Chapter Text
A sneeze
“Hachi”
Soft rustling, thudding, and the sound of someone rummaging around, gentle whispers and the distant screech of a chair.
Followed by another “Hachi” this time heavier, irritable. Like an impatient earthquake that is eager to disturb the calm.
A warm afternoon, after yet another ordinary, unremarkable school day that was steadily becoming routine for the boys.
“Yo, you got some allergy or something?” Suho grumbled, slightly annoyed with a soft vigor in his voice.
“Tsarism? Or Sarmascus?”
Why couldn’t Juntae just get the word right?
Oh. Right, it was “sarcasm”.
There was a faint trace of sarcasm in Suho's tone. Others might have described Suho’s manner as snarky or even rude, but the four boys instantly knew he didn’t mean it that way.
Suho.
Calm.
In control.
Impatient. Or patient?
Lazy.
Sarcastic.
Loyal.
That’s the words Sieun had used to describe Suho.
It has been three months now since Suho got discharged from the hospital.
Where they saw him for the first time in a wheelchair. It felt like forever ago, yet Hyontak remembered that day clearly.
The winter had been so cold, and yet warmth lingered in Sieun’s gaze.
There he was, now looking at them.
“Who are they?”
Sieun followed his gaze. Nothing in his face changed. It was a look that showed fondness and affection.
“My Friends”
That day he made another important friend. But that was three months ago, now they sit at a fully cramped desk together every week after school. Be it at a Café or in the library.
Juntae had been the one to come up with the idea.
Since they missed a lot of important school stuff after everything they’ve gone through the past couple of months, he introduced the idea of forming a “study group”.
They found it almost ridiculous- of all people, it was the guy who couldn't even pronounce half the words correctly, who twisted idioms and crafted his own vocabulary. The very same one who had always claimed such things were completely unnecessary.
And yet, eventually, after a while they naturally met up and gave in on the idea of forming a study group. At first the meetups were chaotic. But gradually- they began to adjust.
Hyun-tak never thought it was necessarily a bad idea, he just always felt he was the only one that couldn’t move on after everything.
Still, it wasn’t so bad right?
Healing from the past was their own responsibility. No one would do it for them.
Ending up like a certain someone was not on his list.
“Gotakkkk, whats ya mom cooking today?” asked Humin with a grin curved like the Cheshire cat.
Idiot.
Hyun-tak shot Humin a glare, raising a brow. “Ya why the fuck are you so greedy? Ask her yourself dude.”
His face turned into a grin. With one vigorous move he grabbed Bakus shoulder and shoved him playfully around.
The Café was filled with soft laughter.
Suho turned to look at them.
“I’m so fucking hungry right now. And gotak since when are you such a momas boy?”
Juntae burst into loud laughter, this time a little too loud.
“YA, are you taking Humins fucking side now?“
Hyun-tak tore a sheet from his notebook and crumpled it into a ball, carefully looking around with a look that said “Whos bold enough?”
He caught Sieuns gaze. There was a slight shift in his eyes.
Impossible.
He looked quite troubled, not like his usual nonchalant self.
And then a hungry growl escaped his stomach.
Silence.
The place was like it froze in time.
Then a chuckle, from Hyun-tak himself.
“I imagined anyone doing that but you.” Humin added, grinning.
Baku seized the chance to tease Hyun-tak
even more.
“How could you betray Gotak like that” he sang, stretching the last word like a gum.
A moment later, the paper ball hit Humin square in the face.
The walk home was quiet.
By now, everyone was hungry- no coffee in the world could fill their stomach. And it certainly couldn't compete with the cooking from Gotak's mom.
Marched like soldiers they walked behind eachother, well except for Sieun and Suho, walking on the front side by side like in the old days. Their faint murmuring filled the silence, talking about homework, videogames, just catching up
Juntae trailed behind them glued to his phone like the paper.io warrior he was, occasionally squishing between suho and sieun as if he belonged there.
Behind them came Hyun-tak and Humin. Both staring down on their phones, sharing a few words to fill the gaps. It was a comfortable silence until a loud, personalized ringtone pierced through it.
From no other than Hyun-taks Mother.
The green and red button reflected in his eyes. Without thinking he clicked on the green button. He always clicked green. Red meant stop, it felt unsafe to him.
Sometimes he wondered if other kids feared the green button as much as he feared the red button. But he couldn’t imagen it, not when he loved his mother so much.
Soft rustling on the other end quickly pulled him out of the thought train.
“Hyun-tak, dear. Are you kids on the way yet?” came her voice, faint and warm.
More rustling “Dear, I can’t hear you” in the background the sound of sizzling broth and static TV murmur.
Hyun-tak put her on speaker “Mom, u need to put the Phone to your ear” he answered calmly.
“There you are my son! I cooked Jejuk bokkeum and broth, with your favorite side dishes”.
7 p.m.
The couch was the best refuge for Hyun-tak after he filled his stomach with more than he could take. Warmth enveloped him like a blanket, until he jolted up again in one swift motion.
From the living room he saw all his favourite people gathered, helping eachother clean up.
Plates once filled with food were licked clean, like they had never been touched, no leftovers in sight. Even the Musaeng-chae bowls only had a few stray raddish specks sticking to them.
Slacking off wasn’t an option.
Suho and Humin gathered the plates, stacking them like a domino tower. Drowning out all the chatter from clinking and moving chairs around.
