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It takes Kei 6 seconds to run 50 meters.

It only increases from there. It’s 12 seconds for a hundred meters, 2 minutes and 40 seconds for a thousand meters, and 4 minutes and 5 seconds for one thousand five hundred meters. And, of course, not to forget his marathon timings. The last time he’d done a 5 kilometre run, he’d clocked 14 minutes and 30 seconds. It wasn’t record-breaking, but he felt pretty good!

Running was a craft he’d honed over years of rigorous training, endless morning practices and blistered feet the kiln that moulded and fired him into the athlete he was today. He used to complain about the drills and sprints and counts that his trainer made him do. Today, it was as easy as breathing. Kei ran through the rhythm in his head as he stretched. One, two, three. He cracked his neck and took off.

The early sun was a gentle caress against his cheek as he made his way around the neighborhood. The town was just starting to wake up, birds chirping their morning calls as the shopkeepers slowly rolled up their shutters. He sped past all of them, waving at the old ladies setting up stall at the market. They caught sight of him, chuckled, and waved back. “Kei!”

“Yes, obaachan?”

“When you’re done with your run,” The lady at the vegetable stall waved a bag of oranges in his direction. “Come back here. I’ve got some clementines that I want you to bring along when you go.”

Kei blinked. His feet, relentlessly jogging on the spot as she’d spoken, stuttered slightly. “Oh, what? How’d you know about it?”

“Your friend — what was his name? The tall one? No, not that one,” Hobbling slightly, the woman cut Kei off as he opened his mouth to speak. “Ah, yes, I remember. Jo, was it? He came by with that other boy of his, the scary one.”

“Nicholas?”

“All you little ones with your fancy names,” The lady dumped a bag of onions into a basket. “They were very sweet, the two of them. Always making sure the other one was safe when they were carrying my crates for me. Why don’t you do that for me anymore, huh? Insolent child.”

Kei barked out a laugh. “Well, if you really want me to…”

“Pah!” The old woman scoffed. “I won’t force you to do anything. Anyways, you’ve got much more to think about, now that you’re moving away. Now shoo. Go back to your meaningless running.”

In response, Kei laughed and resumed his run, bidding her a quick farewell as he went. The old lady barely so much as spared him a glance.

The road before him split into two. A branch left, a branch right. Kei always took the left, slanting his body as he steered himself in that direction. It was always a little dangerous to be running on the road, but there were no pavements in this area. Still, he was always careful. On autopilot, his feet took him around another block, following the main road, before he stopped outside a house.

This house was nothing special. If anything, it was run down and abandoned. Dilapidated, scuffed concrete held hints of blue chalk drawings and acrylic paintings, a feat amidst the test of time. The walls were covered by endless overgrowth and swirling flowers creeping up the side. The gate, once a clean and polished black, had flaked off in little chunks to reveal rusted metal. It’d clearly been a long time since anyone had set foot in here. The last owners had moved out years ago, and no one had bothered to take care of it since.

There were plenty of run-down houses in their quiet town, but Kei had a particular affinity for this one. Readying himself, he positioned his feet right outside the gate, before taking off in a dead sprint. He’d established a routine each day, making it a personal challenge to see just how long it would take him to reach his house. It was approximately 500 meters away, and in theory he could make the trip in 1 minute and 20 seconds. That wasn’t good enough, though. He needed to aim higher. 1 minute was his goal.

His lungs burned as they heaved, and his calves felt as though they were tearing and fusing back together with every push he pumped into his sprint. Still, he pressed on. The road took a bend, and he followed it, feet slamming against the pavement as he flew through the air. The world blurred around him, the grey of the gravel and the green of the trees bleeding into each other. He slammed into his front gate with a loud crash and checked his watch.

1 minute and 2 seconds. Close, but not good enough.

