Like realizing that my body is me made me think more about my own gender too. I’m also thinking a lot abt starting HRT but that would be impossible for me bc of my country (idk if i can even do that abroad but maybe...) but I don’t want to yet since I want to establish my body mind connection first and THEN see if i still feel like I should.

Anyway im around halfway done with my weightloss plans and its been 9 months. I originally wanted to recover fully and reach that weight and develop habits to exercise regularly in 2 years but since im moving soon i might not be able to focus on this as much or maybe its going to get easier... who knows. I still feel like I’m a work in progress tho both bc of therapy and bc of this but also because i really feel like im JUST starting to become more of an adult because im thinking about these things (and its making me more sad that i cant be financially independent yet but im trying to be patient). But it feels like im currently at a point of my life when im changing for the better overall and while I struggle a lot its not as bad as it was before so thats pretty hopeful...

[itsthebethblogever]

A Bird on Her Journey to Self

If you want to know what I have been up to since graduating high school, here is your answer: I've been trying to figure out what I want to do in life, and having lots ups and downs in the process. Like everyone else. This was written with the intention to share my experiences in the hopes that others can relate/learn/laugh/benefit somehow. Ten years of life in one post. Thanks so much for reading, sending you love, enjoy! ♡

Chapter 1: The Bird Leaves the Nest

The laid back, coastal town of Ventura, California offers many wonderful benefits as a home town: perfect weather, spacious beaches, a county fair, farmers markets, and it's close enough to Los Angeles for a day trip but far away enough to not have big city problems like traffic or pollution. However, its small town vibes can sometimes feel like a suburban bubble of safety, so my curious spirit did not begin to fully emerge until I moved to San Francisco for college at the age of 18. From day one, I hit the ground running. As soon as my dad finished helping me unpack, I ran off with some new friends to the Haight Ashbury district with one goal in mind: get my nose pierced (something I was not allowed to do while living at home). That simple yet important milestone was a physical marker of my breaking away from the herd. Beginning to chart my own path. After a fiery freshman year full of firsts, I left SF to study abroad in Växjö, Sweden, full of confidence and a thirst for even more adventure.

I was 20. I had just begun to see the world. Inspired by living with international students who could all speak at least 2 languages, I set a goal to learn Spanish. The question was: How? I began researching ways to live in a Spanish speaking country and landed on the Peace Corps website. To qualify for a Spanish speaking country, I would need a minimum of 2 semesters of college level Spanish. Well, that would work out just fine! I still had another three more semesters at SF State before I could graduate, so when registration came around, I signed myself up for Spanish. Lovely! My post-college plan became: move to a Spanish speaking country and learn the language.

In my second semester of living in a Scandinavian story tale is when a sweet character by the name of David made his debut. We met during a student trip to Finnish Lapland, when one of our three buses broke down. Instead of having the seat next to me for myself for the long journey north, I had to give it up to make room for the other bus mates. Now, sitting next to me, was a tall, talkative Spaniard. So much for my desire to sleep. We introduced ourselves and he saw I was listening to Bon Iver - of course, this was my sleep playlist - and asked me if I had seen them in concert. Well, turns out we both had, and despite not being a chatty mood, my interest was sparked. We continued connecting and I quickly realized that the more time I spent with him, the more time I wanted to just keep spending more time with him. He charmed me with his music taste, social spirit, but most of all: his loving heart. The only problem was that he was from Terrassa, a city near Barcelona, Spain, which is quite far away from California.

But... it was a Spanish speaking country.

Meaning... that if I moved to Barcelona to be close to David instead of joining the Peace Corps, I would still be accomplishing my post-grad goals. It wasn’t just to pursue a relationship.

So, we went for it.

After a tortuous goodbye in Sweden (and then again in Denmark, as he missed his flight home due to a train strike and ended up staying the night with me and my family who had come to visit, lol), we did not know when we would see each other next. However, we made the decision to stay together. David and I maintained a long-distance relationship - San Francisco to Barcelona - during the year and a half it took me to finish my degree. We saw each other only twice during that span of time. Yeah, ouch. It was extremely hard to be apart for so long, but we were determined to find a way to be together.

As soon as I graduated, I wasted no time. January 2016, two weeks after receiving my degree, I hopped on a flight across the pond and moved into my new au pair family’s apartment in the Vila Olímpica neighborhood of Barcelona. My freshly earned degree in Child and Adolescent Development meant I was passionate about working with kids, so the role was right up my alley. At 22 years old, my new life as a part time mom and part time Spanish language student began. I would get my three trilingual children ready for school with some help from their parents, drop them off, and cycle over to the Escola Oficial d’Idiomes. Classes were four times a week with daily homework, my au pair parents spoke to me exclusively in Spanish, and on the weekends half of my friends spoke to me in Spanish as well.

After three trimesters at EOI over the course of a year and a healthy level of immersion, I passed an official exam and gained the Intermediate Spanish certification. I had done it - I had learned Spanish!

Well, mainly. It took me about another year to really start to feel like I could express my personality in Spanish.

Once I completed my au pair year, I moved in with David and two of his childhood friends (by then, also my close friends) in the Gràcia neighborhood of the city when I was 23. For about six months, I supported myself with a variety of English teaching gigs I had accumulated through connections made at my au pair kids’ schools as well as through other English teaching friends in the city.

Life was a thrill. I still could not believe I was finally living in the same country with David, much less the same room, I was proud that I was able to make enough money just through teaching private classes, I had the social and night life beyond my wildest dreams, and I was doing it all in a city overflowing with art and culture. I was thriving.

However, I could no longer extend my student visa, so I needed to find something else that would allow me to continue living legally in Spain.

So, I found something.

Via the recommendation of friends, I applied, interviewed, and was accepted as a language assistant through the Meddeas program. In the summer of 2017, I went home to California, visited family and friends, and got my new student visa processings done.

August 2017 initiated a new school year and a new chapter in my journey: teaching English to Spanish primary and secondary students while studying an online TEFL course at the Universitat Internacional de Catalunya.

In hindsight, this is where my journey began to stray from my center.

Teaching English had never been a professional dream of mine. It was something I could do, and I absolutely found joy in it; however, the fact that I was thrown into a job with just one real day of training and all of a sudden expected to lesson plan for 11 different classes caused me immense stress in the beginning. Over time it got easier, but there was always a part of me that knew if I could choose, I would be doing something different.

But, I did it.

Why?

Because it allowed me to continue living in Barcelona, a place that now felt like home. It allowed me to continue learning Spanish, which sparked so much fire and fascination in me. It allowed me to continue the flourishing relationships with my sweet partner and the community of friends and family I cherished so deeply.

So, I kept doing it.

After two years of working and studying through Meddeas, I had maxed out the amount of time I could be in the program. The question returned: How could I continue to legally live in Spain?

The answer: Domestic Partnership.

We lawyered up.

David and I were able to apply under the condition that we had been registered as living in the same household for over a year. Some hundreds and thousands of Euros later, I was granted 5 years of residency in Spain that included the right to work. Hallelujah. The end of long days trekking across the province to different official buildings, waiting decades for my little number to appear on a screen, indicating it was finally my turn even though my appointment time had long passed, and praying that the person who attended me would give me their stamp and signature that meant I could advance to the next round of the Red Tape Tango.

Even Jesus could not be saved from the messy misery that is the bureaucratic processes in Spain.

So, it would seem like having my residency settled would open the doors for me to explore more satisfying occupations, buuut it was not that easy.

I was in a foreign country. The primary language of instruction in public schools was Catalan. Even though I worked so hard to learn Spanish, I would still need to learn another language if I wanted to apply to any public school position.

Then, there was the issue of educational qualifications. Europe in general is quite strict with demanding you have the right papers for the right job, and even more so in Catalonia. In the Catalan province, you must have a masters degree to work with high schoolers, the age group that I really did love teaching English. However, getting a masters for a job that still did not ignite every inch of my soul was not something I was ready to sign up for. Plus, it was possible my US bachelor’s degree may not even qualify, and there was no way I was going to do another bachelor’s degree just for that.

At that moment, my two post grad goals had been accomplished: to live in a Spanish speaking country and learn Spanish, which felt great, but I did not have a plan for after that. I began to feel lost.

At the same time as I was going through a professional life crisis, my personal life situation was also undergoing a difficult transition. It was the summer of 2019. David and I were looking to move out of our shared apartment into our own place for the first time.

From the outside, everything seemed glittery and exciting. We had found a beautiful apartment in Gràcia mere footsteps away from our friends, I got my residency, and my unemployed status was not a huge financial stress thanks to David working in tech.

However, my live-in support system, aka my roommates, had been taken away. Moving in with my partner meant it was just us two. When there was any conflict, it no longer dissipated when one of our roomies came home. Our fights were affecting me more, being unemployed sucked, and felt like I had nobody to reach out to since everyone was working or vacationing. Many days, the summer sun was shining bright outside, but inside I felt darkness. For the first time in my life, I fell into a depression. These deep, ugly emotions inside me were new and I did not know how to deal with them. Instead of opening up about how I felt, I tried to keep my emotions hidden in the hopes that I could bounce back on my own without causing others to see this unhappy side of the usually bubbly, carefree Beth.

In the month of July, I found a gig as a camp counselor at an English language summer camp. The hours were long, it was physically and emotionally demanding, and the compensation was minimal. Working at a summer camp did have some fun perks, but overall it felt like I was resorting to a job that was great when I was 15, but not so much when I was 25. It did not feel like progress, so it did not help my mental health.

Once that finished, I began teaching English online to kids in China in the mornings through a US based company called VIP Kid. In the evenings, I got a part-time job teaching English to kids and adults at a language academy in the city.

More English teaching.

Still, not really my passion.

But, I did it.

Why?

I could not find any better options. I knew I did not want to teach English for the rest of my life, but the other jobs I was interested in, like in the special education/psychology field, I could not pursue due to language or bureaucratic barriers. I decided to accept my current job situation, knowing that it was temporary, and continue to look for other positions in the meantime.

But it was not easy. On top of this, my work schedule was now opposite to David’s. His 9-5 job meant that when he came home, I was at my second job. Limited time together further heightened my feelings of aloneness and caused stress for us both. We hardly saw each other during the week, and when we did, we were not at our best selves. This continued for some time, until finally, I couldn’t do it anymore. I told David I wanted to break up in March 2020, shortly after my 26th birthday. Yet, it did not end then. It surprised David to know I was that unhappy, as I had been hiding most of my dark emotions in order to convince myself and others that I was okay. We decided we would start having more honest communication and work on our relationship, as we both hoped it could be saved.

Then, the timing of what happened next still makes me chuckle. The Universe heard us asking for more time together, and gave us…

Covid 19.

Yep, Barcelona’s lockdown happened literally days after we almost broke up.

Actually, it couldn’t have come at a better time.

We finally had time to be able to talk, connect, and make the best out of being confined 24/7 together. 

Since the language academy closed, it was easy to convert my online teaching gig to be my primary job, as my Chinese students were all at home too. I taught classes for about four hours a day and spent the rest… however I could. While David continued working, I would usually go up to our building’s rooftop. There, I began to rediscover some of my creative passions I had forgotten about. I bought a drawing pad, wrote poetry, and did lots of journaling.

After a long year locked down with plenty of time to reflect, I came to the difficult conclusion that it was time to end our 6 year relationship. Almost exactly a year later, I turned 27 in February 2021, and made the move.

Something I want to pause and touch on here are my thoughts on ending relationships. Later, when sharing the news to my friends and family, it became apparent that some people feel the need to see ugliness before a breakup. I got a lot of reactions like "What, really? But you seemed so happy!" Yes, we were. But that is not a good enough reason to stay with someone. Personally, I feel like it shows how much I cared about David to never let us get to a point where we were outwardly unhappy. I recognized that my feelings had changed, and rather than repress them to the point where I might start to take it out on him, I made the responsible choice to end things amicably. Movies and pop culture dramatize breakups and show things like throwing their partner's belongings out the window, saying nasty things while screaming at each other, cheating out of spite, and the list goes on. It is sad that we don't have examples of two people who sit down together, have a meaningful conversation, and wish each other the best. Communication is an art that gets easier with practice. We should have as many role models and teachers as possible to help guide us towards the most loving way of relating.

Conscious communication practices are on the uprise, so if learning these essential life skills sounds interesting to you, feel free to contact me and I can help connect you to resources like Instagram accounts to follow, courses to take, etc.

And, unpause.

It was Lunar New Year and from the moment I woke up, I felt like electricity was surging through my body, my heart beat accelerated. It was my body telling me: now or never. I met with my best friend Pat who I made privy to my resolution, and together we developed a plan.

A day later, I sat down with David and had the Talk. I did my best to explain my decision in the most caring way, so for that, I came prepared with a notebook in case the words escaped me in the moment. I knew these were going to be the scenes that would replay in our minds and I wanted to foster the best possible conversations. It absolutely broke my heart but as I spoke my truth, my body felt lighter. We agreed that there would be no contact, to allow both of us to heal. As I did the "hurting", I would not be the one to initiate contact. If the day comes that David would like to speak to me, he could reach out. We did get together a second time a few days later to have another conversation where questions were asked and answered. At the end, we said a more official goodbye that ended in one of the world's saddest hugs. I let him know that I hope we can one day be friends, and I am still hopeful for that. It has been almost two years and we have not exchanged a word. I celebrate how well we have honored the boundaries we set and wish him the absolute best.

Six beautiful years of support, adventure, silliness, passion, growth, and love came to an end. Well, the love will always remain, just in a different container.

Before diving into all the logistics that come after a breakup, Pat invited me to stay the weekend with her family in her hometown. We went on a hike to the top of the Burriac Castle, where I really cried for the first time after the break up. Feeling safe and nurtured in her family's hands, I was able to journal my heart out, have an attentive ear to help me try to figure out what to do next, order pizza, and cry some more. I am forever grateful for all the help and love Pat gave me during my time of need. She is a true loyal Leo protector queen and I love and miss her dearly.

Then, it was back to reality.

I moved all my stuff out of our shared apartment and was temporarily crashing at a friend’s place while she was out of town. I hadn’t really thought about what came next, but it was obvious I needed a new place to live.

I went to see a room that seemed to check all the boxes: good lighting and internet for my online classes, in the same neighborhood so I’d still have all my friends and shops I was loyal to around me, but it was then when I realized - how can I start a new chapter of my life in the same city with the same job and the same limitations?

I cannot.

So, I didn’t.

I decided it was time to move back home.

In the span of two weeks, I packed up my five years of life into three boxes, two backpacks, one suitcase, and one duffel bag. The process of donating, gifting, and purging my material belongings was therapeutic. The process of saying goodbye to my community of friends that had become my family was heartbreaking.

Is heartbreaking.

But I had to do it.

Like a phoenix, I had to set fire to everything familiar so I could be reborn from the ashes. Just like that, I said adéu, t'estimo to the five year Barcelona chapter of my life.

Chapter 2: The Bird Returns to the Nest

On the flight to California, I realized I was not moving back home. Barcelona was my home. It had been four years since I had stepped foot on the West Coast, and I had no idea what I was going to do (as per usual).

March 1st, 2021. My first full day in Ventura, California in years. It was more clear than ever that I was basically a foreign person in my hometown, and I did not feel like I fit in. Immediately, I threw myself into researching any and all opportunities to leave the US. I applied to teach English in Korea and was rejected - maybe because of my tattoos? Oh well, it wasn’t meant to be. Next, I applied for an English Teaching position in Costa Rica through the Peace Corps, thinking I could fulfill that post-graduation idea I had so many years ago. I got an interview and then after was politely explained that all of the programs are on pause due to Miss Rona and they would let me know once they reopened. Tampoco ain’t gonna do it. After that, I began throwing my resume at any and all English teaching positions at international schools in the Middle East, Southeast Asia, you name it… but nothing stuck.

Soon, I came to terms with that my intention to touch down in Ventura just to jet off again was not realistic. Covid meant that many borders were closed and programs on pause. So, when a recruiter contacted me on Linkedin for a job as a Support Counselor with Aspiranet, my eyes opened wide with interest at the job description. Behavioral coaching for youth clients in Ventura County? Required a bachelor’s degree in social work/psychology/child development? Increased pay for bilingual candidates? Experience working with high risk youth or special education preferred? The description seemed to be tailored for me. I felt the flame of inspiration ignite, so I applied and was offered the job. I absolutely loved it. Finally, I was back to doing something I was passionate about, and the experience I gained was just as rewarding as the difference I was making in my client’s lives.

Still, my goal to move abroad was clear, and I continued to search for ways to do so. I applied to volunteer as an English Director through a program in Brazil that also practiced eco-friendly living, organic farming, and environment conservation. Even though it was teaching English, I saw this as a beautiful way to also have the opportunity to learn about the other projects going on at the center that fascinated me. After an interview, I was offered the position!

…and got a DUI.

Just when I thought I finally found a plan that felt right, life smacked me in the face and said “think again”. My dreams were shattered.

Here is where I should maybe add a little context and do that adult thing called “take responsibility”. After so many years in a relationship, I was granting myself permission to be wild and free on the weekends. However, as a Scorpio Moon, Jupiter, and Pluto, I crave intensity and become obsessive in my search for taboo adventures. That manifested in a way where I was pushing boundaries of what was safe to their limit, too often. The Universe gave me plenty of opportunities to learn my lesson the easy way, granting me safe passage during many other instances where I drove under the influence. But, I did not listen, and continued on with my reckless behavior until finally I was forced to learn the hard way.

And it sucked.

Not only did I have to spend all the money I had saved on legal fees and fines, but I now had three months of programs I had to attend. My job as a Support Counselor was half spent driving around Ventura County visiting my clients, so I quickly decided that would not be worth the extra insurance and IDD device I’d need to install just to keep the job.

So now what?

Back to the drawing board.

Sigh.

After shedding many tears, therapy sessions, conversations with family and friends, and deep suffering, it hit me: A remote job. It would be the perfect compromise. Instead of quitting my job and using my savings to volunteer and travel, I would get a remote job so I could still travel and have the means to do so. Frantically, I began applying for anything and everything remote. Thanks to a family friend, I was referred and accepted as a Client Coordinator with Cerebral, an online mental health startup company. Well, weeks before beginning training, Cerebral said they no longer needed Client Coordinators (small heart attack) but if I was interested in being a Phone Coordinator, there was still a job for me. Uh, okay, as long as it was remote, I was willing to do pretty much anything. I accepted without much hesitation, though the idea of answering phones instead of emails did not thrill me.

 It would be my first customer service job, and as it was still related to my field of interest, I figured there would be value to seeing the business/insurance/billing side. As soon as I finished training, I packed up my life, again, and purchased a one-way ticket to Mexico City. Since I had visited the city before and already had friends there, it felt like somewhere I could start rebuilding the sense of community that I so yearned while also fulfilling my international desire.

So, I did it.

I will never forget the surge of emotions that overcame me the moment the plane lifted off the runway at LAX. The tears came pouring out before I even realized I was crying. Freedom. Independence. Finally, after a year of living at home, I felt like I was back in life’s driver’s seat.

Chapter 3: The Bird Gets Her Wings Back

At 4:39 am on April 3rd, 2022, two days after moving into an apartment in Juárez, Mexico City, I wrote this:

“I’m having so much fun being alive-

—and living and being here that I don’t want to go to sleep. I don’t even want to close my eyes.

I’m too happy.

There’s too much I want to absorb.

Everything feels electric. I feel literally charged and hypervolted with energy. 

This. Is. My. Fucking PLACE!!!

Note to self: never again accept less than this. Or if you do, know it is temporary and I will always find a way back.”

Now 28 years old, the feeling of power I felt when I left Barcelona had finally returned. I could learn Mexican Spanish. I could walk to the market to buy my groceries. I could even do my court ordered programs, as they were through Zoom. But, most importantly, I could surround myself with people and experiences that would help guide me on my path.

Almost immediately, I became immersed in Mexico City’s spiritual community. After meeting lots of beautiful souls at an event hosted by the Open/Sex-Positive Community, I began running into the same people at other events, in the streets, at friend’s houses, etc. Also, there is a Whatsapp group for pretty much any interest you may have. For my US readers who may be unfamiliar with Whatsapp, the first thing you should know is that we are pretty much the only country who doesn't use it. Adding that to the list of things we do differently. All it is is a messaging app, but the big advantages of using that over iMessage or texting is that it just uses Internet. That being said, there is no polarizing "blue or green" texts to mess up a group chat, making it much more conducive to creating large group chats for as many as 1,000 users.

Just like that, Mexico City felt like home. My job became pretty easy once I got the hang of it, and because I worked smarter and not harder, I was able to enjoy life pretty much exactly how I wanted to. I was living my best life.

One night, while hanging out with my dear friend Bailey at her apartment, she remarked "Didn't you want to do a peyote ceremony? They're posting about one on the Hermanas Hermosas group". Hermanas Hermosas is a global feminine movement that has a Whatsapp group for pretty much every major city around the world and many others for smaller towns but with a spiritual community present. Some get so big that they have to separate into smaller topics as to not spam everyone in Mexico City with apartment ads if they aren't looking for an apartment. In this case, there was a post in the Hermanas Wellness group sharing that sure enough, a peyote ceremony was being led by two women up north in the very desert to which the plant is native.

I sprang into action, as it was Wednesday, and the trip left that very Friday morning. Thanks to the help of my friends, I was able to collect the necessary supplies for a night out in the desert under the stars, called in sick to work that Friday, and I was off to experience the healing powers of hikuri.

It would be wonderful to tell you that I had a powerful, life transformational experience sitting with this medicine; however, that Thursday before the ceremony, I got some awful stomach bug. That day, I could not keep down even water, and I toyed heavily with the idea of cancelling the trip. However, there was no way I was going to miss what I felt was an opportunity that did not come many times, so I came armed with anti-stomach-explodey pills and somehow got myself to the meeting point that Friday morning.

With the group, we went out into the desert with flashlights to find and harvest our cacti medicine. Then, we set up around a fire, prepared the plants, made a delicious tea full of medicinal herbs and more cacti, and prepared the ceremony. My intention was to ask for guidance on what is my purpose. After consuming the recommended dose, about half an hour, I had an euphoric beginning to the trip. Then, I felt called to lay down in my sleeping bag, so I listened to my body and got comfortable. I fell asleep for the majority of the night. Upon waking up, I was initially quite mad - I came all the way out to the desert and I didn't get to talk to the blue stag spirit of peyote? However, I do believe the message was that I needed to give myself time to rest. Living in a city as active and exciting as CDMX meant that most of my free time was spent out of the house, and that was probably not the way I would find clarity. Also, I learned the importance of not having any expectations.

Three months into Mexico City living, Australia announced they were finally re-opening their borders. To my family and I, that meant we could finally get the chance to visit my brother Jesse and sister-in-love Kiki (because “sister-in-law” just doesn’t fit) who had been living on the strictly locked down island since Covid began. This meant I could either keep paying rent while I was away in order to keep my apartment, or… an idea sprouted.

Instead of coming back to Mexico City, I could move out of my apartment, and start to travel Mexico when I got back. The city was feeling comfortable, which was lovely, but also a sign that it’s time to move on. I had developed a support network that gave me the confidence I needed to spread my wings.

It was decided. When I returned to Mexico from Australia in August, I flew back to CDMX for a short visit, then began my solo exploration of the country.

Chapter 4: The Bird Migrates Farther South

Now that I had nourished the soil and grown new roots, I was craving expansion towards the sun. The previous months’ themes were reestablishing confidence in myself, completing DUI obligations, and building up my savings again. Here is the part of my journey where I feel like my real growth starts. 

After months of hearing stories and recommendations, I decided I would start my nomadic chapter in the state of Oaxaca. First stop was Puerto Escondido, known as one of the best surf spots in the world and for its hippy party vibes. As I do not surf nor was in a partying mode, I did not fall head over heels for the town. The main areas were mostly filled with other international folk, which was a con for me, as I wanted to leave the bubble of Mexico City to get to know a more authentic side of Mexico.

