first love theory - niki enhyphen

next door

As a child life was simple. Growing up in Seoul meant nothing was every truly permanent. Neighbours came and went, meaning friends came and went. That's all it really takes at that age. 

When they first moved in, our mom took us downstairs to play. Jaeyun was chasing me through the playground holding a cicada that had seen better days, I of course was terrified. We were screaming and shouting as kids do, not really caring about who we bother but luckily for us that was the norm for our apartment complex. 

Most of the other residents also had younger children so we spent most of our summers hanging out at the playground next to our building. I don't notice him at first, sat under the cherry blossom tree, but I found out later that he definitely noticed me, we'll get to that. 

After a few minutes of running away from my terror of an older brother holding this dead bug I admit defeat and go to tell on him to our mother, who is sat with another middle aged woman on a bench just chatting. She wipes my crocodile tears and calls Jaeyun over to lecture him about how he is 2 years my senior and needs to protect me, not terrorise me. That's when I am introduced to the Nishimuras. 

Mrs. Nishimura, his mother, was slim and put together, her hair was always done and she often wore a long skirt or dress. That's all I really noticed as a child, pretty hair and pretty dresses. She spoke Korean well but with a slight japanese accent, not noticeable enough but still there. After being forced to introduce ourselves by our mother, Mrs. Nishimura called over her son.

At first impressions, his hair was long enough to cover his eyes when it wasn't pushed back but not long enough to be tied. Despite the warm weather of early may, he wore a long sleeved shirt and shorts. At this time he was still smaller than me, his demeanor was small as well. Timid but not shy. My brother introduced himself first.

"I'm Sim Jaeyun, but call me Jake" He said confidently, recently being given an english name by our language tutor. My mother shuts it down immediately. 

"Don't listen to him Riki, just Jaeyun is fine" She smiles through her stern tone, quite clearly aimed at my brother without addressing him directly. She then nudges me to follow.

"Sim Seoah."

"Nishimura Riki." 

"I'll call you Niki." And before my mother could protest, he nodded and we went off to play.

From that moment on we were inseparable. That summer, no matter what we did, it was together. Be it homework, eating, playing, even sometimes sleeping. It was always me and Niki. I can't tell you why I decided to call him Niki, but that was one of the best decisions I had made to date. 

I was the only one who called him, and the only one who was allowed. Jaeyun tried a few times and was immediately shut down. It felt like a special secret between us, something that only made sense to us. Mrs. Nishimura didn't mind, she found it cute actually. 

When it hit time for school, Niki had enrolled into my elementary school, and by pure coincidence, he was in my class. For that whole year, we spent every moment of the school day from leaving the house to when we had to go to sleep together. We would alternate where we would eat dinner, mine or his, with neither of our mothers minding too much. 

In my youth my mother was a teacher at our elementary school so she would take us to and from school and be off with us on the weekends. Mrs. Nishimura's only job was to take care of her son. In my early life my mother was also a stay at home carer for us and Jaeyun but that all changed when I turned six, and he turned 8. Once dad got sick, mom had to go back to work as a teacher. It was hard in the beginning without him at home, but by the time he had passed it had been almost a year of him not at home so unfortunately we were somewhat used to it. 

Niki also lived without his father so we bonded over that. His dad worked a lot so was never really home but it seemed normal for them. I remember the first time I asked like it was yesterday.

We were walking home from school, the year before we were due to start middle school. By this time we were allowed to go home alone, we would often in the warmer months go to buy ice cream with our small allowance and in the winter get some warm soy milk. To this day it is one of my biggest comforts when it's cold out. 

I don't remember the exact day but it was near Niki's birthday. He was just about to turn 11. We had went to get our daily soymilk, with the ahjumma serving us making it extra sweet for me and less sweet for him. Even as a child he had an adults tastebuds.

"Does that not make your teeth hurt?" He asked as we walked, warm cups in our hands. I just shook my head and took another sip. 

"I can't walk home with you tomorrow, we're going to see dad" I say simply, it didn't really hurt anymore but was more a fact of life. Niki understood and never really made it more than what it was. He's always been more emotionally mature. 

We walk in silence for a few minutes before reaching the playground near our building. That was another part of our routine, no matter the weather, you could find us on the swings. His was the left and mine the right. I think he also liked the right swing but he would never say it. As we sat I had this realisation, I had never considered it before but where is Niki's dad. I decided to bite the bullet and ask. 

"You don't have to answer but, why don't you talk about your dad?" I look at the cup of no longer steaming soymilk in my gloved hands, not daring to make eyecontact. Even as a child I was direct but eyecontact was never my thing. 

He waits for a brief moment, I can only assume to find the right words.

"There's not much to say." 

Later that night I decided to ask my mom. As she was turning off my bedroom light I made my move.

"Mom, where's Mr. Nishimura?" She waits for a moment, just like he did. 

"Well honey he works a lot so he stays near his office."

"Then why is Niki here?" She shrugs and turns to leave.

"I think that's a conversation you should have with him when you're older."

We wouldn't get to have that conversation.