Chapter Text
“Yoohyeon.”
Yoohyeon groans and rolls over onto her side, pulling her pillow over her head.
“Yoohyeon,” The voice hisses again, a finger poking at her shoulder.
“Go away,” Yoohyeon grumbles, shifting under the covers to get comfortable again. She’d been having such a nice dream for once, too.
“Yoohyeon, I’m leaving,” The voice hisses sharply, a hand shoving the sleeping girl’s shoulder roughly.
Yoohyeon sniffs and rolls over, sleepiness fading away as her mind processes the words. She pulls the pillow away from her face and blinks up at Bora’s silhouette. She glances at the alarm clock and frowns at the time. Almost midnight. “Leaving? For what?”
Bora heaves a sigh and lifts a hand to her face. “I’m leaving, Yoohyeon,” She whispers, her voice soft and shaking.
“What do you mean?” Yoohyeon asks, lifting a hand to rub the sleep from her eyes. Her brain is still foggy, but she’s trying to wake up faster. She lifts her other hand and brings it down hard against her thigh, grunting softly at the dull ache that spreads.
“Don’t do that,” Bora says, crouching by the bed and grabbing Yoohyeon’s hand. She breathes out slowly, squeezing the girl’s hand. “You’re awake.”
Yoohyeon nods and drops her hand from her face, reaching to cover Bora’s. “What do you mean you’re leaving?” She asks again, willing her eyes to adjust quickly to the dim lighting of the room.
“I’m leaving,” Bora whispers. “I can’t…” She pulls in a breath. “I can’t stay here any longer, Yoohyeon.”
Yoohyeon stares at the girl crouched by her bedside, her heart skipping in her chest. “What do you-”
Bora chuckles, shaking her head. “Don’t play dumb,” She scolds softly. “It doesn’t suit you. I know you heard me.”
“I did,” Yoohyeon admits softly. “I just don’t understand. Why? Why are you leaving?”
Bora lets out a soft scoff at that, squeezing Yoohyeon’s hand. “Why aren’t I leaving, more like,” She says with a hint of bitterness in her tone. She stands up, pulling her hand from Yoohyeon’s.
Yoohyeon blinks, noticing the backpack hanging from Bora’s left shoulder. She peers past the other girl toward her side of the room, but the curtain is drawn, obscuring her view. She looks up at Bora, eyes wide. “You…”
“I told you,” Bora said, pulling the other strap onto her right arm. “I’m leaving, Yoohyeon. I’m not coming back.”
“Why?”
Bora blows out a breath and turns her back to Yoohyeon, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
Yoohyeon shifts back slightly to avoid being sat on but keeps quiet, watching Bora’s shoulders tense as the girl draws in a deep breath.
“They don’t love us, Yoohyeon,” Bora whispers. “They never have.”
Yoohyeon feels a swell of indignation rise up from her stomach, and she shifts. “That’s not-”
“It’s true,” Bora cuts in sharply, glancing over her shoulder at Yoohyeon. “You know how I know?”
Yoohyeon swallows back the anger and nods. She does want to know why Bora thinks their adoptive parents don’t love them. Why she feels the need to leave so suddenly.
“The littles have their own rooms, Yoohyeonie,” Bora whispers.
“Well, that’s-”
“We were here first,” Bora cuts in again. She gestures to the curtain, cutting the room in half. “And we still have to share a room.”
“They don’t have-”
“They get a check every month,” Bora cuts in once again. “For us. For adoption assistance or whatever it is. You really think any of that money goes toward giving us the best life?”
Yoohyeon swallows back her words and looks down at her lap, at the thin, ratty blanket covering her legs. She thinks of her shoes, battered and held together with duct tape wrapped around the toes. Her clothes are a few sizes too small, so her ankles are always cold, and she has to keep pulling her shirts down to keep her stomach covered.
“They don’t care about us, Hyeon,” Bora hisses. “Maybe they did before the littles, but now…” She pulls in a breath, letting it out slowly. “They don’t care. They don’t love us.”
“They do!” Yoohyeon argues, keeping her voice soft. “They do love us, they just-”
“If they loved us, why didn’t they pick you up from school when you were sick that time?”
“They had work,” Yoohyeon answers in a whisper.
“So?” Bora asks. “Any other parent would’ve come and gotten their sick kid from school, regardless of work.”
“That… You don’t know that,” Yoohyeon protests weakly.
“I do know that,” Bora fires back. “Micky was sick yesterday. He said both his parents were working. His mom showed up and brought him home.”