As soon as I arrived in Puerto, I felt stressed to find friends. Company. Community. I knew a handful of people from CDMX who happened to be there at the same time, connected with some friends of friends, and met people on my own. Despite this, my social life was the area where I felt the most resistance. I was expecting the luck and speed I found people in Mexico City to be the same there. Well, that was not the case. And this frustrated me. Which forced me to take a step back and reflect - why did this cause me frustration? Was I putting too much value on spending time with others instead of just enjoying life?

…Ope.

Yep.

Out of discomfort came a lesson: I should be acting as my #1 source of company and entertainment. And, quality over quantity. This is a lesson I had begun to learn already when I moved back to Ventura, my mainly friend-less hometown; however, this time, it resonated on an even smaller scale: if I have to choose between doing something with an acquaintance vs. doing it alone, I would much rather be alone.

One night under an almost full moon, I decided I would lead my own healing ceremony instead of going out. I brought my crystals, candles, journal, and rapé upstairs to the rooftop of the house I was staying in, feeling quite proud of my fully equipped witchy starter pack. For those who don’t know, rapé (pronounced RAH-pay) is a type of plant medicine made mainly of tobacco. Usually, a pea sized amount of the powdered plant is blown into your nose through a pipe, either by yourself or another person. The first time I did a rapé ceremony was with my brother in Australia, who administered it to me. This would be just my second time using this plant medicine, and the first time from the nasal spray bottle Jesse and Kiki gifted to me.

Prepared with Kleenex and a trash can in case of possible purging, I shot a spray of medicinal tobacco into each of my nostrils and relaxed back into a hammock. The sensation started by feeling like the lights inside my brain suddenly surged on, and then a tingly wave washed down from the top of my body all the way down to my toes. It was very similar to the feeling of adrenaline, except more powerful and also quite dizzying. The mango I ate earlier was all of a sudden no longer welcome in my stomach.

About five to ten minutes passed where I felt nausea and ecstasy at the same time. The urge to yell and clear my throat arose, and I realized I should be using my Voice more, as what I have to say has value. Then, in this state of clarity and heightened awareness, an idea zapped into my mind - weekend retreats for girls. All around me there are retreats offered for adults focused on various spiritual offerings, but why not kids, too?

Whoa.

That was something to think about.

I took out my journal and began agreeing with all those Instagram posts that talk about how the greatest growth is done in solitude

I resolved to do this more often.

So, I gave gratitude to Puerto Escondido for its technicolor sunsets, dreamy beaches, and the ability to party barefoot or in Crocs and flew back to CDMX. There I met one of my best friends from Barcelona who was in Mexico traveling with his partner.

After keeping it relatively chill in terms of partying in Puerto, I was excited to let go in the city. Unfortunately, on our first night out, my phone and wallet were stolen out of my fanny pack.

Aaaarrggg!

WhHyyy, again, when I felt like I was in such a sweet groove, did I have to be punished?

I guess I had mOrE lEsSoNs iN rEsPoNsIbiLItY tO lEaRn, said with my hands on my hips, my mouth pursed, and my eyes glaring.

As any mature adult would.

Fortunately, my community jumped in right away to support me, with a temporary phone to borrow and money to lend. My mom and I worked relentlessly in attempts to get a new phone sent to me from the US before my flight back to Oaxaca, but Mexican customs said “jaja, na”.

So, off I went, back to the coast of Oaxaca, with my iPhone sequestered in CDMX customs, and a Kodak brand phone as my new travel buddy. My next destination: Mazunte, a town a little over an hour south of Puerto Escondido that boasts the title of being one of Mexico’s 132 “Pueblos Mágicos”. It became obvious very quickly that the town was indeed a magical one.

Chapter 5: The Bird Questions Her Reality

Even though I was in Mazunte for just two weeks, it felt like two decades. Some of the beaches there have black sand, due to underwater volcanic eruptions reaching the shore. This meant the sand was literally magnetic, an effect I felt made time pass slower and in a more relaxed way there than anywhere I’d ever traveled to. The town was the perfect size for me: there was one main road, unpaved, that led to the beach with some side streets, little shops, and cafes with palapa style roofs made of palm leaves. A mix of national and international humans exchanged real eye contact and smiles when passing each other on the street. There was a lot to smile about when living in a hippie paradise surrounded by lush, tropical foliage like coconut and banana trees.

In the midst of all this abundance is where the concept of “The Matrix” really entered my consciousness, thanks to conversations with many of the town's eclectic souls. Bear with me as I take a break from the narration of events to share the journey of how Mazunte really brought the red pill / blue pill metaphor to light.

Take my job as an example: Monday - Friday from 11am to 8pm, with the exception of an hour lunch break, I am expected to be in front of a laptop, aka plugged into The Matrix. The rest of the world basically ceases to exist as I listen to the concerns of people on the other line, pressing buttons that cause prescribers to order prescriptions, pharmacists to dispense medication, therapists to attend patients, banks to deposit refunds, etc etc. In this way, if you look at my job with a wide angle lens, I am altering the reality of people thousands of miles away with the sound of my voice and the touch of my fingers against the keyboard. Why? Multiple reasons. Mainly, because it’s my job, so I have been told that if I do so, I will get paid.

To counter, there is more motivation than just money for me in my role. I believe that we deliver services that really are helping people, and I also know that I spread as much love and light into every interaction possible. So, I hold onto the knowledge that I am planting seeds of positivity in the vulnerable hearts of humans seeking mental health services as another reason, apart from money, that I do my job.

Alright, then, now the big question - would I still do this job if I wasn’t paid?

Honestly, no. Or at least for a lot less hours a day.

Aha.

So, what would I like to do? What skills do I possess that I could offer the world if the Matrix ceased to exist?

Feel free to take a break here and join me in one of my daily existential crises.

In that magical town where nobody seems to know what day or time it is, I toyed heavily with the idea of indefinitely powering off my work laptop and surrendering fully to the fate of the Universe. I could teach English at the school there, or online, or something.

But that’s the problem.

I still didn’t have a goal or idea to motivate me enough to take a risk that big.

So, I didn’t take the red pill.

I did not feel ready.

My Kodak Moment, as I referred to my phone, greatly limited my ability to communicate and stay connected to loved ones. My iPhone was still collecting dust in Mexico City’s customs and I wanted my high tech cyborg brain back. Also, I had more travel plans ahead of me that required money, so a steady paycheck and an ever-increasing savings account would help me reach those dreams with ease. So, I continued with my blue pill work routine, choosing comfort over freedom from the Man.

But, with knowledge comes power. Mazunte changed me. I set a goal: Develop skills that would allow me more freedom in how I make a living. Rather than invest time in a company so it could make money, I wanted to invest time in me so I could support myself on my own. For one, I would need a new laptop, as we all know technology is a useful tool for learning and making connections. With that in mind, I decided it would be the easiest and cheapest to work on attaining technological autonomy back home in California. With Thanksgiving on the horizon, I decided that would be a perfect time to go home and be surrounded by sweet, familial love as well as take advantage of the benefits of capitalism.

With some tangible goals set in place, the storm in my mind began to settle down. A compass and a map helps greatly in navigating the ever changing winds of life. However, the journey ahead still lacked clarity. I knew what tools I would search for while at my next port; however, there was still the unanswered question my whole crew was waiting on: Where are we going next?

Chapter 6: The Bird Continues Her Search

My course veered north towards the mountains, with a big chunk of my heart left behind in Mazunte. For the next two weeks, I explored the high elevation towns of San Jose del Pacifico and San Mateo del Rio Hondo. To me, San Jose’s nickname should be “Mushroom Disneyland'' due to the fact that the majority of travelers who go there are seeking to experience psychedelic mushrooms. The knowledge of this practice was originally brought to the town by María Sabina, the famous chamanic healer. With a view of endless mountain ridges, I sat in my room with the sacred medicine and asked for clarity as to what is my life’s purpose, but unfortunately did not get the answers I had hoped for. I did, however, eat some of the best mushroom soup and quesadillas ever, and marveled at the way the clouds gracefully changed form over the endless mountain peaks.

I wished I could change as gracefully as those clouds.

In San Mateo del Rio Hondo, I got to experience a non-touristy mountain town, just 30 minutes away from Mushroom Disneyland. The scenery was also stunning, and I could enjoy them from a cozy cabin that was half the price of what I paid in San Jose and double the amount of space. Also, for the first time in weeks, I could cook in my living space, as where I stayed in Mazunte and San Jose had no kitchens. I enjoyed playing house in my little cabin, buying freshly cooked beans and tortillas from a woman that sold them from her kitchen down the street, and worked outside on my balcony with a view.

Next up on the tour of Oaxaca state was Oaxaca de Juárez, aka Oaxaca city. My first question was: have you ever seen the word “Oaxaca” used 3 times in one sentence? Hehehe ok only joking. My first impression was that it was jarring coming to a city after being held so gently in small towns surrounded by nature. But, reliable Wifi and finally getting my iPhone back were welcome pros.

My intentions going into that leg of the trip were to consume so much mole that it would become my blood type as well as experience all the Día de los Muertos magic possible. It was time to have a break from my intense self reflection and relax a bit.

There was one other city resource I was eager to take advantage of - health clinics. I had decided I wanted to get my IUD removed, for a number of reasons. Since the age of 17, I had been on some form of hormonal birth control. Now, at 28, I was getting the feeling that maybe I wasn't able to find clarity due to being less connected to my body's natural rhythms. I had been learning about how a women's wisdom comes from our womb and I wanted to get in touch with mine. Initially, the lack of having a period excited me when I got my IUD inserted in March 2021 (when I moved back to the US); however, I actually missed my monthly reminder of my feminine power. Being around so many spiritual women who cherished and ritualized their moon cycle also animated my interest to do the same.

Another reason was that when talking to women my age and older, they shared with wild glints in their eyes about feeling their sex drives begin to increase. This is usually the case as we get into our 30's, but I was just not feeling it. I wanted that wild glint, too. And finally, in the simplest of ways, I was excited to return to a body that was 100% natural, for the sake of my own physical health.

In the first week of my stay in Oaxaca, I was connected with a goddess named Marluy I met through the Hermanas Hermosas Oaxaca Whatsapp group when asking for a hairdresser recommendation. During my haircut, I shared my thoughts with her about my IUD, she supported my idea to get it removed, and discussed her own journey. It was the final motivation I needed to schedule an appointment. The very next day, she accompanied me to a clinic where I bid farewell to my Mirena. She held my hand and brought me lentils and a mix of feminine herbs to make tea in case of cramps. What a blessing it was to be supported by a sister in my time of need.

To allow myself time to reconnect with my body, I decided to combine the removal of my IUD with the start of intentional celibacy. This would be quite the new journey for me, as I love casual physical connections, but I was interested in experimenting in something different. Again influenced by other women around me and a podcast episode, the idea of saving my intimacy for myself and only the highest level connection was empowering.

Later on in the month, I was grateful to reunite with my good friend Bailey, who had also decided to leave Mexico City to check out Oaxaca's famous Muertos celebrations. We agreed that Oaxaca’s food reputation lived up to the hype as we explored the wide array of restaurants together. Additionally, the nearby towns are full of natural and cultural allure, and I had a blast exploring it all.

Yet, despite trying to give myself a break, the feelings of frustration and being stuck remained. I was filled with the feeling that I wanted to move forward, like a constant push, but I was unsure of where to direct that energy.

On one of those days when I was feeling extra discouraged, I decided I had to do something to give myself a feeling of hope.

I opened up an application for a working holiday visa in Australia.

That’s how everyone solves their problems, right? Find a new country and make plans to go there? No? Hmm, can’t relate (hehehe).

Anyway, I was granted the visa two days after I sent in the application. This brought me immediate, immense relief, like I had finally found a trail marker after wandering aimlessly for weeks - “This Way: Australia”. A clear option I could use to get myself out of the rut I was in.

Getting the visa was not as entirely spontaneous as it may sound. Ever since learning about the working holiday visa in high school, I knew it was something I wanted to take advantage of before I turned 30, which was approaching. The plan became: explore the remaining regions of Mexico left on my list while continuing to work for Cerebral, then jet off across the globe to a country where the work conditions and pay seemed to be a much healthier balance than my current situation.

In the Land Down Unda, you can actually make a decent salary from just a part time job, a concept completely alien to your average United Statesarian. With more free time, I could take courses, have hobbies, and overall have more than just the weekend to explore my interests. That sounded like a great environment to continue my self discovery mission.

Hilariously enough, that very week, I received an email from the Peace Corps inviting me to serve in the Dominican Republic as a Spanish Secondary School Teacher. Remember back when I moved home from Barcelona, I had applied and interviewed? They stayed in touch by email, asking me once every couple of moons to see that if I wasn’t invited to serve in X country, would I be open to serve in Y, Z, etc country? Always wanting to keep my options open, I would reply “yes, I’ll go anywhere Spanish speaking”. After months of playing this game, it made me want to pull my hair out that I had finally achieved a goal that I worked towards, but at such the wrong time. They gave me just a weekend to make my decision, so even though I felt honored to have been offered this opportunity, it did not spark joy. I checked the “decline invitation” box, sent a thank you email, and moved on. Aaarggg.

On October 28, 2023, the kickoff event of the Día de los Muertos celebration was a free concert in the Plaza de la Danza. During a parade, I linked up with a big group of travelers from a Whatsapp group, and we excitedly walked alongside masked and painted people so gorgeously done up and making all of my Coco movie dreams come to life. Upon arrival at the plaza, we walked through the crowd to find a spot to watch the concert. I reached into my bag to take out my phone, and to my absolute rage, found it had been stolen.

Again.

Not even a month after I got it back from Mexican customs. Someone had cut a slit into the side of my fabric tote bag and taken it out without me feeling a thing.

Now a pro in getting my phone stolen, a kind friend I had made in the city and I went to the police station two days in a row, as I was determined to do everything possible to try to retrieve my expensive rectangular block. They took us to the location as shown on the Find My iPhone app, talked to the neighbors, but were unable to retrieve it. Not much of a surprise, but I had to try. At least this time I knew I would be home soon where I could use insurance to get a replacement. However, it drove me up the wall that the same thing had happened again so soon. Plus I found out I still had to pay a deductible for the insurance, causing me to have to dip into my Australia savings fund.

When are phones going to just be installed into our eyeballs? That should be thief-proof… right?

Anyway, I gave my best wishes that whoever took it was able to provide for themselves and/or family because of it, and that they may one day find a path that brings them self-sustaining financial wealth. The money I lost would come back to me ten fold.

Time to move on.

As I boarded the bus from Oaxaca city to Mexico City, the end of my Tour of Oaxaca State Life Chapter materialized before my eyes. Present turned into the past tense. My eyes welled with emotion and my heart felt so many feelings: amazement, sadness, pride… and gratitude. So much gratitude. August in Puerto Escondido and Mexico City, September in Mazunte and the Sierra Sur mountains, and October in Oaxaca de Juárez. What I was craving more than anything at that moment was family and community. Empowering as it is to depend fully on myself, life is all about balance, and I was ready to go home and let someone else take care of me.

Chapter 7: The Bird is Ready for Some Serious Nest Time

Before flying back to California, I spent a week in Mexico City reconnecting with my community. The process of reflecting upon my months of adventures and growth began as I caught up with beloved friends. Then, it was off to LAX to make it home in time for Thanksgiving. The Beth who was home in July vs the Beth who came home in November felt more centered, more confident, and closer to finding clarity… but still, not quite there.

Patience. I was doing my best to be patient with myself.

Meanwhile, I accepted all of the love and help of my incredible family.

It is a glorious gift to be able to have a safe and nurturing nest to be able to lay down my tired wings.

At home, I called on more than just my family to help guide me to clarity - I also reached out to a professional. Back in Mazunte, my cabin buddy had introduced me to the podcast As Above, So Below, hosted by Cato, a professional astrologer and business coach. I had been wanting to get a reading done for so long but hadn’t found the right person or moment. Once I finished listening to every podcast episode, I knew she was it. I booked the session for the day before Thanksgiving.

To nobody’s surprise, my biggest hope for the reading was to gain insight as to what I should do with my life. As Cato specializes in Evolutionary Astrology, that is one of the main offerings of this way of interpreting charts: to discover what is my soul’s blueprint and life purpose.

If I had to describe the session in three words, they would be Unlock, Recharge, and Inspire.

Hearing her describe my planets, houses, and transits affirmed ideas I had been toying around with as well as lit up new neural pathways. It was like the dark sky was suddenly filled with bright stars, all within touchable distance. Like the cosmos, they were there all along, I was just given the guidance to look up and identify them. After she articulated so many of my innate talents and interests, I felt like I had all the ingredients laid out in front of me. The only question remaining was: what recipe would I choose? (Yes I used two metaphors in one paragraph and yes I’m keeping them both. I’m an Aquarius sun and will rebel against all rules, and a stubborn Taurus rising who will find any excuse to talk about food. Hehehe)

Days after the reading, Cato reached out to me to let me know she was having a Black Friday sale on her upcoming Astrology Course offering. With hardly a second thought, I signed up. It felt perfectly in line with my goal to invest in myself and my passions, one of them having always been astrology. Since it was presented to me so easily in my path, my gut said go for it. TIme to start breaking patterns and doing something new! Excitement fluttered in my heart and fresh doors of opportunity began constructing themselves in my brain.

Other housekeeping items I got done at home was pressing the Reset button on my material belongings to reprogram for a new chapter. I had been lugging around a 50 pound suitcase, duffel bag, and backpack throughout Oaxaca and I was so ready to downsize. It was all too clear that I had been holding on to too much, making it difficult to move - physically, and metaphorically. This time, I mindfully stocked my backpacking backpack with clothes for both hot and cold weather, made the painful decision to leave behind my nail polish collection, and added my newly acquired travel yoga mat and iPad to the set up. Instead of carrying around my markers, colored pencils, crayons, drawing pad, and books, I decided that an iPad would fulfill my artistic desires when they arrived, act as a reader for any book I may want, and be a replacement for my work laptop when the time came to quit my job. The cherries on top were a Swiss army knife keychain and a headlamp, gifted to me by my dad. Never underestimate the value of either of those tools.

After two weeks at home, it was back to LAX . There is a special type of confidence inspired by the feeling of being prepared for anything with just the gear carried on your back. I decided to begin this leg of Mexico travels in a new way: previously, I had booked in advance all the places I stayed in. However, this time, I decided to try something different - stay in a hostel for the weekend and look for a place once I got there.

Why? (a question especially asked by my plan-loving parents)

I wanted to try trusting the Universe.

To do something different to then trigger new outcomes. I was trying to get unstuck, and that would not happen by doing things the same way.

Plus, seeing places in person is way different than online. An added bonus.

After taking the first day to get a lay of the land, do a free walking tour, and get added to a Whatsapp group for housing, my second day in San Cristóbal de las Casas had a clear goal: find a place to rent by the end of the day. That Sunday turned into a real life International House Hunters episode and I had a blast. I visited three apartments, made a little visual of their pros and cons, but in the end, I relied most on my intuition to guide me to make a decision.

Of the three, there was one that stood out. It was a suite style apartment in a compound with a garden and sixteen total units, the majority occupied by young, international humans. As an added bonus, across the street was a community center that hosted donation based dinners every Friday, organized in part by some of the neighbors in my apartment building. 

Community.

It came with a built-in community.

Now, wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing to be able to filter for in an apartment searching app?

Happy as a clam, I unpacked my things and began the nesting process. San Cristóbal de las Casas, or San Cris for short, is a Pueblo Mágico in the state of Chiapas, nestled 2,200 m (7,200 ft) up in the mountains. Just like my previous travels, trusted sources had recommended this town for reasons such as its abundant nature, indigenous cultural presence, and spiritual community presence.

In San Cris, I decided that my intention was to stay put. I had realized that as much as I love exploring, it is time consuming to make reservations, figure out buses, be in transit, get settled in a new place, etc etc. Instead, I wanted to use my free time to focus on my own projects.

Do less to do more.

Crisp, sunny days and chilly nights aligned beautifully with my intentions. Cold climates naturally bring out my more hermetic qualities, perfect for the introspection and focus for which I was yearning. Yet, the same frustration bubbled up.

What is my purpose? What am I doing? Where am I going?

Again, and again, and again, these heavy hitting questions flooded my brain, and I was still drowning. Yes, I had my ideas, but I felt like I needed to start making progress and I didn't know where to begin.

I needed fresh air. A new strategy.

A lightbulb clinked on in my brain: I should write about my journey.

Like a hike in the woods, if you realize you are lost, it is not recommended to keep moving forward. Instead, you should either stay where you are, or try to backtrack. Did I feel lost in the woods? Yes. So, maybe if I took the time to map out my past, I could get an idea of where I am now.

Now, isn’t it funny how the expression “we teach best what we most need to learn” is so spot on? I am passionate about mental health and work in the field, yet, I struggle to remember to use the very coping strategies I recommend.

Welp, better late than never.

So, I got to the mission. Every morning before work, I would get out my laptop and start writing. Instead of just journaling about this for my own sake, I decided that sharing my story could help others who might be feeling the same way. As children, we read books that help us learn to share, resolve conflicts, and be a better person. Where are the stories for young adults?

Always loving a good visual aid, the idea of a bird’s journey resonated as a way to structure the long tale I set out to tell.

And here we are now.

Chapter 8: What Happened Once the Bird Finally Stayed Still

Isolating myself during the week to focus on writing and work was easier knowing that on Friday night, I had a reliable plan: walk across the street to the Casa Lab community space for the weekly dinner. This completely erased the usual New Place routine of “how will I make friends? Where should I go? What if I don’t meet anyone and then I waste my time and money?” At Casa Lab, I already knew two of my neighbors would be there. I shared the invitation in the group chat with the rest of my apartment complex as well. And, since it was so close to my home, there was no need to worry about what time I finished work, how to get there, if I would be arriving late, etc, etc. All family style, all close to home, all inclusive. No resistance in sight.

There, I began making connections with people who all chose to eat family style over any other Friday night plan. This meant that we all valued community. With that already in common, I felt more confident that the people I met there were the type of people I wanted to be spending time around.

Just like that, San Cris felt like home. My new friends invited me to movies, dinners, day trips, and even a big family style Christmas (/Hanukkah, hehe) dinner. Even though I was feeling so happy with my community there and my experiment in staying static, months ago I had taken off the first week of January to allow myself to explore Guatemala. I had doubts about going, thinking maybe I should just stay in San Cris to do more writing, connecting, etc, but my gut said no - give yourself this vacation. Chase your dreams. Go be free.

There was also another reason why I wanted to get to know Guatemala: my maternal great grandfather is Guatemalan. Carlos Eduardo Lascoutx Campo was a pilot in the Guatemalan Air Force who planted his seed during a trip to California. My great grandmother, Claudia Rateaver, was not ready for the responsibility of being a mother and put their boy up for adoption. Claud Rateaver became James Dale Macomber upon adoption. My grandfather. After he found out he was adopted, he got in contact with his biological mother Claudia, and developed a passion to trace his biological family. With my grandmother and their four kids, they spent years traveling the world to research and document our family tree. Thanks to that, we have two published books that contain cataloged data of our family roots. No need to sign up for Ancestry.com for my mom’s side of the family!

Pretty incredible, huh? I am in awe of their work and so grateful for the time they took to connect with such long reaching branches of our family tree.

Getting back to the story, before the trip, I did some research as to where I wanted to go in Guatemala and what I wanted to do. I had heard about the overnight trip to the Acatenango Volcano, where you could see the active volcano Fuego erupting at night.

Lava. Real life lava.

My inner child overflowed with delight at the prospect, as little Beth was obsessed with dinosaurs and all types of natural disasters.

Then, someone I met at an Airbnb back in CDMX had told me that Lake Atitlán, the deepest lake in Central America, was a place people flocked to for New Years. Deciding it would be nice to ring in the New Years surrounded by nature, I booked a shuttle to Panajachel, one of the twelve towns that surround the lake.

And that was the end of my plans.

I booked nothing but the transportation there and decided to leave everything absolutely open for the eleven days I had off. To continue my exploration of surrendering to the Universe, I would rely on my intuition to guide me and flow with whatever felt right.

I believe that that was the key that unlocked a trip that gave me more than I could have ever imagined.

