STAY IN TOUCH,

A phone lights up on the nightstand beside Kim Jiwoong's bed, vibrating. He stirs for a moment, his eyes opening slowly and tiredly as he looks up at the ceiling. The sun hadn't risen yet as he reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand, checking the time. 3:18 AM. Jiwoong sighs, sitting up in bed as a hand runs through his hair, scratching his scalp.

It was far from the first time Jiwoong's sleep had been interrupted. Ever since he landed in Japan a month ago, he'd found that sleeping was quite difficult, no matter how many pills and herbs he'd been recommended. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of the house he'd been staying in, the loudness of the city at night something he was unable to get used to in comparison to the quiet streets back home. Or perhaps it was his guilty conscience that kept him up at night, the pile of letters on his desk staring him down as his eyes lingered in that spot, the envelopes unopened.

He didn't know why, but Kim Jiwoong couldn't bring himself to read the letters that Bae Yeojin sent him. Despite reassuring her that they'd stay in touch, that he'd only be gone for a short amount of time, there was something so intimidating about reading her words. Even the text messages she'd sent him, asking how he was doing, why he'd suddenly gone silent — he couldn't explain it, but speaking to Yeojin now that there were hundreds of miles between them scared him.

Now, even the mere thought of seeing her again was terrifying.

Jiwoong's phone lit up once more as he unlocked it, checking all of his unread messages and notifications. He had a few texts from Matthew, who sent pictures every now and then of his nights out with friends. Sometimes, he'd even update him on the state of Yeojin, though Matthew never really spoke to her. He'd just tell Jiwoong when he saw her from afar and how she seemed to be doing — and according to Matthew's words, Yeojin seemed to be just fine.

Still, he couldn't help but feel offended — offended that despite claiming to miss him more, she could live without him as if nothing had almost happened, as if she'd already moved on. But could he really blame her for it? He wouldn't even respond to a single letter or text message, for Christ's sake.

"You'll keep in touch, right?" Yeojin had asked him as they rode the bus to the airport, Jiwoong's only luggage being the backpack, full to the brim, hanging off one shoulder. They stood facing each other as they held onto the metal handle above them, the rest of the seats on the bus filled. "Like you said you would?"

Jiwoong looked at her, his head tilting to the side slightly as a lips formed a smirk. "What, miss me already?" he asked, chuckling when Yeojin's fist met his stomach. "I'm kidding," he said. "Of course I will."

"You better," she said quietly, her eyes looking away from the windows and meeting his, a sort of desperate look in her eyes. She thought about it, whether she should ask about New Year's Eve and what he'd told Xiaoting, whether she should bring up the fact that she was the only female Kim Jiwoong seemed to talk to and if he was talking about her that night. But Yeojin knew better.

She didn't want to start something she knew she wouldn't be able to end.

"I'll miss you," she said to him as he prepared to board the plane. She sat beside him, inhaling as she intertwined her fingers together, resting them on her lap. "Really."

"You already told me," Jiwoong said with a soft smile. He held the ticket and his passport in hand, his fingers tracing the edges. "If you're gonna miss me so much, why don't you just come with me?"

She shook her head, "I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"I have things I need to do," she explained. "Trust me, as much as I want to, I can't."

Want to? Bae Yeojin had never told Kim Jiwoong she wanted to go with him to Japan. If anything, she'd expressed her wishes not to go. Had she been lying? Did she lie to make his departure easier? He sighed, his eyes focused on the floor beneath their feet, a moment of silence falling between them as they waited — for Yeojin to ask her question, for Jiwoong to confess the feeling he'd been pushing down since the moment he met her, for his flight to be called.

But Bae Yeojin did not speak, and Kim Jiwoong couldn't find it in himself to do so either, so as his flight was called to board, a simple goodbye was exchanged, their eyes speaking more words than their mouths ever could in that moment.

Jiwoong turned his phone off after responding to Matthew's messages, letting it fall beside him on the bed as he rubbed his eyes, deciding that he was no longer going to fall asleep. He looked around the room he'd been staying in, unable to get used to the feeling of sleeping in a foreign country, a foreign city, a foreign bed. And it was then that he realized he'd gotten so used to sleeping in Yeojin's bed, anywhere else — even his own back home — felt like he wasn't meant to be there.

Throwing his blanket aside, he got up and walked towards the desk, taking a seat in the wooden chair. He turned on the lamp, the room now dimly lit as he moved the pile of Yeojin's letters closer to him, opening them one by one as his eyes skimmed over her words.

February 20, 2019.
Jiwoong. Sometimes, my mind can't help but wander off and think about you. I wonder if you've found what you're looking for, and I'm happy for you regardless. But there's a part of me that misses you so terribly, I feel my skin start to burn at the mere mention of your name. It burns so much I can hardly stand it.

February 28, 2019.
Jiwoong. The lack of you has started to consume me fully, and I don't really know what to do with myself now that you're not around. I know you said it would just be for a while, but this "while" feels like an eternity since the last time I saw you or heard your voice. I knew I'd miss you — I think I told you more times than I could count — but I never thought I'd miss you to this extent.

