Realistic or Modern Kaitlyn Park: The Wildsage Growing

[Stickdom]

The Day After...
The brown leaves on the front lawn swirl in mesmerizing patterns, you feel like they are spelling out words and whispering stories that only you can hear. Minyoung had pushed you out onto the back porch for some fresh air in the warm afternoon sun, he had gone inside to fetch you your jacket to keep off the chill but was taking a particularly long time going about it. You look out over your property, able to enjoy your thoughts alone in peace. Technically it is your parents' property, they paid the majority of the lease and hired Minyoung as your personal live-in caretaker. You have the entire downstairs of the single-level ranch-style home to yourself, while he has taken up living in the furnished basement to give you your space and privacy. You try to be self-sufficient, not living off of the compassion, or pity, of your parents, all of the furnishings of your level are your own, the doorways widened for your wheelchair's ease of access and the furniture and counters lowered slightly to accommodate your shortened upwards reach. Minyoung often lightens your mood with jokes of new furniture, his favorite suggestion being a bunk bed and asking if you wanted the top or bottom bunk. This might be insulting coming from anyone else, but Minyoung is different, special, he seems to know just what to say to touch your heart and make you smile. Some ignorant commentators have even discreetly asked when you two are to be married, even despite Minyoung being almost a decade older than yourself. The question always brings a blush to your cheeks, but Minyoung diverts it with a clever response that makes you more like his sister than any sort of partner. Sometimes, you wonder if that truly is how he thinks of you, and the thought has crossed your mind more than once whether he would stay anyway if your parents stopped paying him for his services.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Minyoung himself, sliding the porch door open and then closing it again behind himself, and without turning your head you can tell he used his foot, he must be carrying something with both hands. He pulls up a deck chair next to your wheelchair, then slides a small table between the two and sets a tray with two steaming cups set on it. The smell alone tells you what it is, Minyoung's green tea, the one thing he can reliably make in the kitchen without ruining it. He sits in the deck chair and a deep sigh escapes his lips as he stares out at the quiet landscape, "Ahh, it is so peaceful here. Such calm and serenity. It would make a good temple." He looks over to you and flashes a bright smile before sipping his tea, his English vocabulary is excellent, though there are still traces of the Korean accents and his grammar sometimes confuses words and their correct order, which you both laugh at when it is amusingly placed. You begin to realize that the word laugh comes into your thoughts more often, that your life now is what most would consider happy and successful, not too glamourous or famous, but just content enough to live comfortably without sudden worries or concerns. "I was going into city tomorrow, would you like to come along? I could deliver you to the library for the day, I have meeting at hospital for hours and hours and hours..." The nurse slumps in his chair a little more with each repetition of the word hours, noting his distaste at having to sit through the regular training meetings constantly, when you both know he would rather be at home, or pursuing his passion of gardening, or really anything other than sitting in a plain white board room taking courses on patient care that he already understood. "But I can see an ice cream cone at the end of the day." He smiles, knowing the sweet treat is one of your favorites. The idea of going on a day trip suddenly seems immensely appealing to you, and despite having a looming deadline for the next installment of your book's completion, you're highly tempted to take him up on his offer.

YumenoTsukishiro
​

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

There were few things that could coax Kaitlyn out of the comfortable cage she'd made of her home. Libraries and ice cream were somewhere in the top five of that list. Minyoung basically gave her an offer she couldn’t refuse. And why would she? Yesterday she finally experienced the world once more even in the confines of her wheelchair, and she fell in love with it all over again, despite the… unusual experience she had in the fortune teller’s tent. The apprehension was still there, as were the last tinges of depression, clinging onto her like stubborn mist in the valleys. But she was learning to move forward, one inch at a time. And for now, that was enough.


“Ice cream sounds lovely. I want the Strawberry Fudge with KitKat bits. With the chocolate wafers on the side,” she said, before taking another dainty sip of tea. To Minyoung’s credit, the smell and taste was almost on par with the quality of the Japanese tea masters. Or, since she had little confidence in the nurse’s kitchen skill, something else lended itself into the marvelousness of the tea. Perhaps it was the leaves her mother brought back from her trip to Japan. Perhaps it was the warm coziness of her jacket and the gentle whispers of the wind against the garden leaves. Or perhaps it was simply her changing outlook in life.


“But what do you think we should do for today? There are plenty of other places to go, or things to do here at home. Fancy a round of Mobile Legends with me?” Kaitlyn asked, some of her old excitable nature seeping into her softly-spoken words.

 

[Stickdom]

Minyoung chuckles to himself a little bit at your enthusiasm for tomorrow's outing and the potential for you to receive your outrageous ice cream concoction. You know he always gets a simple single scoop of sweet pistachio on a little waffle cone, you've never asked him if there is a reason that is his favorite flavor, but it seems like it's always been that way so why should it be any different? The nurse sips the last of his tea and sets the cup down on the tray, then relaxedly looking out at the square garden plot boxed in by a few railroad ties to hold the dirt in and keep the borrowing critters out. "The celery looks like it is growing good. I have worry for my potatoes however." You can't help but smile at his remarks, the man may not be able to cook well anything he grew, but he certainly knew how to grow them. He stands and takes the handles of your wheelchair, sliding you back from the porch railing and over to the side where the cement ramp leads out to the sidewalk leading around the corner of the house. At first you think he's taking you for a little stroll, but at the bottom of the ramp, he turns sharply and starts to wheel you through the thick grass of the lawn towards the garden. "Perhaps we will play games later, I hear it is raining all evening. How about you get some fresh air and little exercise with me?"

