Work Text:
‘Braid it...Braid it…’
A small pink tongue pokes out of the corner of Jun’s mouth as his small, nimble hands struggle to hold together a twisted chain of daisies. The greenish stems, although short, seemed to hold together quite well—at least until he let go of the stems at the top of the row. Now, they seem to fall out with ease, as if he hadn’t just spent half an hour trying to piece it together.
At this rate, he won’t be able to bring back a flower crown for both himself and Dongho! Where is Dongho, anyway? He had told him that he’d be coming by soon.
Jun pouts, watching a bent and deformed daisy somehow spring out of his hand, like a cowlick. Not that he’s ever really have had to struggle with cowlicks, but those people in cartoons sometimes do.
“Hey, Jun!” Dongho, who comes running up silently beside him, “Whatcha doing? Oh, flower crowns...where did you learn that from?”
He spares a quick glance and murmurs absently, “From that flower shop lady.”
“Flower shop—Oh, Mrs. Ahn? Cool.”
Dongho plops down beside him before raising his bottom off the grass, dusting it off, and letting himself rest in a crouched position. He plucks a batch of flowers from the root and proceeds to play close, careful attention to his brother’s nimble hands working at the chain before beginning to emulate his process.
“Hey,” He begins, weaving together the stems with apparent ease, “You know, I was in the forest earlier. Guess what I found?”
“What?”
“Fairies!” He cheers, breaking off another daisy, “A bunch of little things, just flying around and making flowers grow, whatever fairies do.”
“What?! Nuh-uh, no way!”
Dongho, holding a finished crown, places it onto Jun’s head, and brushes a lock behind his ear before standing. “Yeah-huh. I’ll show you, c’mon,” He motions.
“No, let me finish the crown first.”
“Oh, alright. Hurry up then.”
It had been April then, just around the time that the kids around the neighborhood would break out their Easter baskets and cutely colored plastic eggs filled with all sorts of cheap candy and 500 won coins.
Of course, contrary to the majority of their town, their parents were in no way religious. In fact, Jun had been the first to learn of its true purpose. It had been one of his friends, from the times he’d wander around, walking into random businesses and making friends with whoever would listen to him. It was a girl named Mira, that time, who had been such a devout Catholic that she’d cry if she missed a Sunday mass.
“It’s about Jesus when he rose from the dead. We celebrate how he saved us all from Hell and died for our sins,” she had told them, so excitedly jabbering on about just what it all meant before Zack, her crush, came to drag her away.
Despite Jun’s confusion on the more serious matters concerning Easter, he was envious of those children in the churchyard, playing games and laughing as they searched for the eggs the nuns scattered for them.
It was only this year that Dongho had a wonderful, brilliant idea.
He’d make his own game, just for Jun. A scavenger hunt with the eggs, each filled with a toy or an actual candy Jun likes, and a slip of paper giving a clue as to where the next egg would be located.
Out of what seemed like thin air, Jun tosses a crooked, but pretty, crown of daisies onto Dongho’s head.
“So, show me the fairies,” He insists, taking his elder brother by the hand, “They better be there.”
***
In the forest, there is in fact no fairies, but instead a single, green patterned egg. Jun furrows his eyebrows at the sight of his hyung holding it so excitedly.
“It’s a gift from the Easter bunny!”
“Easter bunny? What’s that?”
Ah, right. Jun hasn’t done the research Dongho has. He wouldn’t know what that is, since even the church kids don’t talk about that ‘character’.
He shoves the egg into his younger brother’s hands. “Open it,” He insists, “I think I hear something in there.
Inside is a simple gift, a 5000 won bill. To Dongho, it’s not anything special. To Jun, it’s everything, despite it only being the first gift.
“Woah! The easter bunny gave me this?! Why?”
“Cause he’s nice. Now look, there's a paper in there, read it,” Dongho snorts, almost impatiently.
Jun unfolds the strip and begins to read aloud. “It says…‘Go to the tree that you found a baby bird inside of’. I remember that place! I wonder why there…?”
Before Dongho can come up with a response to play along, Jun’s running off to find the tree. He only barely is able to keep up.
At the base of the tree, there is nestled a relatively egg-sized...well, egg. A blue and orange dotted thing, just waiting to be opened and reveal its treasures inside.
