One of the Extremes
Big Bang, SHINee or 2PM?
South Korea stood back, giving a long, calculating look at the three shirts splayed across his bed.
Big Bang, SHINee or 2PM?
He shuffled back to his closet, rummaging through his piles of shirts and jeans before pulling out a wacky, neon coloured shirt that Hong Kong had given him of 2NE1. Nah, he stuffed it back with a shake of his head. It was a bit too wild for today. Maybe if he wore a simple shirt, no prints whatsoever, over his white jeans… or would it be too simple? But, the prints could probably offend him or something- wait a second, breathing was an offence nowadays…
Korea bit his lip and looked back at the three shirts that innocently lay on his duvet.
He pulled out his drawer and tugged out his navy turtle neck.
He'd go simple.
He had a bad feeling, this stinging in his heart, that his brother was fuming- raging- on the other side of their 'wall'. If anything, he didn't want to get him angry today as well of all days. So, lying low was probably the best idea he had come up with.
He took off his glasses, carefully placing them in their case, and slid in his contact lenses before digging his feet into his Lacoste loafers. Pocketing his phone and slinging his beats around his neck, he slipped out of his house, locking it securely behind him.
He forced a bright smile on his face- even though his cheeks felt heavy, his heart pumped with dread and his eyes stung like needles- and left the building, checking the time for the next bus stop.
His head vibrated against the cool window of the bus as 2NE1, one of his favourite k-pop bands, screamed into his ears. He involuntarily mouthed the words, used to the lyrics and used to the rhythm, making his eyes deaf to his surroundings. Trees and buildings and cafes and students rolled by… and he stayed sitting, watching them with his glassy, lost gaze as his destination grew closer and closer.
He thought he'd be elated. He thought his nerves would fly. He thought he'd go wild with anticipation.
But he felt null.
The bus stopped and he jumped, giving a small wave to the driver, before he dug his hands into his pockets and gazed up at the governmental building. His boss would take him to the zone- or the DMZ as it was popularly called- and he'd meet him there.
His brother.
His twin.
His other half.
The half that tried to hurt him.
The half that tried to kill him again and again and again.
He closed his eyes- clenched them shut- and forced a smile on his face. Even though his cheeks felt heavy, his heart pumped with dread and his eyes stung like needles, he beamed. He had to. He was South Korea. He was Seoul. He was happiness. Advancement. Technology. K-pop. K-drama. He was…
He bit his lip.
He was…
The car stopped, the doors unlocked and the grassy planes ahead seemed so dull under the bright sun. Soldiers were stationed, giving him a firm salute as he passed though he was sure they had no idea who he was- or maybe they were saluting his boss instead?- and tourists flocked by their flags, chattering in awe and pointing at the distance.
He knew this place.
He knew this place very well.
All the tunnels he had dug, all the mines under his skin, all the bloodshed, all the battles cried all the screams raging all the fires blazing…
He knew this place.
His boss left him and he continued off to a small group of seniors, all of them wrinkled and bent and wasted, their handkerchiefs tightly held in their trembling fingers and their expressions… heartbreaking. They were all smiling, all so excited and all so happy.
At last! They all seemed to say. At last!
He could hear snippets of their words, their voices deteriorated from time.
"Who are you here to see, son?"
An old, wrinkled hand gripped the sleeve of his shirt and he bent down to meet the ancient orbs of a small, old lady. She was cloaked so heavily that he was quite sure she had the seasons mixed up, but her smile was so joyous- so elated- that he felt something inside him soften.
"Your grandfather?"
She tilted her head, as if his answer was in his eyes. Korea faltered for a second, his mind quickly whizzing like the software codes on his video games.
He shook his head, "my brother."
That felt right.
The old lady didn't seem surprised nor did she look at him skeptically-after all, it seemed ridiculously impossible for an eighteen year old boy to come see his separated North Korean brother when the 'wall' was set up for more than fifty years before he was born- instead, she smiled, her eyes watering.
"I'm here to see my brother as well!" she said excitedly. "The last time I saw him he was a mere babe… now he's well over forty, can you believe that?" she laughed, tears dripping down her cheeks.
The world had a way of complicating the simplest of things, didn't it? The world had a creativity to destroy, ruin, desecrate and sever the closest of relations, didn't it? For what cost? For what achievement? For what glory? How many more would suffer separation even though the blood that ran in their veins was exactly the same? How many more victims? How many more innocents? How many more-
He rubbed his eyes hastily, and tried to force up a smile- even though his cheeks felt heavy, his heart pumped with dread and his eyes stung like needles…
But he couldn't.
For once, he couldn't.
At that moment, he didn't care about the politics, he didn't care about the scars, he didn't care about lives, he didn't care about the screams, the rage, the anger, the hate…
He missed his brother.
He missed Hyung-Soo.
And that made him want to bawl like a defenseless little baby on that old woman's chest.