After a moment across the yard, he stops to walk around the wheelchair and open the gate, then returns to you and slips one arm under your shoulder and the other under your limp knees, lifting you like a princess from your dainty carriage. He carries you to the center of the garden where there is an open patch of grass specifically for your use, surrounded by rows of cabbages and carrots, towers of tomatoes and cucumbers, vines hanging with squash and melons. For a suburban garden, Minyoung has quite the variety, not counting the wild fig and pear trees that were planted close to the house, and he is exceptionally proud of his simple crops, though they are more for recreation than agricultural purposes. The nurse walks around the garden's perimeter, occasionally plucking a berry or smelling a blossom, judging which parts of his garden are ready for harvest. You swear the man has an affinity for life, both people, plants, and you'd assume animals, he seems to bring out joy and growth in anything he sets his hands to. "Kaitlyn, would you check tomatoes for the worms?" Minyoung is constantly at war with the grubs and caterpillars that feast on his green leaves and this is not the first time he has recruited you to help him wipe out the invaders, "I saw the eggs of them some time ago, but there may be more."

 

[YumenoTsukishiro]

Kaitlyn found it ironic that a man who can burn down the kitchen trying to boil instant noodles can coax verdant life from the earth and make it flourish. Yet it was precisely the reason -- or at least a huge part of it -- that helped persuade a broken girl into giving the world a second chance, despite everything it wrenched from her tiny hands. It was the reason why she had no qualm when the man carried her up from the wheelchair like a groom would for his bride. And in no way did that stray thought bring a tinge of shy pinkness to her pale cheeks, or caused her eyes to look up at her nurse like a damsel from one of the old stories.

Yes, the girl was aware of Minyoung's age and how awkward it was to harbor feelings for the man. But day in and day out Kaitlyn was finding it hard to ignore the tugging in her chest. Who could blame her? Years of toiling in the garden and caring for patients had given Minyoung a lean physique that felt firm around her back. The scent of nature mingled with his simple cologne, and with each breath Kaitlyn was brought back to the countryside of South Korea she'd visited a lifetime ago. And Minyoung had the kind of face that stopped aging beyond eighteen years. To be honest Kaitlyn spent the last minute or so staring at it, following his movements around the garden, that she nearly missed his request of her to check the tomatoes.

"O-Oh, yes!" Kaitlyn reached out to the tomatoes, brushing aside leaves and looking at the plump, red fruit for any sign of the little critters. Her movements caused her dress to shift, the hem of the skirt lifting up to reveal her ankles. It was only a bit of skin, but the marred flesh there was enough reminder of her life's turning point. She glanced at it, seeing pieces of metal lodged in flesh, piercing the bone. One blink and they were simply scars. That didn't stop Kaitlyn's hand from shivering over the tomato it held, or the wide-eyed blankness taking over her placid expression.

 

[Stickdom]

The gardener circles the small walls of his domain like a watchful soldier on patrol, occasionally plucking of a brown dead leaf or feeling the ripeness of a fruit. You watch him pace and examine for minutes on end, sometimes whispering to a plant to grow larger, sometimes flicking an insect away with a curse. You feel the emotions swell in your chest again, the ones you don't quite have a name for. You are not sure how to classify these feelings, is love too strong? Affection? Empathy? He cares for you, you know that much for absolute certain, but in what way? Does he actually see you as his sister or is there more that he hasn't put to words yet? You get lost in your daydreaming thoughts as Minyoung continues to make his round. When you finally look up again, you see him leaning against one of the short railings of the fence, gazing down at the ground. At first you think he is searching for something, but you catch the sound of heavy breathing, too heavy, as if he had run a flight of stairs too quickly. His eyes stare blankly for infinite moments, but a single blink and a deep breath, and he stands upright again, though you can't help but notice his free hand move to his body as if covering an old wound made fresh again. His face turns to you and his happy smile greets you once again, all trace of the episode vanished as he takes a step towards you, but you know this is not the first time you have seen this happen recently. "Come come, little insect, I get you out of my garden too, or else you eat all my tomatoes." He waves his hands at you like he is shooing a pigeon, then stoops down to lift you up in the same way as before, a hand on your back and behind your knees, but not before tracing a finger over your bare ankles, a tinge of pain on his face as he seems to feel the bars of iron beneath the skin. He looks to your face and smiles again, "A fairy needs no shoes to walk on silver air." He says it in a sort of chant, as if he was quoting from something, "Grandmother used to tell me of her fairies. She told me they would bless her garden to grow the best fruits of the season." As he tells you this in a secret hoarse voice, not quite a whisper, he carries you to the wheel chair and sets you in it tenderly, then kneels down beside you for a moment. "As a princess of fairies, you will bless my garden, yes?" His smile widens to its happiest peaks on either side of his round cheeks, and you feel the lightest of pink flood your own.