“Look, Jun,” Dongho calls as Jun, who’s always one step ahead of him, runs over to seize the object. He pops it open and removes its contents. A couple pieces of candy, and yet another slip of paper. Jun pays little mind to the candy (which Dongho picks up and stores away with ease, for later) and reaches straight for the paper. As expected; he loves scavenger hunts.
“Now it says ‘Go to the first treehouse’. Does that mean the thing you tried to build for us, but it fell?”
Dongho winces. Of course, he’s always so blunt. Nonetheless, he follows along when Jun takes off.
There had been a time, once, where Jun was obsessed with this one book. It was about a magic treehouse, in which all amazing sorts of things could happen.
Often, because of this book, he’d dream of treehouses. A little place to hide away when life at home became too much. Dongho, being the “best hyung” that he was, couldn't help but give in to what he wanted. So he built him a treehouse.
Well….he tried to. Nobody ever really taught him how to build things. He had to go based off of the knowledge he got out of TV shows and the man that lived down the street. Of course, with a lack of information and subpar tools, it was bound to fall. The good thing was that it happened when they weren’t in it. Coming back to find a collapsed treehouse is much better than dying (or worse, breaking a bone) in one.
In the pile of wood and rubble that they’d left there ever since, Jun reaches in to pluck out a single, pink egg. He opens it.
Inside is a 500 won coin, and another slip of paper. It reads: “Go to the cabin that Mr. Seong left us you”.
‘That’ , Dongho reminisces, only faintly paying attention to the words Jun speaks as he runs off once again, ‘is still my favorite hideaway. We never go there anymore.’
Mr. Seong was the very same man that taught Dongho how to woodwork. They had been good friends back then, when he was still alive. Such good friends, in fact, that he left them a gift.
A cabin, built in the middle of the forest for whenever Mr. Seong needed a bit of a break from civilization. Now that he’s gone, it’s theirs.
Dongho fnds Jun inside of it, not opening the purple egg that lay in wait, but instead staring up at the ceiling. There was a singular lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, with bare wooden walls and dusty couches covered in old, unwashed blankets. It’s been a long while since either of them stayed in it. They couldn’t manage to sleep in the same place their old friend had once.
Jun quickly picks up the egg and wanders out of the cabin.
“Go...Go to the hill where you found Bruno…Oh yeah, Bruno…”
This time, he makes no effort to run. This...wasn’t Dongho’s intention. Then again, it hasn’t been long since Bruno was found and given up.
He was a dog that Jun found abandoned in a box once, shivering and cold. God, he was just a puppy. And yet, someone left him for dead. Perhaps not all beautiful things are loved, the way people say they are.
Bruno (a name given by Dongho, after Jun’s incessant prodding) was a german shepherd it seemed. A small one, with bright eyes despite all he’s been through. Jun had loved him more than Dongho’s ever seen him love someone (maybe other than himself and his parents).
Of course, they couldn’t keep him. Jun had been terrified of bringing him home (their mother always punished them for touching animals they didn’t know), but hadn’t the will to let him go. Unfortunately, he was forced to. In the end, despite all he begged to do, Bruno was taken to the nearby animal shelter and kept in the back. Dongho never even let him visit, for fear that he’d get attached.
They had found the box in an alley by the park, just a couple weeks ago. Now, nothing was left to indicate that the dog had ever been abandoned. Nothing but their memory. Jun kneels before the green and yellow egg that sat in its place. He takes it.
“Go to the place that Dongho broke his leg.”
Like music to his ears, Jun begins to giggle. Other than the fact that he had to wear a cast for weeks straight, Dongho couldn’t remember anything about the event. The only thing he could focus on was the mind numbing pain, and the cries of his little brother as he scrambled away to get help.
It was in a ditch, where he slid down and tripped over rocks. God, that was a bad day.
Jun skids to a stop by the edge of the cliff that overlooked the spot Dongho fell in, and checks his environment. No eggs.
“Dongho?” He calls, hoping for some assistance. No response. Where...Where is he?
Despite the fact that he knows this part of the forest like the back of his hand, Jun’s scared. His hyung is nowhere in sight.
“D...Dongho?!”
A rustle in the bushes behind him is enough to send him into a fit of fear. He falls back onto the ground, paralyzed by anticipation as he waits for whatever it is to reveal itself.