Chapter 9: The Bird Discovers a Magic Lake

On the journey to the lake, the people I made friends with in the bus were all going to the same place: the Cosmic Convergence Festival. I had heard of the festival and knew someone from San Cris was going, but it was pretty expensive, and I did not want to commit to anything in advance. However, one of my guiding principles is to be around people I want to be like, so judging from the fact that the people I seemed to vibe with the most on the bus were going to the festival, I decided it was a sign that that is where I should go, too.

Something fascinating I learned from a person I met on the bus, Cozcacuahutli (or Cozcatl for short) from Mexico, is that at the bottom of Lake Atitlán is a submerged Mayan village. Basically a Guatemalan Atlantis. Then, let’s not forget that the lake is bordered by not one, not two, but three volcanoes. That’s a lot of fiery, spiritual energy for one lake.

Upon arrival in Panajachel, Cozcatl and I put our belongings down in a room rented to us by a friend of his. Exhausted from the 13 hour journey across Mexico and Guatemala, we ate dinner, browsed the unbelievably creative and colorful textiles for sale, then called it an early night.

The next morning, we crossed paths with three other people headed to the festival, Joey, Daniella, and Michael. They invited us to join forces and charter a ride directly to Santiago, the town where the festival was held. As we sped across the choppy waters, I got my first daytime view of Lake Atitlán.

I was taken aback.

The three volcanoes seemed to have a humble, graceful presence, kind of like big dog energy: they were aware of their grand beauty and power, but did think themselves better than anyone because of it. As my mouth gaped open, Joey shared that he had manifested some of his greatest dreams at this lake. Zaps of electricity sparked inside me and I felt the magic energy of the lake light me up. Big things were coming, I could feel it.

Exhilarated by the brisk winds of the boat ride, we arrived in Santiago hungry for the next adventure. We parted ways with the three musketeers and bumped our way in a tuk tuk across cobblestones and dirt roads to the festival entrance. Cozcatl met up with some friends of his and after setting up the tent and painting our faces, I was eager to check out this new environment on my own. While walking around, a woman announced the beginning of a self defense workshop, so I took that as my opportunity to separate myself from the group. Immersing myself in all that the festival had to offer began.

At the workshop, I connected with a woman who had been given a big tent in the artist’s camping section to stay in, as she was going to step in and play drums for a band in need. She offered to share her tent with me, which I gratefully accepted, as Cozcatl’s tent would have been a little snug for two. Once my sleeping situation was settled, I was in need of some alone time, so I found a path to the water and took out my journal.

I closed my eyes and breathed, in and out deeply.

I felt the brisk air fill my lungs and after a few moments, reopened my eyes.

Somehow, I was at a music festival on a lake with a sunken ancient town at the bottom and volcanoes all around. I felt deep gratitude for the ability to be alive in such a special place and thanked myself for all the work I did to bring me there. It was December 30th, 2022 and time to set intentions for the New Year.

When pen hit the paper, the difference between writing my intentions for 2022 and for 2023 was clear: this time, I wrote detailed, specific goals. Instead of just “work hard on passion projects”, I specified that I wanted to write in my blog at least once every three months, host one storytelling event, etc. Manifesting my dreams using the magic of the lake inspired me, and I felt the beauty surrounding me seep into my every cell.

I soaked it up like a sponge.

I became as present as possible, consciously anchoring myself in that moment so I could later come back to that feeling whenever I may desire.

Inspired by the idea of using the lake’s mystical energy to manifest my own dreams, I decided to open up about some of the concepts I had been developing and see what it felt like to share them. With surprising speed, the Universe ushered people who mirrored my state of consciousness into my path: astrologers, female program leaders, community builders. When I shared my ideas with them, I was met with encouragement, praise, and offers to stay in touch. Co-creating with people who want to do the same things as me or are already doing them was an ingredient I had overlooked, and definitely now added to the recipe.

I also found that the more vocal I became about my intentions, the more energy of support I felt. People really listened to my ideas and gave me valuable feedback. Each new perspective was like shining a new light on an idea, so that little by little, the beginning embryonic stage of my dreams began to form recognizable shapes, colors, textures, movement, smells, and sounds. Clarity. It was all coming together.

In these moments, I began to understand why people use the phrase “to birth an idea”. My long period of preparation was necessary and natural, and now I was starting to feel the first thrilling kicks of life.

After the festival, I spent three nights in San Marcos la Laguna, another town on the lake. This was the most spiritual of them all and became sort of the after-party of the festival - in the drum circle, medicine songs type of way. Just minutes after disembarking the speed boat, I was walking up "Hippie Highway" - aka the main pedestrian path of the town - and was approached by a muscular, handsome Italian man, asking "Do you need a hostel?" It was love at first sight - with San Marcos, I mean. Immediately I was welcomed into a sweet hostel with a garden, outdoor kitchen, and a two story house equipped with plenty of comfy beds.

Exhausted after my nights of camping in the cold at the festival, I dropped anchor on one of the beds and connected to Wifi for the first time in days. Some long minutes of scrolling later, I heard the door open, and my Italian host Eduardo had caught another homeless fish from the stream. The fish's name was Dario, from Costa Rica, and somehow full of energy despite the fact that he had also attended the festival. He promptly asked me if I had eaten yet, which I hadn't, and informed me we could go together once he had a shower. Ah yes, those two basic needs I needed to accomplish. Saved by this cheerful angel, I lugged myself off the bed to feel hot water on my body for the first time since arriving in Guatemala and go off in search of sustenance with my new friend.

In our hostel with no name, Dario and I soon added Klas and Amanda, a couple from Sweden who had also been at Cosmic, to our happy family. It makes me laugh that I lived in Sweden for nine months but had to go all the way to Guatemala to actually make Swedish friends. Being around these kindhearted souls was like tying the bow on the festival experience. We cooked together, explored together, shared dreams together, and laughed together - lots and lots of laughing.

I bid them a temporary goodbye, because I still had one last thing I had to do: climb the Acatenango Volcano. Through a tour company in San Marcos, I was able to arrange transportation from the lake to Antigua, where I would link up with the group I'd do the hike with. My group turned out to just be myself and a Costa Rican couple, who were pleasant but not too talkative, and we were taken by a driver to our local guide's house. There, we met Jorge and his family, who provided us with a packed lunch, water, and walking sticks (I already had a headlamp, remember? Just had to point that out. Ok, back to the story). We were then whisked off to the base of the volcano to began the steep, uphill climb. Five hours of huffing, puffing, peeling layers on and off, a stop for lunch, and countless breaks later, we arrived to base camp on the side of the volcano. It was time for a nap. When night arrived, the temperature plummeted and the wind soared, but that is when the active volcano Fuego begins to erupt. About every half an hour to hour or so, if you are watching at the right moment, the volcano explodes and you can see lava trickle down in little vein-like rivers. Bucket list item completed: see lava in real life.

Throughout the night, it was exhilarating being awakened by the boom of wind from the eruption. The air would slam into the plastic walls of our camp and we could feel the ground shake. After the boom, the clashing sound of rocks sliding down its gravely body always followed. In a way, I was reminded of sleeping next to the ocean, except instead of waves, it was lava, rocks, and smoke causing the sounds. Definitely the most extreme camping experience I've ever had. That night, the winds were too strong to be able to safely attempt the optional nocturnal hike to Fuego. It was something I would have wanted to do; however, the freezing temperatures and the state of fatigue I was in also welcomed the opportunity to sleep instead.

In the morning, we awoke to a gorgeous sunrise. It is curious how Fuego's lava becomes shy during the day, emitting only clouds of black smoke. Once we finished breakfast, we all agreed we wanted to do the final optional hike to the top of Acatenango. Reaching the top of the 13,041 ft (3,976 m) summit was one of the most difficult physical experiences I have ever paid and willingly chosen to be put through (humans are so insane), but worth it. I mean, I can't say I climbed almost all the way to the top.

If 2023 started with me sleeping next to an active volcano and climbing to the top of an even higher dormant one, what will I be able to accomplish with the rest of the year? Achieving that will be my reminder that with a clear goal, proper preparation, endurance, and determination, I will be able to make more dreams come true. The only limit is my imagination.

Chapter 10: The Bird Prepares to Hatch Some Eggs

I had been pushing myself so hard to find answers, I had gotten stuck in my mind. When I dropped down into my heart and intuition, it was like everything shifted into place.

Once I paused to consider what I already knew how to do, I realized how many talents and how much experience I have. I had been allowing society’s conditioning messages that I needed to pursue a Master’s, or find a high paying position with ample benefits, or work extra hard to climb the corporate ladder as the only outlets to further my professional life. That was what was making me feel stuck. Perhaps in a previous generation, those were the options. A set in stone formula that rigidly demanded all people should evolve in the same way.

Well, all people are not the same.

When I allowed myself to imagine and dream big, that was where I finally found a path that lit up my insides.

Astrology.

Community building.

Working with teenage girls, their moms, and their grandmas in education and recreation.

Creating something.

Since what society presented to me did not resonate, I realized that I have to create my own path.

Duuuh, I’m an Aquarius Sun, Mars, and Venus. I can’t do anything like anyone else. I am here to innovate, rebel, and change the world - not follow anyone else’s rules.

So, now what?

Time to take action.

Day by day, I am going to take steps that will bring me closer to my goals.

January 18th, 2023 was the start of the Astrology Course that I signed up for back on Black Friday. By the end of this course, I will possess the astrological knowledge and business strategies to be able to become a professional astrologer.

That is my short term professional goal.

My long term professional goal came to me when I sat with rapé on the rooftop in Puerto Escondido. The initial seed that sprouted was a general idea: I wanted to create some kind of outside of school, wellness retreat-style program for girls. Since that initial bloom, the vines have been slowly and steadily creeping throughout my body, forming more and more connections until I now have a living, breathing goal rooted deep within me.

I want to create a program for teenage girls to come together, form sisterhood, learn about essential life topics not taught in school, combine generations, and have fun while doing it. There is such a need for more spaces for girls and women to connect, everywhere in the world, so we can share knowledge, support each other through our highs and our lows, and create community - for all, without sports, politics, religion, culture, etc being at the center.

Creating this program would use every single one of my talents and experiences to form something that I see that our world lacks. At the end of this post, I’ll share more about this, for anyone interested.

Excitement buzzes through my body just to talk about it.

And there you have it.

My life journey over the past 10 years.

What it’s taken for me to finally find clarity. For the first time ever, I feel like I know who I am and my purpose in life. (At this moment, at least)

And it’s only just beginning.

In astrology, there is an important transit called a Saturn return, which usually takes place between the ages of 27 and 30, caused by Saturn returning to the same position it was when you were born. During this time, you will be forced to face the areas of your life that you may have previously ignored, as Saturn represents topics like maturity, hard work, accountability, and adulthood. The opportunity is to get serious about what your legacy is and take responsibility, or resist and continue playing it small. If you choose the latter option, when your Saturn return comes around a second time 30 years later, you will have the same problems to face.

Well, I am fully immersed in my Saturn return and am choosing to embrace it. I have suffered from being constantly wrought with thoughts of “Am I doing what I’m really supposed to be doing?” and answering no, time and time again. However, growth is uncomfortable, so out of this discomfort I am now finally feeling like I see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I am ready to make the changes in my life to close the first chapter and welcome in a beautiful transformation into adulthood. I am thrilled with the possibilities that await me and am committed to working hard to achieve them. A message I received at the magical lake in Guatemala was that there is no time to play small. We must dream big, as the universe is counting on each and every one of us to do what we can to restore love and light into the world. I am taking that energy into 2023 and sharing my intentions so that I will be held accountable.

My hope is that by sharing my journey, others may resonate and gain comfort in knowing they are not alone in feeling lost, or ready for a big change. We must rise together to create the New World of our dreams. It is possible, but only through a collective shift. And that is happening.

So, that is what I’ve been doing :-)

♡ The End ♡ 

More About my Program Idea and Inspiration

Ever since my first job as a Camp Counselor at my temple’s summer camp, I've been searching for ways to make that position last throughout the year. Hence the reason I chose to study the Youth Work and Out of School Time concentration in my Child and Adolescent Development degree, as I knew I wanted to do something with kids, just not in school.

After years of working different jobs with children, I was feeling unbalanced, as I also had many other passions that tugged at my heart. I would love to study art, or nutrition, or plants, or yoga, or tour guiding, or therapy. The idea of picking just one stressed me out.

So… why not combine them all?

The solution: a program focused on girls and women to come together, form community, and empower the feminine uprising currently occurring on our planet. And make it fun, of course.

I want to take the best parts of the activities I grew up with that helped shape me, as well as what I have learned as an adult that I wish I knew as a kid.

One inspiration comes from the YMCA program I did growing up called Adventure Guides (previously Indian Guides, before PC culture emerged), similar to Girl/Boy Scouts. I was in a father daughter “tribe” that would meet once a month at a different member’s house to do arts and crafts, eat snacks, and always ended with a ritual that for each life event passed, we would receive a specific colored bead to add onto our necklace. Additionally, twice a year, all of the Adventure Guides tribes would gather for a weekend camping trip. Everyone would bring supplies not only for themselves, but also to contribute to communal meals, and of course prepare a skit to be presented around the fire on the last night of the weekend. All of this, in hindsight, was teaching me how to camp, survival skills, and intergenerational, communal living.

Another huge inspiration comes from my Jewish upbringing. I have so much gratitude for being raised in the Jewish community it’s hard to know where to begin. Despite what may come to mind when imagining an organized religion, Temple Beth Torah’s influence taught me to be open minded, humanitarian, spiritual, culturally aware, and outspoken. In the Torah, we are commanded to do “mitzvot”, or good deeds - not to get into Heaven or avoid Hell (Jews don’t have either of these beliefs); rather, just because it is the right thing to do. If you combine that with our long (and continued) history of persecution, this produces a person who really honors the value of helping others, no matter their background. Highlights from my Jewish education include social action projects, guided meditations during youth led services, organizing overnight raves in our temple for other Southern California Jewish high school youth groups to attend (yes, you read that right), and sweaty song sessions where we would belt our hearts out to “Wonderwall” accompanied by a throng of acoustic guitar wielding teenagers (looking back, some of the songs we sang were medicine songs that I continue to hear around healing ceremony fires). And, coincidentally, the Jewish high school youth group organization I was a part of, NFTY, also gave beads to add to your necklace for each event attended. Very tribal to use a decorative, visual system to determine someone’s status in life.

So, the dream is to form an intergenerational community and invite teachers of different disciplines to share their knowledge about subjects not commonly covered in the educational system. This is what I mean by the things that I wish I had learned when I was younger. My hope would be that early exposure to a wide variety of topics could lead to something sparking the interest of the participants, later turning into a roaring flame of passion and leadership.

PS - if you know someone doing something like this, have an idea, or want to somehow contribute, please message me! Co-creation is the best kind of creation ♡

Afterword

It has been a grounding and humbling experience converting my journey to words. This began as an exercise for myself to figure out what I’m doing. Thanks to my therapist pointing out that I am a visual learner, she suggested I draw or write out my life path, then add branches of ideas of where I could see it going. This is my interpretation of that suggestion, and wow am I proud of the hard work I put into it. I had been feeling like nobody really knows what I’ve been up to, seeing as I’m constantly moving around and interacting with new people that just know bits of my story. Then, I also realized, I don’t even fully know what I’ve been doing, as I haven’t given myself much time to stop, reflect, and think about how I want to move forward.

By pulling out the internal threads and weaving them into an external piece, I finally can put the finished work on the table and say “Look! This is me”. Now that I’ve made sense of my past and validated my experiences, I feel confident in charting the next course. I know where I’ve been and now I know where I want to go.

As a final anecdote, I was fortunate enough to experience the powerful Bufo medicine in a healing ceremony recently. When I returned to my body, I walked away from the group to give myself space, and immediately my eyes were drawn to a nest in a tree. Immediately, I thought about this story and felt grateful that the universe gave me such a clear sign. Synchronicity is so beautiful.

To conclude, I would love for anyone to reach out about anything this post might have stirred up inside you. Maybe you resonate with something, have questions, or share a common goal - whatever it may be, send me a message.

Thank you so much for reading and witnessing me on my journey. I love and appreciate you.

♡♡♡

[pasteidolons]

COME WHAT MAY - LSM

pairing: lee seokmin x female reader, one-sided hong jisoo x reader members: kim mingyu, yoon jeonghan, choi hansol (vernon), xu minghao, boo seungkwan genre: historical au (early 1900’s)/historical fiction, angst, fluff,  warnings: injuries, coarse language, alcohol, smoking, political insurgence, smut (next part, mdni), historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 22.1k summary: you follow hong jisoo to kyoto after a troubling letter sends you spiraling. among the faces of new friends, a bond is formed and fate begins to tightly weave itself around you and lee seokmin.

MASTERLIST || PART II

[ 1909.04.01. Boston, MA ] ‘Josh,

I feel enough time has adequately passed to allow me to write to you. Although, there is not much news from home to tell you of. 

The snow is fast disappearing now. I came across an article in the paper the other day about Boston and it said that 14 or 15 years ago bears used to roam around the northern end of the city, but there seems to be nothing around now except the wild fowl, and an uncountable number of deer. 

How are your hands now? I know that the winter air dries yours as it does mine. Mine are very cut, so scattered with paper trails that I fear I should bleed ink from all the books that you left me. Have you been able to acquire any more on your travels? I find that the supply you gave me is running rather low now. 

You left for Munich enquiring after Daniel Lim if I recall the name correctly, I hope you found him in good health on your arrival. I also hope he does not overwork you, you said as much happened the last you worked under him in London.

I am very pleased to say I am keeping very well, and I trust you are the same. If anything happens, know that I will gladly storm my way across the sea and give your wrongdoers what for.

I miss you. And I hope you return soon, you know I love to hear about your travels.’

A short chuckle to yourself as you pull the pen away from the paper after signing your name, ink stains settling into the grooves of your fingers as you aren’t cautious enough with the writing implement. Short blows over the thin paper as you try to dry the ink as quickly as possible, although this isn’t the sweltering heat of the summer you’re unsurprised the ink hasn't run but so much. Carefully standing from your seat you begin your search around the room for an envelope, fingers brushing over various stacks of papers and novellas lying around your workspace. Eventually you find a weathered, but perfectly usable one underneath a dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre. You address the letter to his newest residence, some boarding house in Germany, but you aren't sure if he is even staying there anymore. If that doesn't work out and one of your letters is stamped “Return to Sender” once more, you’ll just have to wait for him to send you something first. It seems like you are always waiting after Josh. Not that you mind much, you had been as thick as thieves as teenagers and that had hardly ever changed, even after he’d decided to go abroad and study, then go onto some teaching stints wherever the wind blew him.

As you return to your seat you hear gentle meowing outside, head peering over your desk and out of the glass panes into the garden below you spot a small gray and white tabby looking up at you. A sigh escaping your lips as you move to grab your pen once more, beginning to write a post scriptum,

‘p.s. Your lovely feral cat has now decided that I take ownership of her in your absence. Is there a name you prefer I call her?’

You hope he can understand your tone, it’s an issue of yours that the words you write sometimes don't hit their mark. Regardless, you’d send the letter and hear his thoughts on it whenever he has the gaul to write back. You straighten your back from your hunched position and move through the house, your fingers tracing along the smooth walls until you reach the door leading into the garden, it lay nestled in the corner of the kitchen. There’s a faint scratching as you approach, only opening it to find the same tabby waiting for you, it barrels inside once it sees an opportunity.

“You wretch,” tsking as she begins brushing up against your leg. “What am I going to do with you?”

[ 1909.04.30. 今出川, 京都 ] The ground crunches underfoot as Seokmin walks; the pavement, covered with a thin layer of grit from a small windstorm that had picked up an hour or so prior, feels as if it’s shifting as his leather soled shoes move over it. The storm having left its mark and not going to disappear until a rain shower decides to wash it away, he breathes in the particles still floating through the unseasonably balmy weather. A small frown as he fans his jacket, allowing some air to circulate under the thick fabric. Had it not been impolite, he would have shed the garment as soon as he stepped out of the train station only minutes ago. His hand still wrapped around his bag he looks to the signs adorning the tops of businesses along the road. Seokmin was never great at learning hanja, so when it came time for him to begin learning the already different kanji and further hiragana and katakana that would come along with his trip abroad, he thought he might set out to find a tutor during his time here. Hand moving to rummage around the inside of his jacket, he procures a worn letter from its depths. ‘今出川 居酒屋,’ it is the only thing foreign to him within the contents of the scripture, the sender had asked to meet him there for lunch on the second day of Seokmin’s arrival to Kyoto.

Seokmin finds the bar after walking a few more blocks, north from the station and hidden away behind a bookstore in a back alley. Before he enters, he pauses. His grip on the letter tightening, the parchment creasing from the increased pressure as the slight tingly pervasiveness of guilt begins to wrack him from the inside out. A look to his left, and then to his right, a ghost of a figure in his peripheral, deterring him from running from the drinkery. It drives him closer, away from an inevitable future and towards the uncertain present. 

A haze of smoke blankets the air as he enters, that of tobacco intermingling with the small fire stoking in the back of the bar. It invades his nose rather viciously, itching the back of his throat and causing tears to form in the corners of his eyes as he greets the hostess with a small ‘Hello’ and ‘A table, please.’ She guides him and he settles down at a chabudai towards the front of the building, almost with enough of a view so that he can peer past the two small curtains at the entrance and into the street.

The letter now resting atop the table and his bag by its side, he reaches into his jacket yet again to procure an almost empty pack of cigarettes and a newly bought lighter. He had run out of fluid during his journey across the sea and he thought that buying a new one would be a novel idea to commemorate his trip. Seokmin’s eyes wander around the enclosed space as he scans the faces of the patrons. Most are men but there is the occasional woman mingling among the crowd as well. Cigarette placed on his lips, lighter spewing to life and igniting the end as he takes a deep breath in. Seokmin hates smoking, hates the way it pierces his lungs with its inky black vapors. It leaves his breath smelling awful, but it is just something people do to pass the time, and it calms him if only for a quiet moment. Fingers finding the cigarette, he removes it for a moment, tapping it against a small silver dish atop the table, the ashes pooling at the bottom as he continues to look for someone he hasn’t met yet.

“Did you want to order anything else?” A voice to his right calls out, he jumps slightly before turning, only to find the kimono clad waitress at his side. She sets down a tray of dishes, some foods he recognizes, and some he thinks to be the local cuisine.

“Oh, no thank you.” As his eyes look over the food, he moves to rest his cigarette in the ashtray to come back for later.

The woman gives a short smile and brief nod before speaking again, “Please let me know if you need anything.” Even after she had walked away, Seokmin could feel her eyes lingering on him like a child seeing some sort of marvel for the first time. This is not to say that he thinks that highly of himself, just that he knows that he is an outsider in a foreign place, his accent could tell anyone as much.

“I think she likes you.” A voice speaks up when Seokmin goes to take a bite out of the onigiri on his tray.

Mouth half full and brow furrowed in confusion, Seokmin turns to face wherever the voice had come from, “What did you say?” Chewing his food and swallowing rather harshly, he almost chokes as he thinks he’s going insane after hearing what sounded like Korean. This time it was a man who spoke, he was sitting at another table across from him, a shifty grin on his face. Something about him seemed different from everyone else in the bar, but the man couldn’t quite put a finger on it in this dimly lit room.

“She’s still staring at you.” The other man answers, now standing up and proceeding to walk over to him. “But it’s not like she’s hearing me say that anyway,” He laughs, brushing his hands against the lapels of his jacket.

Now in a better light, the man can get a better view of this stranger. “Are you Korean too?” He asks in his native tongue, feeling much more relieved that the burden of speaking a different language is momentarily sated.

“Did I give myself away that easily?” Another laugh as the man settles down in the seat adjacent. He pauses for a moment, his eyes staring into Seokmin’s as if he’s trying to memorize his facial features. “You wouldn’t happen to be Lee Dokyeom, would you?”

“Seokmin, actually– That’s just a teasing name.” He clears his throat. “I am,” Eyes glancing at the letter still atop the table, Seokmin comes to a realization, “Are you Yoon Jeonghan?”