"Sesangi," the old woman breathed.
He snapped his eyes open, quickly following her trail of sight. In the far distance, a few meters away, stood a collection of people- almost mirroring how they stood- frozen in their places, their eyes searching at them with disbelief.
He was rooted to his spot as the people ran into each other, their arms thrown into embraces, their faces streaked with tears, their cries of joy echoing, the bodies fainting from the utter incredulity of what was happening. After years and years and years… after conflict and separation and isolation, they were finally allowed the most basic human need.
His eyes ran through the people, panicking with each passing second.
Where was he?
His eyes went wild- long braid, long braid, long braid-
Where was he?!
His teeth were grating and shudders ran up his spine. His nails felt as if he had scraped them on concrete. Cold sweat was breaking across his forehead.
Hyung-Soo?
A hysterical chuckle bubbled out of his lips and his eyes burned.
No way. He wouldn't do this… he was- he was here. He had to be- he was-
He didn't come.
It felt like a tonne of bricks collapsed inside of him and his legs threatened to give away. The crushing in his heart- the deflation of so much anticipation and so much longing and so much want…
He devoured bowls of instant noodles, multiple servings of kimchi, bought as much tteok as he could from his favourite sweet shops along with boxes of hahngwa before walking out to buy some street food from those cute little carts. He sat at home, in front of his television while Big Bang echoed from his speakers, and gulped down Korean beer until his brain was practically swimming in it.
He threw himself down, his glasses askew on his face, and stared emptily at the ceiling.
His phone rang- vibrated from where it sat by the table- and Korea glared at it. He didn't want to talk to anyone.
It rang and he ignored.
It rang and he ignored.
It rang-
He aimed a sharp kick at the table, sending it tumbling down, and the phone shattered against the floor in shards of glass and metal.
"Guhh-juh," he hissed. "Damn it all."
North Korea pulled the phone from his ear, oddly eying it. It was ringing just a second ago and now, it completely disconnected. He placed the phone back down and leaned against his chair.
It was the reunion today and he initially wasn't going to go. His boss told him it was best to stay as far away as possible from his brother, since it was entirely different when two nations met when compared to a bunch of separated family members meeting. If anything, he shouldn't associate with South Korea through anyway.
But… he went either way.
He boarded the plane and sent a message to his Boss telling him to not expect him around for three to four days and at that point… at that point he felt so free. He felt so happy- happiness that he didn't feel for more than fifty years rush through him. He remembered all those memories- those days they'd cook in China's kitchen, or when they'd play in the paddy fields or when they'd uphold each other with all they've got when Japan became too harsh and too merciless.
It had gotten to the point that he started laughing with his people, sharing all his excited stories and all his memories that he thought he hid so well.
If his boss saw him now, he had laughed, he'd have a complete heart attack!
He saw his brother.
He saw him standing in the crowd of wrinkly, old people… and stopped.
Im Yong Soo was taller, much more built- fleshed out- than he was before. His clothes were new, his stance was modern and he seemed, even though Hyung-Soo could see the fresh scars on his face and arms, healthy. If it wasn't for the desperate tears that ran down his cheeks, Hyung-Soo would've be assured that his brother was actually happy.
To spend three days with his brother- three days after decades of separation- three days when he survived centuries…
What cruel joke was this?
What cruel, sick joke was this?
Did he want to renew the torture? Renew the separation? Renew the isolation? Renew the pain and suffering of watching his brother get smaller and smaller as he moved further into his borders?
He scoffed.
He stood his ground as his people ran to their brothers, their sisters, their fathers, their mothers.
He stood his ground as his brother searched for him like mad.
He stood his ground as his own shoulders raked and his chest hurt so damn much with how much his heart was twisting and turning and wrenching and burning.
He stood his ground, watched his brother retreat and gripped his torso with his thin hands.
To him, it was either one of the extremes: either he'd have Im Yong Soo completely by his side or not see him at all, no matter how the results would be brought about.
AN: Small points to note:
The First Family Reunion in August 15 2000 was when separated family members in North and South Korea were allowed to meet each other for 3 to 4 days after decades (about 50 years) of separation (no telephone calls, no letters, not faxes, no emails, nothing…) before they were sent back to their own respective countries. Only 100 were chosen from each country for this reunion while there is an estimated 690 000 people separated by the DMZ and division of both countries.
Also, in South Korea, they teach all their students that there is one Korea and they hope for reunion with the North while the North Koreans completely reject the idea and want nothing to do with the South unless they take it over in under a Communist government (hence all the attacks that take place till this day).
Correct me if I'm wrong- you can never trust the internet these days :S
Ooh ooh!
I'm not sure 2PM, SHINee, Big Bang or 2NE1 (those k-pop bands) existed around the 2000s so… ignore the 'historical' inaccuracy XD
You know what else? :D How about a nice review?