Chapter Text
The snow gently floats down, greeting rosy cheeks among those brave enough to step foot outside. The streets hum in silence as they slowly get coated with a layer of sugar, soft and fluffy, a temptation for children to stomp on the next morning.
Han Yoojin looks out the car window, covered with droplets from his breath. Today is a day that should fill him with giddiness, but instead, a small sorrow permeates his body. His fidgeting could be felt across the seat, stumbling into Han Yoohyun. It’s only when he feels a small hand slip into his that he stops. Yoojin looks over and peers into a pair of dark eyes before letting out a small smile and reaching out to ruffle the curly hair.
“Yoojin-ah, your 10th birthday is today. Let’s go out for a nice dinner!” Yoojin recalls. His parents, who were normally never seen at home under the pretense of a business trip, had shown up today. It was a normal occurrence that Yoojin paid no mind to, content with his world being occupied by just him and Yoohyun alone.
Yoojin’s eyes light up at his mom’s suggestion to go out, but as fast as it comes, the happiness snuffs out just as quickly. There is something unspoken between his parents and him that came with the question.
Yoohyun.
If Yoojin says yes, it would come without a doubt that his little brother would be left behind in the house. To him, there would be no point in going without Yoohyun, his small solace amidst a world of abandonment.
Han Yoojin says no, but for some reason, there is a hint of hysteria when his parents grab tight onto him.
“Come on, don’t be like this Yoojin-ah! Your birthday only comes once a year, let’s all go out.”
Except “all” did not mean everyone.
Part of him wanted to be accepted by his parents. After all, he was just a child. Someone who needed a guardian to take care of him. But how could he? When the same warmth offered to him was coldly denied to another.
A twinge of guilt fills Yoojin, remembering the night he almost left behind Yoohyun. Leaving him on that park bench in the dark, almost swallowed by the night. It didn’t matter to Yoojin that he was just a child himself. It only mattered that he was monster enough to entertain the thought of leaving behind his own family.
Thoughts flood into Yoojin’s mind, tears on the verge of spilling out. He manages to pull out of his spiral as his mom continues to tug on his shirt, his father standing near the entrance door with his face turned away.
It seems that guilt was a trait commonly found among the Han family. Yoojin manages to look at his mom. Her eyes are pleading, begging.
Yoojin knew if he said yes, it would signify something stifling that settled among the cracks and into the dust of the household. This acceptance would lead to the denial of another; it was not without a cost. In truth, for Yoojin’s parents, it would mean a certain kind of validation that they were not the odd ones for abandoning a child. It meant that the three could go back to their old life, ordinary and happy.
For a child who had just turned 10, it was a temptation stirring in his heart. But Han Yoojin was stubborn. The pain of wavering once at that park bench was already enough for him to realize he would never do it again.
“It’s my birthday,” he says. “Shouldn’t I get a wish granted for it? I won’t ask for anything else.” He begs.
There is a look of defeat in his parents' eyes, but Yoojin’s request is not without reason. Perhaps this would be the last time the four would be seen together. And maybe, it would help keep up the facade to the prying eye that they were just a normal family, out for a birthday dinner. At that moment, Yoojin feels something crumbling, a last defeat, a last wish granted. The hand on the hem of his shirt loosens as it falls.
“It might seem weird that a birthday dinner for Yoojin did not include his… younger brother”, his father, who has been silent the entire time, finally reasons. The name Yoohyun is left unsaid, as if it was something that would burn their mouths if spoken out loud.
Everyone might be watching us. His parents think.
A reason concerning those outside the family determined who in the household would be allowed to attend a birthday dinner.
Yoojin feels something small clench in his hands, and he is pulled out of his thoughts. The dark pair of eyes continue to stare at Yoojin, but he drowns in another memory, farther off. Yoojin can’t help but feel that he is spiraling. No matter how deep he falls, how far the drop is, guilt always chases him like a dog.
That particular day was painted a deep red. There’s a bench with a small Yoohyun sat on top, feet dangling above the ground as they mindlessly swing back and forth.
Their days are typically silent, occasionally filled with mindless chatter from Yoojin. Yoojin doesn’t mind. Yoohyun was always a quiet person, often speaking one syllable at a time. Silence has always been a comfortable thing for them, something gentle that seeped between the two and became a routine.