“I am,” he smiles as he extends his hand. Less practiced with western formality Seokmin looks at the greeting for a moment before raising his own to formally address him, “It’s nice to meet you.” After a moment they drop their hands away from each other, Jeonghan’s gaze shifting to watch the hostess move his food from his old table to the one he now shares with Seokmin. “With an accent like that you must be from the south, Daegu, maybe?”

“Suji, actually.” He returns to his food for a moment, Jeonghan taking this time to also take a few bites from his own bento. “Where did you learn Japanese?”

“Did Jisoo not tell you?” Jisoo is their mutual friend, he’d given Seokmin Jeonghan’s contact information to inquire if he had any availability to tutor him. “I studied with him when we were in college, I moved here a year after we graduated. I had my parents move here once my mother became ill so I could better look after her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Seokmin frowns, shifting as he sets his chopsticks down. The two must have met after Seokmin had left his schooling to return to his family, per their wishes. 

A smile, “She made a perfect recovery and even returned home. I, however, am still trying my luck here.” Jeonghan reaches for the porcelain flask of sake the hostess had brought over, pouring himself a small glass then offering one to Seokmin. The younger politely refuses, still not accustomed to the savoriness of the drink, as Jeonghan nods and knocks back his own cup before speaking again. “When can you start classes? We typically meet for an hour or two every day if we can.”

“We?” Seokmin is caught up on the word, he thought these would be private lessons, not an actual class. He leans forward, somewhat anxious at the thought of his abysmal language skills to be put on show for more than one audience member.

“Just a handful of other students from all over the place,” Shoulders shrugging, Jeonghan leans backwards, hands placed atop his knees as he stretches his back. “We have a few Korean and Chinese kids, even a Canadian student as well. Not everyone’s at the same level so you shouldn’t worry too much about it.” He smiles, toothy and carefree as if there wasn’t an unhappy thought that had ever crossed him, Seokmin somewhat resents the uncertain assumption he made. “The schoolhouse isn’t too far away from here actually; did you want to stop by?” Hand motioning towards the doorway, Jeonghan’s head tilts inquisitively.

“I actually have to check in at the hotel I’m staying in, my parents told me to write whenever I arrived and I’ve been putting that off for a while,” A sigh escapes him. Seokmin had been thinking about what to pen for the past day and a half but couldn’t muster the strength to go through with it. He’d left on rocky terms and was expecting to be hounded whenever they responded. “I’ll stop by tomorrow when you have class if that’s alright?”

“Fine by me,” He’s now searching his own pockets, finding a pen and reaching out for the letter near Seokmin. Jeonghan scribbles down something, a few kanji that Seokmin can’t decipher, and hands him the paper back, “Classes start at ten, when you’re in the area just ask someone if they know where this is and they’ll point you in the right direction.”

“Thanks,” Seokmin looks down to the paper, seeing in his periphery that Jeonghan was already on his feet, straightening his jacket as he begins to head over to the waitress.

Seokmin sees him say something but can’t make out what, it’s only when Jeonghan turns to him and speaks that he can ascertain the meaning, “Don’t worry about paying this time, you’ll have to treat me to lunch some other day.” And with that Seokmin finds himself alone once more in the tavern.

[ 1909.04.30. Boston, MA ] The letter had arrived early in the morning, but you had been out in town with your mother attending some group function that you didn't want to be a part of in the first place. So, when you walk into your own little study and see it lying atop your things you race over and tear open the seal adorning it.

‘When I arrived in Munich, my work left me so urgent that I could not write in time before I left again. I thus deferred it to a point where I once again found myself with solid footing. It rains heavily in Seoul today; my travels have taken me here instead of crossing the Atlantic.

Currently I am holding a tutoring position for the American consulate’s son. I expect to hold this position for some time before I return home to Boston. 

Tell my mother not to fuss over me too much, if anything I implore her to look after you. Of all people, other than your own family, she knows of the antics you pursue.

I was able to sneak out a few books from Munich, upon my return I swear to you that you will have the greatest library in all America- no, the world, even.

If I were a better artist, or wealthy enough to photograph, I would show you how beautiful my journey across the world has been. Although so much has changed in Seoul since I held my studies here. I cannot help but have the inklings of melancholy eat away as I recall the memories and compare them to what I see now. This will come to pass, I hope. 

I hear the boy calling for me now— My writing will have to cease here, I fear. Send my affection to your family, I know they miss me as much as you do.

With all the love I can muster,

x Josh

p.s. I think I have decided to call her Minnie, please refer to her as that accordingly.’

While scattered with his familiarities and humor, the letter seems all too short, all too hurried. Your lips purse as you read over it, brow furrowing as a small knot in your stomach begins to form. Thumb rubbing over the x marking his name the worry only grows ever more prevalent, you pull your eyes away from the words and begin to rummage around for your own writing implements and paper, wanting to respond to him as quickly as possible.

‘Josh,

Your letter left much to be desired. Seoul? Your mother anxiously awaits your return any day now, before you left you said you would only be gone until early May at most. I hope that nothing unsavory has happened, God knows you find yourself in trouble more than any other man I know. 

Please let her know that you are safe, I fear that she may follow after you should you be gone any longer. A son should never burden his mother with his absence for an extended period, I can only keep her company for so long before her weariness sets in and she longs to see you. 

She also knitted you a pair of gloves, seeing as you left your moth-eaten ones behind. I know the air is growing warmer, but it is somewhat endearing to see how doting she is over you. Please, ease her mind by writing.’

[ 1909.04.30.-1909.04.31.  今出川ホテル, 京都 ] Seokmin eventually finds himself standing at the small entrance of a hotel, the name written in cursive English on a wooden sign above the doorway. Jisoo had recommended the inn, saying that it would be one of the more accepting places to stay at as a foreigner. It has a somewhat Victorian looking façade, contrasting the traditional Japanese styled buildings around it, he wonders why that is as he ascends the handful of steps to the door, struggling ever so slightly while lugging his bag behind him. As the door swings open, he’s greeted by an elderly woman with a rather round face, “Good evening,” she smiles and ushers him inside. “Did you need a room for the night? Or do you have a reservation?”

Mind fogging as he struggles to keep up, “Apologies, my Japanese isn’t—” The stone floor clicking underfoot as he follows her to the main desk.

“Ah, Korean?” It’s accented, but he appreciates it nonetheless. “Do you have a reservation?” Her hands dance along a worn leather book atop the desk, flipping it open as she looks down a list of names, some of those which are crossed out and some of which are not.

“I do,” He nods his head with a short smile, “It should be under Lee.”

Humming as she runs her finger down the list, as her head turns upward it causes Seokmin to return his attention to her, “Mr. Lee Heesung or Mr. Lee Seokmin?”

“Lee Seokmin,” he says, shifting his weight from foot to foot, mentally hitting himself as he should’ve been more specific. Eyes scanning the list, Seokmin takes a short look around the interior of the inn. The space is smaller than he imagined, but rather cozy. A glowing fire going to warm the chill of the night, large armchairs beside it and the largest bookshelf he’s ever seen built around the hearth.

“Wonderful,” She smiles, turning her back to him to find his room key from a small drawer behind the desk. Before she faces him again fully, she shifts through a small stack of papers atop the desk, “This also came for you,” The woman reaches to pull out a thin card from the stack, it has both hangul and kanji printed on it so it was easy to assume it’d come from his homeland.

“Thank you,” He smiles back before taking the telegram and tucking it into his jacket pocket. She hands him the key and he’s off to find his hotel room. It lays up the staircase and down a winding corridor, as he passes by some of the rooms, he can hear the muffled voices of a few of the other patrons, speaking languages he can mildly understand and others that sound alien. Once he finds his room, he’s all too giddy to throw himself onto the bed. Door locked, shoes and suitcase strewn aside he falls onto the plush bed, his eyes watching the ceiling as the weight of sleep begins to take over his vision.

Broken sunlight filters into the room, the shades drawn enough only to allow sharp slants of light to come through. The city outside is bustling whereas the hotel room seems almost vacant of any form of noise, save for the sound of soft breathing as the occupant sleeps. Lee Seokmin continues to snore softly, dreaming of something sweet enough to add a slight curvature to his lips. He rolls in his slumber, the telegram received in the night folding under his weight, unbeknownst to him.

Three swift knocks rouse him from the depths of slumber. He bolts up, raising a hand to run through his hair as a frown of confusing forms on his lips, wiping away whatever essence of his dream remained. “Are you awake?” A voice rings out seconds after the rapping. It’s the woman from the night before, Seokmin was too tired to connect the dots quite yet.

“Yes,” He responds groggily, moving to allocate his footing onto the floor. He hears soft footsteps leading away from his door, he supposes his wakeup call is completed. Rummaging around his wrinkled jacket-pocket he pulls out his timepiece, the clock reveals that it is seven forty-five in the morning, he has two hours before his lessons begin. Letting out a soft groan, he places the watch away and pushes himself onto his feet. His knees creaking and cracking as he rises and stretches out his arms, signaling that his sleep must’ve been docile. Once again, his hand moves to his jacket as he recalls the telegram, now crumpled in the crevasses of his pocket. Seokmin pulls out the card, walking to draw open the shades to allow more reading light in.

“Lee Seokmin,” He mumbles out, reading over the first, short line as the sleep is rubbed from his eyes. ‘Mom and Dad are going to kill you if you continue to ignore them. For my sake, please write. - Seoyeon’

An audible scoff after he’s finished reading, he can almost hear his sister’s tone. Seokmin does care about his family, but his sister is as much on his parents’ side as he is against it, it is a giant rift in their already teetering relationship.

The telegram tossed onto the bed as Seokmin takes off his jacket, he has been avoiding his familial issues for a while now and it seems as if they have come back to bite him in the ass. It isn’t entirely his fault for doing so, his father was never a good listener and Seokmin’s ideas were always pushed asunder.

A few moments later he finds himself in a fresh set of clothes, ready to face the day. In truth, he is dreading his lessons but at least it will provide some relief from thinking about the drama happening back in Suji. His shoes drag along the wooden floor as he steps out of his room, locking it with the small, gilded key behind him. Once in the hallway, his posture straightens as he begins to make his way towards the staircase that would lead him into the main lobby. The crushed emerald, green velvet railing runs under his fingers as he descends, swiftly moving into his pockets once his feet land on the granite tiles splaying out an ocean of deep gray below him.

A thin beam of light shines in through the slit in the door of the entranceway, the windows attached to the door are covered in the same crushed velvet encasing the staircase via curtain. It feels like he is in a black hole with how dimly lit the interior of the building is. Eventually he makes his way through the lobby, past the plumes of smoke belonging to the lackadaisical men resting in overly decadent armchairs smoking out of their kiserus.

Seokmin shuffles his way to the front desk, a younger woman manning it instead of the elderly woman from the night prior. “Can I help you?” Voice sullen sounding, or maybe tired, Seokmin still isn’t awake enough yet to dissect it fully. 

Reaching into his pocket, pulling out the letter from Jeonghan with the name of the school, “I’m looking for this?”

The girl leans over the desk, it’s easy to tell the yukata she wears is inhibiting her from her full range of motion. Eyes reading the characters carefully, “Whoever wrote this has awful handwriting,” She mutters under her breath and Seokmin can’t understand it entirely. “It’s about a fifteen-minute walk that way,” Hand raising to motion southward, “When you see the sweets shop you should turn right, and it will be a few buildings down on your right.”

A nod of his head as he thinks he caught most of her instruction. He takes the paper back and tucks it away, thanking her as he makes for the door. The heat greets him with a gentle breeze, an inkling of warmth as to what’s in store for later in the day. Seokmin looks to the sky, to see where the sun is positioned so he is able to gauge the direction he was supposed to go. He sets off, pace not brisk or lax, merely at a stride to absorb what’s around him. It’s still early in the morning, plenty of time before the school day begins to wander the streets for a bit.

The street’s crowded, thinning in places where it seems more residential than not, it reminds him of home. Different feel, different language but it has a strange nostalgic aura about it. A sweetness hitting his nose as he approaches a small wooden building, he can’t read what it is but by the smells emanating from it he supposes that it’s the sweet shop the girl at the hotel had told him to turn at. Head tilting to peer down the street, it looks like nothing of note. As he stands there, presumably looking more confused than the average local, he feels a finger gently tap on his shoulder, “Are you lost?”

The voice comes as a surprise, turning Seokmin on his heels to come face to face with a stranger. Eyes wide as he looks the boy over, “A little bit... I’m looking for,” reaching into his pockets as the other stops him.

“Are you Lee Seokmin?” It seems as if everyone here knew of him before he could introduce himself. Before he can speak, a nod of affirmation rattles through him and the other smiles, “Jeonghan said that we’d be getting a new student in today.” Hand outstretching, Seokmin’s a little more practiced with the greeting now, “My name’s Kim Mingyu, I can show you the way to the school if you want?”

“It’s nice to meet you,” He gives a brief smile before another nod of his head, “I’d really appreciate it.”

[ 1909.05.06. San Francisco, CA ] If anything were to be your downfall, it would be that of your impatience. You’d been sitting down with Josh’s mother, a woman you likened to your own family when the one back home was too involved in her own business, when the news broke. She was kind, offered you tea and as always had the little tin of biscuits you loved when you were a child sitting atop the tea tray, and then graciously divulged to you that her son was currently under police custody in Tokyo when the last you’d heard he’d been in Seoul. It would explain the absence of letters, or inability to write. Upon questioning her further you realize that maybe he was in far greater a circumstance than he left you off thinking.

It isn’t a matter of asking your parents to ship you off to a foreign land, it’s a matter of when and how soon you can leave. The money sitting in the dank vault of your late grandmother’s account had laid in wait for some sort of use, and she had wanted you to use it to fulfill some sort of errant dream of yours after her passing. You couldn’t find it within yourself to touch it, seeing it as too prized and too treasured a thing to take away from for some frivolous means. But your grandmother had liked Joshua, the late one on your father’s side and not the vile one from your mother’s. She had treated him kindly whenever he had stopped by, sometimes even saying that she had wished him her grandson more than the monsters that were your cousins. You think that is reason enough to pull from your funds and splurge on a rescue mission to Japan. There were several people you’d known that had been there before, detailing it as a curious place but had neglected to tell you why; you don’t think of the language or cultural barriers separating you until you’re standing on a pier in San Francisco, waiting for your ship to dock.

The brine of the sea had never settled well in your stomach, salty on your lips and your cheeks as the coastal winds torrent towards you. Your ship doesn’t leave for a while yet but the queasiness felt on the decks of other ships returns to the pit of your stomach with a ghostlike vengeance. Perhaps it is anxiousness that riddles you instead of the fear of the sea.

 “Im-a-de-ga-wa Gai-ko-ku-jin Ni-hon-go Ga-kko” words falling from your lips in strange and oblong vowels and consonants that were almost completely incorrect. Joshua had mentioned it in the letter to his mother, detailing that should she not hear from him for another month to contact the school and ask for the aid of a Mr. Jeonghan Yoon, a friend that he’d talked about in passing a few times. Apparently, he is a persuasive sort that would most definitely help him out should the occasion arise. Or so Josh had put it, you aren't really sure what to think of him.

Josh’s mother had insisted that it had been a mix up at customs but a bitter taste in your mouth and gut wrenching feeling in your stomach told you otherwise. He was a rebellious spirit and had probably said a few choice words that had gotten him in trouble, he had said his Japanese wasn’t great but he had learned a handful of colorful phrases from the aforementioned friend in University that could definitely be taken the wrong way by unknowing ears.

If the seas are steady and your luck is good, maybe you can reach him within a month. If not, a week or so longer but you’re not sure if the anticipation of it all would let you, you might jump ship and hope to swim there faster should such a situation arise. Again, impatience being your downfall you can barely stand just watching the large metal steamship land at port and empty its passengers before you were to board.

The air is salty, the gentle spray of foam from the shore landing on your cheeks carefully as you look towards the ship that is to be your dwelling for the next portion of your life. Maybe you shouldn’t have come alone, taken a chaperone or a friend with you, but you were worried, too crunched for time to even entertain the thought as you packed your bags and told your mother you were taking the first train out of town. Your face still stings with the remembrance of the slap she’d given you in her frenzy, calling you something along the lines of a girl too thoughtless to know her role. By no means a heartfelt way to leave her, but your father had said to go, knowing a little more than your mother how much Josh means to you.

Your bags, brown leather and worn from the days when your father was still youthful enough to travel, lay at your feet as the thin paper ticket folds under your grasp. The chatter from the crowds around you mixes in with shouts of vendors and merchants lining the docks over the squalls of seagulls overhead. It’s all too much when your mind is racing with concern, although not too much to deter you from a gentle tapping on your shoulder.

“I think you dropped this?” Deep voice causing you to turn on your heels and face the perpetrator. When you do, you’re greeted with your passport being held out to you and a dimpled smile to go along with a rather dashing face.

“Oh,” Eyebrows raised as you reach out to gingerly take your own booklet from the other, you hadn’t realized its absence since you had thought it stowed away in the depths of your handbag. “Thank you—?” A pause as you wait for an introduction.

“Hansol Choi, or Vernon, whichever is easiest for you,” he nods and then you offer your name before he speaks again. “It was really no problem,” he continues with a smile as he looks down to the bags at your feet, “Did you just get back or are you going somewhere?”

“Well, thank you Mr. Choi.” The innate curiosity of the stranger is mildly perplexing, “I’m off to Tokyo.”

“Tokyo,” his tone faltering as his hand drops down to his side after you begin stowing the passport back away in the small purse slung over your shoulder. “What business is taking you there?”

You pause as you think, it isn’t exactly family troubles or business matters that are taking you across the Pacific, stubbornness, and inability to take your friend for everything he said, more like it. “A friend settled there a little while ago,” a nod after a moment of silence, “it seems that he has gotten himself into a little trouble, so I’m going to make sure everything is alright.” Absentmindedly patting the bag as you can see the other mull it over in his head, “What about you? Are you heading in or out?”

“Out,” The answer is almost immediate, a shift on his feet as he straightens his posture. “I’m heading to Korea; I haven’t seen my family in almost seven years.”

“Seven years?” The most Josh had been gone was the three years he spent studying abroad; you can’t imagine someone gone from your life for that amount of time. “What were you here for?”

“I was staying with a group of missionaries as I went through college,” Hands in his pockets as he turns to the blue horizon overlooking the ocean you are both meant to traverse, “Now that I’ve graduated there’s nothing keeping me here.”

“What will you do when you’re-” you begin to speak when a loud whistle blares from the port your ship had saddled up to. Growing quiet as you begin to hear the general buzz of the people around you grow as they begin to shuffle towards the bridge that linked the port to the steamship. “I guess it’s time,” Reaching to pick up your bags, the leather against your palm somewhat soothing your nerves, “are you boarding too?”

A shake of his head, “My ship doesn’t leave until the afternoon.”

“Ah,” the sound leaving your lips as the thought of, perhaps, having someone to accompany you on your journey was swiftly diminished. “Well,” A small smile gracing your lips, “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Choi.”

“It was nice to meet you too,” his smile returns, “Safe travels.”

“And to you,” You nod as you begin to walk towards the front port, looking down to your hand to make sure that your ticket is still in hand.

[ 1909.05.16. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] “It’s not kūremashita, it's agemashita.” writing on a chalkboard, the dust from the small white stick clinging to the ends of Jeonghan’s jacket as he scrawls out the hiragana. “Unless you’re thankful that Seokmin’s parents give him money?” A smattering of laughter echoing the room as he tries to teach the handful of students how to show appreciativeness and the reporting of it to others. “Try one more time.” Seokmin sits back in his chair and looks at a pink cheeked Seungkwan who leans over his notes in an attempt to reconcile his verbal mistake.

There’s another try from the dark-haired man, it sounds good enough to Seokmin but apparently, the structure of the sentence needs more tweaking, as seen by Jeonghan giving out a small sigh before walking to Seungkwan’s side. Seokmin takes this time to look around the small, confined classroom. It is in no means shabby, but one could tell this building isn’t meant to be a school, Seokmin thinks Jeonghan told him that it had been some sort of distillery prior to the deed falling into his hands.

From ten in the morning, when the sun slants in through the two glass windows of the classroom just enough to see the dust flying through the air, until noon is when Jeonghan teaches the native Korean speakers basic Japanese grammar and vocabulary. It’s only a handful of students; Mingyu, whom Seokmin had met on his first day, Seungkwan, who is somewhat timid but roaringly confident at times, Chan, a kid on some sort of exchange trip who hopes to build up his language skills before his university classes start in the fall, and of course, Seokmin himself. It is an intimate learning experience, perhaps that’s why Seokmin now feels miles more confident in his speaking ability now than he did a month prior. Hell, he could now converse freely, albeit somewhat confined in his topics, to the front desk woman at the hotel he still resides at.

There’s a knock at the classroom door, pulling the attention from the room’s occupants away from their work and now to the dark wooden door that leads out into the small foyer where the next group of students is presumably waiting for their lecture. “The next class doesn’t start until noon,” Jeonghan looks at the clock placed atop his desk, “You’ve got five minutes.”

The door opens with a small creaking noise, shadows from the entranceway spilling in as Seokmin catches a familiar face standing there to greet the class. “I was actually hoping to sit in?” A voice Seokmin hadn’t heard since his university days accompanied the squeak of floorboards underfoot as Jisoo strides into the room. “I think my Japanese is a little rusty.”

A small laugh from Jeonghan as he recognizes his friend, “There’s the jailrat.” Jeonghan returns to the front of the room to stand in front of the taller, no doubt feeling the confused gazes of the students behind him staring past him and to the stranger. “I’m surprised they let you out that early.”

“You know I’m persuasive,” Smile lingering on his lips as his head turns and he catches sight of Seokmin looking at him quizzically. He is still caught up on the word jailrat and the connotation behind it, when had Jisoo been incarcerated?  

“Well,” Jeonghan turns on his heels to address the class, “Why don’t we end early today?”

Mingyu’s already leaned over his desk to get Chan’s attention, Seokmin thinks he hears him say something about grabbing lunch at the nearby market, but his interest is far too deterred to be paying full attention to the younger men. The class packs their bags, Seokmin taking the longest time of all as he tucks away his books into his makeshift bag. In all earnest it was a bag he’d borrowed from the reception at the hotel, he’d neglected to bring or buy a suitable bag for school when he left home and arrived in Japan. The worn canvas of the thing is almost wearing through at the bottom, he slings it over his shoulder and makes his way towards Jisoo and Jeonghan, who look to be in deep conversation.

Jisoo spots Seokmin approaching in his periphery, turning to greet him with a jovial smile. “I see you made it here in one piece?” His eyes looked tired, his face gaunter than the last time he’d seen his elder, but he wasn’t going to question, it was neither the time nor the place.

“Mostly,” Seokmin replies, “Jeonghan’s been a great teacher.”

“Thanks for the ego boost,” Jeonghan’s fingers dance on the lapels of his jacket in mock vanity, only then moving into his jacket pocket for a lighter and his infamous pack of Chūyū cigarettes. He offers one to Jisoo and then to Seokmin, to which they accept, pulling their own lighters out of their pockets and lighting the butts of the sticks.

“God, these are shit,” a grit through Jisoo’s teeth after he pulls in a drag. “They confiscated my Lucky Strike back in Tokyo.” Seokmin’s brow furrows as the other begins to speak again, “Let me know when you’ve got a free night. I’d love to grab dinner and catch up; it’s been a while.”

“I should have time this Saturday?” Seokmin thinks of his schedule, it’s not that he had massive time commitments here, but he was making a point to travel around the city in his free time. “If that works for you, of course.”

“It sounds doable,” A nod as Jisoo moves his hand to tap his cigarette against an ashtray atop Jeonghan’s desk, the wood around the tray stained with the ashes of past smoking ventures. “Are you still staying at that hotel I told you about?”

Seokmin shifts on his feet, “I am, are you staying there too?”

“Jeonghan has offered me residence in his home until he is sick of me,” Jisoo nods to the aforementioned, “I can meet you in the lobby around five then?”

