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Kyungsoo dreams in sight.
He dreams of the world around him. He dreams of the sky, of the soft clouds, he dreams of seeing his sister again, of being able to call his niece beautiful without having to lie through his teeth. Kyungsoo dreams. He dreams and dreams, and then he wakes up.
He remembers the first night in the hospital, he had dozed off quickly, the monotonous beep of the machines equivalent to the sheep he used to count when he was younger. His dream had been so vibrant and real that he could feel the cool breeze on his cheeks, he could hear the sound of his sister laughing beside him but as his eyes opened hours later he was met with endless white and hundred of tiny points of light dancing in front of him.
That had been years ago and he can still feel the vice-like grip his mother had around his wrist, and her voice dripping poison in his ear as he tried to hold back his tears, “Be a man Kyungsoo.”
—
The first thing Kyungsoo notices when he wakes up in the morning is that the small window at the end of his bed — couch (pull-out bed?) — is open. He never leaves it open. A breeze wafts into the room and Kyungsoo shivers, pulling the blanket closer.
He gets up slowly, mindful of the creaky floorboards, and folds up his blanket, placing it on the mattress, right on top of his pillow. Sometimes his mom will come in during the day and put it away in the cabinets outside of her room and fold up his bed. He doesn’t know why.
He slides open his wardrobe and runs his hands over the fabrics, stopping when he feels something familiar.
It had been his idea, back when he first lost his sight. He didn't want help and was determined to be able to at least dress himself without it. It took him almost 2 full days to tag each individual piece of clothing but the result was worth it. Kyungsoo’s thumb slides over the bumps on the tag attached to the hanger: grey, hoodie. He pulls it on. He does the same thing with his pants, finding a pair of dark jeans and slipping them on as well.
Kyungsoo treads carefully towards the window and closes it. The insistent sound of car horns and meaningless chatter flitting up the fire escape gives him a headache. He grabs his cane that he knows is resting against his bookshelf (he doesn't need it now but it would be a hassle to come all the way back up here for it later) and shuts the door behind him.
With his cane secured in the tight grip of his hand Kyungsoo makes his way downstairs, his free hand running along the wall to his right. The wallpaper is rough under the pads of his fingers but as he starts down the small set of stair it gets smoother, worn. His eyebrows furrow as he turns into the kitchen, the bright light of the sun causing flecks of turquoise and bright yellow to cover his vision. He squeezes his eyes closed but it does little to soothe the headache pricking him from behind his left eyebrow.
A scrape of wood against of wood echoes in the room and Kyungsoo turns towards it. Even without his sight he knows that she’s resting her chin in her hands, lips pursed. He knows she has an empty glass sitting just to the left of her plate and that she’s staring at him.
“Good morning.” Kyungsoo tells her, head bowed.
“Good morning Kyungsoo, how was your sleep?”
“It was fine — wait mum? — did you open my window last night?” His nails dig into the wood of the table as he gets closer, and starts to peel off loose pieces until he can feel a small pile forming. Her fingers wrap around his hand, stilling his movements. “Yes, I did.” she says to him, “It’s too stuffy in your room, you need some fresh air. it’s good for you.” He offers her a small smile and thanks her.
Kyungsoo pushes himself away from the table and makes his way towards the front door, but not before his mother reaches out and pulls him back with the fabric of his sweater. Kyungsoo flails and stumbles backwards, tripping over his feet.
“Where are you going? You don’t want to eat?” Kyungsoo shakes his head.
“I have an appointment today — at the hospital.” He clicks the small button on the side of his watch and a tinny voice reads out: 9:13 A.M. Shit. “I have to go now mom, I love you okay? I’ll see you later.”
He shuffles towards the front door again, wary of his mother’s movements but she doesn’t grab him again, just places a soft kiss against his temple and tells him to be safe. He grabs his coat: dark blue, and pulls it over-top of his hoodie. He palms around on the small table to the left of the door until his hand wraps around a pair of sunglasses. He places them on his face and a wave of relief washes over him. The bright light of the sun shining in through the many windows inside their house suddenly calms and he’s left with muted colors, ones he can deal with.
—
The walk to the hospital is bearable. His mother had moved them closer to it a few months after he was registered as blind so it wouldn’t be as hard for him to get to appointments such as this.
Though navigating through the streets of Seoul would be easier with a guide dog Kyungsoo already knows he can’t ask for one. His mother doesn’t like dogs. When he was first discharged from the hospital his doctor at the time had suggested it but his mother had scoffed, “Kyungsoo doesn’t need that.” She told her, “He’s strong, and he doesn’t need anyone but me.” He tried to fight her on the first few weeks of being home but she wouldn’t budge, “I’m not taking care of a dog Kyungsoo, I have enough on my plate already.” He dropped it after the 3rd time when she burst out in tears, asking him why she wasn’t enough.
