comes and goes
@rmkou
five years old is the first time, in the swimming pool of their two-story home on the outskirts of los angeles. yeseul isn’t around to shove him in head first and get away with it, so the then-boy is under the firm, patient guide of his father’s hands instead. finding the bottom of the pool is easy, sitting and staying still somehow easier, arms tucked over his knees, breath held. sunlight ripples from above. he blinks in blue through his goggles. then slowly, slowly he lifts himself from the floor, feet paddling, limbs stretch, stretch, stretching until his mouth breaks water, then air.
all it takes is a single pointer finger to the map. it’s an open invitation of a gesture, complete with the questioning glance he throws at kou. here?
a day later, they are, in fact, here. naksan beach spreads itself out smooth across the northern coastline, sand near cream-soft sinking beneath his feet as dazzling blue waves pull in their back-forth motion, low tide in a high noon. a lone trail of footprints are left untouched by the sea foam. there’s no smell of chlorine that lingers, that’s for sure. a welcome change from the slick tiles that they’re tasked to clean, the shrill call of gulls, incheon port bustle behind them by the distance of mountains.
yejun swings his bag idly as they walk, drinking in the view. meditative. the gravel in his voice loosens from his throat. “you’re welcome to say thanks, by the way.”
in his dreams, he’s always sitting on the branchiest evergreen with an aerial view of the beach and he can spy the bright red lighthouse at the end of the walkway. the sun is bright and the water clear, no one to disturb him as he steps carefully on the stones scattered along the shoreline to reach the very top of the highest boulder. kou has a very particular, narrow set of skills. it’s easy to tell that he lacks in book smarts, vaguely knows how to use a phone, has a slight idea on what the internet might be, but at least he can hold his breath for twenty minutes, catch a fish in under five, and he knows how to take care of his whole village so everything works out for the best.
included in his lacking skills is reading maps, which is why he has yejun (among other things).
he’s is already halfway towards the water, barely in earshot when yejun is sounding out the last syllable in thanks. his sandals are lost already (perhaps his third pair this, slipped off and sinking into the white sand because who really needs shoes anyway. he carries almost nothing with him most of the time, just a small white linen pouch filled with a few crystals - varying based on his mood for the day.
today, there’s a pair of blue singing quartz, aquamarine, jade, bloodstone, and rainforest jasper and earlier, he had tucked a few star rubies in Yejun’s pockets.