“Sounds good,” Seokmin agrees, looking at the clock hanging on the wall, “I think Seungkwan wanted to go over the homework together so I should go and help him out.” It’s something of an excuse but Seokmin could feel as if there was some sort of pregnant secret looming over the heads of the other two.

“Would you mind sending Junhui and the others in?” Jeonghan asks as Seokmin snubs out his cigarette in the ashtray and makes his way to the door.

Metal knob in hand, Seokmin turns and gives him a brief nod, “Of course.”

There’s something that doesn't sit right with Seokmin. Jisoo had noted that he’d planned on staying in Seoul for a while in the letter he’d sent to Seokmin a few weeks ago. It’s not as if plans can’t change or anything of the sort, yet he’d seemed vehement about it, detailing something about a someone he was going to visit before heading home to America. He isn’t one to question where questions aren’t due. If his friend was to stay in Kyoto for the time being, he’d be nothing more than appreciative of having a familiar face around.

[ 1909.05.18. 今出川ホテル、京都 ] When Seokmin ascends the staircase, hands tucked in his jacket pockets, he can immediately tell that Jisoo sits in one of the large armchairs by the hotel’s unused fireplace in the lobby. Although his face is obscured by the wings, with the way his hand taps in rhythm with the song wafting through the air, the excitedness of the movements are a telling sign that it is his friend. 

A glance to the victrola that lies in the corner of the room, the audio scratchy and soft as it emits a tune that Seokmin does not know. He strides over to the plush chair, glancing down to its occupant before speaking. 

“Good afternoon,” the words escape him and Jisoo turns to him with a jump and widened eyes before he realizes who it is. 

“Dokyeom!” Jisoo smiles from the armchair, rising to his feet to greet the other with a quick embrace, “Long time no see.”

“I’d prefer if you called me my real name,” he nods awkwardly as Jisoo steps back from him, his hand rising to scratch the back of his head, “helps me forget the meaning of that epithet.”

“Still having family issues?” Jisoo’s brow furrows as they break their embrace, “I thought you wrote that you had sorted that mess out?”

“More or less,” another awkward smile, “But enough about me— I thought you were supposed to be in Seoul?”

“Change of plans, there was someone I was meant to meet in Tokyo, but they left during the time I was imprisoned.”

“Jeonghan mentioned something like that when you first came in, what happened?” Jisoo holds out his hand, motioning to the door, as Seokmin questions. The latter begins to walk forward, towards the entrance of the hotel as his friend trails behind him, “Were you really taken into custody?”

“They thought I had ties with Homer Hulbert,” A laugh as the two make their way out the front door, trapezing down the steps and onto the sidewalk, “Which is correct, but they had no grounds to imprison me on the notion that I know him alone or had one of his books in my possession.”

“Hulbert— is he the one that—?” 

“The very same,” Jisoo waves the notion off, “But that is more than contrived at this point, let me know how you are. It sounds like things are the same with your family the last time I saw you.”

“If things were okay then I would have stayed home,” a huff of heated breath leaving him in something of a passive laugh. “My father is still trying to set me up with that girl, the past runs deep, I suppose.”

“I cannot agree with you more,” Jisoo agrees with a nod, “Have you even met her yet?”

“The last time I saw Seungwon was when I was thirteen, even if I saw her now, I cannot say I could point her out in a crowd if you asked me to.” Seokmin's hands find purchase in his pocket, hidden away from the sunlight that falls onto his head and burns the back of his neck as Jisoo and he walk further down the street, through the masses of people.

The older one nods solemnly, almost as if he understands the situation, "I have a friend who's in a similar predicament as you. Although her parents haven't found her a match or approved of anyone she's liked, I'd say her feelings mirror your own."

"Is that right?" Seokmin questions rhetorically as Jisoo digs through his jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes, "Is that the girl who you spoke so much about during our classes together?"

Jisoo sputters, his hands failing to ignite his cigarette at Seokmin's words, the object dangling from his lips, "Did I really talk about her that much?"

"So much so I feel like I know her," Seokmin smiles and shakes his head, a familiar pang hitting his stomach once he looks back to the street before them. "Do you want to grab something to eat? I don't think I've eaten since lunchtime yesterday."

"Too busy studying?"

"Something like that..." In actuality, he'd received yet another telegram, this time from his mother, scolding him for staying away again.

"You always were more studious than me," the other nods and looks to a small restaurant they begin to pass on their left before stopping in his tracks, "What about this place?"

"Soba?" The intensity of the sun once again baring down above him as he looks at the sign on the door, he nods quickly, "Sounds great."

 The pair make their way inside, settling down at a small table in the back corner of the shop as they wait for their food to arrive. Seokmin moves his hand to unbutton a few fastens from the front of his jacket to allow some of the shop's cooler air to hit him. His hands then move to rest atop the table, his long and slender fingers tapping as Jisoo smokes the last of his cigarette, snubbing it out on the ashtray settled at the end of the table. 

"How's your family doing? Is your father's business going well? I saw a few copies when I was in Seoul.” Lackadaisical in question, Seokmin can hear something edging behind his friend’s tone that tinges upon suspicion. 

“It’s going well,” a silent nod as a server comes to their table, the two order quickly, leaving little room for questions before Seokmin asks, “What about your family?”

“Willfully ignorant as ever,” Jisoo frowns, shifting in his seat. It looks as if bitter words reside on his tongue but he swallows them down with a redemption of a smile. 

“About what?” Seokmin pauses as he reaches for the pot of tea the server had brought on her arrival, his hand hovering over the handle. 

“Everything.” Jisoo’s shoulders shrug as Seokmin eventually pours himself and his friend a cup of tea. “Joseon politics, American politics, hell- even the politics of their own inner circle. I refuse to believe they aren’t intelligent; they refuse to accept anything that isn’t affecting them personally.” 

“I see…” He winds off his acknowledgement with the abating of his words, woefully aware that his parents are of the same mindset. His own father being the worst of all of them, claiming that any interaction or deals with unsavory businessmen were for the benefit of the family, not to the detriment. 

“My father’s own brother died in ‘07 and he seemed unfazed by it at all,” Jisoo huffs out, “At the hands of the Imperial Army, and yet he said nothing.” 

Seokmin’s eyes widen, and he raises a finger to his lips as if to tell the older to lower his voice, unknowing if anyone within the shop understands Korean. “Even if he did, there would be nothing your father could have done about it. Not only is he in America, but he also holds no authority in Joseon.” 

“No one wanting to do a damn holds any authority in Joseon anymore, you know better than me what the yangban have gone through, what everyone’s gone through.” Jisoo leans in closer to Seokmin, ceding as he lowers his tone, “It may be easier said than done but I believe we have the ability to change that.” 

“How would-” Seokmin begins but is interrupted when the server comes back with their food, carefully setting each dish atop the table before retreating into the depths of the kitchen. “How could ‘we’ possibly do that?” 

“There are ways, I know there are. I just need time to think of a proper solution,” Jisoo nods as he reaches for his chopsticks, eager to sate his own hunger that had risen during their conversation. “If you’re interested, I’ll tell you more when I have an idea.”

[ 1909.05.27. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] Seokmin’s mind doesn't return to that conversation with Jisoo until a Wednesday afternoon about a week later. The sun begins to sink down in the sky as Jisoo, Mingyu and himself clean off some blackboard tablets in the main room of the school. Jeonghan is busy teaching a class down the hall as Seokmin’s fingers begin to prune from what feels like endless scrubbing with a rag and vinegar ridden water.

“You know,” Jisoo speaks up after an eternity of silence, brushing his hands on his pants after setting down a board onto the floor below. “I think we can really change something here.” His shoes quickly tap on the floor in a sort of anxious apprehension, “Jeonghan and I have been talking and the resistance effort in Joseon seems to be strengthening again.”

“What are you implying?” Seokmin asks, confused at the sudden statement. His brow wet with perspiration, even having the windows cracked open doesn't allow for much wind to travel throughout the building.

“I am saying that we can try and do something to change the… trouble happening back home,” Jisoo shows no anger but a passion resides in his voice that remains hard to mask. “Do something before something more is done to us.”

“That is…” Mingyu begins, looking up to Jisoo from his task of drying off the boards.

“Idealistic?” Seokmin interjects, biting his lower lip before continuing, “Jisoo you do realize if someone hears you talking about that you’ll get thrown in prison again?”

Eyes trailing around the space as if he hadn’t already known they were alone, “Every one of us are sitting ducks. You know that” a point to Mingyu and then a point to Seokmin, “and you know that. Is fighting back against that such a bad thing?”

“How do you propose we do that? Drop everything now, hop on a ship back to Joseon and just roam the countryside looking for this supposed group?” Blood rushes to his ears and it sounds like waves crashing on a beach’s shore. 

“Not at all,” A shake of his head. “There are ways of resisting that do not rely on fighting, think peaceful, diplomatic.”

A nervous laugh escapes Seokmin, it’s involuntary but he can’t help it. “Hong Jisoo, I knew you were insane, but this is another level.”

“I— uh— I’m going to get some chalk refills from the storage room,” Mingyu excuses himself from the conversation, a glance at him as he walks away tells Seokmin that he doesn’t know how to interact with the situation and was looking for an easy escape.

“Seokmin, if you would just listen to me and get that stupid doubt out of your head you might just be able to make some sense of it all.” A sigh from Jisoo as he stands, reaching into his jacket to rummage around for a pack of cigarettes. “Can I bum one off of you?”

Cheek bitten as he grabs his pack out of his pocket and tosses it to the other, “Do you have any idea what they would do to my family if they knew we were having this conversation? Your family and Mingyu’s are across the world and have no worries about what they say or do. The other student’s and mine are not privileged with that.” Cigarette carton tossed back, the sound of a lighter igniting and the smell of smoke pervading through the air as he tucks the pack away into his pocket.

Jisoo thinks, an exhalation of smoke through troubled lungs as his outward breath intermingles with the dust thick in the air. It dissipates without a sound, quietly invading the space as Seokmin is overcome with a sense of trepidation from the other, he picks his words meticulously, trying to string them together as carefully as possible, “This is not just about you or me or my family or yours. It is the fate of a nation on the line, is that so hard to understand?”

It causes the younger man to pause for a moment, his hand falling to his pocket, hovering there before he pulls on the fabric as if he’d meant to straighten the coat all along. His throat clears, thinking of his parents and brother he’d left behind in Suji, what any actions that Jisoo’s ideals cause may entail for them. Even if he was trying to get away from his obligations back home, he’d never want to intentionally put them in any sort of danger. 

Seokmin opens his mouth to speak before catching a bright glimpse of color passing by one of the front windows, followed by the school door opening with a large slam against the wall. Silhouette standing in the setting sun for a moment, not looking at all familiar to Seokmin. An equally confusing circumstance when the words, “Joshua Hong,” spill from your lips.  It’s a confused expression that crosses your face, standing in the front door of the school as the one named leans leisurely back against one of the walls. 

Cigarette in hand, Jisoo turns at the call of his name, nearly falling over in surprise to see you standing there. No, not surprise- bewilderment, shock or some form of abject horror as you take a few long strides to stand in front of him. It’s as if a child’s been caught by his mother and Seokmin is playing witness to it all.

Seokmin watches the scene in a state likened to childlike curiosity, he understands not one word that falls from either of your or Jisoo’s lips, but he can tell you’re angry and him beyond apologetic. Hand movements gesticulating, he catches the words ‘Seoul’ and ‘Tokyo’ at some point as you huff something out under your breath. Voices rising, Seokmin’s surprised Jeonghan hasn’t come out to tell them to be quiet, but if he were in Jeonghan’s shoes he wouldn’t as you sound royally pissed. When you turn on your heels Seokmin looks to Jisoo for some sort of explanation, but his gaze is solely locked on you leaving.

“Shouldn’t you chase after her?” Mingyu asks, the two others not realizing he had returned, box of chalk in hand as the three men watch you storm out into the crowded streets.

“She needs to calm down before I talk to her again or she might really kill me.” Jisoo sighs, bringing the cigarette to his lips before taking in a long drag. A hand runs through his hair as it looks as if all of the blood had drained from his face upon your arrival.

“Is that the friend you mentioned a while ago? You showed us a picture I think.” Seokmin questions, somewhat relieved at your intrusion into their previous conversation.

“It is,” the answer not coming from Jisoo, but from Mingyu. “And by the sound of it she’s ready to pack you into her suitcase and take you on the next ship home.” Head nodding as he looks to the space you once occupied, “You really didn’t tell her you were coming here?”

“You understood that?” Smoke leaving him he turns to the younger, “You didn’t tell me you speak English.”

“It never really came up.” Shoulders shrugging as he sets the box of chalk he’d been fiddling with down onto a nearby chair. “I was raised in Canada for the first eleven years of my life.”

“Son of a bitch, Jeonghan never mentioned that.” Jisoo muses, tossing the cigarette from his hand and smothering it with his shoe. “But yeah, that’s her. I may have neglected to mention that but I was a little held up,” he looks confused as he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way to the door, peering out in the street. “I just don’t know how in the hell she found me.”

“She probably used the wrath of God to do it,” Mingyu suggests, “That’s how my mom says she knows everything I’ve ever done wrong.”

“Wouldn’t put it past her,” A shake of his head as Jisoo turns to Seokmin. “She said she’s staying at the hotel you’re in. Would you mind meeting up with me tomorrow morning in the lobby to talk some sense into her and get her to go back home?”

“I don’t even know her though?” Hands dried on a nearby towel, Seokmin stands and reaches for the bucket of now dirty water. He walks past Jisoo and into the street to dump its contents out, “I don’t even speak that much English.” 

“It’s more of moral support than anything,” Jisoo steps aside to let Seokmin back in, “I wasn’t joking she might actually kill me if she gets the chance.”

“Fine,” Seokmin sighs, walking to pick up his bag from the corner of the room. His hands smell of vinegar and he rubs his still pruned fingertips together as he thinks of what the next morning would hold. “You owe me, though.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jisoo breathes a sigh of relief as Seokmin makes his way to the front door once again, this time with the intent of leaving. “Nine work for you?”

“Nine works for me.” A nod as he walks down the two steps and onto the dirt road below, the indentations from your shoes leading off down the almost empty road. He glances back to Jisoo with a, “See you tomorrow,” and then to Mingyu with a question of “Do we have a quiz on Friday?” before waving it off and beginning his trek back home.

The night descends on Kyoto quietly and without noise, the stores closing long after the sun has fallen behind the western mountains in Arashiyama, lanterns aligning the street as Seokmin shuffles his way to the hotel. It’s quiet, the city typically is at this time of night, he’s learned over the course of his stay in the ancient former capital.

Before he goes inside, he stands outside of the entrance, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as he stares up at the night sky blooming with stars. His bag lays at his feet, more worn now than it had been on the first day of class. Crumpled in his fists, buried away into the depths of his coat lies a letter, the ink that had adorned it far too smudged and water damaged to read now. Seokmin hadn’t meant to ‘accidentally’ drop it into a puddle when it had arrived that morning, so the contents lie unknown. However, on the corner of the envelope, a blurred name, ‘Seungwon’ stays virtually untouched as if to remind him of former obligations. 

It’s as if there’s a clock ticking in his chest, counting down to a day, a time, when he’s meant to take up the holstered responsibility of his family and place it onto his own shoulders. A burden not yet ready to bear, he sighs out into the calm night and makes his way inside of the hotel. 

[ 1909.05.28. 今出川、京都 ] Seokmin wakes to the knocking on his door, his head burrowing into the tangled blankets and pillows from a restless night’s sleep. It takes a moment for him to find himself, writhing around the sheets before pulling himself out of his own stupor. Feet hitting the floor with a dull thud, he drags his lethargic body to the small bathroom, running his hands under the cool water of the faucet before splashing some onto his face to wake himself further. He meets his own gaze in the reflection, tired eyes and the slightest shadow of stubble beginning to darken on his jaw and upper lip. He’d have to visit the barber at some point in the coming days before he becomes totally unkempt.

He dresses himself in casual attire, a white linen button up, the most breathable thing he’d wear today, before he dons the dark blue of his three-piece suit, a light gray and black one still residing in his wardrobe. He notices the threading is nearly worn as he buttons the bottom half of his jacket, the things threatening to fall off should he exert too much force. The soles of his shoes too lie in disarray, wearing thin from endless wandering the streets of Kyoto after his classes have finished. It’s not that he’s searching for anything in particular, maybe a solution to his current situation. But he can’t find that at a merchant’s stall.

The route to the dining hall located on the first floor is a path easily tread, remembered in his first few days of arriving in Kyoto. The carpeted floors give way to a wooden expanse the further he delves into the hotel, the scents of varying breakfast foods calling out to his aching stomach. 

His hands keep busy with the morning paper, perhaps yesterday’s or the day prior to that one. It takes a while for the Korean post to arrive in Kyoto, the postage system seems to take years for important things to arrive, yet the letters from home seem to be weekly. A sigh as he sets down the news, reaching out for the carafe of coffee situated some ways away from where he’s seated. He begins to pour himself a cup, only pausing when he catches something out the corner of his eye. 

A few darkened drips from the coffee pot settle into the white linen of the dining room tablecloth as he spots you stalking towards him. His eyes go wide and his breath hitches when your gaze narrows on him, almost causing him to choke on coffee he’d just brought to his lips.

The way you saunter over to his table reminds him of his mother when she’d be out to scold either him or his brother. Seokmin doesn’t know you but can easily tell that you’re not a force to be reckoned with. 

“Where’s Josh?” You ask, standing before him, arms crossing over your chest as you look down at him expectantly. “You were one of the men with him yesterday, right?”

“What?” Seokmin asks, trying to make some sense of what you were saying. When he was a young boy, his parents had allowed him to take English lessons with a handful of the Christian missionaries that had drifted through Suji, but seeing as he understands nothing of what you just said, it’s obvious he hadn’t retained much, if any, of his vocabulary. “What are you looking for?” He sees no glimmer of understanding in your eyes as your brow furrows, probably trying to decipher what he’d just said. “Jisoo? Are you looking for Jisoo?” It’s the common connection the two of you seem to have, it’s his best bet on trying to figure out what you want. 

You nod at the name, recalling that his mother shouts that at him whenever she’s angry. “Where is he?” If you’d taken up Josh on any of his invitational Korean lessons, you may have had much better luck in this situation. But you’d gone off to learn French because you were enamored with one of your classmates at the time, you could almost hit yourself seeing where it’s gotten you. 

“Whe-” Seokmin pauses, lips pursing together as he thinks of the word. Jisoo was meant to be in the lobby when she came downstairs, but it’s now clear he’s nowhere to be found. 

 “School.” It’s one of the words he can pull from memory. “He’s probably at the school,” he says again and gestures in the general direction of Jeonghan’s academy. 

“The school- The language school?” You’ve said the name of the institute hundreds of times to yourself that you think it’s the only Japanese you know. Not that you fully understand what it means, just knowing that it’s the name of the place. 

Seokmin nods, somewhat surprised that you know the name. 

“Can you take me?” The question falls out quickly and you see he’s confused, so you repeat it again slowly in hopes that he comprehends it. It seems that he does, reaching for his coffee and finishing the cup before rising to his feet, motioning for you to follow him as he heads towards the exit.

The walk to the school is painfully awkward, drenched in a silence that neither of you want to address. Both of you are not confident enough in the other’s mother tongue to make small talk as the two of you begin to walk the streets. 

“Hey!” Seokmin hears Mingyu call out as the schoolhouse nears, “Took you long enough, you’re almost late.” When the younger sees that you’re accompanying him he gives you a small wave, “You’re Jisoo’s friend, right?” 

“I am,” You say after a moment, not having expected to hear English today. But with the company that Josh keeps, you can’t be too surprised at anything now. “Do you know where he is?”

“No, he’s not here yet,” he shakes his head and turns to Seokmin, “Didn’t Jisoo say that you’d meet him at the hotel?”

“He did,” Seokmin’s lips curve into a frown as the three of you make your way into the school. “She’s been interrogating me about him, I think. Although I can barely understand what she’s saying.”

Mingyu laughs at the older and then turns back to you, “My name’s Mingyu.” His demeanor has a lightness to it that descends onto you as something of a godsend. It’s an ease that you’d probably find with Josh if he were here, and you aren't still angry at him. 

“It’s nice to meet you Mingyu,” you offer him a smile before your eyes go wide and you turn to your partner, “I uhm, I never asked him what his name is.”

“Seokmin,” Mingyu answers, another chortle leaving him, and the elder looks confused as to why his name’s just been called out. “What’s your name?”

You respond quickly, glancing over your shoulder to see if Josh is on his way in, to your misfortune, he isn’t. Mingyu quickly introduces you to Seokmin, probably so he has a gist of who you are. It’s hard to tell if Josh’s said anything about you to these men, but it doesn’t look as if he’s said too much.

“We’ve got class soon,” Mingyu’s voice pulls you from your search and you turn back to him, “I’m sure Jeonghan would let you sit in on the class if you wanted to, although I’m not too sure that you’ll understand much, I don’t even get all of it.”

“It’s alright,” you shake your head at him, “I’ll just wait out here for Joh- Jisoo.”

The man in question strolls into the school around thirty minutes later, the local paper tucked under his arm as his brow raises in surprise to see you, “I thought I said I’d meet you at the hotel.”

“I got impatient,” a frown as your gaze flickers over to him. “Jail Josh? Jail?” You fume, storming over to the taller, “Do you have any idea how worried I was, how worried your mother was? God- If you don’t write to her today and tell her that you’re okay, I'm stuffing you in my suitcase and taking you back with me.”

He laughs heartily, despite you glaring him down, “I wrote to her as soon as I got out. I wrote to you too, but it doesn’t seem like you got the message.” A few more chuckles escape him as he holds his arms out, “I missed you.”

You sigh, falling into his embrace, “I missed you too.” After a moment you pull away, stepping back from him, “I’m glad to see that you’re okay, but if you ever do something like this again-”

“I’ve missed your hollow threats,” Josh smiles and glances around the school’s empty halls, “Do you want to get out of here for a while? I know a good cafe nearby, they have a lovely castella.” 

“Don’t you have class?” You question with a tilt of your head, the gentle murmurs from the classroom some ways away drifting out into the hall. “Mingyu said that Seokmin was already late, I wouldn’t want to stop you from your lesson.”

“I’m not a student,” Josh shakes his head, “I’m just… in town for a while and Jeonghan’s putting up with me for a bit.” He flashes you a grin before you have a chance to ask him exactly what he means by that, “Now come on before they run out.”

The two of you walk out into the dense heat of late spring, passing by a group of students as you do so. Josh recognizes some of them whereas you don’t, him saying something to them that elicits a laugh or two before you’re both back on your way to the city center. 

“Why were you arrested?” You can’t stop yourself from asking the question as you turn onto the main road from the alley in which the school is situated. There are only a handful of people perusing the streets, but none look interested in what you’d just said. “It wasn’t serious, right?”

“Of course not,” he reassures you and looks to a few buildings ahead, “We’re almost there.” Josh walks in silence for a moment, his fingers rubbing against his palm as he looks back to you, “I lost my passport, can you believe it?” You recall when you were leaving San Francisco and you had lost your own passport, if it hadn’t been for the man that found it for you, you’re not sure where you’d be.

“Well, actually, I didn’t lose it, it fell between the pages of one of the books that I bought, which reminds me- I have a few for you, I wrote you about them, just remember to tell me to give them to you,” Josh says quickly as you approach the building he’d been eyeing earlier, walking into the opened door confidently and heading to the nearest open table. 

You can tell he’s lying. You’ve only known him since you were children and he’s the closest person to you, you know almost every little quirk about him. And one of the first things you’d learned was that he talks quickly when he’s not being truthful. Yet, you don’t question him on it, seeing as you’d just calmed the tension between you, you don’t want to ignite it for the second time today. So, you just nod and follow him inside.

More oft than not, you hide your feelings behind a veneer of snark, of a bite that seems to sting but never lasts. It’s a sham way to hold yourself together, for if you let the dread of reality seep into your veins any longer than you allow it, you may just become the person you’re trying to hide. A vulnerable being who longs for the company of others but finds errant ways to keep them close instead of just outright saying it. 

