Work Text:
When I was young, I always thought that I was far from death. I practically did not even know that death existed. Not at all. In fact, to me, death was a phenomenon that could only happen to people who were old. At least sixty five years old. My old friend, Jeno, thought that old was an age like, thirteen. We were only seven. Thirteen was old. And so I lived my life, knowing that I would never die, at least not until I was sixty five. So I say, I always thought I was far from death, and I still am.
Jeno, his full name was Lee Jeno. We liked to play on the swings, and go to amusement parks twice or three times a month. We would secretly buy ice cream at the parlor, when we knew we couldn't have dessert before dinner. We would have sleepovers, and we would be cozy in my blue and lavender colored bed. We would not sleep. Instead, Jeno and I would stay up, until at least eleven at night, because to two, small seven year old children, eleven was extremely late. In those two hours of being awake, we would play with three mini soldiers actions figures I owned. One of them was named Penpen, and the other was named Pinpin. And the one with the broken head was named Ron. We were not rich. We were not poor. We were just right. Is what we thought. Is what we were told.
Sometimes, instead of playing with the soldiers, we would imagine we were two tall soldiers, just like our grandfathers were. It was always fun.
When Jeno had to go home, I would whine, just waiting for the next time he would come play again, even if it was only a couple hours away. One extremely rainy night, fifteen days before my tenth birthday, Renjun came to my door and surprised me. He was holding a dirty blanket, he was wet from the rain, and crying. Who is Renjun, you may ask? Renjun was my new best friend. A a little over a month after I turned nine, he was just a boy who sold pastries in the heavy traffic streets. I always saw people buying from him, and patting his head. Telling him he looked cute and sparkly. He really was. I had always been jealous because my parents would also pat his head, which they hadn't done to me in two years.
When I asked my Mother, "Why do you pat his head, and call him cute? What about me? Why does he get all this love?"
My Mother replied, "He has no money, no friends, no known family, no Chuseok to celebrate with. Why else would he be selling on the streets in the cold winters, or the dry summers, while you go to school, make friends, have a stable home, and have no worries about money? Why do you think this, my son?"
I did not know how to answer.
"I don't know! He's not even that cute like all the adults say! It's not my fault he's poor!" I couldn't believe what I had said. I covered my mouth. My Mother looked at me through the rear view mirror, before turning to my Father, and asking him what who we should start inviting for the upcoming holiday, Chuseok. Even though I had bashed him seconds before, I turned my head, and saw how happy he looked every time an adult would pat his head and buy his pastry, or how cheerful he looked when a kid would laugh and talk with him.
So, here he was, the pastry boy, crying in front of my house, soaking wet, in the rain. I was a nice kid, is what I think I was.
"Uh. Hello! Um..." I said, as I held the door open. "Mommy! The pastry boy is here! Should I let him in?" I cried out to my Mother, who was watching a soap opera on the television. "What?" My Mother got up, and ran out of her room, to where I was standing, to see the short little boy she always bought pastries from.
"Renjun, poor child, come in, come in!" She grabbed a spare towel, from underneath the boxes of books I had, and wrapped it around him, before sitting him at the dinner table. She let him eat the leftovers we had. Beef, fish, soup, and many vegetables (I did not eat my vegetables. So there were always enough leftover).
Renjun ended up staying. And so he stayed, for years to come. Slowly, I grew to like him. He was nice, "squishy", and, the adults were right. He was the cutest brother I could ever have. Jeno and Renjun also bonded well. If anything, they were closer to each other, than I was closer to Renjun.
So here it was. Me, Jeno, and the new addition to our duo, Renjun. Now, when we played with my soldier action figures, we each played a figure, instead of me or Jeno playing two at the same time. Now, we all ate ice cream before dinner. Now, we all cuddled under my bed. Now, we were all happy. And, death was still far away.
---
We celebrated our secondary school graduation. We were adults. Eighteen years old, fresh out of school, and out to go see new adventures that awaited us. Jeno had grown up to be a tall, muscular, handsome, and kind fellow. But, everyone knew that would happen. Renjun grew up to be a shorter, and still very cute and caring person. As soon as graduation was over, and our parents let us go celebrate with other friends, we went to a nearby bar. Now, I do not remember who was there, at the top of my head. I remember there was me, Jeno, Renjun, and our two friends Donghyuck and Yangyang, as well as Renjun's other friends, Mark and Chenle. There were over fifteen people there, I could not remember everything.
When we were all drunk beyond our minds, and sloppy teens were making out in corners, and some had gone home early, it was, somehow, quiet. Renjun, Jeno, and of course, I, were the only one still there, and not overly drunk, nor sober. "Hey guys."
"Um. Hey, Jeno."
"You know, you know how I'm like super useless and shit, and I've lost my.. wait what? My wallet... and my inter.. interest in math? Yeah, I, um, enlisted." Jeno said, awkwardly, his right hand reaching to scratch his temple, which he always did when he was worried. I vividly remember Renjun screaming at him, and I remember myself staring at Jeno cry, and Renjun cry, and if I'm not mistaken, I cried too. And then I drank at least five more shots, before passing out.
When Jeno left, everything changed. We no longer talked about Jeno as much as we used to when he first left, and when we did, it was about how he stupidly made his enlistment decision without talking to anybody, and how we always came to the conclusion that it was his life. We were both now attending college, and life was stressful as it was. We did not have time to talk about even more stressful topics. Like Jeno.
