“Exactly… doesn’t that make you more curious? About the movie this person filmed at this school. That spot over there is exactly where one of the scenes from that movie was shot. The unceasing line forming over there seems to be a testament to this person’s fame, right?”
…The movie Jun created capturing my image.
Although I hadn’t seen it yet, Jun often suddenly pointed his camera at me. Therefore, the film must have contained my unfiltered appearance.
Jun had said he would send me the finished product once editing was completed. I had even written down my email address before returning to Korea. But I could only guess that, tired of waiting for my contact which never came, the note might have been crumpled in Jun’s large hands and discarded.
The fact that so many people had already seen a movie featuring me, which I had yet to watch, left me feeling a bit disappointed, hurt, bitter, and lonely.
“Huh? Sister. This person is also an expert on first loves. The movie he won awards for. Look at this interview. Listen closely, Haru sister.
‘The film , which earned him the prestigious Hosino Film Award for Best Screenplay in Japan, breaks away from the conventional thinking that connects first love with words like freshness, excitement, and youth. Instead, it likens first love to a train destined from the start, magnifying the feelings of loneliness, emptiness, and agony that are proportional to the sweetness of the beginning. The film received praise not only from experts in the film industry but also from the general public.’
Wow, Haru sister. Since you also failed in your first love, you should watch this movie. I bet you can relate a lot.”
Unaware of the nuances, Hyeonsu suggested I find solace in Jun’s film that delves into the pain of parting brought by first love, even attaching the word ‘failure’ to it.
However, I felt a pang in my heart knowing that Jun, who would have been more suited to depicting the purity of first love, chose to highlight its darker aspects and emotions.
The thought that I might bear some responsibility for such a choice by him weighed heavily on me.
Eventually, the weight of an inexplicable guilt pressed down heavily on me.
“I don’t feel like studying Japanese without Jun.”
On the table lay an unfinished Japanese book and a pencil that had been roaming over it. I had been absently flipping through the book since a while ago, leaning on my hand. Naturally, the book remained open to the first page, smooth and untouched.
When Jun was around, it was routine for me to complain about him disturbing my studies. But now, without him at school, I lost interest after solving just one or two problems.
Then, I thought of Jun. He would get absurdly jealous whenever I opened a book.
‘You should spend more time looking at my face than reading that book. I really don’t get it.’
‘……I don’t get what you’re saying even more.’
Although he found it bothersome to explain, occasionally, he would offer help.
‘Eharu, stop looking at that book. I’ll teach you instead. What’s the problem?’
‘……From the beginning.’
‘You can read this letter, right?’
‘……No?’
‘……Well, at least you came all the way here and met me. That’s enough.’
‘What does that mean all of a sudden?’
‘It means your language study abroad wasn’t totally in vain.’
‘Are you mocking me for not being able to speak Japanese?’
‘That too.’
‘Hey, Kim Jun.’
The smile that had unknowingly surfaced on my face quickly sank again as soon as I realized Jun’s absence.
This house seems to expand like stretching out its arms and legs when Jun is not here. Was this living room always this spacious? I lay on the tatami floor of the living room, stretching out my arms and legs.
Today, perhaps because of the overcast sky, not a single ray of sunlight enters, even with the sliding doors of the veranda pushed all the way open. I wish I could push away the clouds with my hands, but they’re out of reach.
In the dimly lit living room, where sunlight fails to reach, I thought of Jun.
I wish he would come home soon. I miss him.
Lying there, it felt like a considerable amount of time had passed. I didn’t get up right away but rolled around a bit, then decided to turn on the TV for some listening practice.
Flipping through channels, my hand stopped at a particular scene. It was a drama with high school students in uniforms, the only thing that caught my eye.
Not that I could suddenly understand their conversation today, even though I was showing more interest than usual.
Still, it’s surprising how much people can express with just facial expressions and gestures. Sitting intently in front of the screen, I began to grasp the main plot of the drama.
So, that high school boy is secretly in love with a girl in his class. Ah, the girl likes him too? Then why are they just circling around each other like that? Oh, it’s only obvious from my perspective; they don’t know each other’s feelings. How frustrating. I deduced the content while watching.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
