It’s quiet. Even if the snores of hung-over soldiers harmonized with the slight ruffling of blankets was far from silent, it was still quiet. It would be easy to imagine the early morning as a quilt which muffled each and every sound - at least, the military-issued blankets would have an extra layer of warmth over them. But I guess we’ll never have to crawl out of military blankets again... Isn’t that right, Yunho?

I clutched Yunho’s latest letter to my chest. It’ll be his last letter to me I suppose, but the promise of reunion far outweighed the promise of communication. After all, today is the day that both Yunho and I officially finish our term with the military. 

I sat up carefully, making sure not to bump my head on the bunk above me as I have countless times before. I would have never got out of my bed willingly on a regular day, but the shift in position was necessary to catch the little light which streamed in from the window. Carefully, I slipped the letter out of its envelope to reassess its contents:

April 18, 2011

Dear Jaejoong,

I have so much to tell you and so many regrets to share, but we can finally clear up our messed up relationship face to face. Let’s meet at Dongjak-gu cemetery. I have a close relative that I think we should both pay our respects to there.  If you tell a grave keeper you need to see Jung Yunho, I’m sure you’ll find the grave which I’ll be waiting at.

Oh Yunho, when we left society, our goodbyes to Korea were made in a silent, drunken stupor. And now, will our greeting to Korea be an equally silent, solemn affair? Is the cemetery truly the place you wish to hold the reunion of a starving friendship?

Yet, it was only two years ago that we were inseparable.  You and I, we were scared that last night. You’d slap me right now if I said that though. I guess it was me who had crept out of my bed in order to disturb my fellow soldier-to-be’s slumber, after all.

It sounded like the other soldiers started to wake as well. They called to each other in order to voice their last thoughts: a thank you, some good natured insults, and many goodbyes. But in the end, this last morning past just as all the other mornings do. 

While most soldiers head straight to the home they had left two years ago, I head straight to the cemetery. But two years ago I left my home with Yunho, so by meeting him, I too will be returning home.

The gate of the cemetery was very much like a temple. Though I say gate, there was no barrier preventing anyone from entering the holy grounds. If I remember correctly, this cemetery was exclusively used for soldiers who had fought in the Korean War, but now, it was open any Korean who had passed away after serving their country. Yunho had decided to meet me at the grave of policemen, generals, and even a couple presidents. This should be interesting.

It was more difficult to find the grave keeper then I thought. But finally, I approached an elderly man and asked him about Jung Yunho.

The grave keeper was surprisingly excited in his response: “Ah! Yes, I was told that you would be coming. Come follow me.” I obliged willingly. Following the man was more difficult than I would have thought. Though old, it was obvious that the grave keeper was still very agile.

“I have to be. You see boy, these men here laid there life for the Korea that both you and I live in today. It is the least I can do to take care of them now that they have given their life to Korea as well,” replied the old man with a light chuckle.

Perhaps this was what Yunho wished me to come here for, maybe Yunho wanted to teach me that though we have left the army now, we are still in debt to the hundreds upon hundreds of men that laid down their lives for this nation. But where is Yunho? The grounds of the cemetery were relatively flat, so it should not be difficult to spot him. However, the old man was leading me back to the gate.

The grave keeper motioned me to wait for a moment as he entered a building beside the gate. “You must be confused,” the grave keeper began as he returned with a parcel in his hands, “you see, I was asked to give this to you once be you left the cemetery.  But the truth is, I wanted to leave a little bit earlier today. You’ll find Jung Yunho if you continue on the left path here. If you see the path splitting, you’ve gone too far.”

The old man bustled away just as he had come, and soon enough he was gone. I might as well have not spoken to him at all, but there was this package in my hands to prove that he was indeed here moments before. The parcel itself was wrapped in a brown envelope, and tied closed with a fisherman’s string in a careful, elegant knot. The package puzzled me.

But as far as I cared, a parcel was meant to be open - so might as well open it now rather than later.I gently pulled the string and watched as the whole parcel opened up to me. But make no mistake, the parcel’s mystery only became more confusing.

In the envelope was nothing other than letters. And not just one or two letters, but many letters. White envelopes fell from the parcel and littered the ground just as snow falls from the sky. Of course, snow at this time of year would be a miracle while these letters were a curse.

I bent down to the ground and picked up an envelope with quivering hands. I am probably mistaken. I must be mistaken. I need to be mistaken for the sake of my sanity.

