The rest of the school year was uneventful; Aera continued to be manipulated by her classmates, and I continued to ghost beneath the radar. But on the weekends, Aera and I began to spend time together; mostly at my house, where my grandfather happily welcomed any companionship into my life. But once a month, we would journey to another town, sometimes into Seoul itself, and we would spend time together. We never spoke about what we were: friends, lovers, somewhere in-between. I didn’t really mind either, as long as these moments got to continue, then I didn’t mind whatever label she chose to use in her head, or whatever place she wanted to take it. Because these days were the only days where I felt, in my heart, that I might actually be alive still.
I began trying again in Tae Kwon Do, no longer throwing matches and desperately trying to become someone strong. Within months, I was once again the strongest human member of the club, and within a year, I was consistently beating opponents who had pretty strong natural advantages on me. Something in my mind had shifted, a single minded focus; I remembered Oldboy, and the lengths Oh Dae-su went through to protect the woman he loved. I thought of Aera, and her soft features, and delicate frame, and knew that whether it be a bully in school, or a murderer on the streets, I would want to be able to do anything in my power to protect the last spark of happiness in my life. The only problem was the muscular definition I was developing, but that was unavoidable; the impossible dream would have to die so the possible dream could live.
I knew scientifically, I could be prescribed hormones and undergo surgeries to look more like how I wanted, but to be honest, the way I wanted to look changed so often, and I was so deeply uncomfortable with the idea of telling my grandfather, let alone the world, that I was different in some way. Unfortunately, though the magic of the Othersiders was powerful, the price for transforming the human body was not only outrageously expensive, it was not entirely paid in cash. Neither of these routes seemed feasible, and so I chose the path of least resistance, the one my mother set me on and told me to walk all those years ago.
Soon enough, the senior year of high school was already halfway over. My nameless relationship had become something else; soft kisses exchanged in dark alleyways, held hands walking side-by-side down the street. I felt a semblance of joy seeing her face in the school hallways, a light spark of warmth that kindled my soul. I had begun to open up again at school, and people started to welcome me into their folds; this was something Aera did not like. She would scold me in private when I spoke to other folks, accusing me of flirting or abandoning her. So I shut that down immediately, and went back to being a recluse; anything for Aera’s sake.
There was a boy who simply wouldn’t let me go back to being invisible though. His name was Joon-hu, a taller, athletic guy who dabbled in every extracurricular activity a little bit, from student council to cross-country. He seemed kind enough, but the days where he spoke to me were days when Aera became especially hostile towards me, and so I began to negatively associate him. Not wanting to start drama, however, I remained cold and distant, and decided to keep things at that. One day, he asked me if I could show him some Tae Kwon Do, as I had mentioned my activity in passing when I had started to blossom a bit. I asked him how he wanted me to show him, and he asked to spar.
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Joon-hu was well-known to be a great fighter at our school, and so I became a little nervous at the suggestion; I had seen him fight, and knew I could win, but also knew that if I did win, the attention would come full-circle. “I don’t really like fighting outside of my comfort zones,” I replied, trying to get him to back down. There was no winning that situation, and so I decided to bow out before things became any more dire. Unfortunately for me, most of our homeroom class overheard the challenge, and they flocked to the request, enamored with the opportunity to see the mysterious challenger face their grand champion. I wanted to see Aera, to ask her what she thought and what she wanted; almost as if my prayers were answered, I looked up and saw her looking at me through some of our fellow classmates. All she did was nod a simple yes.
When she spoke to me before the fight, she told me only one thing: “don’t hold back.” I was afraid of her request. I had told her everything I thought, and all I was capable of; didn’t she know that by not holding back, I could hurt this poor boy? But then my brain put two and two together, and I understood: she wanted me to hurt him, to set an example for all who saw me as a potential friend. That I was not someone to be close to. I laughed a wry laugh; how very Aera of her. I walked into the sparring room, where much of the class had gathered, and where Joon-hu awaited, a smile on his face. I smiled in return, much like I imagine a doll’s smile looks being painted on over another doll’s face. When the fight began, it only took three hits: he threw a loose low kick, I punished by sweeping his other leg, and before he hit the ground, I punched him in the chest as hard as I could, slamming him to the ground.
The crowd was silent; Joon-hu sputtered and coughed. I knelt next to him to guide some breaths back into him, and then left as quietly as I entered, headed directly home. Aera messaged me a simply smiley face that night, which I took as a sign of success. The next day, in class, no one said a word to me, and Joon-hu kept his distance. The plan had worked perfectly. That weekend, Aera beamed ear to ear as she told me how happy she was with me. She told me, for the first time, that her plan was to follow me home to New York, and to get a degree at an art school there, to stay by my side. That night, while my grandfather had fallen asleep on the couch watching old Kurosawa films, she and I made love for the first time.
When she fell asleep in my arms, I reflected on the feeling of her, and the sight of her. I thought of her beautiful face, and her angelic little voice. I felt jealousy firing through my mind. I thought of my own body: this ridiculous, muscular, V-shaped torso, these large hands, this wide jaw, this prominent nose, these skinny hips, this disgusting, misshapen phallus. Every part of her was beautiful; every part of me was hideous. This moment was supposed to be a cornerstone of my life, a beautiful memory I took with me across the River Styx. Now, with this hideous figure I was ashamed to call my own, I remembered every touch as a violation, and every pleasure as a sin. I watched Aera sleep peacefully the whole night, knowing in my heart that I was the problem.