There was a sharp pain that sliced across his chest. He must’ve overexerted himself with that sprint. Groaning, he pushed himself off the gate, blowing his sweat-drenched bangs out of his face as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. There was the faint smell of meat and the sound of sizzling oil wafted through the air, and Kei followed it to the kitchen, where Taki stood, apron tied and spatula in hand.

“What’s on the menu today?”

Taki spared him a glance. “Bacon and eggs. Go and shower, and it’ll be done soon.”

“Aww, my dearest little brother,” Kei cooed as he ruffled Taki’s hair. “You’re so sweet! So cute. I raised you so well.”

Disgruntled, Taki swatted at him with the spatula. “You didn’t raise shit. Now go and shower. You stink.”

In response, Kei wrapped him up in a bear hug. Taki’s shrill shriek of disgust did nothing but bring a smile to Kei’s face.

By the time he stepped out of the bathroom, towel slung over his shoulder, Taki was scooping the last of the food onto the plates. Kei did a quick scan of the kitchen. “Are we expecting guests? Why’re there so many plates?”

Taki slid one dish over. The bacon glided across the plate, slick with grease, and crashed into the fried egg next to it. “The other are coming over today. They said they’d help you pack up, remember? You only have a few days left, so we gotta double check that everything is shipped properly. Nothing that could leak, nothing breakable, no —”

“You’re such a mother hen, did you know?” Kei rolled his eyes playfully as he picked up the plates and set them around the table. “Always so doting and naggy. Oh, I’ll set the cutlery. Everyone’s coming, right? So nine sets in total.”

“No, it’s — nevermind, I’ll handle the forks and stuff.” Taki batted Kei’s hand as it reached for the drawer. “You just bring out the plates and go wait. I’ll do the rest.”

There was an odd lilt to Taki’s voice that made Kei’s brow furrow. Eventually, though, he shrugged and walked out of the kitchen. Taki had always been a little strange, though that was what made him so special and unique. As a child he’d been so energetic, so full of life and laughter, but the years had mellowed him out. Sometimes, Kei would just be talking, and Taki would suddenly get this unreadable look in his eyes, as if a heavy weight had settled on him. Maybe it was growing pains. Maybe it was the grief of shedding your childhood skin and stepping into adulthood. As the older of the two Kei had wondered multiple times before if he should ask him about it, if it was his responsibility to help Taki shoulder the burden. He decided against it. Taki would come to him when the time was right. All he had to do was wait.

The front door creaked open, and Kei shot up from his seat. In flooded all his friends, clamouring and rowdy as they fought their way to the dining table. Fuma and Nicholas, the only exceptions, were hanging to the back as the younger ones blazed their way through his house. They’d barely said hello to Kei. Which was probably natural, at this point, given how many times they’d come over. Some of them had been making almost daily visits since Kei had announced he was leaving. He hoped that they’d still do so even after he was gone. It was good for Taki to have some company.

He made his way over to the two older men, both of them deep in conversation with one another. “Hello, you two,” he grinned. “Not going to fight Taki for the extra breakfast bits?”

At the sound of Kei’s voice, Nicholas’ face dropped into a blank expression. Fuma at least had the grace to look up and smile at him. “Nah. The kids can have it. Ready to pack up your whole life today?”

“Don’t say it like that, oh my god.” Kei groaned, but the grin never left his face. “I’ll still come back sometimes. How are you, Nicholas? Grumpy as always?”

Kei reached forward playfully, hands cupping as it brushed the skin of Nicholas’ cheek. With a sharp inhale, Nicholas flinched back, slapping his hand away. The sound of skin meeting skin was a loud crack that echoed across the house.

The room went quiet.

“I — uh, sorry, Kei,” There was a long pause before Nicholas frantically spoke. He let out a nervous chuckle. “‘S just, you know. That move is — yeah. I didn’t mean to react like that. Sorry. That was mean.”

