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Jaeyun almost throws his body down to sit on the ground, legs weak from all the running he did, and consumes the last ounce of water left in the plastic bottle. Leaning head back against the wall of an alleyway, he continues to catch his breath.
The clear blue sky was bright. He questions its gall to look so tranquil and pleasant, such contrast from the current state he was in—on edge and aching. The guiltless sky is evidently mocking him. And in its absurdly perfect timing, even cherry blossoms began to fall.
“What a fucking joke,” Jaeyun scoffs under his breath. Dark clouds and heavy rain would be better right now.
Jaeyun was the type of person who doesn’t cry often, and as much the current situation is calling for his tears, he just couldn’t do so anymore. Not when the sun was shining so happily, not when the smallest sound of a sniffle could possibly lure in zombies.
It was infuriating to not be able to scream the pain out and to not have the courage to harshly throw away the plastic bottle. His eyes are shut tight, hand clenched into a fist as he hits his own chest with it, in hopes to relieve all the anguish he has been enduring.
It’s Thursday. Three days have already passed since the outbreak. All the friends he has been fighting zombies with together, his classmates from university, the strangers-turned-comrades—he had witnessed them turn into practically unrecognizable creatures. Had to execute them with his own hands, brutal to Jaeyun’s heart.
With his phone’s battery dead, he had no idea how his family was doing. That and the train of thought that comes with it kills him inside, clearcut. He prays every night that they are already safe and sound in one of the evacuation sites.
The last bottle of water that’s left in his medium-sized sling bag was emptied a few minutes ago. No more supplies left—only his own sore body, his useless phone, and a 24-inch machete that he had mercifully picked up from the ground a while ago. He also decides to keep a handful of cherry blossoms inside his bag, they were his mom’s favorite flower.
Jaeyun is fed up and exhausted. Knowing that he has to survive on his own in a city that’s been flocked by the undead, he isn’t sure what to make out of it.
Let’s just wing this.
It’s something that Jaeyun from a week ago or even Jaeyun from years ago would never say. He had always come prepared for anything, doesn’t matter how trivial it was. Right now though, he really has nothing left to lose.
The warmth of the sun grazes his skin as the clouds shift. He takes that as a cue to start moving again and guess his way to a shelter, or finally find the government’s prepared evacuation site, if he’s lucky enough.
Jaeyun firmly grips on the machete. He practices a few stances for a moment before heading out of the alleyway, his steps light with cautiousness.
He does an A-plus job at not getting bitten by the zombies. Days of experience had paid off.
Jaeyun had slashed a couple of zombies in half and some beheaded with his machete. It was as if his heart had stopped beating longer than it should have when he first cut through a zombie with it, but he progressively improved. A short-range weapon—much different from the crossbow that he had gotten used to in the past few days.
Undeniably, it was easier to move alone, but he misses the assurance of having a friend by his side, the feeling of having someone that he needs to protect. Jaeyun breathes heavily, striving to keep negative thoughts away. The guilt of failing to protect his friends might eat him up alive faster than zombies could get to him.
The blue sky he had resented a while ago has now changed hue to orange. Jaeyun belatedly notices this with his body leaned back against a concrete wall of a seemingly well-built structure. He had been too distracted hiding from zombies.
Making sure that no undead creature was nearby, he relaxes a little and adjusts his position. He finally manages to see what was written on the upper part of the wall he was leaning against. Seonhak International Ice Rink.
Jaeyun tiptoes his way to the building’s glass windows and closely peeks through it. The lights in the lobby are all turned off. But a dim light in one of the hallways grabs his attention.
It would be the perfect place to stay the night as the electricity’s up and working. There’s also bound to be a restroom. Zero zombies walking around the lobby, so it should be safe—or at least, he hopes. The only problem left is how to get in.
A brief wave of relief washes over Jaeyun now that he found a place he could possibly stay in. It quickly goes away as he brushes it off. Call him cruel, but he won’t allow himself to revel in even an iota of joy or luck—not after everything he’s lost for the past few days. He dismisses the ice rink simply as a stopover on his journey to doom.
Hand still tightly clenched on his machete, ready to attack at any moment, Jaeyun circles the building to search for a workable entryway.
LOOK TO YOUR RIGHT
AND CLIMB THE STAIRS
The bold and ragged letters, written with what appears to be a black Sharpie marker, yells at Jaeyun in the face. The sun’s almost down. The writings on the glass windows wouldn’t have been visible if it was already nighttime. He shakes his head and chuckles at that fleeting thought. Luck keeps sticking to him.
No way that a zombie could’ve written or read that, right?
Following the instructions, he finds a step ladder hidden in the near corner of the building. Jaeyun climbs it quickly; the ladder wasn’t too tall, yet not something that could be easily reached at the same time. An entryway welcomes him at the upper end of the stairs—a window that’s more than large enough for a body like his to fit in.