March 7, 2019.
Jiwoong. I look for the remaining traces of you in my room where you used to lay in my bed, in my kitchen where you used to stand beside the counter, laughing and making fun of me for my terrible cooking. It's like I'm being haunted by you, your ghost following me wherever I happen to go, the thought of you always lingering in the back of my mind. You've disappeared, but it's as if you never left in the first place.

March 14, 2019.
Jiwoong. There was something I was supposed to tell you the day you left, something that's been eating me alive since then. But I don't know if it's better that I speak or swallow those words, afraid that they'd only tear us farther apart than we already are.

March 21, 2019.
Jiwoong. There was someone I came across today that reminded me of you and for a moment, I felt comforted by the fact that you haven't spoken to me since we said goodbye. Sometimes, I can't help but resent you for it. But the feeling of longing overpowers my resentment much more.

March 28, 2019.
Jiwoong. Words fail to describe this feeling that has fallen upon me. There is not a day that goes by where I don't think of you. I miss you.

A hand came up to Jiwoong's face, pinching the bridge of his nose with his index and his thumb. It was hard to explain what he felt in that moment, sitting there as his body began to be consumed by the guilt of lying to someone he cared for so dearly. He let the letters fall out of his hand and onto the desk, feeling like a complete asshole. Perhaps it was the way Yeojin had phrased her words that made him feel this way, though her writing had always been a bit melodramatic.

"What are you even writing?" Jiwoong had asked her once as they sat across from each other in the library. It was almost midnight and he'd had tried convincing Yeojin to go home, his head resting on the table as he looked at one of the shelves beside them, trying to read the names of all the books there.

"Just... something," she told him, her fingers continuing to type away on the keyboard of her laptop. "Something I need to get out of my system."

He hummed, his eye lids drooping. "So like a diary entry?"

"Not necessarily."

"Then a story?"

"No," she said, pushing her glasses forward. "Just someone's truth."

Jiwoong sat up and looked at her, confused. His hair was already a bit messy from the nap he'd taken earlier, which caused Yeojin to smile when she looked up from her screen. "What do you mean, 'someone's truth'?" he asked her with furrowed eyebrows. "You only know your truth."

"Have you ever written anything before?" Yeojin asked, her typing coming to a halt. "Like for a class, with a prompt and stuff like that?" He put his head back down, grunting in response. "Seriously?"

"I'm not a writer, Yeojin," Jiwoong mumbled, trying his best to stay awake. "Stuff like that doesn't come naturally to me."

"I see." Yeojin lowered her laptop screen, watching Jiwoong struggle to keep his eyes open. "Do you want to read it?" she asked, fully expecting him to refuse and take another nap while she finished up. But Jiwoong didn't refuse. Instead, he sat and nodded, waiting for Yeojin to turn her laptop around so he could read what she'd written.

Kim Jiwoong remembers being filled with a sense of loneliness as his brain slowly processed Yeojin's writing, though it wasn't exactly his loneliness that he felt. Now, reading those letters that Bae Yeojin sent him — the ones that he'd been so scared to open — made him feel the same way, Yeojin's loneliness radiating off the paper and seeping into Jiwoong's skin. He could feel it, taking over his body as a part of him began to hate himself for ever making her feel such a thing.

He groaned, his head falling into his hands. Was it possible that his departure had really taken a toll on Yeojin's life? What she wrote in those letters, though brief — was it all true? She'd said it before, that she'd miss him, but had she really meant it?

The door creaked open and Jiwoong turned around, watching as Zhang Hao, the friend whose house he'd been staying at for the time being, peeked his head through the space between the door and the frame. He smiles, apologizing. "Sorry, I thought you were sleeping," he said. "I just wanted to know if you wanted breakfast."

Jiwoong smiled, rubbing his eyes. "Sure. What time is it?"

Hao pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. "Mm, 7:15." Jiwoong's eyes widened slightly as he realized he'd been thinking about Yeojin for the past four hours. "I'll call you when it's ready," Hao spoke as he closed the door, leaving Jiwoong alone once again.

He couldn't understand it, the feeling that had begun to grow in his stomach. He couldn't tell if it was what he was feeling, or if it was just Yeojin's feelings, her thoughts that were eating at him. He stayed in that chair thinking, until Hao came back to tell him breakfast was ready. But even then, as Jiwoong sat next to him at the table, Hao telling him about his plans for the day so Jiwoong would know where he'd be if he needed him, he couldn't help but be lost in his own thoughts, the food on his plate slowly getting cold.

And then it dawned upon him. What Kim Jiwoong was searching for, he wasn't going to find it in a country that was so foreign to him. He wasn't going to find it away from that sense of familiarity he'd always felt back home, and he sure wasn't going to find it in the people he brought home some nights in an attempt to heal a part of him that seemed to be decaying.

The more he thought about it, perhaps he'd made a mistake, judged her actions poorly, let his mind run wild and believe something that wasn't true — and because of that, he'd forced himself to feel something unnatural, something that was nothing close to his true feelings for Bae Yeojin. He felt like an idiot, like it could never have been more obvious now that he'd realized. Suddenly, the urge to go back home was strong, the need to explain himself growing. But part of him was screaming at him, telling him that he was too late, that there was no point in returning to a person he wasn't sure thought of him the same way. He sighed, receiving a look from Hao before he continued to eat his breakfast.

Still, there was no harm in trying.