In the evening, Hana chilled in the guest room upstairs. Jun's space was right below her on the first floor.
Hana tried to sleep but kept moving around. She couldn't tell if the house was super soundproof or if Jun was just being quiet. She couldn't catch any sounds from his room, not even the hum of the air conditioner.
The room felt cold and not inviting. Clearly, no one had used it before. Even though it didn't smell weird, Hana felt out of place. When she was younger, she was super headstrong. Only in her twenties did she chill out a little, but not by much; she would get impatient after just a short while.
Tossing the covers aside, she hopped up and started banging on the floor. Anyone downstairs would definitely hear unless they were hard of hearing.
Sure enough, Jun was there in no time, knocking on her door.
"Hey, you okay in there?"
Opening the door, Hana snapped, "It's like an oven in here. I can't sleep."
Jun, still in his regular clothes, looked like he wasn't ready for bed.
That's weird; don't older dudes go to bed early? Hana wondered.
After feeling the room's air, Jun let out a soft sigh and explained, "It's cooler today. 28 degrees Celsius is perfect. Colder, and you might get sick."
"I'm burning up," Hana shot back.
It had been ages since Jun had to handle one of Hana's moods. But now, decades later, he was on top of it. Without saying much, he dialed the temperature down just a touch. As he did, he told Hana, "Don't make it colder. And use that light blanket, okay?"
As he talked, he reminded Hana of how he was back in the day – a talkative guy.
After he left, she went back to bed.
Young Jun wasn't the type to sweat the small stuff. But after he was with Hana, he got more dialed in on the details, like he knew he had peeps to look after. Always buried in his work, Jun could be scatterbrained. To help, he scribbled stuff down in a notebook, checking it when he came and went.
One time, Hana got nosy and peeked inside. It was a total mashup. Stuff like "grab duck for dinner", "Hana's not into ginger", and "score flowers for our 3-months" was mixed in with work stuff. The work notes went way over Hana's head, and she didn't really care about them. She thought it was goofy – why have a notebook in 2023 when you've got a phone?
Jun once argued that writing things down by hand helped reinforce his memory.
As she thought about all of this, Hana's unease started to fade. She looked up at the slowly darkening ceiling, reached out to cover herself with the light blanket, and then shut her eyes.
"Hana, please don't push yourself too hard."
Hana remembered that afternoon when Jun mentioned this, while they sat together on the couch. Since they met again, he'd been so calm and collected, almost too much, and that seemed strange to her. Wouldn't he be at least a little excited to see his wife after being apart for forty years?
Hana kept pondering, Maybe four decades is such a long stretch that it's possible to completely forget someone. Maybe all those emotions and feelings has just faded, and no thrill remains. If that's it, I totally get it. Times has shifted, and so have people.
Downstairs, Jun quietly sat near the big windows. His glasses rested on a table beside him, and his once sharp, clear eyes now looked a bit lost.
Out of nowhere, there was a series of knocking sounds from upstairs which pulled Jun back to reality. He glanced upward, grabbed his glasses, and stood up, commenting, "There's an upside to aging. We don't show our feelings openly like young folks."
"Younger ones can't really understand what's on older people's minds." He said it to himself, smiling, but there was a hint of sorrow in his gaze.
He walked upstairs and saw Hana standing near her door, clutching her chest.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
Looking serious, Hana answered, "I'm thirsty, but I don't know where the water is."
"Ah," said Jun, getting it. "I'll bring some for you."
As he began to head back downstairs, Hana tagged along.
"Stay here," Jun advised, "I'll handle it."
She just said, "Okay," but didn't stop and kept following him. Jun didn't say anything else.
Once he filled a glass for her in the kitchen, he gave her a quick tour of how the house's gadgets worked. Over the last forty years, many things had evolved quite a bit.
Hana had left her phone at home when she went shopping earlier. And now, as she watched Jun use the large display on the living room wall, demonstrating how to switch channels, she had a question.
"How do phones look these days?"
Jun took off a small black piece from his wristband. As he held it, the little piece expanded into a screen that fit his hand.