Jaeyun braces for utter pain as he clumsily loses balance upon entering the aperture. He was trying to keep the machete in hand; it unfortunately fell outside, and he fell back first inside the cold lobby.
Oh. It’s soft.
He fell onto a mattress. Jaeyun puts a palm over his chest, trying to calm himself. Whoever set this up thought well. He internally thanks them.
Clutching onto the strap of the sling bag around him, he walks to the dimly lit hallway, heedful of every step as he looks around. Locked doors that he’s too afraid to open pass by. He continues, beginning to wonder about what kind of people he was about to meet. They’re probably nice.
Cool air hits his face. His body shivers inside his already dirt and blood stained white sweatshirt, hands clammy. It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t nervous and scared, especially now with the absence of a weapon. As much as Jaeyun hated to admit it, he didn’t want to die just yet.
The hallway eventually leads him to the ice rink. It was tolerably dark, with only a few spotlights shining on the floor of frozen water. It was bright and numerous enough to illuminate certain parts of the arena. Jaeyun is startled at the crisp sound of scraping on ice.
He walks closer to the rink to get a full view, leaning his hands on and watching through the clear shielding. Jaeyun’s eyes meet the figure of a fair and tall boy, gracefully flying on top of the ice.
The boy is clad in a black and white costume that perfectly fits his physique, a modest number of rhinestones glimmering under the light. He dazzles as he glides with big yet elegant motions. Eyes closed and arms spread wide—embracing the freedom he has on his stage.
It’s a stunning production, even when it’s only the boy, the ice, and the lights alone. A lighthearted smile decorates the lad’s face, so faint that Jaeyun almost misses it.
What used to be the sound of ice being scraped has already been replaced with splendid waltz music in Jaeyun’s ears. The sight before him was entrancing; the apocalypse stays behind his mind—long forgotten. Life looked beautiful.
He ends the performance with a sharp movement of his arm extending towards Jaeyun’s direction, his fingers delicately oriented as his other hand rests by his chest. The distance between them was too far to say that their eyes met...
He catches his mouth agape and dry from the cold and closes it immediately. Jaeyun stays frozen in his spot, unsure whether he should walk towards the figure skater or not. Did he even see him? His eyes shift back to the rink, only to see it already empty.
Moving a few steps up the bleachers, he seizes a distant view of the boy taking off his skates and arranging what Jaeyun assumes to be (he couldn’t see it clear enough) his clothes by the right side of the rink.
Deciding against approaching the boy for now, Jaeyun was about to take a seat when he finally looked up to his way. The other lad raised an arm high and briefly waved it at him before looking back down and starting to arrange his stuff again.
So, the boy did know that he was watching him a while ago. There was a toothy grin on his face when he waved.
Jaeyun carefully makes his way to him, mindful of his steps in the dim arena. The boy’s face brightens up as he acknowledges his presence with a glance.
“Hi,” the tall lad greeted as he zipped his bag close, casual clothes folded neatly on the bench.
“Hey,” Jaeyun’s voice unintentionally came out small. He still wasn’t sure how to absorb the current situation and bombarding the figure skater with questions right away is not an option to him.
Jaeyun takes a seat on the bench when the boy leaves to change clothes and asks him to wait. He sighed and marveled at the sight before him. How could a place like this be so providentially empty at the time of a zombie apocalypse? His body is less tense, the environment is too serene, a new companion by his side—it’s like a dream.
The boy shows up in a brown plaid shirt on top of white tee and sweatpants, sitting beside him. Jaeyun is finally able to take a proper look at his visage.
“My name’s Sunghoon.”
“I’m Jaeyun. I got here through the ladder outside.”
Sunghoon elicits a hum in understanding. “I wrote that days ago. Someone finally got to see it.”
“You’ve been here since Monday? When everything started?”
“Yeah, about that,” he almost appeared hesitant to tell Jaeyun about it, but there’s a suspicious smile on his lips. “This place is closed on Mondays, but I sneak in to practice alone. So…”
Jaeyun furrows his eyebrows at that, head tilted slightly in confusion. “Does that mean you were in here skating alone when everyone was turning into zombies outside?”
Sunghoon nods, lips pursed before he continues.
“There was a zombie pressing itself on the glass window when I was about to leave. Almost scared the life out of me! I thought there was just some sort of Halloween event going on outside—which is odd because it’s April, why would they celebrate Halloween now? But the zombies all started gathering in front of me and they looked so real, so I just stayed here.”
He catches his breath while his hand rests on his chest, realizing that he talked too fast. Jaeyun chuckles softly.
“Sorry, I haven’t talked to anyone in days.”
