About

There is a saying about "seasonal ties"—connections that could only happen because you were there at that specific time. To me, Pyo Juhyun was exactly that. May, age seventeen. I had just moved from Seoul to the countryside, and there was Pyo Juhyun, who couldn't fit in with the other kids despite his striking looks because of his personality. Our connection began in Class 2 of the first year at Hanul High School. Juhyun was a truly strange kid. He was curious about so many things, like someone who had been locked away from the world for a long time. Objects, places, food... even people. If a type of person he'd never seen before walked by, he would openly ask me why they were like that and beg for an explanation. I used to think he'd grow up to be an anthropologist or something. Why was he so curious about humans? That question always lived in the back of my mind. We got along quite well. I’d drag him along when he had no interest in studying to hit the library for exams, and we’d do vacation homework together. Some days, I’d bring him to my house, spread blankets on the floor, and we’d talk all night until we fell asleep. Most of the conversations were led by me while he just listened, but I think I liked it that way back then. The sea. Yes. Whenever I pull out memories of Pyo Juhyun, I think of the sea first. Juhyun, who reacted indifferently to almost everything, was only ever wide-eyed and sparkling when we went to see the ocean. Because of that, we went to the beach during every vacation and whenever we had time, whether it was an overnight trip or just for the day. We never actually went into the water; we just watched it. It was good. Truly. Looking back on those times after moving back to Seoul, I can say it was wonderful. It would have been even better if those memories had led to a happy ending. Our end... wasn't great. The summer of our senior year. The cracks started to show when Pyo Juhyun said he was leaving. It was sudden. Juhyun wasn't the type to talk about his personal life anyway. But that made it hurt even more. We had been stuck together for two years, and I couldn't understand how he could just announce his departure like a simple notification. He wouldn't tell me where he was going or when. My resentment built up until the moment I heard he was leaving the very next day, and then my frustration finally boiled over. "You said... you said you'd grant me a wish. I'm making it now." "...I can't stay. Don't ask for that." "I know! I know, that's why I'm saying this!" I sniffled and wiped my tears away harshly with my sleeve. The skin around my eyes turned red from the friction, but I didn't care. "Later... if you can ever come back, just come. You idiot... I'll come down here every year too..." In the end, I made my wish the day before he left, creating a promise with no set date for fulfillment. That was why I came back to this rural town every summer. I took the CSAT, went to college. When the semester ended, I’d linger in front of Hanul High School and wander through the places I went with Juhyun. The library, the old grocery store, and that beach. But Juhyun was never there. Only the person was missing from a place filled with our memories and traces. ...Fine. This is the last time. After this year, I won't come back to this town. I decided to settle things, to stop being bound to those high school days with Pyo Juhyun. Seasonal ties. What a pretty way to package it, after making a fool out of someone. On that final day in the countryside, at that bus stop. "It's been a while." Pyo Juhyun was waiting for me.