Josh offers out a seat to you and you sit, hands folding neatly atop the tabletop as you look to the menu scrawled onto a chalkboard near the cafe’s counter. You’re not sure why you do, the mix of Japanese alphabets is still foreign to you.

“I’ll go grab something, just wait here,” he says, noticing your confusion, still standing before he turns on his heels and strides over to the counter. You turn away before he begins to speak to the barista, looking out of the glass window at the front of the shop, 

“How long were you planning on staying in Japan?” Josh’s voice stirs you some time later, the gentle sound of two cups being placed on the table making you turn in his direction as he sits down across from you. 

“As long as it took me to find you.” You smile at him, reaching out for the small cup, “I guess that means I can pack my bags and leave now.” The smile placated on your lips is joking, but you hold a sincerity in your gaze as if to ask him if that’s what you should do next. He was the entire reason you were here, to find him, to make sure that he was okay and to bring him home if you could. 

Josh’s finger traces the rim of his own coffee cup, gently lifting after a moment to tap along the surface of the tabletop. He hums, low and obstinate, as if to ponder the significance of you being here. 

“I guess you could,” a slow nod of his head, “You know, you were never obligated to chase me half-way across the world to try and get me back home. I’ve been detained before-”

“You have?” eyes widening as you look from your coffee to meet his eyes, “You’ve never mentioned that.”

“I’ve been detained before but,” he continues, gaze hardening at you as you interrupt him, “I really thought I had lost my papers so I sent my mom a letter saying I may need my official documents back home to get me out of the mess I found myself in. This was a little more serious than the others.”

“What happened the other times?”

“Well, in London they stopped me for taking too much tea out of the country, I guess they thought I’d run them dry of it,” a teasing smile twinges on the corners of his lips, “and in Cairo, I tried to sneak off with a few things from Cleopatra’s tomb.”

“You know,” you lean back in your chair, a snide frown on your lips, “lying less might help you out in the future.”

Josh laughs, reaching into his jacket pocket to procure his pack of smokes, it isn’t until he’s got a lit cigarette dangling from his lips that he speaks again, “Where’s the fun in that?”

He suddenly gasps, the smoke he’d been inhaling filtering into his lungs and causing him to sputter for a moment. You reach for and hand him his cup of coffee  so he doesn’t choke on himself. After a moment of hitting his chest and extinguishing his cigarette into the ashtray on the corner of the table, he speaks up, “You didn’t use your grandmother’s money to get you here, did you?”

“Well, technically it isn’t hers anymore,” a guilty exhalation of a chuckle, “but yes, I did.”

“Oh,” He’s crestfallen in the most faux of ways, “You said you’d take me to Italy with that.” It’s a joke, but you can see his concern wavering behind the sincerity of his words. 

Your hand falls to run over the textured brocades of your dress, a wavering smile delicately tugging at the corners of your lips, “I was just worried about you.”

“And I appreciate that, I really do,” brow softening as he reaches for his coffee, voice still a bit hoarse from his earlier choking. “But you don’t need to throw everything you have away for me, I know the trip probably wasn’t cheap.” 

Josh’s not wrong. It had taken quite a large portion from your deceased grandmother’s account to get you here, and the subsequent stay in the country. 

“I had to make sure you were okay,” you shrug your shoulders with a coy smile, reaching out to pick up your teacup and bring it to your lips. It’s then you realize something, setting the cup back down and looking around the shop, eyes wide.

“What is it?” Josh questions, noticing your shift in demeanor. 

“I haven’t ever been abroad before, I thought maybe I’d travel to Paris or London, Milan, even… Never…” A small hum as you turn to look back at him, “Never to Kyoto.”

“I’d have loved for you to see Seoul,” Josh smiles softly, his fingers tapping along the sides of the cup, “It’s beautiful this time of year.”

“You make it sound as if it’s impossible to go,” a tilt of your head. Josh had told you stories from his time studying abroad, of the antics he and his friends would get up to and of the history he’d learned. 

“It would be a little difficult to go back right now,” the smile lingering on his lips looks sad now, almost wistful in a way, “I’m sure we could go in the future if you want to.”  

“I’d love to,” you nod, glancing out of the window once more to watch the passersby walk up and down the crowded street. 

[ 1909.05.30. 今出川、京都 ] Japanese is difficult. You expected it to be, and you never expected yourself to have an aptitude for language seeing as how your conversational French lessons had left you with a minor understanding of the language itself. Most Korean words that Josh had tried to teach you over the course of your friendship had evicted your mind as well, so when Jeonghan asks if you want to sit in on the Korean student’s class as they learn Japanese, you’re not sure why you accept. 

You stay in that class for a few days, struggling to get along as you furiously scribble away into your notebooks. Jeonghan has offered you an English to Japanese dictionary and you copy and try to memorize the words as best you can, albeit the characters you draw are choppy and cause your instructor to spend a few more minutes with you trying to aid you in your quest to master hiragana. 

“Do you think we should have an English only class?” Jeonghan questions you one day after the class has ended, a few minutes remain before his next, so he pulls you aside as the rest of the students filter from the room. “Jisoo failed to tell me that he never taught you any Korean and I can see you struggling more than you have to.”

“If I’m going to be the only student, I cannot see the point,” you smile and shake your head at him, “Doing so would only amplify your workload.” 

“Never mind that,” a wave of his hand, “I can scrounge up a few of the boys who I know are a bit more… multilingual and have them sit in. Actually,” he thinks for a moment, his eyes tracing the cracks in the ceiling before settling on you, “I think it would be rather beneficial for them… So, what do you say?”

You ponder on the thought for a moment, not wanting to seem selfish enough to steal away a few of the men from the other classes for your own personal gain.  

“If they’re okay with it…” Nodding slowly, “Then I don’t see why it should be a problem.”

“Great,” a toothy grin from the teacher, “I’ll see what I can do.”

[ 1909.06.05. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] Kim Mingyu is sitting in the back of the schoolhouse’s main classroom, his nose buried inside Jeonghan’s mandated textbook, when you approach him. 

“I’m sorry to have pulled you from the other class,” you sigh out, taking a seat at the desk in front of him, yet turning in the chair to face him, “You must think me horrible for it.” 

“On the contrary,” Mingyu says after a moment before he sets the book in hand atop the table, a glance downwards shows that he had been hiding a small paperback book behind his study materials. He must’ve been reading that while looking so studious. “Ever since I switched classes I think I’ve actually learned more now that Chan’s not whispering in my ear or Seungkwan isn’t cracking a joke.”

“That’s a relief,” you smile, pausing for a moment as you take a deep breath, “I have a favor to ask of you, if it isn’t too… much.”

“A favor?” Piqued eyebrow as he looks quizzically at you, “Can I inquire what it is you’re asking of me?”

“You know Korean, right?”

“Well, uhm,” the question causes him to falter, “I should think so?”

“Teach me.” Hands finding themselves latched onto the back of the chair you sit in, you lean towards him, voice whispering as if you’re embarrassed, “I never bothered taking Josh up on it and now he’s too busy to help me study. And all I’ve been learning is Japanese except for when the others teach me a word or two.”

“You might want to forget those… most of them were pretty,” his face pinkening as he shifts in his seat, “inappropriate.”

“Oh really?” You feel your own cheeks warm with embarrassment, “I suppose I should’ve realized—”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell them to stop.” Mingyu says quickly to save you from any further mortification, “Are you free this weekend?”

“Are you asking me out?” Knowing the question will fluster the other, as it does, you stifle a laugh. “I am, should we meet here to study?” 

“If that works for you?”

“I’ll see you on Saturday.”

[ 1909.06.12. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] “Have you given any more thought to what I asked?” Jisoo stands in the doorway of Jeonghan’s main classroom, Seokmin scribbling away at something, too concerned with what he’s writing to notice that his door had opened.

With a small jump, he turns in his desk chair to his friend, “About?”

“Trying to organize something here.” With a cautious motion, Jisoo steps into the room. “I’ve been mailing the consulate in Tokyo but haven’t gotten a concrete meeting date set, I’m sure someone of your influence— of your family’s influence could—”

“Jisoo…” A frown settling onto Seokmin’s lips as he tucks the paper he’d been writing into the desk, away from the other’s prying gaze. “My family’s newspaper is scrutinized enough and it’s already considered pro-Japanese, what’ll my family do if they find out their son is working against the very thing keeping them afloat?”

“Where is your sense of justice?” Jisoo returns the grizzled grimace, “Didn’t you flee here to escape that reality for a while?”

“That is— It isn’t just that.”

“I am not trying to force your hand. I know that you’re smart and I know deep down you disagree with everything that’s going on.” A pause, “We’re meeting in Gion on the ninth, in Hanami. You’re welcome to sit in and hear what everyone has to say and make your decision after that.”

“... Okay.”

“You’ll go?”

“I’ll go, but don’t expect me to sign my life away just like that.” A sigh and Jisoo wordlessly leaves the room. Seokmin waits a moment more and pulls out the note sheet he’d been working on, as well as the letter he’d written earlier. He scans the letter once more before he sighs, folding it and tucking it away into an envelope and then into his bag.

‘Jihoon,

Much has happened since I left Suji. I hope things at home are still stagnant. 

The friend I told you of before leaving (the one who acquainted me with Yoon Jeonghan) has arrived under the most peculiar circumstances. I thought him to be in Seoul, but he arrived in Kyoto mid-May unannounced. And the strangest thing is that not even a month later, his friend from America shows up to scold him profusely for a litany of issues. I found her first impression rather intimidating, but I now find it rather endearing the more I try and speak to her.

I suppose I should ask how my family is doing, yet with their barrage of letters I feel as if I never left. The plague of this marriage overwhelms me constantly, I am not the heir to the company, yet my father and mother find it imperative to make a match. 

Enough rambling from my end, I hope your store is receiving the customer base it deserves. Starting any business now is sure to be wrought with turbulence, but I know you can and will persevere.

Seokmin’

[ 1909.06.15. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] “Excuse me,” Heat sweeps through the schoolhouse this afternoon, saturating the air in a humid gale that seeks to suffocate the air from one's own lungs. Seokmin stands before you as you sit in the main lobby of the schoolhouse, the textbook Mingyu has given you in your grasp as you look at him. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask, lowering the book in hand to look up at Seokmin. 

The toe of his shoe scuffs on the wooden floorboards as he rummages around his coat pocket for a moment. His brow furrows, and then lightens before he now moves his hand to search around his bag until he finds his fingertips brushing along a folded piece of paper. 

“For you,” he says, pulling out the parchment and holding it out to you. 

“Me?” A ginger grasp on the paper as you take it into one of your hands, unfurling it to read the contents. “Is this… the alphabet?” Various characters, both Korean and English, litter the page before your eyes in a haphazard, yet somehow meticulous, manner. 

“To help you study,” Seokmin says with a nod, his English vocabulary not proficient enough yet to tell you that he’d seen you studying the language after your class and Mingyu had mentioned in passing you were trying to learn. In no way is he sufficient enough in English to teach you major words but the alphabet… maybe that would be more doable.

“Oh,” your eyes still scan the page, eyes widening in recognition at some of the letters that Mingyu had taught you, before you return to looking up at the man, “Thank you, Seokmin. This will really help a lot.”

His heart flutters at your words, and he can only nod and return your smile before awkwardly rushing past you and towards the class he’s already late for. 

“What was that about?” Seungkwan guffaws as he settles into his seat, “Trying to make friends?” The younger looks back through the doorway of the class to note that you still have the paper in hand, carefully looking over its contents.

“It’s not like he fancies her or anything,” Chan shakes his head, noting Seokmin’s almost coy expression. “Oh my God, you do, don’t you?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Seokmin bites, looking up to the front of the room where Jeonghan’s about to begin his lesson. “She just seems… lonely.”

The lesson drags on quietly after Seokmin’s sunken into his seat, his fingers aching with the sheer amount of notes he’d taken over the course of the hour and a half. When Jeonghan has finished his lesson on preposition making, somehow managing to reprimand Seungkwan in the process, the teacher dismisses his students out into the hall. The handful of men shuffle out into the narrow space, bursting into the lobby like salmon fighting their way upstream.

“Mingyu?” Seokmin thinks he catches his eye as he presses through the throng of Chinese students heading to class.

“Yes?” He locks eyes with him, the two stopping in the hall as the crowd recedes and it is only the two of them remaining.

“You know English, right?” He asks his friend, stepping towards him as to not clog the entirety of the hall.

“Why does everyone keep asking—” Mingyu sounds almost exasperated at the thought, “Yes, I do.”

“Would you mind teaching me? Or at least helping me with mine?”

“I mean, I can try to,” his hand runs through his tousled black locks, “I’m learning that I’m not the best teacher though, so it may take some time for me to get the hang of it.”

“That is fine enough with me,” Seokmin nods with a small smile, “Thank you.”

“Of course…” Mingyu says as the other begins to walk off, “Actually, Seokmin?”

“Hm?” The elder turns on his heels to tilt his head at the other.

“Why do you want to learn English all of a sudden?”

“Oh…” Shaken by the question, a flush of pink over his cheeks as the main object of his want for learning lies only several meters away in the lobby, in other words: you. He shrugs, “I just thought it’d be a good language to get a leg up on.”

[ 1909.06.21. 鴨川、京都 ] “Arthur? Really?” Josh chides as he walks along the sidewalk, his hands busy holding several blankets as he speaks to the man. Behind him and Mingyu, you and Seokmin walk step in step, carrying assorted picnic gear of your own. You notice the way Mingyu’s shoulders shrug in the summer heat as Josh speaks again, “It’s not a bad name, but a little Doyleish,” he turns to glance back at you before looking ahead, “don’t you think?”

“I think it’s a perfectly fine name,” you shrug loftily, your hand raising to your brow to wipe away a few droplets of sweat.

“Defend him because he’s got an author’s name, I see—” Josh scoffs jokingly as he sees Jeonghan waving at the three of you as the river’s bank draws near. “I’m going to go and help him set up.”

“Forever the busybody,” you sigh, looking to the other two accompanying you, “Why did you come to Japan, Mingyu?”

“My dad’s company is thinking about extending its outreach here, he’s in Tokyo trying to negotiate something and I’m here just… Well, I’m really just here,” he laughs, something rattling in the basket he holds.

“Are you going to take over his business?” The inquiry falls from you quickly, not realizing that he comes from a presumably affluent family.

“When I get older, maybe,” he sighs out apathetically, “I want to be a novelist.”

“A novelist?” You perk up at the word, “Who do you like?”

“I really like London.”

“He’s great,” A nod as the three of you walk onward, “You know, if you have anything, I’d love to read it.”

“Really? You’d do that?” His eyes widen as he looks to you, stumbling over an uneven stone as he asks.

“Of course, Josh typically sends me novels from all over the world, but now that he’ll be here for a while I haven’t got anything.”

“I can give you a few pieces tomorrow at the schoolhouse.” A sheepish blush dusts his face, “I’ve started a manuscript but it’s still fairly rough.” 

“That’d be great.” You smile and look at the others in your party, but before you can ask, Mingyu speaks up.

“And what about you, Seokmin?”

“Me?” The elder looks confused, as if he hadn’t been paying attention to the prior conversation. His attention elsewhere along the river before being interrupted. 

“What are you doing once you go back home?”

“My father set up a position for me at his business,” A sour frown on his lips, “I think that’s where I’ll put myself.”

“There’s nothing else you want to do?”

“Of course, there is, but I’ve given up my frivolity for the working mindset,” another frown as he lies to himself. The only reason he’d fled to Tokyo is because of his frivolity and unwillingness to settle down so soon.

“I see…” Mingyu sighs, turning to you, “And what about you?” 

“I suppose I’ll get married, live unhappily with my husband until I’m old and gray, and maybe after he dies, I’ll be able to do what I want,” humming as you’ve already given too much thought about the topic considering there aren’t many options for you. “If I were to have it my way though, I’d die a spinster, a book reading, novel writing spinster.” 

“You write too?” Mingyu interjects.

“Not well,” a bashful smile spreads to your lips, “I’ll let you read some of my works once they’re written.” 

“What did she say?” Seokmin asks, noting your change in demeanor.

“She wants me to read over a few of her things,” Mingyu says, looking from him to you. And then as if a light sparks in his head, he snaps his fingers, “You know. If you’re trying to learn Korean and you’re trying to learn English, I think helping each other out would be better than me trying to teach you.”

“If someone wasn’t chasing after James McAllen or whatever his name was, maybe she’d be a bit more proficient.” Josh guffaws as he saddles back to the three of you, the blankets he’d once been holding now lain on the bank of the river.

“French is still a good language to know,” you murmur, then looking up to Mingyu, and then glancing at Seokmin, “Although, that doesn’t really seem like such a bad idea, does it?”

[ 1909.08.10. 今出川、京都 ] “Is something wrong?” Your question pulls at Seokmin. For the last few minutes, you’d noticed that he hadn’t been working on the letter practice that you’d given to him when the two of you began your joint lesson. Instead, he’d been absentmindedly looking off into space as his hand draws thoughtless circles onto the page before him.

“No,” Seokmin jumps in his seat across from you as his gaze returns from the void where he sought nothing. “I’m alright.”

“Okay,” you nod, returning to penning out the sentences that Seokmin had given you. It only takes a few more lines of script before you get tired, stifling your mouth with a yawn before you turn back to your partner. “What does your father do for a living?” 

“My father?” Seokmin asks, wondering what could’ve spurred this question, “He’s a founding member of the biggest news publication in Korea.”

“News publication?” 

“The Seoul Daily,” he responds, “Although I have to admit I don’t read it often.”

“I see…” You say, not wanting to bore him with the simpleness of your own father’s profession as a clerk. “You know, I find it surprising that Josh’s here. He never likes to sit still. I thought he would be teaching somewhere by now.”

“Is he a teacher?” Seokmin questions, looking up from his work.

“Teacher, tutor, whatever the term is… but yes. He said that’s what took him from Seoul to Tokyo in the first place. And what took him from home.”

“Is he really?” Seokmin cannot recall Jisoo ever professing that his job was that of a tenured teacher, his degree had been in something of business administration if he recalls correctly. 

“Did he not ever tell you?” A prickling of suspicion biting at your lips. During your luncheon with Josh some time ago, the same inkling of distrust in your friend’s word invaded you, you had brushed it off then, forgetting it until now. “He said he was staying at the American ambassador’s home.”

“The American legation shut down some time ago in Seoul,” Seokmin muses, catching the glimpse of shock in your eyes before he moves to speak again, “That isn’t to say that the ambassador has left… To be honest I’m not well versed in Joseon’s political affairs with western nations to know such things.”

“Really…” You hum, pursing your lips as you try to process it. Not wanting to lower the already stagnant atmosphere of the session, you look at the sleeve on Seokmin’s jacket, noticing something peculiar about it. “Seokmin?” 

“Yes?”

“Is that hole in your suit?” You point your finger to the bit where the button should be on the sleeve.

His finger moves to trace the outline of the threadbare hole where his button used to lie, “I suppose it is.”

“If you ever want me to mend that for you, I should be able to.” You offer, failing to mention that your handiwork would be subpar at best.

“I may just take you up on that offer,” he smiles, only then to look back down at his notes, “Now, should we get back to work?”

[ 1909.08.15. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] The light of the candle on your desk flickers ominously behind its pale shade as you reach for the wrapped parcel Mingyu had given you earlier in the day. You’d received it just as he, Josh, Seokmin and a few of the other students were leaving the school that afternoon. They hadn’t asked you to go with them, citing some sort of man’s meeting in which you could only presume a visit to one of the city’s geisha districts again. It was a favorite pastime of one of the men, saying it was much better to talk business in the confines of a private room where one language was known among them all. 

What they mean by that, you’re unsure. This is a school group, not a business venture, right?

You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the thought as your fingers trace along the twine at the top of the large envelope. Unlacing it swiftly, you reach your hand inside to pull out a substantial amount of writing from Mingyu, some in his hand and some seemingly typed on a typewriter. The letters are strong, bold, and in the margins lie a mix of notes in both English and Korean. You try your best to decipher the latter but find it too scrawled to read, you’d practiced reading typed or printed Hangul rather than a messy author’s handwritten scrawl. 

Eyes flickering to the top page, you begin to read over his work,

‘The halls of the Haut have lain in wait for a mildly jolting occurrence for some time now. Ebbed in an inky and sickly black of gloom that settles itself on every person, beast and object that dare enter its halls. Yet for those that traverse its rooms, the darkness is felt more as a way of life than of a looming threat, some finding solace in the flickering lights of the candles that adorn the walls every handful of feet while others have succumbed to the habitual nature of torment that resigns itself to its home.

The spark of candles igniting save them from that horror, for a time. A thought of hope, a taste of the light that has been longed for for eons at this point, as the doors never open and the shutters remain bolted in place. Candles are the only light available to the residents of the Haut, whether that is a welcomed gesture or not. 

As the fires in the candles flicker endlessly throughout the day, I have come to a realization during my stay in the Haut. The light, shadowing across faces; new ones, ones they would see every day and faces they would never see again act as more than just a breath of hope to see the sun again. It acts as a catalyst, until their wick wanes low and it is to be tossed out like the ones before it, returning to an obscurity that prevails over all in the end.’

Mingyu’s thoughts penned down onto the page confuse you more when you read them over again. It is clearly alluding to more than a fictional Haut and the symbolism of candles is more than noticeable. You wonder why, of the fictional pieces that he’s told you of writing, he chose to place this one first. If there even was a reason, or if he had shuffled his papers together haphazardly before he left his apartment that morning. 

You look from the page to the window by your bedside, noting the sun had sunk some time ago, the small clock on your desk reading half-past eight. 

Almost as soon as your eyes settle on the clock, a knock resounds around your room. It causes you to jump and you quickly rush to the door to see if the men have returned. Upon opening the heavy door, you’re met face to face with Josh.

A bitter taste fills your mouth, but you hide it with a smile. The conversation that you had with Seokmin about your mutual friend had revealed a few things that you hadn’t known about your friend, and you’re still struggling to come to terms with the untruths he may have told you over the course of the years.

“I honestly expected you back later,” you say jokingly, noting the flush of red on his cheeks. He must’ve been drinking.

“Decided to call it a night early,” he shrugs. Josh stands there for a moment, as if he’s debating on whether to step into your room or not. It seems as if he opts not to, parting his lips to speak, “Listen… There’s something I want to talk to you about, you and I have known each other for a long, long time and I don’t think I’ve been very honest with my thoughts.”

“Your thoughts?” You give him a puzzled look; you had expected him to speak about something other than that.

“You see,” he starts, “I-”

“Oh,” a voice from outside of your room speaks up, both you and Josh look to see who it is. “If you’re in the middle of a conversation I’ll come back another time-”

“No, no,” Josh says quickly, motioning the other over, “We were only just chatting, Seokmin.”

“Hello Seokmin,” you give him a small smile as he returns the gesture. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I um, I wrote down a few poems for you to try and translate if that is of any interest to you.” The folded paper in Seokmin’s hand crinkles at the margins as he holds it toward you. You hadn’t seen it upon first glance. Through the thin parchment you can see his handwriting that has bled through a bit.

“Thank you,” you say, a small fluttering of butterflies in your chest as you take the paper into your grasp, “This was very kind of you to do.”

“It was no problem, really,” he waves his hand. “Well,” Seokmin says quickly, looking from you to Josh, although his expression shifts slightly when he looks to the elder, “I’ll leave you to your chat.” And with that, he quietly turns on his heels and walks down the hall, towards his room.

“That was cute,” Josh muses once Seokmin’s out of earshot, “Almost like a lovelorn schoolboy.”

“Don’t tease him,” you scoff, gently nudging your friend with your hand. “What was it that you wanted to talk about earlier?”

As if he’s remembered what brought him to your room in the first place, he quickly shakes his head, “Never mind it now, it’s a conversation for another day.”

[ 1909.08.19. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] The wicker wiring of the basket’s handle is rough and almost sharp in your grasp as you lug the thing down the long street in front of you. One of the ladies at the hotel’s reception had offered to help you but you’d kindly refused. Yet with the beads of sweat beginning to form at your hairline, you almost wish you had taken them up on your offer. 