“No, it’s fine,” Jaeyun reassured. His heart feels lighter than before. “Have you eaten?”
“Oh,” Sunghoon paused and pointed at the rink. “I just melt the ice and drink it.”
Jaeyun’s head quickly turns to look at Sunghoon, eyes wide in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
The other boy returns his surprised gaze, his facial muscles visibly struggling to stifle laughter before he’s finally unable to. It’s as if the sound of Sunghoon’s laugh echoes.
“I’m kidding, Jaeyun. There’s a snack store in the lobby.”
“What the hell,” Jaeyun buried his head in his hands, embarrassed. He also couldn’t help laughing at himself for almost believing an obvious lie. “It’s the lack of sleep, I swear.”
“You can sleep here later,” Sunghoon waited for their laughter to die down before he spoke again. “How have the past few days been for you?”
“I was at university on Monday,” Jaeyun answered after taking his time to think about the best response to summarize everything. He didn’t want to get into too much detail. “Fought zombies, lost friends, and ended up here.”
An unwelcome lump forms on his throat. There was complete silence for what felt like a minute.
“I’m glad that you’re here,” is all that Sunghoon said in response, but tears began to well up in Jaeyun’s eyes.
No longer able to hold back the tears that have been weighing inside of him for days, they began to streak down his cheeks. The suppressed tears that had been gradually tightening his chest. Only Jaeyun's quiet sobs could be heard inside the empty arena. Sunghoon stayed hushed next to him, giving him the time that he needed to let it all out as he stood up and left.
Everything that happened flashed back in his memory as he cried. He remembered every single one of the friends he lost, his family. He takes this moment to pray for them, and Jaeyun hopes for the heavy feeling to fall away with his tears.
A towel and a bottle of water is handed to him by Sunghoon. Jaeyun takes them and composes himself.
“Thanks, and sorry,” Jaeyun sniffled as he twisted the cap of the bottle.
“Don’t be sorry,” Sunghoon said gently. “I don’t think I can even begin to imagine how tough it must have been for you.”
Sunghoon recommended that he wash himself up in the restroom as he got him a new sweatshirt from the souvenir shop. Jaeyun arrives at one of the locker rooms clean and sees that Sunghoon had already set down the mattress he landed on earlier. Two smoking cups of instant noodles were also waiting on top of the bench at one side of the room.
“Feeling better?” Sunghoon inquired upon seeing him by the door.
“Mm,” Jaeyun timidly replied, he hopes he isn’t too much of a burden to the other boy. “Thank you, Sunghoon. I really appreciate your help.”
“I cooked dinner! Come.”
Sunghoon comfortably settled himself down the mat on the floor, the bench serving as the table. Jaeyun walks to him and does the same, inhaling the scent of the instant meal. It’s his favorite brand.
“You cooked,” Jaeyun quizzed teasingly.
“I added boiling water to it, alright. That’s still a part of cooking.”
Defensively, Sunghoon separates his chopsticks with a pout on his lips. Jaeyun chuckles at that, satisfied with the other boy’s reaction. He’s cute.
“Whatever you say,” Jaeyun sing-songed as he mixes the noodles with his chopsticks.
They begin to have their meal, both quite starving, especially Jaeyun who hasn’t had a proper meal since Monday. Asking each other simple questions in between bites, they discover some facts, like how they’re both the same age, both attending the same university. Episodes were exchanged.
The room eventually falls peaceful with only the sound of noodle slurping filling it. Jaeyun is reminded of his room at home. He also used to slump on the floor a lot, eating a warm cup of noodles while watching a movie on his TV—a rewarding activity after a complicated homework.
Which is why this moment is familiar and comfortable to him. The absence of the movie is effortlessly replaced by Sunghoon’s cozy presence.
“Jaeyun,” Sunghoon finished his cup before speaking. “Are the cherry blossoms pretty this year? I saw them falling this morning.”
“They’re always pretty every year.”
“Even with the zombies?”
He pauses and gives it a thought. “Yeah, thinking about it now, it’s like they’re there to tell you to have hope that things will be pretty again. Because cherry blossoms come back and blossom every year.”
Sunghoon fondly watches and smiles at Jaeyun, who was busy emptying his own cup of noodles. Pretty words coming from a pretty boy. He’s genuinely glad to see him feeling better now, even when they were complete strangers to each other two hours ago.
“What a waste, I can’t even go outside to admire them,” Sunghoon lies down flat on the mat and stretches—which Jaeyun quickly nags at, telling him that it’s bad to lie down right after eating. He clears away the cups and chopsticks for the both of them. Sunghoon just whines and remains lying.
Jaeyun is reminded of the handful of cherry blossoms in his sling bag, so he wears it and returns to the bench. He initially planned to give the flowers to his mom once they finally meet again.
