Entres Nous

Two Months Later

There were many things she had grown to love through her stay in South Korea. The food was always delicious, just as long as she made sure Yura wasn’t playing a prank on her, something which Chan grew to find would happen often when living with a girl who loved jokes. The people were always sweet just as long as she stayed away from crazy stans who followed MBLAQ around, throwing things at the coordi noonas as they marked their territory. The city was always friendly, sure, as long as you watched out for trucks and cars that don’t even bother beeping their honk, instead letting you know to move the hell out of the way by mowing you down.

But if there was one thing she truly loved and had no faults was the scenery.

She dipped her paint in the grey and blue mix she had created, using her other hand to wrap her scarf tighter around her neck once the cold air hit, the sun shining brightly about her head.

No one said being an artist would be easy.

Chan had been standing on the apartment’s rooftop for over and hour now, in the middle of winter. Some might call her crazy but this was the only way she would get a good view of the city, according to Yura. And if Yura knew something, she knew art. The redhead would skip up the stairs with her sketchbook and her blanket she fondly shortened to ‘blanky’ during her free days and stay up there for hours, not speaking to a soul. Eventually she got Chan into it, much to the Guatemalan’s dismay.

Her fear of heights had lessened a lot throughout the years, but it still hadn’t completely faded, so instead of standing near the edge she stood closer towards the door, making sure to have a good view of it just in case.

“Yo,”

She looked back, glancing at Yura who was wrapped in her blanky, letting the door close behind her as she walked over, and sitting down besides her standing figure. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Chan continued to fill in the skyscraper, lining it with detail.

“Freezing to death?”

“Very funny.”

Yura smiled, breathing into her hands as she rubbed them together, her eyes peering out into the lazy afternoon sky. Chan glanced down at her for a second then back at her painting. The redhead and her had become good friend over the past two months, but even when Yura always kept an interest in Chan’s life and comforted her when she felt homesick, Chan still couldn’t exactly get close. She could get close in a way where Yura could crawl on her lap and Chan would rub her head like a pet, but she just couldn’t manage to get emotional with her.

Even though her curiosity was begging her and clawing at her stomach, she still couldn’t ask her about Seungho. Even when the redhead and her had encountered them at the park when taking Totoro out for a walk. Even after they sang a duet during a music show she had to painfully watch.  Even then…

“How’d it go with Thunder?”

Yura had given the day off to Chan so she could chill around while she went to an individual photoshoot with Thunder, leaving early in the morning and barely coming back now. “It went really great. It’s good that he’s being requested so much lately. Plus we got to talk after, something which I had been missing. After we finished the photoshoot we got some coffee and pastries.” The ebony-haired girl looked down at her. “Yes, I brought you some.” She went back to her painting. 

“You guys are really good friends huh?”

  “You could say so.” Yura paused. “He was the one who gave me hope when I first arrived.”

  Chan stopped painting, instead walking over and setting herself next to her. “Gave you hope?”

  The redhead smiled. “I never told you how I got to Seoul huh?”

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her legs.

“My family gave me a lot of options when I left high school. I was going through severe depression and anxiety. I didn’t feel ready for college so they gave different things I could choose from.” She licked her lips. “I chose working for a semester at Barnes & Nobles and as soon as that was over my dad paid for a short six-month gap year in Japan.” She let her chin rest against her knees. “I thought I could stay there forever.”

Chan turned her head towards her, frowning. “What happened?”

“I had to go back and I just didn’t want to.” Yura stretched out her arms into the sky, letting out a feeble moan. “The night before I had to go back my host family threw me a party that probably went on to one in the morning. We were all exhausted and tired, and as soon I slipped into bed I realized I didn’t want to go. I missed my mom and my family, but my homesickness had left me long ago.”

“I had changed too much. I had lost so much weight, my hair had grown an intense amount, my skin had even changed for the better... And I was stronger than ever. I thought that this would fade away as soon as I stepped into the States. But I knew that I couldn’t stay with my host family forever. It would be too hard to ask them. So I did something... some might call stupid.”

