Rosekook Oneshot Collection

8. Coming Home

{historical fiction, post-war, love triangle, childhood love}

I'm coming home,
I'm coming home,
Tell the world that I'm coming home.
Let all the rain wash away all the pains of yesterday.
⤝❁⤞

Seoul, Winter 1948

There was no easy way to tell her. Park Chaeyoung was not the type to handle bad news well. Jungkook had learned that the hard way when he had discovered her broken bike a few years ago and she spent the entire summer wailing and mourning its loss. But the days of childish problems and small inconveniences were long gone now. The information Jungkook was about to share this time was of vital importance. She was bound to find out somehow, and Jungkook preferred she heard it from him.

Jungkook had to concoct a plan to deliver the news. A method that would soften the blow as much as possible. He chose nighttime as it was often calmer than their days. The cover of darkness allowed them to step outside the confines of their homes and breathe in the outside air – even if the freshness of it was tainted by the scent of wreckage and blood.

He had peeked his head over the stone bricks that separated his family home from Chaeyoung's just as the Parks were finishing their meal on the outside porch. Luckily, Chaeyoung noticed him right away, her brows lifting in surprise as Jungkook motioned for her to meet him on the rooftop after supper. She nodded her head slightly to communicate her understanding while pretending to listen to her father complaining about the repercussions of the second world war.

Jungkook, having heard the same exact mantra from his own parents, decided to climb his roof early to avoid hearing it again. The torn state of the country was a well-known fact, but the more people talked about it, the worse it made Jungkook feel. To the older generation, splitting the country in half was barbaric and unnationalistic. But the new generation was just deeply confused. While the country blew up piece-by-piece, all they could do was follow the instructions of their elders and fight for survival. And now that the war was presumably over everywhere else in the world, the unrest in their country was still frighteningly real.

As Jungkook pondered about all these heavy thoughts, a stone suddenly hit him on the shoulder.

"What are you thinking so deeply about?"

He looked up with a grin as Chaeyoung gathered the skirt of her dusty hanbok up into her tiny hands and plopped down on the roof adjacent from him. One of the many perks of being neighbours was that their brick houses were so close together that they were practically face-to-face, feet hitting each other as they swung them back and forth across the ledge. Their post-dinner discussions had begun since they were playful 8-year-olds who played rock-paper-scissors for hours as their sole source of entertainment, until they had become curious teenagers contemplating the state of the world.

"Oh, you know, the devastation from the war, the food insecurity, the lack of hope for the future – just the usual things."

Chaeyoung offered him a small, almost rueful smile. "If only you thought this deeply about your schooling. Imagine the admirable scholar you could become."

"You know I am more of a physical labourer. I have got to use these muscles somehow. They would be wasted on carrying books and reciting poetry."

Chaeyoung gave him an unimpressed look as he raised the sleeve of his ragged cotton shirt and flexed his arm muscles as proof. "You know what they're saying these days in the newspapers? That a big brain is more valuable than a big body."

"Well then it is fortunate that I have both," Jungkook smirked, knocking his knees against hers playfully.

She smiled at him, not denying his statement. And for a second Jungkook just stared at her. With her black hair braided down her back and her long hanbok, she looked so much more grown up than he had realized. She was getting taller and taller by the day, her features becoming more matured. But when she smiled, that same innocence and from her youth suddenly reappeared. He wanted to capture that face in his mind so that he could look back on it when things became tough. Something told him he would need it.