Gold Dust || JJK

57 - Pied Piper

Then, we have my favorite couple. They are always too early, so she can choose whatever sweets she wants to eat from the vending machine. She's snacking a lot, but chocolate bars are her weakness. Her hair is brown, worn in a pixie cut, simple and boyish-like, but garnished with colorful pins and clamps, most of them heart-shaped, giving her the feminine look the hairstyle steals from her. She spends the mornings scrolling through her phone and munching her candies, whereas he, the boyfriend, swallows on her every move. His eyes are her property. He won't look at anything else besides her. Makes me question how can he even walk when his gaze is permanently on her, reminding me of someone I used to know.

This is my new community.

We see each other so often we begin smiling when arriving on the platform. We won't say hi. Just a quiet nod of the head or a shy grin. Except for the punk-rock guy. He would always sit next to me and swear a little, brushing his sweat away with the back of his hand and wishing me a great day.

"Cute," Jin states honestly and smiles. I know he means it. He likes to keep things as simple as possible and that's the first thing I love about him. Won't ever overload people with more words than necessary.

Which reminds me...

"So... any new words for today?" I anxiously ask and look at him.

He tilts his head to a side, giving me a flat scowl, "We will do this. Doesn't matter to me if it's now or in two hours. I am free the whole day. Remember that."

"I know, I know," I rub my hands on my thighs to get rid of the sweat and grab the steering wheel with shaky moves, "I need a word before I start."

"Let's see," his fingers go under his chin and he looks at the grey sky through the windshield for a couple of minutes. "Ah. Perfect." He claps his hands and I flinch, "Wabi-sabi."

My mouth opens to speak but no word comes out. I misheard it probably. Then, I open it again to try my luck, "Sorry. Did you mean... wasabi?"

When he laughs, I feel stupid and my eyebrows frown. But the way his eyes close when doing it reminds me of Hobi, my Hobi. God, how much I miss him.

"It's not wasabi, is it?" I join him and we laugh together.

"No, no, not at all." He continues giggling, "Wabi-sabi. Finding beauty within the imperfections of life and accepting the natural cycle of growth and decay."

"Acceptance..." I whisper to myself, looking ahead of me.

"Could roughly be summarized to acceptance if you really want to, yes."

That's a damn challenge. Accepting growth? Fine. But decay? Deterioration? Corrosion?

I learned that there are not three stages of grief as I thought, but five. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression and acceptance. Denial began when my relationship ended, and lasted until I moved to Japan. Two weeks.