The consequences hadn’t come to her until three hours after she had started riding the night train, one of her arms hugging her baby pink backpack junked with an assortment of clothes, socks, toothpaste, toothbrush, white hair comb, taped-up wallet, and sticker-covered phone that she had bunched together in a hurry her eyes just set on the pale blue, front door.

Her host family was probably still sleeping, it being five thirty in the morning, and she could only pray they would stay that way until she at least got three fourths of the way to Sapporo. Seventeen hours in a train wasn’t an easy ride. She pulled her thin blanket over her chin as her grip tightened around her iTouch she had yet to turn on, even though she had been carrying it in her hand since the beginning of the ride. Her eyes closed, but not completely.

They would freak out, that was for sure. Even when she had been sure to leave a letter on the kitchen table, and a text message in her foster sister’s cell, they would be completely frenetic. As much as she hated worrying them that wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. What would be though was when her father found out. Or even her mom. She had saved a draft in her phone, planning on sending the email to her mother once she found somewhere steady but how long would that even take? It wasn’t like she was crapping out money; she hardly had enough to last a week, and that was if she rented a room in a really cheap hotel and only fed on candy bars.

As soon as she got to Sapporo she had to go beg for a job. But a foreigner who could hardly hold a conversation in Japanese, much less understand enough to respond back?

She closed her eyes.

Yura might as well enjoy the comfort of her cramped up couchette she had to share with four snoring women.

She might just have to resort to sleeping under a bench very soon.



The water hit her face like cold stones, her lungs taking a deep breath as her arms shook over the sink. Her newly blonde hair was matted all over her face, her tips swimming in the water as she pulled them out. She didn’t figure it would take this long to re-dye it into a new color, but the only thing available aside from the small sink was the toilet. She took the cleaner option.

It had been her luck that the closest restaurant to the train station had let them use their restroom to dye her hair, change her clothes, and clean up a bit, just as long as she ate lunch from their menu first. It was the best deal she could possibly afford.

She had to work quickly now that it was a bright new day, her host family probably in the fritz about her silent goodbye. As soon as she had woken up she noticed eighteen missed calls in her cellphone, all from different people, including the woman who had organized the gap year all together. She had immediately taken out the battery, stuffing it at the very bottom of her backpack and not glancing it again. It would make even more antsy.

Her fingers twisted her colored locks, squeezing every drop of water out and curling it on top of her head into a bun, quickly tying it together with a hairband. She slipped on her white, knitted, short poncho over her plain tank top, fixing her shorts and stuffing everything back into her backpack before looking at herself once more in the mirror.

All she could do was hope that she would be okay.



She didn’t spy him at first, her tight hairdo giving her a headache, her eyes set to the ground as she undid the bun letting it trail down her back. She swung her head forward, shaking it a little bit as she flipped it back, her fingers undoing knots. So much for that.

It only took her a matter of seconds to find the tall dark-haired boy pacing back and forth through the long, empty alley she had been walking in, his face casted downward, straight at his feet. She felt like turning around and walking away before he noticed her, but something in her told her it would be a shame if she did. Back in Mexico even throughout thousands of scams and deaths her trust in people never died. She didn’t want that to change.

“You’re going to get raped with that mentality.” Chan popped in, patting her calfs.

“Shush and listen to the story.”

“Ah, sumimasen! (Oh, excuse me!)” She called out, catching his attention. A little jolt in her stomach told her he wasn’t Japanese, but it was too late to change languages. “Otetsudai shimashouka? (Can I help you?)”

His face lit up, his hands stretching out to her as he held onto her shoulders. “Foreigner. You know english right?”

Well this was unexpected.

“Uh, yeah, I do.” She glanced around. Was she getting punked?

“You speak Japanese too?”

She nodded. “I’m not exactly fluent, but I can get by, sure.”

“Do you mind helping me out?” His eyes were full of legit hope, a small spark in his dark brown irises. “Please?”

Yura grabbed his wrists, gently slipping them off her shoulders, his face breaking into a frown. “I’ll help you.” She smiled. Before she could protest he hugged her, something in her sighing in enjoyment as she felt his muscles wrap around her waist. This is the definitely the reality she wanted. But not now.