“Well,” Yoohyeon starts, fiddling with her fingers as she tries to come up with an excuse. She can’t think of anything and hangs her head, her heart aching. Maybe their parents don’t love them. Maybe Bora’s right.
“Ever since the littles were born, we’ve been neglected,” Bora says softly. “That’s all they’ve ever wanted, Yoohyeon. Kids of their own, and now that they have them, we’re no longer needed.”
“That’s-”
“It’s the truth, Yoohyeon!” Bora snaps, gritting her teeth when her voice comes out a little too loud. “They don’t love us. They’ve never loved us. They won’t ever love us.” She gets to her feet, adjusting her backpack as she turns to look at Yoohyeon.
“I’m leaving,” She says softly. “I’m not coming back. I only woke you up to say goodbye.”
Yoohyeon blinks and looks up at Bora, the girl she’s proud to call her big sister, and she lets out a soft breath. “Oh,” She whispers. The idea of Bora leaving her behind hits her like a brick to the chest, and tears gather in the corners of her eyes. She ducks her head, hoping to hide her tears.
“Do you want to come with me?”
Yoohyeon blinks and lifts her head again, seeing the pain on Bora’s face.
“I… I don’t want to leave you here alone, Yoohyeon,” Bora admits softly. “But I can’t stay here any longer. I can’t stand living in a house knowing that the people who promised to love us don’t actually love us.”
Yoohyeon’s lower lip starts to wobble and she sinks her teeth into it to make it stop.
“I don’t want to stay here anymore. I don’t want to leave you here, but…” Bora trails off, clenching her jaw. “Will you come with me?”
“Where?” Yoohyeon asks.
“I don’t know,” Bora admits softly, her voice softer than a whisper. “Somewhere far away from here. Somewhere where someone loves us.”
“How will we know when we get there?” Yoohyeon asks, pushing the blanket off her legs and getting up from the bed.
“I’m sure we’ll feel it,” Bora says with a soft laugh. “I’ll let you get dressed.” She reaches out and squeezes Yoohyeon’s shoulder before stepping back and crossing the room, ducking behind the curtain.
Yoohyeon heaves a breath and gets dressed. Her jeans are too small. Her shirt is too small. Everything is too small. Her shoes are falling apart and are only still together because of silver duct tape.
She grabs her school bag and shoves a bunch of clothes inside. She doesn’t have much. She zips the bag up and pulls it on, adjusting the straps so it sits comfortably against her back. “Ready,” She says softly.
“Okay,” Bora says from the other side of the curtain.
Yoohyeon crosses the room and pushes the curtain aside, seeing Bora digging something out from underneath her mattress. “What’s that?” She asks.
“Money,” Bora answers, holding up a ziploc bag full of dollar bills.
“Where did you get all that?” Yoohyeon questions with a frown.
Bora doesn’t answer, shoving the bag into her pocket and standing up, nudging the mattress back into place with her knees. “Come on,” She says, gesturing toward the door.
“Bora, where did-”
“I stole it,” Bora says quickly, moving toward the door. “Now, be quiet.”
Yoohyeon stares at Bora’s back with wide eyes. Stole it? From where? From who? Questions run rampant in her head but she keeps her mouth shut, following Bora out of the room and into the hallway.
Bora gestures for Yoohyeon to follow her as she creeps down the hallway toward the stairs.
They pass by the littles’ rooms, and Yoohyeon hesitates, not wanting to leave without saying goodbye to them. They hadn’t done anything wrong to them. If anything, the littles were the only ones in the house that did love them.
“Bora,” Yoohyeon hisses softly, pausing outside one of the rooms.
“What?” Bora hisses back, glancing back at Yoohyeon. She frowns. “Leave it,” She says.
“But-”
“Leave it, Yoohyeon,” Bora snarls. “They don’t care. Nobody in this house does. It’s just us.”
Yoohyeon can’t help but disagree with that. The littles love them like older sisters, looking up at them with soft gurgles and giggles. Her heart aches, but she keeps moving, following Bora down the stairs.
“We’ll go to the bus stop,” Bora says as they sneak through the first floor of the house. “We’ll take the bus to wherever it ends and go from there.”
“Okay,” Yoohyeon responds softly, not feeling up to argue. She glances into the kitchen, catching the time on the oven clock. Midnight. She doesn’t know how late the buses run, but she hopes it’s 24/7 for their sake.
Bora leads the way out on the porch, easing the door shut behind them. She lets out a breath and straightens up, grabbing the straps of her bag. She looks at Yoohyeon with a grim expression. “You can still change your mind.”
Yoohyeon blinks, staring back at Bora with wide eyes. “You know,” She starts softly, her gut twisting into tight knots. “If you didn’t want me to come with you, why did you even wake me up?”