And…
Out hops a rabbit, its little nose wiggling and its ears swivelling around. Upon seeing Jun staring, hitched breaths just barely making it out, it escapes.
“Jun, what are you doing? Are you okay?”
Oh. Dongho was just being slow. Jun laughs at himself and dusts off his pants.
“Yes, I’m fine...Hyung, where’s the egg?”
“I don’t know, you’ll have to find it.”
Jun sighs, kicking up dust as he turns around to sit on a small tree stump. There’s nothing here! Just bushes and….Wait…
There's something yellow peeking out of a gap in the side of the cliff. Jun runs over to it, desperate to find out whether it’s a trick of the light or not.
‘Why the heck did I hide it there?!’ Dongho scolds himself, ‘What if he falls? What if he breaks something?’ The pain he suffered that day flashes back into his mind, as if he were reliving it. He shudders. God, he can’t imagine what he’d feel, seeing Jun in his place down there, writhing in pain and tears as he screams for his brother.
When Dongho snaps back to reality, Jun’s already leaving, yellow egg in hand. ‘Wait, where’s he going? There’s a basket here, somewhere, it should say that in the egg.’
He runs after him, calling his name. “Jun! Don’t you think you should open it first?”
“Yeah, I guess. I just wanted to get away from the cliff,” he admits, popping open the egg. This time, he reads it in silence.
“It says...in the bushes. There’s something...it...it’s not a rabbit, right?” a quiver in his voice alarms his older brother, who sidles up beside him to pretend to read the note too.
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t think so, why would the easter bunny give you one of his own kind? You should look for the next egg, I’ll help you.”
Jun nods, wordlessly looking away and wandering off into the bushes. Good thing he hid the actual prize somewhere else. Dongho quickly uncovers a sheet of moss and retrieves a basket, stuffed with goodies and ribbons. A little present for Jun to enjoy, before the real gift is ready.
“Yah, Jun!” He calls, pretending to pull the basket out of a nearby bush, “I think I found it!”
His little brother whips around. “You—”
Without warning, he comes crashing into Dongho’s torso, leaving him doubled over with his arms wrapped around the younger’s back. “Oof!”
“...hyung?”
“Yeah?”
Jun looks up, pure joy in his eyes. “Thank you,” He smiles.
“Why are you thanking me? The easter bunny did this for you.”
“Sure.”
Dongho gestures to the basket, ready to hand it over. God, he’s been waiting too long for this, to see Jun so happy, scared to even touch the thing for fear of ruining something so precious. Dongho shoves it into his arms anyway and urges him to look inside.
“It looks like there's another egg in there, get it.”
“Okay!”
He grasps the orange plastic and opens it. Inside, there’s a small figurine of a TV show character Jun admired, and one more strip of paper
Of course, this one last thing was the hardest to achieve, at least for Dongho. He had spent days with week long intervals, begging his parents for it. In the end, they reluctantly agreed.
“Go to...Go to the shelter where you left Bruno.” Jun gapes, accidentally letting the paper loose, fluttering gently to the ground. Before Dongho can say a thing, he takes off, heading for town, his older brother only barely following behind.
Dongho, panting and exhausted, finds his younger sibling in front of the shelter, seemingly too afraid to go in. He takes his hand to give a reassuring squeeze, and leads him inside.
Jun watches, curious as his hyung whispers something to the lady at the front desk, smiling kindly down at them. She retreats into the back, leaving them to wait out in the hall, fidgeting with anticipation. He doesn’t dare say a word, doesn’t ask a question, for fear that if he did he would be sorely disappointed in the answer.
When Jun looks up from his lap again, the first thing he sees is the smiling face of someone he thought to be gone.
“Bruno—!”
A clean, happy dog comes trotting out in childlike delight, ready to tackle his friend, who giggles at the dog’s enthusiasm and buries his nose in his coat. Dongho smiles fondly at the two and—there are tears streaming down the younger’s face, smeared all over his cheeks as he laughs into Bruno’s silky fur.
“Are you happy, Jun?” He asks, as if he didn’t know the answer.
Oh
—
Jun looks up at him, his eyes a world of pure joy sparkling in his eyes. Dongho’s breath hitches in his throat. He’s never been this emotional around him...could he be starting to open up?
He shoots into Dongho’s chest with a full-forced hug. “ I love you hyung! ” he cries.
And
God
, Dongho’s never believed anything more.