By Zephyria 
The boy leaned his upper body against the wide-open windowsill.
With his arms crossed and his cheek resting slanted upon them, he gazed quietly at the scenery outside. A breeze was blowing. The wind, having crossed the mountain ridges, gently shook the lush forest. Countless leaves were swept away all at once, surrendering themselves to the wind.
Swoosh…
The boy closed his eyes, feeling the current of the wind caressing his forehead.
The high-saturation blue sky, the fluffy altocumulus clouds that looked like handfuls of cotton wool plucked and hung in the air, the distant sound of car horns, the noise of people moving about, the songs of forest birds…
Many things had changed over the past year.
A life that had been frozen began to flow. His hair, which he had kept short, had grown long enough to touch the lobes of his ears, and the characteristic youthful air that had lingered in his cheeks and jawline had faded considerably.
It felt as though nothing in the world had changed during the six months he spent asleep.
It felt as if he had fallen asleep yesterday and just woken up now; he felt the illusion that everything he had experienced until then had either never happened or had been a dream.
However, what awakened his sense of reality was the fact that Mesan, who had always been by his side, was nowhere to be seen. And…
What are you doing?
The texts from his lover that arrived several times a day.
Two months had passed since Jae-gyeom woke up.
He woke up early again today.
Current time: 6:23 AM.
Waking from his slumber, Jae-gyeom pushed himself up from the bed. Jae-gyeom had originally been the type to sleep in, but recently, he had been the first among the household to start his day. For some reason, there were more and more days lately where he woke up naturally in the morning without anyone needing to wake him. It was one of several changes that had occurred since he woke up after being asleep for half a year.
Leaving the bed, Jae-gyeom headed toward the window.
It had rained all day yesterday, but the sky had cleared up overnight. Despite the early hour, seeing the wide-open sky without a hint of dimness suggested that the weather would be fine all day. As he reached out to open the window, a rush of cool, fresh air flooded into the room.
There was a time when the mere fact that a new day had begun caused Jae-gyeom’s heart to sink miserably. When he woke up and found the weather was beautiful, he would often feel irrationally angry simply because the day was so fine.
A dark and unhappy heart is fragile; it is wounded by the mere fact that the morning is radiant and feels despair at the sight of a clear blue sky.
Whether the weather was good or bad, his mood was always poor, so back then, he simply didn’t welcome the act of opening his eyes in the morning. But lately, when he wakes up and the weather is clear like today, he feels a strange, floating sensation beneath his feet. Perhaps it was a vague sense of anticipation for ‘today.’ It was a sensation he had forgotten for a very long time.
After circling through many long years, Jae-gyeom suddenly realized a simple premise.
“Good things are, indeed, good.”
Jae-gyeom closed his eyes quietly and inhaled the faint scent of the forest carried in the air.
It was a refreshing May morning.
Stepping out into the living room, Jae-gyeom walked quietly. The first thing Jae-gyeom does upon waking is check the flowerpot. The pot was located near the sliding glass door of the living room. It was the spot in the house that received the most sunlight.
Jae-gyeom crouched down in front of the small pot.
“Did you sleep well?”
After offering his morning greeting, Jae-gyeom peered intently into the pot.
It was to see if anything had happened overnight or if there were any changes. However, whether it was unfortunate or fortunate, the state of the pot was not much different from yesterday. All that was visible was a small patch of soil the size of a palm. As he looked into the pot, Jae-gyeom’s eyes grew still.
It had already been two months since Mesan left.
There was still no word from Mesan.
Mesan was sleeping inside this very pot right before his eyes. Crossing the cold winter and passing through spring, the season had already reached May, where the greenery was lush. The grasses, trees, and flowers scattered everywhere were blooming day by day and the foliage was deepening, yet this small pot alone remained silent, as if isolated from it all.
When he learned that Mesan had returned to a seed, Jae-gyeom had wept uncontrollably. It wasn’t something that could be expressed with words like ‘thank you,’ ‘I’m sorry,’ or simply ‘I’m sad.’ Faced with an indescribable emotion, Jae-gyeom could not easily utter a single word.
Even after that, Jae-gyeom had to endure severe emotional hardship.
In fact, for a while after Mesan left, it was difficult for him to even bring up the name ‘Mesan.’ Just the resonance of saying “Mesan” aloud felt as if it were tightening his chest. Later, even just looking at the pot caused something to surge up inside him, making his heart ache terribly.
Jeong-ju, who watched Jae-gyeom from the side, told him that if he truly cared for Mesan, he should support and respect Mesan’s choice.
‘Jae-gyeom, Mesan is a brave fellow who can do anything for someone precious to him. That was also a choice for Mesan’s own sake. If there were a way to wake you, I would have done anything, and if the situation were reversed, you certainly would have done the same.’
