The Guardian's Gift

7

Jisoo could have sworn she had never seen this much color of black being scattered in one place. At least not directly. From the moment she stepped into the building, she couldn’t help but to be immersed in one particular emotion that everyone was sharing. The place had two giant, pale cream colored pillars standing on either side of its entrance door. And to reach that door, visitors must complete their shares of ten steps on its staircase. As if they had to climb to reach their despair.

     Walking inside the building, she was given the same kinds of faces—red and swollen eyes, red noses, and lips which corners were pulled down. Even they shared one harmonious noise of high pitched howl with sporadic interruptions in between breaths, that held the power of dragging the air to the ground. The dreadfully small fraction that remained didn’t say a word, like a mime. It was due to the fact that their feelings were arched in the back of their throats. Besides, if they all plummeted down, whose shoulder there was to weep on?

     She was one of the mimes.

     Her parents strode like a pair of ducks and she was their duckling, as in trailing behind them and printing her footsteps at the exact same place as theirs were. There was a great chance she would be carried away by another group of joined distress in black costume as a result of accidental camouflage.

     The enormous hallway was divided into smaller rooms that were identified with numbers. They were all identical except for their familial ancestries. Her heart was drowned in regret as she saw the name ‘Kim Seokjin’ next to the number ‘1’ in one of the rooms, as if he was the best in that kind of context, instead of any other better instances.

     Inside his room, the first thing that caught her eyes was his photo. The way his eyes narrowed into the loveliest shape of crinkles, his properly lined teeth were stripped off of their usual shame, and how his lips curled upwards for his dimples to shine, the entirety of them was very much alive. It was almost like he was actually staring and smiling at her as if he was eternal and would be able to do that for a long time ahead. Her heart skipped a beat but also aching.

     Various flowers in types, sizes, and bright colors adorned the last piece of him that people would pay their respects to. The flowers did a flimsy job at lifting the atmosphere, especially when the person in question was someone like Seokjin. His room was filled with corporate executives, their slaves, and their huge chrysanthemum stands conveying their condolences, making more time for her to stare at his picture than paying her actual respect.

     While waiting in line, she saw his family who was standing beside one another on the left side of the display. His mother was in the middle as she was still crying, his father was on her right. He was holding her hand tightly as she poured her tears out on his shoulder. Mimi, Seokjin's younger sister whom she had never met, was rubbing her mother's back while clutching her left arm. Mimi’s cheeks were moist from the tears that streamed down through them.