As you burst your way into the lobby of the school, several heads turn in your direction. Seokmin and Seungkwan look up from their hushed conversation and Jeonghan looks perplexed as he looks at what’s in your grasp, but makes no comment on it, only asking, 

“What are you doing here so early?”

“Seokmin Lee,” a sly smile as you hoist the basket up, “Do you have the availability for me to steal you for the day?”

“I…” his eyes travel to those around him, their heads tilting in confusion as they probably think that this is you coming to reign hell upon him just as you’d done to Josh upon your arrival. 

“I think he does,” Mingyu pipes up, realizing through the tone of your voice that there isn’t any ill will to be found. “Go,” he nudges Seokmin, “skipping class for a day won’t hurt you, believe me.”

“Thanks, Mingyu,” you smile as Seokmin walks forward hesitantly. Turning to Seokmin you smile, “I hope you’ve worn walking shoes; we’ll be going on a small trek.” 

The two of you take a trolly south, and then another one even more south to the edge of the city’s limits. Seokmin had offered to take the basket from your grasp as he noticed you shifting your weight with it as you stood in the interior of the crowded car. 

“I thought I might treat you to lunch,” You say as the car comes to an abrupt stop, jostling the passengers before you disembark, him following closely behind you, “if that’s alright?”

“Well, if I’m already here—” Seokmin accepts without outright saying it. “Where are we going?”

“That’s a secret,” you smirk, continuing to walk down the street.

It takes a moment, but you soon recognize several poignant features of the landscape that the hotel’s reception had pointed out to you. The town dwindles away, opening into a swath of open greenery and hills that roll on, seemingly forever. A few homes dot the landscape, you assume them to be the living spaces of the families that farm the land.

A rocky, dirt path leads you and him through a thicket of brush before coming out into a large field, yellow flowers saturating the landscape.

Noticing the way that your gaze seems to linger on the flowers as the two of you approach, Seokmin asks, “Do you like sunflowers?” Fingers dancing up one of the large stems beside him once the two of you near the field enough, his digits flitting up towards the petals bursting towards the blue of the afternoon. 

“They remind me of home,” wistful thoughts as you turn towards him, attention turning from the blossom in your gaze. “My mother grows them in her garden.” You set the picnic basket on the ground, reaching to pick up a fallen flower before you look back to him.

Eyes locking together, his own breath catches in his throat as he realizes how close you are, how the sunlight cascades onto you in a serene beam, not unlike a spotlight from a stage production. A cough and he looks to your grasp, to the yellow petals and browned florets in the center. Seokmin doesn’t know this now, but he’ll come to associate you and these flowers together in a harboring memory locked in the library of his mind when some time comes to pass. 

“Every summer the flower peddlers would come into town with their bushels of blossoms,” the memory can be recalled almost as if it were happening right in front of him. “My mother loves blue bells, my father and my brother both like carnations.”

“And you?”

“Sunflowers,” a nod as his hand retracts from the stem of the plant and into his pocket.  “I like sunflowers.”

“You must be happy that we came here, then,” a smile flaring onto your lips, “I bet everyone else at the school is jealous I stole you away for a while.”

“Jisoo more than any of them,” head shaking in disagreement, “he dotes on you, you know.”

“Dotes and guards are two very different things, Seokmin,” the smile falters a bit as you think of your friend. He had been acting strange lately, almost as if he were a caged animal with no escape. Was it because you had followed him here? 

“As he is not here I see no reason to fuss over him,” you shake your head, dropping the flower to the ground gently and turn to the assortment of snacks you’d brought. You open the basket, settling yourself down onto the ground near the stalks, and motion Seokmin over.

You reach inside to procure two glasses laying empty before you as well as grabbing a dark green bottle from its depths. “I had the lovely ladies from the front desk put this together for us last night.” Another rummage through the basket has you revealing a wine opener, the screw end eventually finding itself plunged into the cork in the bottle’s neck. 

“Thank you,” you say once you’ve poured Seokmin and yourself a generous glass of wine each. While you’d fiddled with the cork, Seokmin set out to lay out the small bites you’d brought along.

“For what?” A piqued eyebrow as he reaches for his glass, slight confusion shadowing his face. 

“Talking to me. I know Josh and Mingyu do as well, but I feel like everyone else ignores me.” 

Never mind the reason being that they’d heard of how you’d tracked Josh down and were worried that should they get on your bad side they’d suffer a similar fate— Seokmin found their fear rather funny but would make a note to try and tell them to open up, it isn’t as if you’re a monster. 

“Even if things are lost in translation— it’s nice.” Glass raised to your lips, giving the deep red a small sip before setting it back down. 

“I’ll tell them to talk to you more, and that you’re not that mean,” he chuckles and takes a drink from his own glass, the spirit flowing rather smoothly down his throat. It doesn’t stop him from making a face, though. 

“Are you implying that I can be?” A joking question as you peer over to him.

“Jisoo’s told me a select few stories,” Seokmin smiles, “but don’t worry, I’ll keep them private.”

“Promise?” You laugh out, only imagining what your friend had uttered. For a moment you catch Seokmin looking at you, a softness in his gaze and the smile on his lips seeming nothing less than genuine. It makes you pause for a moment as he opens his mouth to speak. 

“Promise.”

The two of you sit and talk in the midafternoon light until the sun slowly starts to sink beyond the horizon. Not wanting to be caught in the countryside at dark with no source of light, you and Seokmin make your way back to the southern edge of Kyoto. Another trolly ride and a brisk walk, the two of you find yourself back inside of your shared hotel.

“Mr. Lee?” The receptionist calls out just before the two of you pass the desk. By now far too familiar with the myriad of Jeonghan’s students who filter within the walls of the hotel, many of the staff seem comfortable enough to call out to them whenever a parcel, letter, or telegram arrives. “A letter arrived for you this afternoon.”

“If it’s from Suji I want nothing of it until tomorrow morning,” Seokmin sighs before waving off the offer of the envelope.

“It’s from a Mr. Lee Jihoon,” she reads over the address, “It seems to be from Seoul?”

“Ah,” you note a glimmer in Seokmin’s eyes and a slight smile overcoming him as he retracts his steps and moves to quickly take the letter with a ‘Thank you’ before heading up the staircase, you following closely behind.

“Who’s Lee Jihoon?” You ask as he ascends the steps, the sound of the envelope being torn open quickly ripping through the air.

“A friend,” Seokmin muses as he reads his friend’s words, chuckling at a witticism or two strewn among the mass of text greeting him. “He writes of home, of my family and….” He pauses before he allows himself to speak further, stealing himself away so as to not embarrass himself.

“And…?”

“Of you.”

“Of me?”

“Ah, yes, uhm,” he scrambles for words, his cheeks flushing as he recalls having mentioned you in his letter a month prior. Had he known his feelings would have coalesced into something more than an intrigued observation and into a budding courtship, he may as well have left your presence from the letter to deter Jihoon’s prying ways. “I mentioned your arrival and he’s inquired on whether you’ve turned out to be kindly or not.”

“Well?” You question, brow raised as the two of you stop walking in front of his room, the basket in your hand reminding you that you’d forgotten to return it upon your arrival back to the hotel. “Have I?”

“If your actions today don’t speak volumes to your generosity, then I should call myself a fool for saying you’ve been anything less than kind hearted— more so than anyone else I’ve met here… To me, at least.” His small smile once again prods at the corner of his lips, “I won’t speak on Jisoo’s behalf.”

“Thank you, Seokmin,” another smile creeps onto your lips as you look down the hall, “I suppose I should be getting to sleep—Jeonghan’s homework won’t finish itself.” Before you’re able to turn back towards him, you feel Seokmin’s hand gently pull you closer and then the soft feel of his lips against yours.

You had kissed a boy once before, but it had been at one of your family’s Christmas parties when you were a little over the age of sixteen. Josh and a few of his friends had smuggled some of their own spirits into the festivities, so while you danced and sang the night away, you were barely able to establish the stupor you were in until the next morning where it had formed into a splitting headache. 

Yet before the night had ended, you found yourself under the large oak in your family’s front yard, kissing one of Josh’s friends that eventually flittered aimlessly into the night, never to call on you again. 

That kiss had been sloppy, a drunken miasma of endearing regret that culminated from one glass of madeira too many. This kiss though holds words and emotion far too under the surface of both of your skins to be relinquished properly. Of unsaid promises and a look for direction in a darkened tunnel. 

It stays brief, his lips on yours lasting a few seconds, burning as they pull from you and his eyes widen. 

“I’m sorry,” his hands fly to the hem of his coat, messing with the fabric as he searches for words, a flush of red coating his cheeks, “something came over me I just—”

And you kiss him this time, wordlessly as your empty hand places atop one of his fidgeting ones. He leans into you, the fear of angering you subsiding as more spontaneous feelings begin to manifest deep within his chest. 

The two of you part, not gasping for air but feeling a significant lack of oxygen in your lungs. Seokmin stares at you for a moment, something forming in the glimmering of his eyes in the dimly lit glow of the hallway’s lamp. 

“I—” lips parted before you interject. 

“I should be going,” quickly speaking as you hoisted up the wicker basket in your grip. “I should return this before the ladies yell at me… See you tomorrow?” 

Seokmin nods too eagerly to look remotely collected, “See you tomorrow.” 

[ 1909.10.26. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] The leaves had just turned color the prior week, the sickly smell of their sweet decay wafts into the classroom’s open window as the sun shines directly onto Seokmin and his desk. If he weren’t in class, the man might have found himself basking and napping in the midday glow.

His mind remains anywhere but Jeonghan’s teachings at the moment. The courtship between you and he had only remained steadfast in the weeks following a short confession the day after he’d kissed you. Both you and he are meant to go to dinner this evening at a place Mingyu had recommended, although with the younger’s cruder palate, both you and Seokmin want to venture there on morbid curiosity alone.

Seokmin’s daydreaming of the evening to come ends when the sound of heavy footsteps begins to echo throughout the building. Having attended the school, as well as gotten to know its attendants, for a while now, Seokmin can tell it’s Seungkwan who’s just barged into the building.

“Itō’s been shot,” Seungkwan pants as he races into the classroom, “the paper just announced it.”

The younger looks absolutely pallid, sweat on his brow as his heavy breaths remain the only sound emanating from the group of students and lone professor.

“Shot?” The name stings Seokmin’s ears as he straightens in his seat. “Where?”

“Manchuria,” the paper procured from the bag in Seungkwan’s hands, extending out to the group so that anyone may take it. 

Jeonghan reaches it first, scanning the headlines, “Itō Hirobumi, a prince of Japan, but the greatest commoner in the empire, who was assassinated by a Korean today, had stood for two years between Korea and the degradation of immediate annexation, hoping to build up that country anew. He was shot down as he alighted from a special train at Harbin, Manchuria, whither he went from Tokyo in his capacity as president of the privy council on a mission of peace.”

Gaze lifting from the print, he looks to the class, the paper falling down atop the nearest desk as others move to read it, “This is… troubling.” 

Seokmin rises from his seat and walks to Jeonghan, scanning the rest of the article with bated breath, knowing that the ramifications of this were to be far more than just troubling. His stomach drops, knowing full well that this could mean a swift return home depending on how the Japanese government reacts to this, and even more worrisome- how the general public around them would treat his fellow countrymen residing in Japan.

[ 1909.10.29  今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] “Can I speak with you for a moment?” Josh looms over your desk where you’ve sprawled out your notes for the day. Ink stains riddling your fingertips as you close the textbook and look up to him, his hands buried in his jacket pockets. 

“Of course,” you nod, standing from the small wooden table. Your hands brush the front of your skirts, smoothing the disturbed fabric before you watch him begin to walk off. Quickly, your footsteps trail after him, down the hall of the school, through the lobby and out of the front door. 

You pass Seokmin and Mingyu on the way out, offering them both a curt wave before the cool winds of autumn greets you on the streets of Imadegawa. 

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

Josh stays silent, his back turned to you as a cart ambles down the road. His shoulders shrug as if he carries Atlas’ burden before he turns to you and speaks, “The thought of you getting hurt if you stay around here for too long worries me greatly.”

“What do you mean by ‘hurt’, Josh?” A bubbling of strife in your tone as you ask, further culminating as you continue to speak. “Are you going to get hurt if or when I leave?” An angered step towards him, “I know you lied about having a tutoring job, why are you here?”

“I never meant-” He frowns, mutters ‘shit’ under his breath as he breaks his gaze away from you. Hand tousling the already disturbed locks, dredging down his face as he gently pulls at the skin with his fingertips before relinquishing his hold on his own face. “Who told you?” The question sounds accusatory as he fails to answer your own questions, “Was it Seokmin?”

“Even if it was, why do you care?”

“Because the longer you stay here you become more enraptured by everything you know nothing about. I see you fawn over him -- have been seeing it for the last few weeks now,” Josh shakes his head.

“And what of it? Am I not allowed minor courting?”

“The longer you throw yourself at him the more you will come to regret it when the time comes to part. You should be home, safe. Here you are neither of those.”

“Do you really think I am staying here for that reason alone? Just for him?” You nearly roll your eyes at him, “I went to Tokyo to find you! I followed you to Kyoto, I traveled across half of the world for you!” 

“And you fell into the arms of the first man who showed interest in you! You never think rationally and look where you are!” His voice raises, not to an octave to draw attention, but enough to make you want to raise your own as well.

“I can say the same for you!” You huff, stomping off for a few feet, only to take a deep breath and turn to him.

“If you cannot believe that I have paused on the possibility of me leaving I would call you insane,” the incredulity drips from your words as venom does from the hollowed teeth of a snake. “There is absolutely nothing here for me in the grand scheme of it all, I know that. And yet there is nothing for me at home except for the anticipation of a life that I do not want without you in it.” Breaths heaving from your chest as you try and compose yourself to the best of my ability, “You’re my best friend, Josh, but don’t think that I can’t make my own rational decisions without your input.”

“You two are more similar than I could have ever imagined,” His eyes rise to the clouded sky as if he’s having a conversation within himself. After a moment he sighs, exhaling all the air in his lungs before he shakes his head and looks at you.

“I was never planning on going back to Seoul,” he frowns, “I really did have a job in Germany, not in Seoul, though. I received news that a friend fell ill. I decided to visit should he not recover from the illness. He passed on the first of May and asked me to visit a friend in Tokyo for him prior to his death.”

“Why you, though?” 

“There wasn’t anyone that he knew in Seoul that would be allowed in Japan because of their acquaintance with him.”

“Who was this friend?”

“Ernest Bethel, I met him while I was with Daniel Lim in London.” Josh shakes his head, “He began a publication that called out the atrocities of the Japanese soldiers in Korea. They put him on trial for it and barred him and anyone that worked under him from entry into Japan.”

“Josh…” You begin but he cuts your words in two.

“With the climate now… With the growing disdain for foreign nationals after Itō’s assassination, I cannot guarantee your safety here,” the look in his eyes reminds you of an abandoned pup, lost and almost hopeless, “And that scares me more than anything.”

[ 1909.11.16. 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] The days since your conversation with Josh had been nothing short of meandering, lessons, studying and then more lessons. Time with Seokmin had been almost always interjected with another student hoping to make conversation or with the looming presence of your aforementioned friend somewhere beyond. Although you remain unsure if Josh had spoken to Seokmin about his malcontent with your new budding relationship, you can almost ascertain something has been divulged unto him as his more public displays of affection have become intermittent throughout the days progressing. 

And you cannot find it within yourself to press him on it. Jeonghan had assigned him a presentation project that he was to give in a handful of days and Seokmin had spent most of if not all of his free time in the little library of dictionaries and manuals that lay scattered about in the back of the classroom. Ink stuck to Seokmin’s fingers most evenings, and oftentimes most mornings as he seems rather unable to clean the stains himself. 

As your thoughts linger on this, you look to the sedentary streets outside, the inside of the schoolhouse dim with the waning light of worn lamps and lanterns scattered around. A few passerbys occasionally look into the building, most just move on without a second thought.

Quiet resounds around the building, only the gentle scratching of your pencil atop your paper. The interior is quieter than usual on this Tuesday evening– many of the boys had gone out, drinking, no doubt. But you cannot be too angry at them, apparently Jeonghan, in his chase of school authority, had given them a rather difficult test last week and had announced the results earlier this evening. Judging by the demeanor of those who left the classroom, this is a much needed getaway. So, after a chaste, secret kiss on the cheek, Seokmin was swept off by the other students, leaving you sitting alone to complete your work in silence. 

The seconds, minutes and hours tick away as you scribble and oft daydream into the ever becoming night. Then, you hear voices, feet scrambling and foreign words you only begin to comprehend as the doors to the school burst open and a plethora of bodies pour inside. 

“What happened?” The confusion sweeping into the room, overwhelming as an amalgamation of movement and shouting in several languages begins to overwhelm you. It’s then you begin to count heads; Seokmin, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Chan… 

“Where’s Josh?” Amid the chaos you look at Mingyu, dread in his face paling as the seconds pass. “Mingyu,” you ask, voice growing softer as a sickening dread begins to clamp around your abdomen, “where is he?”

“He was injured.” A voice to your right. Seokmin stands in the gentle twilight of the school’s entranceway, dusk falling behind him as he moves to shut the door. “Jeonghan has taken him to his friend’s home to get him treatment.”

Mingyu begins to call out to you, to deter you from what Seokmin’s just relayed. But you still feel that clutching dread begging you to ask for more information. 

“Injured? Is he okay? Can I go and see him?” Voice now fraught with panic, you begin to question everything. “What happened?” Even if you and Josh had been at odds earlier, he is still a dear friend to you. 

A glance downward and you see Seokmin’s hands, stained not with the ink you recall from earlier but red with what you presume to be the blood of your friend. Another glance around the room and you see some of their shirts and pants have oblong streaks of drying cruor adorning them, almost as if they’d been carrying the injured party. 

“I think it would probably be best that we fill you in tomorrow,” Mingyu says with a frown, his own hands shoving into his pockets as if to hide any evidence of what had occurred, “all of us are… trying to understand what happened.” 

“Hey, Mingyu,” Seungkwan says something offhandedly to him, but you’re too hyper focused to try and translate. 

“Really?” Mingyu says to his friend and sighs out, shaking his head, a few beads of sweat that had been clinging onto the ends of his soaked locks fall onto the floor. He returns his gaze to you, a grimace set on his lips before speaking, “The group is going to go back out, we can walk you to your hotel if you need us to.”

But you do not feel like walking, you’re not sure that you can with the weight surmounting in your legs as the joints are locked into place. You let yourself have a strangled gulp before trying to compose yourself, “I will wait here for you all to come back.”’

“Are you sure?” Mingyu says hesitantly, “There’s a good chance that we may not be back until morning.”

“I don’t think I could leave if I tried,” you offer a weakened attempt at a smile. Hands clenching to try and stop the undeniable tremble coursing through you, the nauseating dread making you want to curl up and cry. 

“I’ll stay back with her,” Seokmin speaks up from beside you, his voice soft among the chatter that’s occurring elsewhere in the hall. 

Mingyu doesn’t speak, only looks from you to Seokmin before nodding his head in acquiescence. He calls the others over to tell them of their next plan, each resounding off a stuttered goodbye before leaving the school and treading back out into the now darkened streets. 

You stand staring at the doorway for a while, you’re not sure for how long as time feels both encased in ice and unbelievably fast at the current moment. It’s only when Seokmin moves to close the door once more are you pulled from staring out into nothingness and onto something real. 

His hands, bloodied and crude, remain at his sides as he removes them from the door’s handle and looks to you. There’s a glimmer of what looks like weariness in his eyes as he glances down to his palms, perhaps now only realizing to the extent they were stained. 

“Let me get you some soap and water,” you tell him, quickly leaving him standing alone as you whisk yourself off to the small bathroom in the back corner of the building. 

You grab the lye soap that sits atop the porcelain basin of the sink, only then to grab a bucket sitting next to it typically used for mopping. The contents dumped into the basin, you refill it to the best of your ability with the lukewarm water from the groaning pipes. 

Returning to the lobby of the school, you find Seokmin sitting at one of the tables lying at the entrance. He’s watching the world pass by as he sits, his eyes lost as he distracts himself with anything but his present. 

“Let me see your hands,” you say, setting the bucket down on the table top, as well as setting down the towel you’d slung over your shoulder. 

Seokmin jumps before he turns to you, startled by your presence as he probably hadn’t heard you come back. 

“There are bigger things to worry about other than my hands,” he begins to protest, only to have you shake your head at him and motion for him to extend his hands to you. And he does reluctantly, still sitting as you take his hand into yours. “Thank you…” his voice is quiet as you take the towel in your free hand and dip it into the water, only then to do a precursory scrub of his palm and fingers before lathering the soap onto it. 

“...Can you tell me what happened?” You ask, dipping the towel back into the water, noticing the liquid turning a tinge pink as you do so. Stomach twisting, you can tell Seokmin’s reluctant to answer by the way the digits on his hand twitch. 

He coughs to clear his throat, “We were in Gion meeting with one of Jisoo’s acquaintances. The name escapes me, Donggeun, I think— But things turned sour quickly, some man started yelling at us after he heard us speak and then Jeonghan tried to calm him down. He was speaking so quickly that I couldn’t understand what he was saying.”  Seokmin recounts the event to you, but it’s still hard to get the gist of what had happened. “I know he said something about Itō’s death, but that wasn’t our fault,” tongue swiping over his bottom lip as you switch to his other hand, “even if it should have been. He got so riled up he called over a pair of policemen, we thought after talking to them they would let us go, but as we were leaving there were two shots that rang out. One hit the pavement beside us and the other hit Jisoo in the leg.”

Your grip on Seokmin’s hand tightens at his last statement, he winces and pulls away, settling his hand atop the coarse towel and beginning to brush off the suds and water that remain stuck onto his hand. For the most part, the gore and viscera that stained both his skin and nails had muted into a softer pink, splotchy, but for the most part gone. He heaves out a breath, unable to look at you as he composes his thoughts,

“I don’t think it was the officers who fired, though. Jisoo said that it was as we were carrying him off but when I looked back the officers had the man who was yelling at us pinned on the ground.” It’s hard to say why Seokmin’s relaying this piece of information, almost as if he’s doubting himself. “We took Jisoo to one of Jeonghan’s friend’s houses, you should probably be able to see him late tomorrow or the next day depending on how things go.” 

Hands fumbling around with the rag in your hands, you nod and drop it into the bucket with a soft plop. “Thank you for telling me.” After a moment you move to grab both sides of the bucket, returning to the sink in the small bathroom and dumping the bloodied contents down the drain before placing it on the ground. 

You meet your reflection in the grimy mirror atop the basin, the dim light overhead casting strange and oblong shadows on your face as you notice how downcast you look. Eyes with dark circles, hair unkempt, more so than the typically casual look you adorn yourself with. 

A tear, hot and scorching, rolls down your cheek, a mass of guilt engraving its way on the hallows of your face before it drops into the sick. 

“Are you… okay?”

Maybe you’d been in here longer than you thought, Seokmin’s voice calling out after a gentle knock on the bathroom door. The light above flickers from the rumble of an incoming train somewhere in the distance, your hand falls to grip the basin of the sink, porcelain cool against your skin as you brace yourself to speak.

A cough into your hand, a look from your bleary eyes into your bleary visage in the mirror at Seokmin’s words. 

“I’m alright,” you say to yourself more than Seokmin, turning to open the door. You meet him, face to face in the dark hallway of the school and absolutely crumple. “I’m alright,” this time you say it while falling into him, face pressing against his shoulder as the wells of tears brimming stain into the gray of his coat. 

His hands find yours after a moment, gently pulling you towards the lobby of the school, the quiet sounds of your footsteps ringing around the hall. You find seating on the staircase leading to the second floor, Seokmin quietly sitting next to you, letting you weep all you need to. 

Soon you find that your tears run dry, leaving hot and sticky trails down the sides of your face as Seokmin continues to provide quiet comfort, one of his hands still entwined with yours. 