Three years later, Renjun had decided to go for higher education, while I completed my four years in college, and got a local office job. It paid good enough, and good enough was amazing to me. I lived alone, and visited my parents every Fridays and Saturdays. Renjun and I spoke over telephone calls, but we never met up. My parents told me that he had visited them every Wednesdays. But, I didn't make the effort to go see him. Then, the almost unthinkable happened, Jeno completed his extended military service.
The first thing he did was call his parents, and then call me, and then call Renjun. We all agreed to meet up at a bar. I was scared. I was nervous. I felt butterflies and my stomach creeping up, and I was very anxious. Over the years, I had developed a form of anxiety, which I never liked talking about. But, after preparing for three hours, I walked out into my car, and drove to the bar. And I was right to be nervous. Everything was different. Renjun, even though we spoke over the telephone, had changed in attitude. He had an angry or annoyed undertone every time he spoke, and would only speak if me or Jeno spoke to him first.
Jeno had changed too. He looked more tired, he was still the same, just, tired. But weren't we all? He spoke very formally, and his demeanor was no longer "awkward nice guy", and more "stern boss man". I did not see him smile that day. The only time Renjun smile and laugh was when I offered a cigarette. "Hah! Sure, why not?"
We smoked now, and Jeno did not. "You guys... you both smoke? Since... since when?"
Renjun laughed, hitting Jeno's arm. "Please! We're just getting in the mood! You've been gone for way too long." I smiled, before telling Jeno it was just a joke, that he was not "gone for way too long", just, a very long time. Time flew by, things changed, we changed. I remember seeing Renjun slouch his shoulder on Jeno, before giving him a long kiss on his jaw. Followed by a grin,"Yeah! Jaemin's right. I didn't mean you were gone for "way too long", it's just, you know, we moved on from missing you. Y'know? We have, lives."
"Don't joke around like that Renjun!" I chuckled. Then, I remember Jeno taking Renjun's hand off his shoulder, and telling us that we were "fucking idiots" now. Before putting five-hundred dollars on the table, putting on his overcoat, and leaving in his black BMW. I remember looking back, and seeing him cry through his window, before driving away. Renjun, on the other hand, took the money, and shoved it into the worker's pocket, before also wearing his overcoat, and signaling for us to leave. "Does the infamous Lee Jeno think we can't afford it? Shouldn't he be the poor one? He just got out of the army, like, two months ago. Whatever. Fuck him. It was just a joke! He's suck a party pooper!" Renjun whined jokingly.
"You got any more alcohol at your place? Didn't you say you got a karaoke machine or something?"
I just sighed at what he said. "Yeah." He linked our arms, and we headed back to my place for round two. We never looked back, when we should have.
---
After not contacting Jeno for a year, we found out through our parents that Jeno had enlisted again, voluntarily. And just like how I thought death was far, at the unripe age of twenty six, I learned that death was not far, at least not for Jeno. Seven months into his service, he died of external injuries. Leaving a letter behind, it was drenches in his own blood, written in the hospital.
Renjun was devastated, and we were crying for weeks. Wishing we had spent more time, seriously, with him. He was right, we were stupid, fucking idiots.
Just like that, all our memories of Lee Jeno turned sad, because of our own stupid, jokes and decisions. The action figure with the broken head was the one Jeno played with when we were young. He said, "It reminds me of myself. Of how broken my mind really is. If I die, I die with the courage of a broken mind, and a fully loved heart!" We all laughed.
Death was far. For me, at least. For Huang Renjun at least. For Lee Jeno? Not as much. We never spoke about death again.
---
Na Jaemin is an acclaimed novel writer, who wrote Best Sellers like, "The Dog That Ran" (Illustrated by Huang Renjun), "Ice Cream Never Tastes The Same" (Illustrated by Nakamoto Yuta), "Twenty Six Years of Torture (Illustrated by Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, mononymously known as Ten)", "Mind Troubles (Illustrated by Huang Renjun)", and "Life, of Which I Can Never Go Back To" (Illustrated by Huang Renjun)". He currently lives with his artistic partner, Huang Renjun, in Seoul, South Korea.
Authors Note:
I introduce to you, my short memoir, "Far Reaching Regrets", also illustrated by Huang Renjun. This is all completely, 100% real events that I remember, as well as some of Renjun's own collectives. Lee Jeno was a real person, a son, a soldier, a fighter, a believer, and a best friend. Most of my novels are based around him, and although I have not written a novel since 2007, I spent eleven years making this short memoir to Lee Jeno with Renjun. He died all the way back in 1984, which is why contact was never simple. It has been thirty nine years, and I am now sixty five. I am not dead. Death has rested behind me, and not with me. Not everything is purely accurate, as it has been almost four decades, and I am an old man. But, I hope you read this with a heart filled with compassion, and love. Rest in Peace, Jeno, I love you to the moon and back. Thank you.
Na Jaemin
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Illustrators Note:
If I could go back in time, I would have loved you through my words and actions. Instead, I changed myself for the worst, and hurt you through my forever regretful heart and mind. I would have sown flowers through your beautiful heart, instead, I trashed them with thorns and weeds. I'm sorry. Forever, thank you. Rest well, Jeno. I just wish. I only wish. Thank you to the readers, for giving me motivation for a new adventure, every day.
Huang Renjun