Chapter 2  : Chapter 2   – Starting Again (1)

“Juho, come eat!”

Several days had passed since Juho had returned to the past. He heard his mother’s voice, a voice that he had become used to by now. From the living room, Juho was able to see his mother from behind, busy in the kitchen. He walked over to the kitchen and rested his head onto his mother’s shoulder. That smell, it had been a while.

“You haven’t been yourself lately. Did you do something wrong?”

“It’s nothing like that.”

“No? Then what is it? Tell me.”

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Hearing his mother offering to solve his problems, Juho had to hold his tears. He had become homeless after his failed attempt at business and some stock investment as a last hurrah. Filled with shame, he had to lie every time he visited his old, retired parents living in the countryside.

He covered himself with leaves at parks and slept at subway stations. He took all of his meals at a soup kitchen. Juho was unbearably afraid of a tomorrow. It had been no different from his middle school years, when he would stay up worrying about his future. The days were miserable and terrifying. Being close to fifty, Juho couldn’t bear to think that he was even weaker than his middle school self. Even then, what made it scarier was that he couldn’t find his way out.

“Mom.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

At his mother’s hand, who was in the habit of stroking his back, Juho calmed his heart and asked,

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“Are you happy that my book is selling well?

“Of course! My son’s successful.”

“Just watch! It’ll get made into a show and a movie. It’ll be translated into seven different languages too.”

“Did you have a dream? You shouldn’t be celebrating so soon.”

“Maybe.”

Of course it hadn’t been a dream. Juho had experienced a terrible failure in his life, and then he returned. He let out a smirk.

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“You must be sleep-talking with your eyes open. Hurry up and come eat. Go get your dad.”

“Sure, mom.”

After the family gathered at the table to eat and talk, Juho went back to his room. After a brief time thinking, he decided to look up his book on the internet. [Best seller number one, Trace of a Bird, author Yun Woo.] Yun Woo was an alias. It was a spontaneously made up name, that took the name of the protagonist from the book and combined it with his actual last name.

Juho showed his work to his mother, and she responded.

“You wrote this?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“You got 1st place?”

“Yes.”

His mother’s face slowly brightened up. This was the first and the last time Juho ever made his mother happy. He was an incredibly bad son.

“Goodness, I’m so proud of you my son. I was worried what you’d become when you’re stuck in your room not doing anything, but you’ve been doing such an amazing thing.”

Juho felt a slight relief from the endearing spank of his mother. At the same time, he felt a sense of respect for her. While he was homeless around her age, she had given birth to a child, raised him, and done all kinds of housework while working at a restaurant. She was an incredible person, his mother.

“What’s the ruckus? Is there anything to eat?”

“Honey, look at this. Our son is a best-selling author.”

“Salad, what?”

Wearing nothing but his long johns, Juho’s father looked at the computer screen, asking Juho several times if the Yun Woo character was really him. Then, he let out an excited laughter.

“Let’s have a party. A party!”

Exhilarated, Juho’s mother headed straight into the kitchen. That day, laughter never left the table. Even as he was on a cloud nine, Juho wondered if he was dreaming. Then he thought to himself,

‘If it is a dream, I might as well enjoy it.’

But morning came the next day and the following day. Then, it became clear to him that it was all real.

Juho and his parents were now younger. He moved his hand around and clenched his fists. There was nothing awkward or weird. His baffled-by-success self and despairing-from-repeated-failures self had somehow become one.

On the day before Juho came back to the past, he ate the kimchi stew that had been reheated three times. Excited for the weekend, he stayed up late on his computer. Juho’s mom told him to go to bed early. He kept worrying while picturing what it would be like to move up to high school and reflected on the last thirty years. The future was going to be a series of failures.

In a hurry, Juho opened his notebook.

‘I have to write this down before I forget.’ He thought to himself.

He wrote down all the failures to come, including all the things he regretted, lost... anything he could remember. His hand started hurting. It felt silly to be writing so much with a computer in front of him, but there was already a pen in his hand. He wasn’t in a state to be able to use the computer.

“Let’s not repeat the mistakes from the past. Don’t let this notebook become a book of prophecies.” Juho wrote each and every letter with conviction. Then, he heard a whisper behind him.

“Honey, maybe our son really was a genius after all. He used to read backwards when he was young.”

“Maybe we did a really good job with prenatal care.”

“It’s got to be that. I heard you can have a good looking baby if you keep the bathroom clean, so I worked my butt off.”

“Don’t forget about me going out every night to bring you meat.”

“Look at him. It’s like he can’t even hear us because he’s so focused.”

‘I can hear you mom.’

Juho smiled in secret. Coming to think of it, his parents were really adorable. When he glanced at them, they cleared their throats and laughed.

“Have some fruit.”

His parents put down the plate next to the desk and closed the door on the way out to help Juho focus, and he turned his attention back to the notebook.

By the time he put down the pen stuck to his sweaty hand, the day was already halfway gone.

“Haha!”

It only took half of a day to write down thirty years worth of failures. It probably would have been much faster to use a keyboard. It had been such an empty life. Juho stared into the notebook that had been filled with his history.

“What do I do now?”

He asked the all-capable god who sent him back in time. “What was it that you wanted? What were you thinking when you gave me a second chance? What’s his reason for leaving me in a situation like this without any explanation?”