After the outburst she didn’t talk to Kyungsoo for three days, and to a 19 year old who had just lost his sense of sight it made him realize how incredibly and shockingly helpless he was. On the first day he tripped over a basket of clothes in the hallway, skinning his elbows against the hardwood. On the second day he managed to burn his hands, when he turned the wrong knob on the sink in the kitchen, resulting in aching blisters forming across the back of both his hands. He managed to wrap them a few hours later but only with sheer determination and many, many tears, and on the third day he fell down the stairs. He stayed at the bottom of the steps for what felt like hours, just staring at the colors that formed until he felt his mother kneeling beside him, “Oh Kyungsoo, see? This is what happens when I’m not here to help you.”
He almost screamed at her that day, because she was here, she was around. He could hear her socked feet against the wood floors when he tripped in the hallway. He felt her walk by him in the kitchen on the second day and heard her standing outside the bathroom as he tried to find the first-aid kit. But he didn’t scream. He just cried. He curled on his mother’s lap and cried like a child.
Kyungsoo’s lips twist at the memory.
—
His appointment at the hospital is quick, just a routine checkup. He slips into Dr. Kim’s office and they talk for a while, mostly about his mother and how he’s coping. It’s been 2 years and Kyungsoo still makes the decision to come and talk to him, it’s the only thing he can control these days.
Kyungsoo refuses to admit to himself that Dr. Kim is his therapist, he’s not. He’s just a friendly doctor who wants to help Kyungsoo. That’s all. He doesn’t ask for money after the sessions are over, he just turns to him, his voice pleading, as he offers, once again, help at finding employment. He asks again today when Kyungsoo gets up to leave and Kyungsoo just thanks him for letting him come in.
“Anytime Kyungsoo, really.” Kyungsoo doesn’t doubt him.
He thanks Dr. Kim again and shuts the door behind him quietly. This particular hallway of the hospital is quiet, only the distant sound of shoes squeaking against the tiled floor reaching his ears. Kyungsoo taps his cane against the ground and the walls mapping out the hospital in his mind as he twists and turns down the hallways. He keeps track of how many turns he takes, remembering that it takes 3 lefts and 2 rights to get back to the lobby.
As he goes to make his last right he rams into something and stumbles backwards out into the middle of the hallway. It’s not as busy as it could be but a few people mumble something under their breaths as he steadies himself.
“Kyungsoo!” A voice exclaims, “Are you okay?”
Kyungsoo grins, his lips forming into the small heart shape both he and his sister inherited. Baekhyun’s hands grip his shoulders gently and Kyungsoo almost jumps at the contact. It’s been awhile since he’s seen Baekhyun and he always seems to forget how touchy he is.
“Hi Baekhyun, yeah, yeah, I’m fine — sorry about that.” Baekhyun huffs, “Don’t apologize, it was my fault I was in a hurry and I wasn’t paying attention, oh! Were you here seeing Jun — I mean, Dr. Kim again today?”
Kyungsoo nods and he can practically feel Baekhyun’s smile. “That’s good,”
“How’s Yifan?” Kyungsoo asks and Baekhyun chuckles, hitting him playfully on the upper arm.
“How’s Yifan? You’re asking me? You talk to him more than I do, and I’m his fucking boyfriend! I haven’t been home in 2 days Soo! Two days!” Baekhyun exclaims. He continues ranting for a minute or two about how he’s only able to text Yifan a few times day due to how understaffed they are and even when he does get to call him, Yifan barely picks up.
“I’ll see if I talk to him later if you want, I’m sure he’s just busy.”
“Thanks Kyungsoo — Oh shit, I gotta go, sorry!” And he’s gone.
Kyungsoo smiles to himself after Baekhyun’s gone. He’s been so busy lately that Kyungsoo’s only been able to hang out with Yifan, which isn’t a problem at all, it’s just that Kyungsoo misses him. They had met back when Kyungsoo was 19, Baekhyun was his nurse and the only person other than his mom to see him cry.
People brush past him as he makes his way down the hallway, apologizes dying on their lips as they get further and further away. Kyungsoo sighs.