Head on his shoulder, your eyes trail to the dimly lit street outside, not a single person caring or knowing the strife you’re riddled with. It’s hard to ascertain whether you’re unbelievably angry or unbelievably upset, but your breaths lay heavy in your chest laden with that uncertain feeling. 

“I think I’d like to go back to the hotel,” the statement cold as it leaves you, anything but the comfort of which you desire set into every syllable. 

The walk back is forgotten in the haze of the events that transpired earlier in the evening, glowing lanterns buzzing with an electricity seen only to you and dimmed in the darkness encompassing your very being. 

Your lips don’t speak another word until you’re standing in front of your door at the hotel, Seokmin standing beside you in silent solidarity. Fingers grasping for the small key in your bag, hesitating before you slide the gilded thing into the lock. Turning to Seokmin you softly ask, “Can I stay with you tonight?”

The statement that would typically leave him flustered and pink takes on the air of a silent plea tonight. Anguish in your eyes and voice that you lay in front of him, vulnerable and nearly at your wit’s end. 

“Of course,” it’s nothing short of a quick response, his hand sliding into yours as he waits for you to take the first few steps towards his chamber. 

As you enter his room, you find that the only garment you discard is your jacket and shoes, flung atop the sofa and scattered on the floor before you fall into Seokmin’s bed. The scent of him fills your senses, only more so when he comes to kneel by the bedside so he can speak to you. 

“I’ll sleep on the settee, try and get some sleep so we can visit Jisoo tomorrow.”

“Seokmin, I can nearly see your breath from here,” you reach out, taking his chilled hand into yours, gently pulling him towards the bed, “sleep in your own bed.”

“I should think a lady deserves a proper–”

“We can sleep on it together,” a pause as heat rises to the flesh on your cheeks, “Separately, of course. I just need the proximity of someone comforting.”

“You honor me,” Seokmin's smile curls at the edge of his lips, “I’ll go change in the bathroom, please make yourself feel comfortable.” 

For a moment more, Seokmin pauses, looking at you before you relinquish him from your grasp. He makes a slow approach towards the bathroom before heading inside, the door locking with a small click, leaving you alone with the empty space of the main interior. 

[ 1909.11.19. 今出川ホテル、京都 ] The space of your dreams is nothing but a black, endless void that only aids in helping grow the gnawing anxiousness that pervades you even during sleep. It isn’t until the unfamiliar feeling of a hand ghosting your side pulls you from slumber. For a moment your heart races, your own hand reaching to grasp as the one hovering over you now—

“Sorry if this is too-” A sigh escapes you as Seokmin’s whisper grounds you in quiet reality. “You seemed troubled.” 

“Don’t apologize,” your voice rough from sleep, the ghost of your fingers atop the smooth surface of his hand, gently pressing the pads of your fingertips to him as a quiet gesture. You don’t turn to him from your side, instead looking towards the thick blue velveteen curtains that obscure any notion of light from the outside in front of you. “It’s alright, I promise. Are you alright?” 

From behind you can feel the bed shift with a short, unfunny laugh from his chest, “I don’t know. I suppose I am but tonight… I think it’s shaken everyone.”

“Do you think Josh will be okay?” A murmur from your lips as you gently pull Seokmin’s hand closer to your chest in want of comfort. 

Another shift, and you can tell he’s gingerly moving himself towards you, “He has to be.”

The call of the darkening void begins to etch its way around your vision. How can you sleep at a time like this? You should be racing over there now to see him. But that would make it real, the peril, why Josh had been anxious about you staying those handful of weeks back… 

With a squeeze, you relinquish Seokmin’s hand from your grasp and he returns it to its original position on your side, “I don’t know if I made the right decision coming here,” voice lost into the darkness of the room, in the breathing by the being beside you, you think to be asleep. 

“I don’t know if I did either,” a sleepy response from Seokmin, voice riddled with a tired concern ringing in its whisper. “But I don’t regret it,” his hand laid across your waist ever so slightly grasping at you as if to show his unspoken thoughts.

[ 1909.11.18. 滑川康男の住居、京都 ] The areas of Kyoto you had previously traversed seemed to be marketed towards a more foreign influence, you’ve come to surmise. Now as you walk anxiously with your hands threaded together through rows and rows of wooden-sided homes with thatched or tiled roofs, you’ve begun to see past the veneer of opulence that sought to bring in the traveling and wanderlustful for what the average citizen sees on a day-to-day basis. It is no more humble than the homes of Boston, in a way it reminds you almost nostalgically of what and who you left behind across the ocean and near an entire continent. A cat lazing on a nearby stoop gives you pause for a moment before you continue, lengthening your strides as you return to your party. 

“When Josh’s better he’ll need to return to Minnie.” You say rather assuredly, willing it to be, as Seokmin and you trail behind Jeonghan.

“Is that his… Friend?” With the way Seokmin emphasizes the last word you cannot help but let out a stifled chortle.

“She’s a cat,” you answer him quickly and he nods in understanding. “Did you have any pets growing up?”

Seokmin looks ahead at the road in front of him, the bustling streets hindering your path for a moment, the crowds coming in and out like the tides along the river. “We had a dog to guard the house, he might still be there but he was old and gray when I left. Not really a pet, though.”

“I see…” 

“We’ll be there soon,” Jeonghan calls from up ahead, “It’s just around this block.”

With those words you subconsciously find your legs moving even faster towards your friend.

The house that you arrived at was much like the other ones lining the streets. You’re welcomed in quietly by the host, their name eluding you as your vision tunneled to where they said your friend lay in quiet rest. 

“He should be awake,” Jeonghan says quietly, “Go and speak with him, we’ll be out here if you need anything.”

Down the hall, first room on the left. That’s where you find Josh looking outside, one of the sliding doors open to look towards the inner garden of the home, facing away from the sliding door you'd entered from. He lays in a futon, a stack of fresh bandages on the tatami next to him. With the way his breath rises and falls, you're unsure if he’s asleep or not.

“Josh?” You ask gingerly, stepping into the room. “Are you awake?”

When you hear him mutter out something you take a few strides toward him. His injured right leg remains covered by a blanket, held up by what you assumed to be a propped up pillow. There are beads of sweat pooled on his forehead as he turns slowly to meet your gaze.

His name leaves your mouth in a whisper as you fall to his side, knees thudding atop the tatami as you inch yourself closer. “How are you?” You wince at the question, fully knowing it wasn’t the best one to be asked.

“I’ve…” The words are slow to come, hoarse from a throat rung raw from pain, no doubt. “I’ve been better. Would you mind fetching my water? I’m not very amble at the moment.”

“Of course,” You say quickly, looking to the nightstand where a singular glass and water filled bucket lay. You notice your hands trembling slightly as you hand him the glass and help move it towards his lips. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, I just had to see if you…” 

“I understand,” he says, you notice his face is pale. Too pale for comfort.

“You’re absolutely feverish,” the back of your hand pressing gently against his forehead. Your free hand reaches to one of the rags already submerged in the basin of water atop the nightstand. “Were you injured anywhere else?”

“My pride remains intact, my morale slightly asunder but I’m sure it will recover in time,” he flashes you a weak smile. “I never like making you worry, even if it seems that’s all I make you do.”

“Do you remember when you were twelve and you had scarlet fever?”

“I remember being absolutely miserable,” Josh murmurs out, wiping the beads of water away from his eyes with the fabric of his shirt.

“Your mother sought out any doctor she could find to try and help you, and the plethora of holy men too. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a rabbi and an Episcopal priest in the same room as each other before,” you snort, recalling how frantic his mother had been. It had been scary, but he had made it.

The frown on his face encapsulates him for a moment and his eyes close, his head hitting the wall behind him gently, “You said that you loved me.”

It feels as if your heart has dropped into your stomach. You remember kneeling by his bed, whispering prayers to any and all gods that would help him recover from that illness. His pinkend and rashed flesh on display as the doctors said exposing the areas of effect would cause it to weaken the strain of disease, maybe. Under heavy sedation of laudanum and whatever other mystery tincture, it had stripped him of happiness and prayer was the only thing you offer, it wasn’t as if you were a physician or miracle man. Also, hadn’t he been asleep when you confessed that at his bedside?

Freezing before you’re able to dip the rag in the bucket again, “That was years ago, Josh. I do love you but not…”

It’s him that stifles a laugh, “I know. But it is still endearing that you’ve stayed by my side, I really do appreciate it.”

“You ass,” a gentle nudge, “You must truly be ill if you’re complimenting me for my duty as your best friend.”

“You’re probably right,” he replies breathily. His hand reaches out, and you take it instinctively. His grip is weak but reassuring. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You sit there in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the rustle of the barren branches tapping against one another and the occasional chirp of birds. The tranquility of the scene contrasts sharply with the turmoil you feel inside. Josh has always been the strong one, the one to pull you out of your own dark times. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and dependent, shakes you to your core.

“You should rest,” you say softly, breaking the silence. “You need your strength. Did you want me to close the doors? It’s getting rather cold in here.”

He shakes his head, but you can see something stirring within. Words lay heavy on Josh’s tongue, you can see him formulating his thoughts before he speaks abruptly. “I’m going to Tokyo,” Josh sighs after a moment, sounding resolute. “After this,” his hand waves to his blanketed leg, “is healed.”

Now it is your turn to frown, “Tokyo? Whatever for?”

“It’s come to my understanding that my friends haven’t been making any headway for our cause,” Josh sighs out and you have the feeling he’s intentionally being vague.

“Why not ask the American government for help?” Even if he chooses to don the masque of ambiguity, you can still infer what he means.

“America and Japan have been formulating plans together for some years now, exercising their rights with one another. That’s how America gained control of the Philippines and Japan got control of Korea, the Pescadores, Taiwan and parts of Manchuria,” Josh relents after a moment. With the way his eyes widen briefly you can tell he’s already opened the door slightly for what his intentions may be., “I have hope and reason to believe that I can be more impactful if I reach the Korean consulate in Tokyo. I fear America will not be of any aid.” 

You take a deep breath, your hands still trembling slightly. “I understand your passion, Josh. I truly do. But promise me you won’t make any hasty decisions. Rest, heal properly. Then we can talk about how best to proceed.”

He nods, though you can tell he’s only partially conceding to your point. “I’ll rest. But I can’t promise to delay for too long.”

His stubbornness is both frustrating and admirable, and you feel a surge of protectiveness over your friend. “That’s all I can ask for now. Just... don’t push yourself too hard.”

Josh gives you a faint smile. “I’ll try not to, for your sake.”

You return to the main room, Jeonghan, Seokmin, and Jeonghan’s friend sitting around and not speaking. 

Seokmin stands as you enter, his hands twisting together as he notices the dour look on your face, “How is he?”

“As stubborn as ever,” you sigh out, “But I think he’ll be okay, I cannot be certain about the usage of his leg though–?” Eyes trail to Jeonghan and his friend, the latter of whom stands to address you.

“Apologies for not introducing myself, my name is Otomonoi Hiromu. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances but the doctor that was here earlier this morning said your friend would recover, albeit the mobility of his leg may be altered. The bullet failed to hit any major artery but shattered the bone of his femur…” 

Your stomach rolls and you nod your head slowly, “How long will his recovery take?”

“With the application of the Thomas splint anywhere from three to six months,” Jeonghan interjects, “We’re planning on having him moved to my residence within the next day. I fear we’ve encroached on Hiromu’s kindness too much already.”

“It’s truly no issue Jeonghan,” Hiromu nods and looks back to you, “Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” You say curtly and glance to Seokmin, “Did you wish to speak to him?”

“I think Josh needs his rest,” Seokmin says softly, and as if your apprehension is palpable suggests, “Would you like to take a walk with me?”

“Oh? Okay,” you murmur and take the arm Seokmin offers you. 

“We’ll meet you back at the school tomorrow evening if you wish,” Seokmin states to Jeonghan. “I cannot imagine that classes will be held today or tomorrow?”

“No, they won’t be.” Jeonghan nods, “I’ll send out letters informing the students of our reopening sometime later this week or next. Until tomorrow then.”

“Until then,” Seokmin then leads you outside, past the gate of the home and back to the busy streets. The two of you walk in silence, the churning in your stomach not lessening, despite your far proximity to the house in which Josh lay. “How are you feeling?” His voice breaks through to your thoughts after another few moments of walking.

“I did not see his leg,” you murmur, “but with the blood and panic of everyone yesterday I can surmount that it is no simple injury…”

“That isn’t what I asked,” Seokmin says softly, “I can only imagine the horrors you have felt in the last twenty-four hours.”

“No more than you, I suspect. I was not there when it happened.” You wince as you speak, unable to conjure the imagery of the attack in your mind. “I know Josh will get better, know that he is alive. That alone is enough to make me okay for now, at least.”

[ 1909.12.31 今出川外国人日本語学校、京都 ] Josh’s leg never healed fully. While he can apply pressure, a tearing pain sometimes courses the length of it, so, rather to be safe than sorry, he’s become acclimated to walking with a wooden crutch to catch himself should he ever find himself unstable. Aided by the arm of another, Josh slowly makes his way down the streets of Kyoto.

“I could have made it on my own, you know.” Josh’s voice escapes him in a plume of white, the breath intermingling with a few flakes of snow dancing towards the icy and muddied street below. A thin line of perspiration begins to form along his brow, but as it hits the frigid air it makes his body seem almost colder. “My speed has been reduced but I do not need such constant attending to.”

“She asked me to escort you,” Seokmin says, releasing Jisoo from his grasp, “I could do nothing but oblige.” 

Jisoo lets out a short, dry laugh at that, “She has a way of ordering us around.” 

The two of them walk still, their cheeks becoming more and more reddened with the wind that whips at them, slashing through the air at no measurable pace. There are few others on the road at this hour, the streetlamps glow in the nighttime, leading them further into the heart of the city. It isn’t until they come upon the familiar building which houses Jeonghan’s school that a liveliness begins to pervade the wintry night. Music drifts from the building, as does the sound of chatter and laughter.

“Is that…  A piano?” Seokmin asks, both he and Jisoo know there were no instruments to be found in that building prior.

“A phonograph, perhaps.” Jisoo murmurs as they stop outside, noticing a figure loitering around the front. A plume of smoke rises from the turned figure, Jisoo lets out a sigh and calls out to them, “If your mother knew you were smoking, she’d have your head Mingyu.”

“Shit-” The younger jumps as he’d not heard the two approach. “She only wrote a scathing letter once about my allowance usage and that’s all you can remember of her.” Mingyu turns to the pair, “I’m happy you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Jisoo flashes him a small smile. “I think it’s a bit too cold out here for me, so I’ll see you inside?”

“Of course,” Mingyu nods, “And be careful– I think Jeonghan was a bit… heavy handed with his pours tonight.”

It isn’t long until the two of them make their way into the now cramped space, soon finding themselves with a respective rum punch in hand. Jisoo notes the faces that pass, most looking to the crutch at his side, and it leaves a sour taste on his tongue. Despite the people, he doesn’t find you among the faces that shift by him, and by the way Seokmin scans the crowd next to him, he cannot find you either. 

Eventually Jisoo and Seokmin find you at the keys of an upright piano. An upright piano that had not been there the week prior, which had been the last time Jisoo had visited the school. A cordial glass in hand, your free one seeks to play a small accompaniment to a piece that Seungkwan plays while seated next to you on the bench.

“I never knew you knew how to play!” Seungkwan says loudly, lifting his hands from the keys and reaching for his own glass atop the piano. 

“My mother made me take absolutely tear-inducing lessons when I was younger,” you laugh, taking a sip from your drink. You recoil a bit from the flavor, “Although I must admit it has come to my aid at parties, even though there is much to be desired.”

“I was unaware you played as well,” Seokmin notes as Jisoo and he approach the bench, “You play wonderfully.”

“It was Seungkwan doing all of the work,” you admit, “And Josh can attest to my skill, as poorly as it is.”

“I’ll adamantly deny your assessment, you played a lovely set at my mother’s birthday several years ago,” He gives you a warm smile. “So much so that she begs me every year to urge you to play again for her.”

“Well, if I am back in time to play for her next year, you can consider me booked.”

“Then I must write to her to let her know of it,” He says and you turn your attention back to the piano. Jisoo’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he sinks into the crowd, looking for Jeonghan. It isn’t long until he finds his friend mingling with a few of the Chinese students in one of the classrooms. 

“Would you all mind if I stole him away for a while?” Jisoo asks the group, while nodding his head towards Jeonghan. “Business, I’m afraid.”

Within a few moments the students have cleared the room, only leaving the two of them together. Josh sighs, setting his glass down onto one of the tables, and leaning against it slightly.

“Where in the world did you acquire a piano?”

“Do you like it?” Jeonghan smiles, “Hiromu’s sister was moving houses and had to do away with it… Too gauche or something of the like.” He hums and takes a sip of his drink, an old fashioned by the look of it. “Now, what is it you want to talk about? I know you cannot have asked to clear the room over a piano.”

“Am I that easy to read?” Jisoo laughs, glancing to the hall to make sure no one was listening. “It is my intention to go to Tokyo within the upcoming week or so. I hope to have your discretion on the matter.”

“Who is it that you wouldn’t want to– Ah.” Jeonghan begins to ask, “You’ve already run off on her once, are you so eager to do it once again?”

“It isn’t as if I wouldn’t come back to her, I never intend to hurt her as I did before.” The taller sighs out, reaching for his drink. He takes a hearty swig, “She is my oldest friend and confidant of all things unrelated to the reasons that brought me here. I had only hoped to keep these two spheres of myself from ever colliding. But she is a whirlwind I can never account for.”

“And what is to stop her from following after you once more?” Jeonghan prods, “She is a whirlwind, after all.”

“Seokmin.” Jisoo says simply.

“He’s staying here?”

“No,” Jisoo shakes his head, “He’s coming with me. With both he and I’s assurance she will have to accept that we will return. She adores him too much to allow him to put himself in harm’s way.”

“What a gamble, thinking that she’ll do just that.” Jeonghan muses, knowing fully how well you seem to take heed from either of the two men. “As a friend I will not say anything to make her feel untoward towards your departure. But you cannot be angry with me if she chooses to go after you.”

“How could I?” Josh says with a small, thankful smile. “Now, I was also hoping to get a few contacts from you, although I suppose that can wait until after this little soiree. Apologies for taking you away from it.”

“It’s not an issue,” a wave of the thought away. “Now have fun, be merry. Mingle before everyone begins falling over themselves.”

And fall over themselves they do. The hours seem to pass in minutes with games, stories and revelers in abundance. Jisoo finds himself flitting from group to group, with Mingyu and you speaking of prospective stories, to Seungkwan, Chan and Junhui arguing about some type of grammatical dissimilarity in Japanese compared to Korean and Chinese. He passes Seokmin at some point, who seems to be chatting with one of Jeonghan’s invited friends about the news industry. The party goes on late into the night, and it seems by the quarter hour another person has to step outside to regain their composure from the drunken stupors they find themselves in.

At one point, as the clock nears towards the end of the night and into the new year, Josh escapes from the bustle and sits on the stairs that lead to the second story of the building. He settles down, a third drink of the night placed on the stair next to him and his wooden crutch leaning against the wall.

A sigh escapes him and he tilts his head backwards, several joints popping in his neck. His eyes close and for a moment he listens to the chatter floating by him, of merriment and not the sinister dread that invades him most hours of the day. In another life he may have been able to enjoy tonight, but that path died early on in his life, especially since his first visit to Korea nearly fifteen years ago. A pang shoots up his leg as he shifts, reminding him more of the peril that he puts himself into. And another pang begins in his stomach, clenching and festering as he is reminded of the danger he has put you into. 

Jisoo laments not writing to you before he left Korea, perhaps that would have diminished his fears. He laments telling his mother a portion of the truth of his detainment in Tokyo. He should have known word would get to you and that only God himself would be able to stop you from reaching him. He laments for keeping his thoughts to himself when he should have been more honest with you. There are many things he regrets, the ire of which is now before him as he hears movement coming from the hall of classrooms. With stiffened movement, he straightens and looks over to see you leading Seokmin out of one of the busy classrooms, your hands intertwined with his. 

He thinks of saying something, to announce his presence, but before he can he sees your face near Seokmin’s. You plant a soft kiss on his cheek as you whisper “Happy New Year”. Seokmin’s hand breaks free from your interlocking fingers as he goes to caress your cheek, it lowers and he guides you to meet his lips in a kiss that Jisoo would not describe as chaste.

Jisoo looks away from the two of you, suddenly now very interested in looking at a poster of the hiragana alphabet hanging on a nearby wall. The two of them leave for the party after a few more words that are too whispered for Jisoo to hear, and he himself decides that he should return as well. After more mingling among the students and friends, he excuses himself, but not before asking Seokmin to join him for a cigarette.

“Okay,” Seokmin cedes as he bids you a short farewell, promising to be back soon. He follows Jisoo out to the school entrance, the few flakes that had been falling from the sky becoming nothing more than a flake every moment or so now. “It looks as if the weather has taken a good turn.”

“If only it will stay that way,” Jisoo says, reaching for the case of cigarettes and matchbook in his coat. “Would you mind striking this for me? I’m afraid I am still hindered.” 

“Of course,” Seokmin says, taking the matchbook and swiftly igniting one of the matches. He holds the flame to Jisoo’s dangling cigarette, making sure it’s ignited before dropping it to the snow below. 

“Thanks.” Jisoo takes a moment, letting the smoke mingle with the cold in his mouth before exhaling deeply. “Have you been enjoying your night?”

“It’s been quite a lovely party.” Seokmin nods, “Have you had any issues maneuvering around?”

“No, not at all.” Jisoo responds before taking another drag of his cigarette. “I was wondering if you had told her about our plans to leave in the coming weeks, or if I should be the one to break the news to her–?”

A look of almost panic takes over Seokmin’s face momentarily, Jisoo can’t tell the full extent as the streetlamps light only but so much. His brow furrows as he looks on to the younger, “Am I to take that as you haven’t mentioned it?”

“No– No, I have mentioned it to her.” 

“Then why do you look at me if I am a parent about to scold you?”

“I invited her to join us,” Seokmin says quickly as Jisoo lets the cigarette fall from his mouth to the snow below, “And I know you made note of not asking her to but with her aid I truly feel that–!”

Before Seokmin can finish speaking, Jisoo finds himself grappling the younger to the ground, the pain tearing through his leg be damned. “You fool–! It was expressly my intention not to bring her, are you deaf or so lost in your way you defy reason? Do you love her?” Both a question and a realization wrapped in a sentence too pained he hadn’t wanted it to spew from his lips. “Is that why you’re doing this?”

“Of course I love her.” Answered as if the question had been as simple as ‘Is the sky blue?’ Seokmin shoves Jisoo, so the two are now parted, sitting on the muddy ground. “But not like a disillusioned oaf. Think, for a moment, of the circumstance and not of her beguile that you too, seem to fall asunder to.”

The wetness of the earth begins clinging to Jisoo’s trousers, seeping up from the ground below. “In what way would she aid us? You’ve just about solidified her acquaintance with us and if we were ever to be found out…”

“Do you not think that she is aware of that?”

“No, Seokmin, I do not!” Jisoo shakily rises to his feet, reaching for the crutch he’d discarded in his fury. “I have had many friends die because they thought to speak their minds. Would you bear that responsibility for someone whom we both deeply care for? Her blood would be on your hand–” 

It’s Seokmin who acts out not, sending a fist flying that collides with Jisoo’s cheek. The older falters, but is otherwise unmoved from the display of rage from his friend. His hand raises to the site of the newfound injury, and he tenderly touches it.

“I will take your anger as drunkenness. But you know the truth as much as I do.” Jisoo says solemnly, “I cannot make her stay, but you have put everything at risk by bringing her. It would be in our best interest to send her home.”

Seokmin’s breathing remains heavy as he nurses the hand he’d used to assail Jisoo, “You know she would never let us.”

“Then we do not allow her a choice.” Jisoo frowns, his hands reaching back into his coat for another cigarette, “I will play the villain but you must not fill her head with promises of a bright future. Everything grows more uncertain by the day and I wish for her to be as far away from this politicking and scheming as she can.”