"These days, phones serve the same purpose as the older ID cards, bank cards, and more. They're linked to personal ID, payments, web searches, and contact lists. They also manage household security and settings. They even function like a personal computer, and many rely on them for various tasks," Jun explained.
Hana observed and commented, "I expected screens to be way bigger by now."
"You can change the screen size as you like. I just prefer it this way," Jun responded. As he spoke, he showed how the screen size could be adjusted.
For the first time, Hana found something about the future appealing. She used to be annoyed about having to carry different ID cards and how phones were growing in size.
"We'll sort out your identification and living documents tomorrow. After that, we'll get you a new phone."
"Okay." Hana settled on the couch, picked up the remote with a screen, and started figuring it out.
Seeing her engrossed in the device, Jun thought back to the old days. Hana was into gaming. If she wasn't busy with work, she'd dive into her games, much like someone engrossed in online activities. Standing next to her, he said, echoing the tone of a caring older relative, "You've had a long day. Maybe you should rest and play with this tomorrow?"
Without looking up, Hana responded, "I'm not sleepy."
With that, Jun decided to give her space and headed to his room.
The door softly closed behind Jun. Hana stopped what she was doing and gazed at his door, lingering in thought for a moment.
Suddenly, music played from the TV. She redirected her attention to the screen, looking for a specific multiplayer game she remembered. But then she discovered...
"It doesn't exist anymore!" And it hadn't for twenty years.
In a burst of disappointment, she nudged a cushion with her foot. As she looked for other games, she noticed she needed an ID to access them. Without an ID, she had to exit the game, and she nudged another cushion in annoyance.
She scrolled through, searching for familiar things from her past. A few were there but changed. Most were gone. Understanding how much had shifted over the years made her feel melancholic.
Then, her fingers stopped, and a small smile broke through her serious expression. Her favorite adventure webnovel, written sporadically over many years and one she doubted she'd ever finish, had been completed a decade ago. She never thought she'd get to read its conclusion.
She spent most of the night engrossed in the story. The book's closing note read, "Life is filled with goodbyes. Each moment is a departure in its own way."
After finishing, Hana placed the screen remote aside, leaned back on the couch, and closed her eyes.
Even though Jun was nearby, she felt she had lost the Jun she once knew forever.
Hana fell asleep on the couch. Before long, the door to Jun's room creaked open. Jun, who should've been in bed, was still dressed in his regular clothes, not looking ready for bed at all. He walked over to Hana, gathered the cushions she'd pushed onto the floor, switched off the TV, and carefully lifted her up.
"Age is catching up," he whispered, trying to catch his breath.
When Hana woke up the next morning, she was in the guest room bed, neatly tucked in. She thought, The older Jun still has the strength to carry me?
She got out of bed, brushed her teeth, and freshened up. As she neared the top of the stairs, she overheard an unfamiliar voice from the living room.
"Hey, Jun, coming fishing today? My son's driving, and we're eating at the fish place. He'll get us afterward."
Jun replied, "Can't today. I'm busy for the next couple of days."
The other man, his voice hearty and clear, countered, "Busy with what? Research? You're always home doing that, and it's not good for you. Even past seventy, I'm more active than you."
Jun simply said, "I genuinely have things to do."
"With what?"
Jun stayed silent.
The man went on, "Exactly. You just don't want to come."
As Hana started down the stairs, the man noticed her. He turned, looking puzzled.
Since only Jun's clothes were available, Hana had put on one of his shirts and some loose-fitting shorts after her shower the night before. The clothes, clearly from another era, hung loose on her and were wrinkled. With her just-out-of-bed look and no shoes on, the man was taken aback. After a bit, he said to Jun, "Jun, why is there a young lady here?" Then, realizing, he added, "Must be a relative's kid. You rarely have family over."
Jun, unsure of how to reply, stood and got slippers for Hana.
The man laughed, clearly entertained. But then, Hana, after slipping into the slippers, walked up to Jun and gave him a quick kiss.
"Hi, I'm Hana," she introduced herself, "I'm his wife."