“I need to get to Kitara within the next forty minutes. I didn’t only forget my phone but I wasted my money on the subway here and I’m just really lost and scared and I really need to get to Kitara or I might be killed.” He groaned. “I’m serious.”

“Okay, okay.” She licked her lips. She certainly could use her phone’s GPS, but that would mean placing back the battery and watching her phone fill with worried messages and emails. No, she just wasn’t ready for that yet. “First of all we have to figure out where we are.”

“Wait,” He scowled. “You don’t know where we are?”

“I do, I do! We’re in Sapporo...”

He groaned. “How did you get here if you don’t know where you are?”

“I don’t know, I started walking... and... I know we’re in Sapporo okay, don’t you dare judge me boy, you’re as lost as I am.”

He raked his hair back. “If I lead you to the subway, can you take me to Kitara?”

“Yeah, I came here once with my foster family, I kind of remember where it is,” That was good enough for him. He looped his arm with this, slipping on some sunglasses and a medical mask on, accommodating it over his nose. “Star undercover?”

He looked at her, but didn’t respond, instead giving her a peace sign. She took it as a yes.

Yura didn’t particularly care or mind. Her foster sister was always flailing about bands up to the point of going to concerts and fan meetings, some which she had attended with her. The boy bands she had met were always very kind, with a generous but tired smile. They made you feel welcomed and valued. She felt a bit at peace just knowing she was helping one of those boys.

They started walking out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk, various couples, business men, and old women walking by quietly, not even glancing up. It was around six thirty in the afternoon, but the rush hour didn’t even seem to affect the quiet neighborhood, not even with the hospital so nearby. “My name is Cheondung by the way,”

She glanced up at him. “Cheondung? That’s Korean right?”

She had heard the name before, but she just couldn’t recall where, her mind tracing back to when she first arrived to Tokyo all the way to where she was now, lost in the middle of Sapporo.

“Yes,” He kept looking around, his eyes never set completely on her. “It means,‘Thunder’.”

“Can I call you Thunder then?” She shrugged, giving him a grin.

He nodded, as they crossed the street at a quick pace, his arm never letting go of hers, not even for an instant. She could almost smell the scent of a deodorant as she bumped into his arm. He really was tall. “My name is Yura by the way.”

“‘Yura’,” He repeated it, looking down at her. “What does it mean?”

“‘Dream’.” Her eyes looked down at her feet. “My foster sister named me when I first first arrived to Japan. She said it fit me.”

“Wait.” Chan snapped her head to frown at her. “What the hell, your real name isn’t Yura?” Her eyes grew big. “You... lied to me?”

The redhead rolled her eyes, letting out a yawn. “Didn’t lie~ just didn’t tell you my real name.”

“What is your real name then?”

“What is your real name?” Yura questioned her back.

“What?” Chan groaned, raising up her hands. “Sorry, I forgot who I was dealing with here.”

“Heeey,” She pouted.

“Anyway, just continue. I’ll find your passport later.”

Yura purse her lips together. “Anyway,”

“Does she live around here?”

She shook her head, as she extended her arm out, her fingers tracing the leaves through every green bush, gate, or building they passed back. They turned towards the right as soon as they reached a parking lot, Thunder’s eyes looking straight forward, towards the finishing line. She had always loved how bits and pieces of Japan almost reminded her of home, old apartment complexes fading away into time, just like the small home she raised herself in used to. It felt comfortable and safe.

They walked by a construction sight, they strolled by long street but never looked any other way but East. They passed convenience stores, small rows of houses planted amidst tall buildings, Pepsi machines, game stores, bike riders, colorful hotels, clothing stores, ramen shops, all the way until they reached the subway steps.

She could feel his fingers thread through her hair as he wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her close, her backpack pressing against his chest. “If you aren’t from Sapporo where are you from?” She wrenched away as she started walking down, his fingertips lightly holding onto the ends of her hair, trailing behind.

“It’s a long story.” She finally responded, her eyes rushing for the ticket booth.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her towards the short line of suited men and uniformed girls and boys, standing behind them as he pulled his mask down, giving her a smile. “We have time.”