Work Text:
Sometimes Young-woo thinks about it.
The sun.
For three hundred sixty-five days, the earth revolves around the sun. Not the other way around. The sun provides sunlight and warmth to the earth. Without the sun, the earth would be cold and unlivable. The earth, she knows, all too well, is nothing without the sun.
Young-woo knows all of this, very clearly.
Her father buys her a coat for passing the Seoul National University entrance exam.
It’s expensive, far more than anything he’s ever bought her before, and warmer than anything she’s ever worn. She wears it on her first day, light blue and white, prim and proper, every bit the future lawyer.
It reminds her of the sky.
Someone douses her hair in milk, in a freezing lecture hall, and everyone is laughing at her.
Choi Su-yeon raises her hand. Everything worthwhile starts after this.
Young-woo notices very early that everyone likes Choi Su-yeon.
Su-yeon is popular, warm. Su-yeon can talk to anyone and leave them smiling.
She points Young-woo to the cafeteria, strikes up conversations with her about homework she doesn’t quite understand. Young-woo talks to her about blue whales. Su-yeon laughs.
“Why are you laughing?” Young-woo asks, wondering what could be funny about dorsal fins. She supposes that they could be funny, if one took into account that both sperm and beluga whales had a complete lack of one.
Su-yeon is bathed in sunlight. “You must really like whales,” she remarks.
Young-woo nods and begins talking about why sperm whales didn’t have dorsal fins. Su-yeon continues listening to her.
Su-yeon’s friends don’t like her very much. This, she notices, far later than she really should have.
She can’t help it if she wants to stay close to Su-yeon. Not many people can stand to be in her presence for very long. Su-yeon listens to her, whales and all, with no complaint. Su-yeon has always been kind to her.
Su-yeon’s friends send her a video. It’s of a whale being speared.
She stops talking about whales at school soon after that.
Choi Su-yeon yells at her friends. She eats lunch with her, ever-reliable ham and spinach inside gimbap, on a bench outside the cafeteria.
It’s a bit cold, but with Su-yeon’s scarf around her neck, she feels a little warmer.
“Do you like the cold?” Young-woo places the gimbap down next to her. Su-yeon blinks.
“Why do you ask?”
“We’ve been eating outside in the middle of autumn,” Young-woo points out, rubbing two gloved hands together.
Su-yeon hums. “I guess I do,” she says. “Do you?”
Young-woo considers it for a moment. “I guess I do, too.”
Winter comes and goes. With it takes Choi Su-yeon, who goes back to her hometown for winter break.
Young-woo continues to send her whale facts via email.
If she doesn’t reply, then Young-woo guesses the fact wasn’t important enough. She continues this until the rain on her roof solidifies and the Christmas carolers at her door are gone. She wonders when the warmth will come back.
It’s cold without a scarf. She knows she should buy one, but she never does.
Here’s a fact that’s actually important:
Sperm whales bathe in the sun to be able to survive in it. They soak their skin in sunlight to create protective proteins that repair damaged DNA.
Without the sun, this is not possible. Not a lot is possible without the sun.
Choi Su-yeon starts eating inside the cafeteria again.
Woo Young-woo stays outside, looking in.
She struggles to open a water bottle in the middle of a lecture.
A pen explodes in her hands. Young-woo goes to the bathroom to wash her hands of ink, difficult to remove with just lavender-scented soap and water, but eventually, she gets it all off.
When she comes back, the water bottle cap is loosened. Choi Su-yeon sits three rows behind her.
Young-woo graduates in the spring sunshine, three years later.
She sees Su-yeon with her parents, smiling. Young-woo smiles, too, holding a bouquet of sunflowers close.
“Young-woo-ah, are you happy?” Her dad asks.
She nods.
“You’re like the spring sunshine,” she tells Choi Su-yeon, after too much has passed. “I’ve thought so ever since we were in law school.”
If Choi Su-yeon was the spring sunshine, Young-woo guesses that she must be the winter sky.
The ice thaws.
Su-yeon tells her that she is like the sun. Young-woo knows this isn’t an accurate description of her.
Woo Young-woo decides that she might be the earth, then, seeking the sun’s warmth at every turn, waiting for the spring sunshine to paint the land in gold.
The earth has always been more beautiful in the spring.