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Language:
English
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Published:
2023-01-21
Words:
739
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
5
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20

A Nighttime Walk

Summary:

Sometimes Yeong-Ho can’t sleep and they get caught thinking about where they’ve been. Sometimes a walk through the parkpark under the moonlight helps.

Work Text:

Sometimes Yeong-Ho can’t sleep. Their dreams are frequently plagued with glimpses of another world that they swear they know but can’t recall upon returning to the waking world. It’s frustrating. Like a word constantly on the tip of their tongue that just won’t come. It’s on nights like these that Yeong-Ho has found that nighttime walks around the park help clear their mind.

 

The wooden cabin floor is cold under their feet as they shuffle over to their boots by the door and pull them on over a pair of thick woolen socks that Eiz knit for them. Their winter cloak is slung over the back of a rickety kitchen chair and they pull it over their night clothes. No sense getting dressed when they won’t see anyone, the whole point is to calm their mind and wear themself out before heading back to sleep. 

 

Warding glyphs flare as the front door to the cabin shuts behind them and they set off on their usual meandering path. 

 

The parkpark is never exactly quiet; there’s too much life, the nocturnal creatures of the park slinking through brush, insects chirping long after the sun has gone down. The geysers don’t stop erupting simply because there is no one there to watch them. Yeong-Ho finds a type of magic to these walks, paths clear of wandering tourists and only the light of the full moon to guide them. The crows are there of course, they’re always there, and Yeong-Ho gives them a simple nod as they flap from perch to perch, following Yeong-Ho on their quiet journey. 

 

As they walk, they get stuck on tonight’s dream. So little of it remains, just a disembodied smile, crepe-like skin hinting at its owner’s age, laugh-lines set deep into the flesh. They don’t know who the smile belongs to. It reminds them of their grandmother, if only for its apparent age, but it’s not the smile they remember from their childhood. It’s missing the gap between the two front teeth for starters. Perhaps it’s someone else’s grandmother’s smile, but it’s not theirs. 

 

Yeong-Ho’s breath puffs out in small clouds in front of their face as they move at a pace that is perhaps a bit quicker than is comfortable. The exercise won’t do them any harm, and they’re almost certain Alf would have some teasing but too-close-to-the-truth comment about them finally putting in some extra effort. They know their performance isn’t as good as Before. They’re aware. The ball just doesn’t feel as comfortable in their grip as it used to. Lately it’s been feeling like just about nothing is as comfortable as it used to be. 

 

It’s fine. They keep moving. 

 

They wonder what today’s date is. It’s so hard to keep track when day in and day out is just another day of blaseball. Either they’re pitching, or they’re sitting in the dugout watching one of the others pitch. It’s all the same. 

 

The cold bites into their face, cheeks stinging against the wind. They wonder if they missed Seollal. They haven’t actually celebrated the new year since Grandma died, but the thought of some warm tteokguk right now nearly brings tears to their eyes. They miss Grandma. They miss her scolding them to stop hovering in the kitchen, to let her cook and go entertain the young cousins until it was time to eat. They never managed to entertain them for long, but it was worth it to see Grandma glance over at them from the stove and smile. 

 

The walk is supposed to be clearing their mind, but it seems like tonight they’re determined to get stuck in their head. Their steps slow and they veer to the side of the trail where a bench sits. It’s meant for accessibility reasons, but it’ll also work for giving them a moment to gather themself. 

 

They close their eyes, tilt their head back, and just concentrate on breathing. The cold air moves in and out of their chest at steady intervals as they count their breaths. In-1-2-3-4, out-1-2-3-4. 

 

They’re startled out of their mindfulness with the sound of wings at the other end of the bench. Yeong-Ho’s eyes snap open to see a familiar corvid perched there, not one of the crows, but instead a magpie, its white stomach practically glowing in the moonlight. All of a sudden, Yeong-Ho feels their chest loosen just a bit. 

 

“Hi Grandma. It’s nice to see you.”