Chapter Text
Life often has a tendency to fall into a dull rhythm and so had Shota’s. A repeat cycle of waking up, dragging himself to school, talking to his friends and ignoring the looming day of graduation. The weeks had started to bleed into one another, becoming something painfully ordinary, seemingly without escape.
And today, just like any other, he came back home, his parents still at work and sister at school, the only sign of life coming from the scratching sounds of his dogs paws across the floor as they ran excitedly around the otherwise quiet apartment. After greeting the small little animals, he headed straight to his room, his backpack being tossed to the side as he landed on his bed with a loud thud. He hoped the soft mattress could absorb his worries of the career evaluation paper that lay crumpled up in his bag. Instead his body hit something stiff.
With a groan he rolled over to see the object beneath him. Staring back at him was a colorful cover of two school boy’s, titled ‘’Yesterday’s Melody’’. It was one of his sister’s comic books. She sometimes gushed to him about them as he studied on the living room floor. A never ending flood of words enveloping him. He tried to understand her excited ramblings, to be a supportive older brother, but it appeared to be beyond him. This bizarre world his sister was so infatuated with.
But now looking down at the book in his hands, he felt a strange curiosity creep up. The joy his sister found in these stories seemed so different from that of his own reality. And so he opened it.
The story followed two childhood friends in a quiet 80s/90s Korean town, their walks to school, their shared bus stop, and a music-cafe in which they would spend their free time looking over cassettes. Mixed in between were the overly sweet cliches expected of the genre, reddish cheeks, accidental hand grazes and stolen glances.
As he flipped through the pages, skimming over the panels of art and dialogue, he felt his eyes grow heavy. Before long the book fell to the side and the room filled with steady, peaceful breathing.
Shota’s eyes flickered open, the sleep around them already flaking off. He looked at the sunlight flooding through the window. Suddenly he shot up.
It was already morning. Had he really slept that long?
As his gaze adjusted to the space around him, he realized the unfamiliar room he found himself in. The yellowish walls covered in pictures and posters that he did not recognize. The mattress underneath him felt stiff and rigid, nothing like the soft bed he lay in just hours before.
Shota rushed to the mirror just to see his own reflection staring back at him. His dark eyes wide and the black hair a messy nest from sleeping. It was him.
Was this a dream?
But as he pinched himself, the pain he felt was unmistakably real, along with the echoing voices coming from behind the door. With hesitation he creaked it open.
‘’Shota! Are you finally up?’’ He heard the familiar voice of his mother from downstairs. ‘’Come eat breakfast! You have to leave soon. The first impression you make shouldn’t be arriving late.’’
Slowly Shota took a step forward, walking down the stairs of the foreign house. He stumbled his way over to the kitchen where, along with his mother, he heard his father’s and sister’s laughs. The moment his mother's gaze fell upon him, her face scrunched in surprise. ‘’Are you not dressed yet? You know you have to leave earlier.’’
Shota just stood there, his eyes darting between the people in front of him. His dad stood by the counter in an oversized gray suit, a large red tie hanging from his neck, hair slicked back. His mother putting food on a plate in a pin straight skirt, a flower blouse tucked in it, her hair formed in a fluffy bob. And his sister, usually in a hoody, now was stuffing another spoonful of rice in her mouth dressed in a denim jacket and highwaisted jeans. The scene looked straight out of an old timey movie or a magazine ad.
Shota rubbed his eyes at the dreamlike visual. They all looked perfectly at home.
‘’Shota! Are you listening to me?’’ His mother with slight irritation behind the voice called out again. ‘’Quickly go get dressed and come back to eat.’’
Still in shock, Shota went up to the room he just had come from. When the doors shut he felt his legs give out, his body sliding to the floor with an exasperated sigh.
What’s happening? He tried to scour his brain to find a reasonable explanation. This must be a dream, right?
He pushed himself off the floor to go open the closet. It looked more akin to a vintage clothing store. The neatly placed pieces resembled nothing of the closet back at home. He scrambled through it trying to find anything that would match the clothes he would usually wear, settling for a regular tshirt and jeans that were still too high waisted for his liking. Shota patted down his hair, taking a moment longer to stare at the mirror, before hearing his father from downstairs. ‘’Shota, come down! We have to go. You’ll just have to eat in the car.’’
He ran outside still in a haze, taking seat next to his sister in the back of the dark green hyundai. His mother pushed the small box of food along with a backpack in his hands before wishing her two children and husband a safe trip.
As the engine roared, Shota looked through the window, the quickly passing houses, mountains and forests hovering behind them. But he was promptly pulled out of this trance by the sudden static of the radio coming on.
‘Have you prepared a hot cup of coffee or tea yet? Today's weather looks beautiful with expected clear skies and a bright sun. It is currently 7.30, 7th of March, 1989 and you're listening to Radio Korea.’
Shota in shock looked around the car, the others still peacefully deep in their own thoughts. He desperately tried to comprehend what he had just heard.
‘’What did it say?’’ Shota leaned forward sharply.
His dad let out a soft giggle. ‘’Do you still have problems understanding it?’’
‘’No! Not that!’’ Shota exclaimed. ‘’Did it say 1989? Korea?’’
His dad's face turned into slight worry at his son’s raised voice filled with distress, his sister’s attention also drawn to the unfolding conversation. ‘’What are you talking about?'' His father glanced at him through the rearview mirror. ‘’Are you still sleeping or just nervous?’’ His gaze drifted back to the road. ‘’Don’t worry, both of you. You’re going to love your first day in school! Me and your mom have already talked to the staff, so if you don’t understand something you can always ask them for help.’’ His father smiled reassuringly, though it only increased the rising dread Shota felt.
The rest of the ride was spent in silence. Before long the car turned a corner and rolled into the parking lot of a large school that felt eerily familiar. Their father walked him and his sister to the front office. The lady working behind it greeted them with a warm smile, slowly running over some of the main introduction points, handing them both uniforms and curriculum sheets, though Shota could barely focus. His father took his leave shortly after wishing them both luck and the women guided them both to their classrooms. First his sister and then Shota. As they wandered through the halls already quiet with students sitting in lessons, Shota could have sworn he had already seen this. The hallways lined with classrooms and the shiny waxed wooden floors easily to be slipped on.
The lady stopped in front of one of the doors pushing them open to apologize for the lateness. She quickly talked to the teacher before rushing out, leaving Shota standing there in dismay as the gazes of the students drilled into him accompanied by quiet chatter.
‘’Okay, class!’’ The teacher finally spoke up. ‘’We have a new student today from Japan. Please introduce yourself.’’ She smiled at Shota.
His gaze panned over the room before stuttering out in the unfamiliar language. ‘’Hello, my name’s Shota. I’m from Japan.’’ The curt introduction sent waves of soft giggles through the room.
‘’Please be quiet!’’ The teacher interrupted. ‘’Shota, please tell us something more.’’ She urged him.
He took a second to think about it, rifling through his limited vocabulary. ‘’I like music and dancing.’’ Again a wave of giggle followed.
It looked like his teacher had given up as she awkwardly smiled. ‘’Okay, please all be accommodating and treat him well. I hope we can all work well together in the future. You can sit at the far end desk with the untaken seat by the window.’’ She instructed as Shota stumbled his way to the back.
The boy sitting there seemed engrossed with the view spanning the large window, like he had paid no attention to the arrival of the new student.
‘’Hi, I’m Shota.’’ He unsurely whispered, still not fully comprehending what was happening. But as the other turned around his breath hitched.
The boy's gaze studied him and with slight hesitance he responded. ‘’Hi, I’m Jongseob.’’
It was the same boy from his sister's comic.