Instead of an answer, Juho’s hand ached. The pen had left a red mark. His hand was stuck in a writing position, and it was difficult to move it. The moment he tried, it shot with pain. There was a tingling sensation in his wrist. It was a familiar kind of pain. Anyhow, he just wanted to write.

“I’m leaving now.”

“Watch out for the cars.”

Juho was on his way to school. The high school was not far, and it was near a mountain, which meant steep hills. The neighborhood Juho lived in was made in a mountain area. The sides of the mountain went through the alleyways between the residential areas. The upside was that the air was crisper than the lower part of town.

Arriving at school, Juho went into his class. There was awkwardness in the air. It was the beginning of the semester, so it made sense. The majority of people were keeping themselves busy on their phone. Juho found his seat. It was next to the window, third row from the back.

He sat down and took out books to read at school.

Juho was wearing a uniform and taking a class at a school. It was both welcoming and boring. The cold desk smelled like dust.

“What are you reading?”

The guy sitting right in front of him asked. His name tag read Seo Kwang Kim, and Juho handed him the book in his hand and said,

“It’s a classic.”

Seo Kwang saw the title and nodded. There weren’t that many high school students who enjoyed reading. It seemed like Seo Kwang took the initiative to talk to Juho at first, but the way Seo Kwang was looking at the book was unusual. Affection? Love? He looked like a dog lover staring at a Welsh Corgi’s butt. He seemed like he would run up and pat on its chubby butt and he was actually stroking the cover of the book.

“Ahh, this was a good book. A mysterious girl crosses path with a genius musician. Their relationship makes you realize how fragile love is between a man and a woman. It’s heart-aching. I can’t help but give the author a tip of the hat for his beautiful prose. As I was reading, I was wishing for my other half to be out there somewhere. A harmony of romance and longing.”

Seo Kwang made a long exposition in one breath, blinking awkwardly.

“This author is known for his children’s literature too. If you haven’t read them, I recommend you check it out.”

“Hm.”

He spoke with clear enunciation. Realizing how quiet Juho was, Seo Kwang responded,

“Right, I’ll let you be now. It’s been a while since I ran into another book lover.”

“It’s fine. I was getting bored anyway. You must enjoy reading quite a bit.”

“Reading is my life.”

It was as if Seo Kwang had been waiting all along to say that. It was very apparent how much he loved reading.

A high school student who enjoyed reading... that was a rarity, He treated Juho’s book with care to prevent damaging it. Seo Kwang gave Juho the book back and pulled out the book that he had brought himself. Recognizing the cover, Juho read it out loud instinctively.

“Trace of a Bird.”

There was a bird in a white background. Another person was holding the very book written by Juho himself. It had been a while since Juho had seen it. Life kept on spiraling downward like the trace of a bird. It would not stop. Juho even felt like the book snatched away his wings. It couldn’t have been true, of course.

He stared at the book, and asked Seo Kwang, who was anxiously waiting, a question, “Was it any good?”

It was a heavily paraphrased question. Seo Kwang let out an exaggerated sigh. He put his hands on his face, and shook his head.

“‘Good’ alone can’t dare to describe this book.”

“Then?”

“I’m blessed for sure. I can’t believe I get to read such a masterpiece in its original language instead of a translated copy. It’s about time Korea had its own, world-renowned author!”

“Let’s not get too excited.”

It was an over-the-top compliment. Seo Kwang didn’t mind one bit that he was the only person talking in the classroom. It was truly a passionate speech.

“How could you be so lukewarm? You haven’t read it haven’t you? You won’t be the same after you read it. How can I not be excited? This is a masterpiece. This book is truly a masterpiece!”

“OK, I get it.”

Juho nodded, but Seo Kwang kept on. He must have been the kind who jumps in recklessly when in came to his passion. They might appear to be calm most of the time, but as soon as they heard anything relating to their passions, they turned into a bard giving an epic speech. They were usually referred to as Mania, Otaku or Collectors. Seeing how he was already friendly with Juho, he probably hadn’t been the quiet type from the get-go.

“As soon as I finished reading this book, I bought two more copies for myself. One for preservation, one for enjoyment and one for practical use.”

“That’s a waste of money.”

“Waste? What do you mean waste?”

It was as if Seo Kwang had already become friends with Juho. Listening to Seo Kwang’s speech on the difference between wasting and investment, Juho became curious.

“What’s the practical use for?”

“This one I’m carrying. The book gets damaged when you carry it around.”

With those proud words, he embraced his book. Seo Kwang was probably the only person who was that passionate about reading over video games or girls.

“You know what’s even more amazing?”

“I don’t know.”

“The author is our age, a high school student.”

Juho didn’t say anything. Seo Kwang made whatever he wanted out of Juho’s reaction and went on unimpeded.

“Shocked? This book won an award at a competition hosted by a publishing company. It’s not common that a high school student would get the award, and not only that, the content is top notch. No wonder people are going crazy over it.”

“Hmmm.”

“I don’t know anything else though. His age is the only thing known to the public. He is a student, so they’re trying to protect him.”

“How curious.”

“Of course! I want to know what this guy looks like. What kind of person does it take to write such an amazing book? I’m so curious!”

Juho muttered silently as Seo Kwang grumbled on,

‘He’s right in front of your eyes. Don’t complain too much, my friend.’

<Starting Again (1)> The End

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