An instant interest and wonder flared in Jaejoong’s eyes once he heard such powerful words coming from the ever so gentle looking mouth.
He seen and heard about phoenixes in countless pieces of written and spoken art: mythical creatures holding a form of a bird, connected to the sun and fire, and often symbolizing things like perseverance, grace and rebirth. It is said to turn itself to ashes through burning in his own, inner flame, only to come into being once again from the grey dust. It always fascinated Jaejoong, in a way – was it to start a new history, a literal second chance at living the existence, or simply continue the old one, in a never-ending circle of life?
The idea barely applied to humans, he found, as neither the literal or metaphoric rebirth was exactly possible to act out: one could, technically, disappear, drop their identity and become someone entirely different, but casting the fantasies aside, it was barely realistic in the real world. And definitely not when one thought about who they were – public personas, idols, creators of widely known art. Yet, she seemed serious – the statement bold and electrifying with its power. Like there was something on her mind, something very specific, a place that his mind couldn’t follow her one on its own, the path too winding, the light around it too dim for him to make out the tracks.
“Does the phoenix burn and rise because it wants to, or because it has to?” The male asked in the end, a twisted way of getting to the core meaning of her words.
It was out of amusement that Seo Ah uttered an extravagant statement, but it served its purpose. Trivial matters were often the subjects of discussions and dull as they could get, she wondered how could one handle an uncommon one.
The conversation took another route, a philosophical one she believed. His question sparked her curiosity and made her brain’s turbines turn progressively faster. It only seemed simple from its appearance. A spontaneous answer could do the trick, but the soloist felt there was more to it than just choosing one of the two options given to her. Coming from an artist she admired since her early teenage years, she couldn’t help but wonder if the man was one who was also interested in others’ way of thinking or was simply a person pondering about things that usually people wouldn’t insert in an everyday dialogue.
It did make her smile though. The older one was cooperative. Not many would jump right in the way he did.
It was a matter of will and duty mixed with the aspect of rebirth. The phoenix’s existence lay on its conditional immortality: its countless deaths were accompanied with countless beginnings. The sequence of burn and rise seemed obligatory. Even if its death was accidental, the legendary bird would reappear from its ashes since that was the order of things. Humans weren’t given this predisposition yet they could somewhat do the same during their lifetime. The will to change the course of events could cause one to end with another to start. People were made from different selves after all. With time, they grew out of their old selves, showing the new and improved one. The thought was a bit stretched out, she admitted, but held a certain parallel she was convinced of.
“A mix of both.” Seo Ah responded after a seemingly long silence. “A phoenix can’t choose its time to end its life to start another. It must burn. Its rise isn’t yet to be defined since its meaning lies in what the phoenix chooses to spend its new life. Whether it’s like the old one or completely different, it has the choice, so it also wants to burn so that it rises the way it desires to be.”