However, that day’s silence was something prickling, like TV static on a hand went numb. Yoojin fleetingly thinks that maybe he should go home alone this time. And he does. Yoojin squeezes his hands, knuckles turning white, leaving crescent moons on his palm. He feels the dampness on his hands. Silence follows Yoojin to the front of the house. What once was comforting had turned into something suffocating.
He half expects his brother to follow, but Yoohyun is nowhere to be seen when he turns around. The deep red day had since dimmed into a fading purple, and Yoojin could only reach out to grasp at the air. He chokes. Fear forces tears out of his eyes as he hurriedly turns to run back. Yoohyun still sat on the bench, quietly and obediently.
“I’m sorry,” Yoojin says.
“Why?” Yoohyun asks.
Yoojin doesn’t answer. Tears slip out as he reaches to grip Yoohyun’s hands. He pulls them back in the direction of the house. The sky has now lulled into deep black where stars slowly reveal themselves, staring down impassively. Twinkling and mockingly.
That was the day Han Yoojin left himself behind for the sake of his younger brother.
Before he can lose himself in the past, there’s a pull of gravity that shocks him back into the present. The car swerves and the seat in front of him blurs before Yoojin can register what’s happening. Right before the sound gets muffled there’s a screech of the tires. Headlights from the south sweep over into Yoojin’s eyes, blinding him.
There’s no time to react, only a fraction of silence, and the seconds slow down. Yoojin vaguely hears the sound of metal crashing, feels himself jerked into the air. Fragments of something sharp dig into his arms, but the only fear he feels is Yoohyun in front of him, being thrown in the opposite direction.
The car flips and Yoojin tries to grab Yoohyun, but the last thing he sees is a splatter of red as his little brother is yanked away, shattering the car window.
February 7th was a day meant for Yoojin, however, it was a night that would forever twist into another meaning.
—
When Yoojin wakes up, the snow has already piled up to form a thick blanket. There’s the smell of something burning, rubber mixed with gas. The stench stings his throat and waters his eyes. Gray smoke obscures his vision, but there’s one thing Yoojin is certain of: Yoohyun isn’t next to him.
It takes a few seconds for Yoojin to reorient himself. The car is flipped, the top partially caved in. He is upside down, dangling. Despite the damage, the radio was on, crooning out a warped tune, mixing with static as it struggled to sing. The snow continues to fall relentlessly, a sharp bitter cold drifting in. On the other side, headlights from another car pour into Yoojin. The brightness mixed in with the lingering smoke makes it difficult to see. Somewhere afar, he hears the sound of strings flowing out of the other car. The melodic tune overlaps with his own car’s distorted voice, haunting.
He’s blocked by the seat in front of him, but Yoojin can see long strands of hair spilling down, intertwining with a trail of red that drips slowly onto the roof of the car. Arms dangle down, swaying slightly as the wind slams against him. When Yoojin notices a ring on the fingers in front of him, it finally registers that it’s his parents.
He was too focused on Yoohyun the moment he woke up, instantly feeling an emptiness from the usual warmth that was always beside him, a sharp pang in his chest. There’s no remorse for the lack of regard towards his supposed guardians; Yoohyun always came first in his mind.
He tries calling out to his parents, but there’s no response. The seatbelt tightens against his chest, making it difficult to move. It isn’t until Yoojin tries to shift that he feels stabs of pain in his body. He glances down and finally notices shards of glass buried into his skin.
The seatbelt digs into his throat, but the short gasps of breath don’t come from the strap’s constriction. A panic washes over him at his missing younger sibling as his breath comes out in short pants. Yoojin claws at his neck, unable to think clearly and with only one goal in mind: to find Yoohyun.
By now Yoojin notices the feeling of blood rushing to his head as he hangs from his seat. Before the terror completely settles in, he manages to unbuckle his seatbelt, crashing hard onto the hood of the car. Gritting his teeth in pain, Yoojin crawls out the door on the other side, scraping through broken glass in search of his little brother sprawled out somewhere. Each step is stained with blood, mixing in with a pool of crimson that gathers in different pockets across the ground.
Yoojin’s steps are laced with pain, but he continues to push against the growing snowstorm, face gradually turning numb against the biting cold. Paying no mind to the blood that drips down from his arm littered with shards, Yoojin clutches it as he tries to search for a glimpse of Yoohyun.
In the distance, he sees a sleek, black car, the hood partially caved in, seemingly fitting in like a puzzle piece with the smashed doors of his parent’s car. It must’ve been the car that crashed into them, Yoojin thinks. There is smoke drifting out of the windows, shrouding the people within it. In the midst of white, among ice clinging to the yellowed grass, crushed black pavement, and gray fumes floating into the sky, Yoojin swears he sees a glimmer of gold.