These letters are the one I wrote to Yunho.

I tore open the envelope in my hands desperately trying to prove myself wrong.  But alas, it was the same letter I wrote long ago.

March 06, 2010

Yunho please! I, I can’t stand being alone anymore. I need you Yunho, the life of soldier isn’t the life for me. You know that, we all know that, right? So why won’t you refuse your promotion so we can stay together? You can do that, right? I just, I am so lost without you.

I opened a second letter.

June 18, 2010

I know this apology is long overdue, Yunho, but I know that I have to do it. I’m sorry for being so upset when you decided to accept that promotion. The truth is, I was just afraid to see how much better than me that you have become, and I looked at you and could only see you going away. But I was acting childish, and I just want to wish you all the best.

A fourth, a fifth.

January 02, 2011

Yunho, you useless scumbag!

Happy Birthday! Jeez, here I am wishing you happy birthday when you didn’t even remember mine you idiot….

November 24, 2010

Hey Yunho,

I took your advice from your last letter. Turned out pretty dam helpful. Instead of making a friend, I made an enemy. I think this guy has had a grudge on you for beating all of his obstacle course times and is taking it out on me, but, I think….

What is the meaning of this? These are the letters I sent him when I felt like I needed support. So why is Yunho returning them all to me? Each and every one of these letters he replied back encouraging me, supporting me, giving me advice, so if he was giving them back, did that mean he wanted to severe our connection?  Was he trying to tell me that though he might have supported me in the past, but I should deal with my own problems from now on?

I gathered the letters and torn envelopes from the ground and stuffed them in what little space my bag had left. Many of the letters had no room what so ever, so I just clutched them tightly in my hands. I can always throw them into Yunho’s face if he pulls some stupid, sophisticated stunt.

Trying to stop any letter from spilling out of my bag, I set down the path the old man at the fastest pace I could manage: a powerwalk. But soon enough I saw the split in the path that the old man had the grave keeper had warned me about. But Yunho was nowhere in sight.

Dammit, where was he? Why call me out to a cemetery, give me back all my letters, and just disappear without a word?

“Yunho, you bastard! Where the hell are you?”  I mumbled as I chucked all the letters in my hand onto the floor.

To my surprise, a stern, soprano voice answered my call, “Look who’s talking, Jaejoong. Yunho isn’t the one running his mouth on sacred grounds.”

I turned to see the young woman who had called to me. Her face was framed by straight, black hair that ran down her neck rest above her chest. Though she had a delicate-looking frame, there was strength in her eyes that couldn’t be ignored.

But her eyes softened for a moment before speaking to me again.

“Jaejoong, why don’t you take a look behind me? It’s why I called you out here after all.”

 I wanted to ask her how she knew my name. I thought about telling her to mind her own business and just keep going. Maybe I would have - if my eyes did not flicker to the memorial stone behind her.

Jung Yunho

January 06, 1985 – April 04, 2010

Wait.

“I’m sorry Miss. You obviously think you know me, and for a minute, I thought you knew me too. But this Yunho isn’t the same Jung Yunho I knew. I received a letter from Yunho just a few days ago.  So there is no way my Jung Yunho passed away last year.”

She met my eyes before replying in a sympathetic voice, “Jaejoong. Kim Jaejoong. Jung Yunho, your roommate from two years ago and your best friend died last year. He didn’t write you a letter. He hasn’t written you anything from the past year.”

What was she trying to tell me? That I’m insane? There is now way that Yunho is dead. I have written proof!

“Maybe I intruded on your personal life but, when I read your angry letter to Yunho and then soon after received a letter of apology, I thought that I couldn’t leave you be. You see, I’m Yunho’s sister. And, and- I just didn’t want anyone else to feel the pain of his loss. Especially somebody who was already going through so much! I thought it might be better if I could support you by pretending to be Yunho and then once your term with the military was finished, I would tell you the truth. I’m sorry! I just, I just didn’t want you to feel the way I did then.” the girl rambled through her explanation.

But the more she talked the more I felt my world was closing in. And her voice just could not compete with the morning’s muffling blanket.

“Thank you. You may leave now,” I interrupted.

She croaked out a last whimper before turning back towards the gate of the cemetery.

Soon the quilt of silence had taken over. In the place of sound was only silence. And in place of the cemetery was just Yunho’s gravestone.

My hand ventured forward. The tips of my fingers traced the engraved letters of Yunho’s name.

I guess it’s just you and me again, Yunho.