He climbs and stands on top of the bench that they ate on, and Sunghoon just watches him, trusting Jaeyun enough to not do anything harmful, although confusion is evident on his face.
An excited beam graces Jaeyun’s lips, his eyes sparkling with what he has in mind. He inserts both of his hands inside the sling bag to load his palms with cherry blossoms. After glancing at Sunghoon to make sure that he’s paying attention, Jaeyun extends his arms high and drizzles him with the pink flowers, a small ‘whoosh’ sound slipping past his protruding lips.
Some of the cherry blossoms were whole, the others torn into petals—it was a mesmerizing sight and feeling, nonetheless. Sunghoon’s smile is wide and radiant. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but this one was beyond unpredictable to him. One of the flowers gently falls on the side of his nose. He takes it and sits up.
“Why do you have these?”
Wonder leaks out of Sunghoon’s eyes as he fixes his gaze at the flower on his hand. Jaeyun giggles as he gets off the bench and sits next to him. He looks like he’s seeing a cherry blossom up close for the first time in his life.
“Just because.”
“You’re pretty sweet,” Sunghoon commented, meeting Jaeyun’s eyes. There’s a small smile on his lips, one eyebrow slightly raised. Jaeyun can’t tell if he’s teasing or being genuine, yet the intense gaze still flusters him.
“Huh,” Jaeyun’s voice is soft. He simply looked away and removed his bag. “No.”
Sunghoon notices his sudden shyness and just smiles to himself, focusing back on the flower once again. “Thank you, Jaeyun. I like cherry blossoms. So much. I have a lot of good memories attached to it.”
“You’re welcome,” he replied. What used to be a heavy feeling in Jaeyun’s chest has already been replaced with relief, and he finds kindness in himself to wish that it would last forever.
He had asked Sunghoon if it was alright to try ice skating. The last time Jaeyun was inside an ice skating rink was when he was 10 years old, and Sunghoon was thrilled and more than willing to come with him. Jaeyun’s body was aching, and the mattress looked so attractive, but he terribly missed having fun while not having any zombies to worry about.
“The ballroom is all ours,” Sunghoon enunciated like royalty as he slowly slid away from the rink’s entryway. His hands extended to Jaeyun. “May I have this dance?”
Jaeyun is left standing beside the entryway like an awkward baby penguin. Sunghoon just watches, adores him, even.
“Are you kidding me,” Jaeyun deadpanned.
The smoothness of gliding on the ice was already unfamiliar to Jaeyun, so he struggled at first. Sunghoon was there to guide him and hold his hand until he got used to it—which came rather quick.
They spent a good 30 minutes playing around the rink. The most fun that Jaeyun has had in a while, although he couldn’t count how many times he called the other boy out for being too fast or unfair.
Jaeyun wishes that Sunghoon is well, that he doesn't have too many worries inside his mind. The boy has been smiling nonstop and has been aiding him with everything since his arrival. He couldn’t be more grateful for the comfort that his presence has given him. Sunghoon gave him hope.
He doesn’t know what Sunghoon’s story is because it might be too early to ask about it. What Jaeyun does know is that another person has been added to his prayers. One that he’s largely desperate for. Jaeyun also prays that he gains enough strength to give back the hope that Sunghoon has offered him arms wide.
The two boys lie back first on the mattress. It was big enough to fit both of them with their arms sticking next to each other.
“Sunghoon.”
“Yes?”
“I enjoyed your performance earlier.”
“Mm, I’m glad the one and only spectator liked my final performance.”
“Final?” Jaeyun repeated, unsure if he heard it right. He adjusted his position so that he’s facing Sunghoon to his right. The boy was an amazing figure skater. A final performance at such a young age doesn’t make sense.
“I was already planning to head out tomorrow. I can’t simply stay here forever and just wait for rescue,” Sunghoon began to explain, turning to his left and facing Jaeyun. “But you came.”
Jaeyun frowns. “So, you were assuming you would no longer be able to perform again after heading out?”
“Precisely.”
“You won’t die.”
“You wouldn’t know that.”
The crumple between Jaeyun’s eyebrows tightens and Sunghoon laughs, reaching out his hand to gently smoothen it with his fingers.
“Don’t think about it too much. Whatever will be, will be. And we’ll be fine.”
“I’ll protect you,” Jaeyun declared, determination laced his voice. “I slashed zombies on my way here.”
“Okay.”
“That’s not your last performance.”
He hums in agreement. “I’ll perform for you when the cherry blossoms come back.”
Jaeyun understood what Sunghoon meant and offered a weak smile, already drowsy.
“Thank you. Good night, Sunghoon.”
“Sleep well tonight, Jaeyun.”