Chapter Text
Sieun’s pain was endless. Every day was the same. He thought the feeling of his heart being crushed and his soul being torn to shreds every time he saw Sooho lying in his hospital bed would fade over time, but it never did. In fact, it got worse, more heartbreaking each time.
Why isn’t he awake yet?
Nothing much would happen in that hospital room. Sieun wasn’t one to talk a lot, not that he had anything to say either, but when the nurse told him it helped the patients when their loved ones talked to them consistently, he decided to try. It was awkward at first. What could he say when he spent most of his days here?
Sieun looked around as if to make sure no one would hear him speak, and when he confirmed that no one was there, he took a deep breath.
“I transferred schools. I’m not gonna tell you why though, I think you’d be pretty mad if you knew.” The silence, ever so present, greeting him felt heavier than usual. “My first day was last week. I got into a fight already.” Sieun let the silence fill the room, trying to imagine how Suho would respond. Nothing came to his mind. Sieun was afraid of forgetting Suho’s voice. “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t start it,” he defended himself as if he needed to come clean to Suho.
Sieun kept on explaining how that school was just like every other, if not worse. How he seemed to be the target as the new kid, how he skipped most days to come here anyway.
What would Suho say if he knew Sieun was skipping class? If he knew his grades didn’t matter much to him anymore? His parents had fully given up on him after his revenge. There was no reason for him to keep achieving anything.
“My father,” Sieun started speaking, almost whispering. It had been two days since he had started talking to Suho. For his friend’s sake, of course. “I don’t know what he tried to do. I don’t get why he encouraged me when I was fighting, or why he said I wasn’t in the wrong for beating them up. A father shouldn’t support such behavior, don’t you think? He should be concerned. Maybe worried.” A pause. Sieun swallowed, fidgetting with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I know I wasn’t in the wrong for what I did to them. I would do it again in a heartbeat. Hell, I would do worse.”
When he was silent, Sieun would do one of those three things: stare out the window, stare at Suho, study. He studied more out of habit rather than by real interest. It was better than doing nothing.
Sometimes, Suho’s grandma would be here. She was warm and kind. With time (and without her grandson), her health, mental and physical, deteriorated, and she came less and less often. That, too, was heartbreaking. Sieun was afraid of Suho waking up alone. Or worse, too late.
It was the three-month mark when Sieun started losing hope he didn’t know he had. He scooted close to Suho’s bed, taking his hand in his. Suho’s hands were still rough, bigger than his.
“So, when are you planning to wake up?” Sieun asked in his monotonous voice. He was dying inside. “I know you like sleeping, but three months is a bit long for a nap.”
And when the silence became unbearable, he stood up, Suho’s hand still held tightly in his. Sieun didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t. With a sigh, he sat back on his chair. He didn’t let go at all that day. Not until the nurses insisted that he go outside.
Sieun got up and as he approached the door, an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. He turned around, walking once again towards Suho’s sleeping body, and did something he never had thought to act on. He kissed Suho’s forehead, gently, pouring all his love to him. Leaving it right there, where it belonged.
If he had known he wouldn’t see him again, would he have let his lips linger for a few seconds longer?
Sieun came home to an empty apartment. His father rented him a studio closer to his school, but he rarely went there. Only when his father was home, to avoid him.
Most of his time was spent either at school or at the hospital anyway. Where he slept, or how long he spent on the bus, didn’t matter to him. Everything was the same. Boring, sad, lonely.
The next day was Saturday, Sieun’s favorite day. He liked it because he could spend the whole day at the hospital without the guilt of skipping class. It was the day when Suho’s grandmother came as well. When she did.
Sieun woke up bright and early. Much before his alarm, he noticed as he stared at the clock on his bedside table. Four a.m. He had had another nightmare. Was it still just a nightmare if it was memories?
He didn’t try to fall back asleep. It was pointless. Sieun got up, deciding to take a hot shower in hopes of washing away the dream he just had.
Even after taking his sweet time, it was still a few hours before the hospital’s visits were open. The memory still lingered in the back of Sieun’s mind. The video of Suho in his last moments didn’t seem like just a video anymore. Sieun had dreamed about it so many times that he could imagine he had been there. He could feel his hopelessness, his guilt, his fear, as he watched Suho get beaten.
It was all too real.
There was no food in the house and although Sieun wasn’t hungry, he decided to go buy some. It was better than waiting around at home and regretting once he’d come back hungry with nothing to eat.
Instead of his usual gray hoodie, Sieun opted for Suho’s red windbreaker. Suho’s grandmother had given it to him. For a while, he had slept with it in his arms, but now it often remained in his closet as even the sight of something that belonged to the person he loved was too painful.
Suho’s scent was still there, although faint, and Sieun did not miss to sniff the jacket before putting it on. He felt comforted, protected, almost as if Suho’s windbreaker was him.
It was raining and cold outside. It didn’t phase Sieun. He felt like a robot, barely surviving.
Nothing but Suho mattered. His feelings were complex. Suho had been his best friend, but it didn’t feel like that, it felt like they were never meant to be just friends. Sieun often questioned the nature of his feelings, trying to drown them as soon as he came too close to the answer.
Sieun reached the bus stop, not bothering to seek shelter underneath it. He waited patiently for the bus that would bring him back home after he had bought some groceries. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a group approaching him slowly. Sieun didn’t bother looking at them, they were probably just normal students walking by.
He probably should’ve recognized the uniform they were wearing, belonging to his new school. Or maybe he should’ve recognized the face of the guy he humiliated on his first day there. But Sieun’s mind was blank and his thoughts were only occupied by Suho.
“Who do we have here?” One of them spoke in a loud voice, soon followed by laughs.
Sieun did not move. He ignored them.
Would he have acted differently if he had known what would happen next? Would he have listened to this now vague memory of Suho telling him to run away?
When Sieun opens his eyes, he’s lying in a hospital bed. His vision was blurry at first and he decided to close his eyes again. Without realizing it, he fell back asleep.
Sieun woke up again almost two days later. He could see clearly this time and he didn’t feel as dizzy. A man was standing before him. He looked relieved, yet awkward, as if he didn’t know how to act.
Not recognizing the man, Sieun did not acknowledge his presence.
“Sieun, you’re awake. Are you okay? What happened?”
The man bombarded him with questions he didn’t know the answer to. What happened? Sieun vaguely remembers a fight.
It’s all blurry now. How many were they? What really happened? Sieun remembers using his grocery bags to hit some of them. He also remembers the pain when his head violently hit the floor. From the way his knees feel painful even without moving, Sieun assumes they hit him there. He assumes it to be the reason for his fall.
Then, nothing.