It was as he said.
Jae-gyeom knew that feeling all too well in his bones.
‘Mesan hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s right here with us. Like the flowers and trees in the yard. I truly believe that. It’s inevitable that your heart is sad. But I think there are times when we have to pretend not to notice that inevitable sadness. Even if we have to do it on purpose.’
Pretending not to notice the inevitable sadness.
Using those words as a support, Jae-gyeom was able to become gradually more composed. He decided to ignore the sadness of Mesan returning to a seed and the bleakness of not knowing when he would return, and instead focus only on the fact that the season of spring—the season Mesan promised to return in—comes back every year.
In that way, Jae-gyeom slowly, bit by bit, regained his emotional strength.
“At this rate, when on earth are you going to come back?”
Jae-gyeom reached toward the pot.
He gently placed his index finger on the edge of the soil in the pot and stroked the earth as if tracing it with a soft touch. It was a careful and affectionate touch, like a feather landing. Since he couldn’t stroke Mesan, he touched the soil instead, but strangely, when he patted the earth quietly like this, his turbulent heart seemed to calm down considerably.
The small, round red seed had been buried in the soil about the depth of one finger joint. In truth, it was only a finger joint’s distance away from his sight. Yet, simply because it was invisible, he sometimes felt as if Mesan had gone to a very distant place.
There were times when he felt anxious, wondering if he was giving too much water, if there wasn’t enough sunlight, if the pot was too small and cramped, or what Mesan might be thinking, with no way to know.
“You should at least sprout a leaf so I know you’re doing okay, you brat.”
— …….
“You’re not sick or uncomfortable, right?”
— …….
Knowing that no answer would come, Jae-gyeom spoke to the pot like this every day. Though a seed cannot speak, Jae-gyeom suddenly thought that he wished Mesan would tell him anything at all, even if it were in a dream. Just as he had done several times before.
“Did you sleep well, milord?”
Just then, a voice was heard from behind.
Jae-gyeom turned his head and cast his gaze toward a round cushion placed in a corner of the living room. Yu Nam-saeng, who until a moment ago had been tucked in and snoring on the cushion, had peeked his head up.
“What? When did you wake up?”
“I woke up when you came out to the living room earlier, milord.”
“Was I noisy?”
“No, milord. Do I not usually wake up around this time?”
Answering thus, Yu Nam-saeng wiggled his way down from the cushion.
The nest-shaped cushion had been bought by Jeong-ju a while ago; it was originally designed for pet dogs or cats, but Yu Nam-saeng used it as a bed. Compared to Yu Nam-saeng’s size, it was quite vast. Being made of microfiber, it was fluffy and cozy, and Yu Nam-saeng liked the bed very much.
“Milord, were there any troubles during the night?”
Yu Nam-saeng, having crawled over, gave a polite bow of greeting.
Perhaps influenced by Mesan, Yu Nam-saeng had started subtly calling Jae-gyeom ‘milord’ at some point. He used the title for Jeong-ju as well, and when distinction was needed, he called them Milord Jae-gyeom and Milord Jeong-ju. Coming from Yu Nam-saeng, it sounded very archaic.
“Yes. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.”
Having finished his answer, Yu Nam-saeng blinked and looked up at Jae-gyeom. Noticing what Yu Nam-saeng wanted, Jae-gyeom raised his index finger and slowly stroked Yu Nam-saeng’s head, just as he had done for Mesan a moment ago.
Only then, seemingly satisfied, did Yu Nam-saeng beam with a grin.
“Ridiculous.”
Though he said that, Jae-gyeom let out a small chuckle.
He hadn’t noticed it before, but lately, he felt that Yu Nam-saeng was quite cute. It seemed he had certainly grown fond of him.
“I guess Jeong-ju is still sleeping.”
“It seems so, milord.”
Yu Nam-saeng added that Jeong-ju had fallen asleep very late again last night.
After resuming his activities and living between Seoul and the countryside for a while, Jeong-ju had successfully finished the project he was filming shortly after Jae-gyeom woke up. After that, he took a break and had been staying at the country house for several months.
Recently, however, having received the script for Director Kwon Soon-chul’s next project—which he had waited for a long time—he had been fervently analyzing the script. As a result, there were many days when he stayed awake until late, claiming that dialogue practice works best at night. Since he had fallen asleep at dawn today, it would be a long time before he woke up.
“I was going to have breakfast together.”
“Shall I wake him, milord?”
“No, it’s fine. Just leave him. Let him sleep more.”
“Yes.”
Anyway, what time is it now?
The one who actually needs to be woken up isn’t Jeong-ju, but…