Immediately, his attention turns to a small bundle sprawled in the middle of the road, streaked with streams of blood that spread further away from the center. Yoojin trembles. His slow staggering breaks into a run, one limp after another pacing faster and faster until steps stop abruptly in front of a stained red.
Yoohyun.
There was no doubt who was in front of him. Amid snow and fire, heaven or hell, Yoojin would always be able to recognize his brother. The rhythmic sound of Yoohyun’s breath, the ruffling of his curly hair. These were all things Yoojin came to understand. He crumbles.
“Yoohyun-ah,” he cries out. Han Yoohyun, wake up.
Yoojin reaches out to cradle him, hands frantic as he tries to gather warmth back into the small, broken body. He wipes the blood from Yoohyun’s face, only managing to spread it. The smear of red sends him into terror. There’s something faint, a weak breathing that sputters out at uneven intervals from Yoohyun. It’s a small hope that Yoojin clings to, a big relief that spills out as proof that he’s still alive.
Tears pour out of him, bleeding in with the red. He clutches Yoohyun with shaking hands, tugging the ends of the bloodied clothes in a fleeting attempt for a semblance of consciousness to stir.
“Yoohyun-ah, don’t worry. Hyung’s here, so please. Please wake up,” Yoojin begs. He rocks back and forth, brushing away curly bangs away from closed eyes. Snow and wind billow against his back as he hunches over Yoohyun, protecting him against the cold.
Soon, the sound of tires screeching joins Yoojin’s sobs. Headlights from a car shine against him and a faint shout can be heard from a distance. Doors slam and rushed footsteps crunching against the snow approach him.
“Hey, kid, are you okay?” A pair of hands tries to separate Yoojiin from the child in his arms, but Yoojin strengthens his grasp.
“They’re in the middle of the road, it’s dangerous. We need to move them to the side of the road.”
“Both the kids look badly hurt. Shouldn’t we minimize moving them in case of causing more injuries?”
“Who knows which next car might slip on the ice on the road in front of them- you already saw our own car almost crashed in this weather."
Yoojin faintly hears murmurs and shouts as he curls himself into Yoohyun. The hands that were insistent on separating the two soon gave up only to scoop up both children.
“Have you called 119 yet? There is another car on the other side of the road. We need to check if there are people who survived.”
“I’ll call, I’m going to take a look at the other car. Make sure you get the kids to safety.”
When Yoojin comes to his senses, he finds himself sitting against a tree. His head tilts up, branches covering his vision. Snow flutters between the gaps, nestling on top of the brothers. Across from him is a middle-aged woman looking at him with concern. Her eyes brighten up when she notices his eyes slowly coming back to focus.
“Kid! Can you hear me? It’s gonna be okay, we’ve called the ambulance!” The woman frantically extends her arms to clasp Yoojin’s fingers into her hands, “They are coming to take care of your brother and your parents.”
As soon as Yoojin hears “brother”, he shifts his head down in panic, lifting his arm to touch Yoohyun’s cheek. The blood has partially dried into cracks, the once bright red darkening into black. Yoohyun’s face has paled into something as cold as the snow surrounding them, lips losing color as life seeps out.
The once faint, weak breathing that had come out at uneven intervals has slowed down. The small piece of hope that Yoojin bound closely to his heart was slowly slipping from his grasp, but he didn’t let go, holding on tight. His shoulders shake, as words escape in fragments.
“Yoohyun… please… hold on… a little longer…please…” Yoojin rests his forehead against Yoohyun, soft whispers falling out of his lips, fervent and begging. With each breath he takes, he feels the heartbeat opposite to him slowing down.
For the first time, Yoojin prays. He doesn’t know how much time has passed. With each sob he lets out, only silence greets him. It doesn’t matter how hot the tears that spill against Yoojin’s face are, how vehement his prayers are, or how tightly clasped his fingers are together; God’s response is cold.
The small hand that twitched occasionally in Yoojin’s hand was the only remaining warmth passed to him. And soon, it vanishes. Yoojin does not believe.
The body that is cradling in his arms. The blood that trickles against the pure white. The cold slowly hunting the fading warmth. The breath that was lingering soon disappeared.
Yoojin desperately clings to the seconds that pass, but for Yoohyun time has already stopped.