THE RHYTHM OF US: RYEJI

Chapter 35: Leaving, Staying, Loving (not an easy choice)

Ryujin's POV

"Am I going to pretend that I didn't spot Yeji in the parking lot?" Yuna quirked an eyebrow as she strolled into the kitchen, finding me immersed in the task of cleaning dishes.

“She just dropped by for a visit,” I replied, shooting her a casual glance while continuing my chores.

Yuna's skepticism lingered. "It's 11 p.m.," she noted.

"Ever had late-night visits from friends?" I teased, refocusing on the dishes.

She slapped my arm. "I’m leaving tomorrow, and I need you to be my driver.”

I affected a thoughtful look. "I'm tempted to say no," I teased again, drying my hands with a towel.

“Unnieee, pleasee,” she pleaded.

"I was just messing with you, Yuna. Sure, say hi to Tito and Tita for me," I said, finally turning to face her.

"Yeyy, thanks, unnie. By the way, when are you planning to leave?" Yuna inquired.

I took a deep breath. "Once I sort things out. Probably next week."

“You haven't told them, not even Yeji?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I don't really know how Yeji will react.”

“She supports you and will continue to, I'm telling you, unnie,” she insisted.

I sighed as I sat down. “We're kind of in something right now,” I admitted.

“A fight?” she asked, her eyes widening. “Wait, a relationship?”

I laughed. “Definitely not, though we’ve been kissing,” I confessed, and she let out a surprised gasp.

"What the hell? You are kissing your best friend!" she exclaimed. "Since when?"

"Just recently," I remarked with a heavy sigh. 

As I rose from my seat, Yuna promptly trailed behind me. "Why on earth did you choose to be with her when you're leaving?"

"To have some fun," I quipped, flashing a playful grin to reassure her that I was just joking. Yuna responded with a dramatic eye roll.

"If this is another one of your fleeting flirts,” she spoke sceptically. "It'll only last a day or one night."

I hesitated for a moment, the painful truth hanging in the air. "And now, I’ll stay with her for a week," I said, the bitter reality escaping my lips. 

The admission stung, and the weight of it settled uncomfortably in the room.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Yuna observed, her tone softening.

"As much as possible, I will come back," I asserted, my resolve evident as I made my way to the living room. To my surprise, the door to the outside was open, so I promptly closed it, realizing the oversight. "Leaving the door open, really?"

"Unnie, you know there's a chance you might not return," Yuna pointed out, her voice tinged with worry.

I sighed, the weight of uncertainty settling like a stone in my chest. "I'll figure it out, Yuna. I have to."

Reaching into my pocket, I retrieved my phone and showed Yuna the message my mother had left the other day.

[Have you made your decision? We can arrange for someone to accompany you on the flight here.]

The words on the screen seemed to hang in the air, a stark reminder of the complexities that surrounded my departure. As I closed the message, a swirl of conflicting emotions engulfed me. 

Returning wasn't a simple matter of boarding a flight; it meant surrendering the hard-won freedom I had fought so fiercely for. Did I truly want to reenter the suffocating confines I had struggled to break free from?

Did they suddenly transform into better parents, ready to take responsibility and genuinely care for me?

The fact that they couldn't even be bothered to come personally and bring me back.

Just as I grappled with these thoughts, my phone buzzed again, this time with a message from my father:

[I can accompany you. Just tell us when so I can book a flight there.]

The unexpected offer left me reeling. Anger and resentment surged within me, and yet, a yearning for their presence lingered.

Did I miss them? I do—too much that it hurts.

The thought waged within me, intensifying the desire for genuine love from the people I never felt it from, a love I had never truly known.

The choice loomed before me—a crossroads where I had to decide between rejecting their offer and embracing the unknown.

Frustrated by the conflicting emotions, I decided to distract myself and avoid overthinking. Seating myself on the couch, I instinctively reached for my phone. The familiar touch of the device offered a fleeting escape from the internal turmoil.

With a deep breath, I composed a message to Yeji, asking if she had already arrived.

The seconds felt like an eternity as I awaited her response, the uncertainty of her whereabouts adding to the weight of my own indecision.

But even when Yuna left and I found myself alone on my bed, there was still an absence of Yeji's reply, and it gnawed at my thoughts.

Concern growing, I decided to call her, the ringing tones echoing in the quiet room. My anxiety heightened as each ring passed, and no familiar voice answered on the other end.

Frustration etched into my features as I attempted to message her again, the words typed out with a sense of urgency.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her reply flashed on the screen:

night