The hall gets quiet again, the people passing him get few and far between, and Kyungsoo wonders if he took a wrong turn somewhere. He stops where he is in the middle of the hallway and pull his phone out of his back pocket, there has to be a map he can use somewhere. As he opens up google with the help of voice assist, he hears a slightly familiar pair of voices. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrow together as he leans toward the noise, attempting to decipher it.
Then: CLUNK!
Something soft whacks against what sounded like glass and Kyungsoo jumps. The voices Kyungsoo heard are now quiet and Kyungsoo is left in an anxious silence, waiting for something to happen.
“Excuse me!” A voice calls out, “Can you come in here for a second?”
Kyungsoo turns toward the voice and raises a finger towards his chest. There's a pregnant pause where Kyungsoo assumes the guy is nodding his head before he makes an unintelligible noise. “Just for like one second, please.” He pleads and Kyungsoo sighs.
He taps his cane around in front of him and it met with an open door. He shuffles inside and stops a few feet away from the door.
“What do you want?” Kyungsoo asks him and the guy shifts around on the bed, making the springs creak.
“You’re blind?” He asks and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.
“What do you want?” He tries again.
There’s some more shifting and then the guy sighs. “I need the remote — wait don’t leave! Please my nurse put it too far away and I’m not suppose to get out of the bed, do you really want me to break the rules here man? I could really hurt myself.”
Kyungsoo stares into the empty space before him, eyes flitting back and forth between the soft squeaks of the bed-springs and the guy’s weirdly hypnotic voice. He takes a step backwards, ready to leave, but the guy’s child-like wine makes him flinch. He could be on his deathbed. Kyungsoo isn’t a monster.
“Uh, where is it?” The guy cheers.
The next few minutes are filled with Kyungsoo randomly groping various objects placed on the night-side table until the guy laughs victoriously and clamors forward to take the controller out of Kyungsoo’s hands.
“You did that on purpose,” He accuses, his voice reminding Kyungsoo of caramel. He grins and leans forward, elbows resting on the curve of his cane, "Did what on purpose?”
The mattress shifts again against Kyungsoo’s thigh and then, after a beat, something hits the mattress, like the boy had lifted one his arms then dropped it. “You picked up my book three times! There’s no way you thought that it was the remote!” He’s right. Kyungsoo just wanted to fuck with him.
He stands there for a moment before he realizes that he should probably get home, his mother is probably worried about him. Something must show on his face because the guy pokes Kyungsoo’s forearm with his finger.
“Thank you for your help.” Kyungsoo can hear the smile in his voice. “I’m Chanyeol, by the way, if you were wondering at all.” He wasn’t but it’s nice to know.
“I’m Kyungsoo, it’s nice to meet you.” He bows his head forward and it knocks gently against what Kyungsoo can only assume is Chanyeol’s own skull. He takes a step forward. Chanyeol scrambles on the bed, “Sorry Kyungsoo!”
Kyungsoo rubs at his forehead, it didn’t hurt much, just surprised him. “What were you doing?”
He goes silent for a beat, “I was just looking at you, is that creepy? You just look healthy and, uh, your lips are very cute.” Kyungsoo’s face heats up.
“Uh, thank you.” He mumbles under his breath. “I can’t really say anything about you, so, sorry about that.”
Chanyeol laughs and Kyungsoo can feel his whole body shake with it. “That's okay! Just like, have you ever seen Captain America — oh wait —”
Kyungsoo interrupts him, “Yes I have, before,” He waves in front of his face, “This happened, why? Are you trying to tell me you look like Chris Evans?”.
“No, I’m not a white guy, It’s just my friends always say: I’m like the weird self-cest baby of pre-serum Steve and post-serum Steve.” A pause. “That sounds gross, forget I said that.”
Kyungsoo grins, a slight chuckle falling from his lips. “Why do they say that?”
“Um, well, I have the height — not of the small one — the tall one, I’m really tall, and the immune system of small Steve.” Kyungsoo goes to say something but he cuts him off, “Does that make sense?”
Kyungsoo nods, “So you’re a really tall guy who gets sick a lot?”
“It’s like you’ve know me my whole life Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol tells him. Kyungsoo laughs.
After a few more minutes of mindless banter a nurse makes his way into Chanyeol’s room and almost smacks Kyungsoo across the head with the clipboard he’s holding for bothering his patient after visiting hours. He apologizes to the nurse and turns to leave but something grips the back of his sweater.
“It was nice to meet you Kyungsoo, I hope we can talk again soon! Come visit me!” His voice is excitable and Kyungsoo can feel his arm shaking from where he stands. He wonders if he ever gets any visitors other than those weird friends. Kyungsoo grips his cane.
“I’ll see you later Chanyeol.”