Bora’s eyes narrow and she grits her teeth. “I’m just giving you the option. I don’t want to leave you here, but I wasn’t sure if you’d want to come with me.”
“So, you were going to abandon me?”
“I woke you up to tell you goodbye, you moron!” Bora snaps before slapping a hand over her mouth and glancing back at the door. She drops her hand, scowling as she heads down the porch steps and onto the sidewalk.
Yoohyeon hurries after her sister, catching up quickly thanks to her long legs. “Thank you,” She whispers.
“For what?”
“Not leaving me behind,” Yoohyeon says, raising her voice a bit as they get farther from the house.”I don’t think I could’ve handled being by myself without you around.”
Bora sighs and nods her head. “Part of me was hoping you’d come with me,” She admits softly. “I don’t think I would’ve gone if you hadn’t agreed.”
“Really?” Yoohyeon asks with a soft laugh.
“No, idiot,” Bora counters. “I would’ve gone regardless. I just… Would’ve left a lot more reluctantly.”
Yoohyeon hums at that and reaches out, finding Bora’s hand and pulling it away from the backpack straps to tangle their fingers together. She squeezes tightly.
Bora squeezes back just as tight and blows out a breath. “Okay, you can ask.”
“Ask?”
“About the money,” Bora whispers.
“Oh,” Yoohyeon breathes. In the minutes spent creeping out of the house, she’d forgotten. She swallows thickly and squeezes Bora’s hand. “Where did you steal it from?”
“Give you one guess,” Bora replies softly.
Yoohyeon sighs gently. “Our parents?”
“They aren’t our parents, Yoohyeon,” Bora counters softly.
“They’re the closest we ever came to having any,” Yoohyeon points out gently.
“Yeah, well,” Bora says, shrugging her shoulders. “They sucked.”
Yoohyeon swallows back her complaints. Their parents didn’t suck. They gave them food, a roof over their heads, and clothes on their backs. She isn’t sure what else they could’ve given them.
“It’s mostly small bills,” Bora says softly. “Nothing they would’ve noticed.”
“How long have you been stealing from them?” Yoohyeon questions softly. She doesn’t really want to know the answer. She doesn’t want to put that label on her sister.
Bora doesn’t answer right away, clenching her jaw and squeezing Yoohyeon’s hand tightly. “Promise you won’t think less of me?” She whispers, her voice shaking.
“I would never,” Yoohyeon responds quickly. “You’re my big sister, Bora. I’m always gonna love and respect you. No matter what.”
“Promise?” Bora asks, pulling her hand from Yoohyeon’s to offer her pinkie.
Yoohyeon links their pinkies together and presses her thumb to Bora’s. “Promise.”
“Since they adopted us,” Bora breathes out, tangling their fingers together again.
Yoohyeon swallows thickly. That answer scares her. It means Bora’s been stealing for years. She counts in her head and clenches her free hand into a fist. Almost four years.
“It’s all small bills, Yoohyeon,” Bora insists softly. “Nothing bigger than a twenty.”
“That’s not a small bill, Bora,” Yoohyeon whispers softly. She can see the bus stop on the horizon as they continue down the street, and her heart thumps hard in her chest. She could turn around right now. Go back home and go back to sleep in her bed.
“I know, but… It’s not like they need it. It’s probably our money anyway,” Bora says, her voice turning hard and harsh. “They won’t miss it. Just like they won’t miss us.”
Yoohyeon swallows as they step underneath the canopy of the bus shelter and take a seat on the metal bench. She could go home. While she still has one. But Bora wouldn’t be there. She’d be alone. Without her sister. She can’t do that.
“It’s not a lot, but I think it’s enough to get us far enough away from here where we can find people who love us,” Bora says softly, looking over at a sign that has the bus schedule. “We’ll get on the bus, take it as far as we can go, and we’ll go from there.”
“Okay,” Yoohyeon whispers, squeezing Bora’s hand tightly. “Just don’t leave me behind,” She pleads.
“I won’t.” Bora shifts on the bench, turning to face Yoohyeon with a determined look on her face. “We’re sticking together. We’re gonna find a home together, Yoohyeon.”
“Promise?” Yoohyeon asks, offering her pinkie.
“Promise,” Bora says, linking their pinkies together. She pulls her hand away before Yoohyeon can press their thumbs together and looks back at the bus schedule.
Yoohyeon swallows hard, her hand still held up with her pinkie extended. She lowers it to her lap and tries not to think too hard about it. They’re together. They’ll be okay if they stick together.