Nobody let Hyun-taks mom lift a finger.
Now Gotak stood at the sink himself, blue sleeves rolled hallway up. Hot water ran over his rough hands, which were once useful. It hurt, but he didn’t complain.
Easy with the Soap, he reminded himself.
Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Humin.
The boy was balancing a tower of dried plates on his arms like a clown, playing servant.
That’s when Hyun-taks mind drifted into a dark territory.
How was Baku really coping with Baekjins death?
It wasn’t like he thought about it constantly, after all they were kinda healing.
Together.
But death isn’t something you just move on from. Not when things ended like they did between Humin and Baekjin. It was a blank spot that no one dared to touch. He didn’t have the right to just pry into it. Besides, talking about feelings was sometimes rather... weird.
They were still teenagers. Not therapists.
But Hyun-tak felt it, guilt and anger piling up.
As childish as it sounded, sometimes that anger was directed at Baku. His best friend. His everything
Hyun-tak knew he wasn’t perfect, much less a perfect friend. Some emotions he could never stop from creeping up. Yet he promised himself to never let sentimental feelings get in the way of their friendship.
Baekjin wasn’t at fault- neither was Baku.
Who would even have the guts to blame a dead person?
To Hyun-tak, Donald was just a fool. A troubled kid who made his fucked-up feelings and personal matters everyone’s problem.
On the other hand, Gotak had to blame someone.
And that said Person was alive and well.
Tuesday, 9 p.m.
Hyun-tak the little errand boy. On the way to a small convenience store near his apartment complex.
Black and white Vans squished through the wet pavement, past streetlights and LED signs. Passing cars that drove over the speed limit and splattered dirty rain. The peaceful atmosphere was disturbed by loud squeaking tires and distant chatter.
He walked for a while; his gaze turned to his phone.
The chat between him and Humin opened, who was complaining about bad randoms in LoL.
Hyun-tak let out an amused scoff. He could be just as pissed right now, but he wasn’t. He was doing a favor for his mom.
Up ahead he could already spot the convenience store between the familiar café and the laundromat. Eager steps splashed the rain aside, as if he was a magnet repelling the rain.
Hurry, who knows how long Humin could survive in League without help.
The thought made something warm up inside Hyun-tak. They were doing so well until his mom interrupted the session because they were out of Milk.
He approached the shop and took cover from the drizzle that left the sky and chased him.
At the counter with a milk carton in his hand and a 1000 won bill between rough fingers, on the other hand a phone, his phone. A blue case. Gotaks favourite color.
Hyun-taks nose couldn’t escape the intrusive smell of cigarettes for how long he was standing in line. He felt a sense of Déjà vu, like he had smelled that specific scent one too many times.
Fucking Cigarettes.
He noticed a slightly taller boy in front of him asking for two packs of Marlboro.
The cashier, visibly tired and pissed, just looked him up and down with a degrading frown. “Hey kid, you don’t seriously think you can bullshit me, right? Want to get me fired?”
He looked around and pressed the security button that unlocked the glory of many different types of cigarettes. A Loud metal hiss escaped the air from the shutter rolling up that had been blocking them.
Dude, can they hurry up.
Hyun-tak glanced at the cashier and then at the boy in front of him, seeing how quickly he turned impatient.
The boy scoffed and fidgeted nervously with his hands in his pockets.
“What is this? Just give me two packs you fucker, am in a hurry” came from the boy. His tone was amused, yet sharp.
The voice stirred something in Hyun-tak.
It can’t be…?
Was this Geum fucking Seongje standing in front of him?
Just saying the name in his head felt like smashing a vase 100 times on the floor. The shards cut him open everywhere.
Hyun-taks throat went dry.
What is this clown doing here?
I gotta calm down.
He can’t do shit here.
He watched the scene in front of him unfolded, expectantly, impatiently. The situation felt so raw, so unfamiliar. He couldn’t figure out what the hell Seongje was doing here, asking for cigarettes on a random Tuesday.
And that he didn’t live in that area was not even a question.
Does that Guy even have a home?
Questions. They rushed through his head but came to a stop.
The cashier turned slightly away from the cigarettes and snorted. He took a pack of Marlboro and slammed it on the counter.
“One pack you brat. Acting like a chain smoker”.
But Seongje only laughed, the laugh felt different though. Hyun-taks gaze wandered to Seongjes fist, crumpling won bills.
He tapped one foot impatiently on the squeaky floor, posture still the same old crooked broom as before. But there was a slight crack in his demeanor, only for a split second.
Hyun-tak felt worried for the cashier but was slightly amused at the sight all at once.
After all it was Geum Seongje infront of him, not some random wanna be gangster. He was certainly not someone to make fun of, not when you are involved.
Still, it felt casual; Hyun-tak had never imagined seeing Seongje in a situation like that, it felt like he had landed in another dimension.
Geum Seongje getting humbled? Fucking hilarious.
Seongjes mouth curved back to his “normal” creepy smile.
There he was again, as if it was that easy.
His attitude shifted so fast, like it was a death sentence to be caught vulnerable.
Seongje threw the bills onto the counter and took the Marlboros.
“Keep the rest, ahjussi”
While smoothly pulling a cigarette from the back and slipping it between his lips, he mumbled something to himself.
“Feels like fucking charity”