“It’s alright, Nico,” Kei blinked as he tried to process everything. He’d sworn that Nicholas hadn’t been this touch-adverse… ever, really. The boy loved showing his affection and hugging people. He treated any kind of physical contact like water to a plant — he drank it all up, all the time. But perhaps today just wasn’t his day. It was still pretty early, after all. Nicholas wasn’t a morning person; maybe the fog of sleep had yet to leave his brain. “No offense taken. Let’s go eat breakfast?”

Breakfast was a boisterous affair. The younger ones had too much energy this early in the morning, and managed to bicker non-stop while shoveling food into their mouths. Across the table, Nicholas was picking at his food, moving slices of bacon around in circles as if on a carousel. Kei caught his eye and raised one eyebrow. Not hungry?

Nicholas ducked his head and ate his food.

Odd. Was he feeling ill? His face looked fine, albeit a little thin. Someone should look out for him. If Kei hadn’t been swamped with getting things ready to move, he should have checked in with him. He was a little ashamed to admit, but it’d been a while since he’d made time for his friends. Outside of them crashing his home, he hadn’t invited them out for anything nice. He should do that before he left. Bring them out for a dinner or something. It would be fun.

Before long, the eight of them had polished off all their food. Maki followed Taki to help him with the dishes, but the rest of them trailed behind Kei as he made his way to his room. Kei cracked his knuckles as he rested one hand on the doorknob. “Alright,” Kei grinned as he turned back to face the others. “There’s gonna be a lot of stuff we have to get through today. You guys ready?”

A chorus of yes, okay sounded from the group. With one deep inhale, Kei threw open the door.

In the beginning, there were not nine; there were only four.

Kei and Taki had always been in the town. They were born in the local hospital, learnt how to ride a bike in the park behind the town hall, and went to school in the same elementary, middle, and high schools. There really wasn’t much choice, especially in a small place like theirs. Some of the neighbour’s kids went to a school a way away from the main train station, but it was more expensive and would have taken an hour to get to each morning. So the local school it was.

It wasn’t bad, though. Everyone knew each other here; word travelled fast and there were always new stories to tell. Everyone knew which cliques there were, who to go to for what favour, if the teacher down the hall was in a bad mood because he’d been losing his horse racing bets. Again. And it wasn’t just school, either. Everyone in the town was connected. If a new family moved in, by afternoon the whole town would have pictures. That was the case when a family of four filled in the vacant house nearby Kei’s home. Foreigners, the aunties had whispered at the market. Cute kids, though.

Kei had been curious. That day, he’d packed up his bag extra fast, grabbed the soccer ball that he’d been playing with at lunch, and rushed out of class the second the bell rang. He ran as fast as he could to the gate of the new neighbour’s house. He’d jogged past it before, but they’d clearly put in effort to clean up. The black gate sparkled and shone, and the leaves and dirt on the floor had been swept away, revealing a grey porch. Kei pressed the doorbell and waited.

One beat, then two. The front door creaked open, and a small boy’s head popped out.

To put it simply, this boy was round. Round eyes, round cheeks, and an even rounder face. His lips were full and pouty, and even his hair had been cut into an unfortunate bowl cut, which did nothing but make him look like an egg with a hat. Very round. Very cute. The boy’s eyes darted from Kei to the ball in his hands, before he opened his mouth and spoke something Kei didn’t recognise.

“What?”

The boy’s mouth opened again, before he clamped his mouth shut. His face screwed up in concentration as he forced the syllables out. “W…ho?”

“Oh, me?” Kei pointed at himself, and the boy nodded eagerly. “I’m Koga Yudai. But everyone calls me Kei. K-e-i. How about you?”

The boy’s eyes became impossibly rounder. He stared at Kei mutely, and, with a start, Kei realised that they were slowly growing glassy. “Wait, no, was I speaking too fast? I’m sorry, my mom tells me I speak too fast, and I need to let others speak too —”

Now the boy’s eyes were definitely filling with tears, and he tried to turn away to stifle the sniff that escaped him. Kei panicked. He lifted the ball and held it out to the boy. “Don’t cry. Ball… play?”

“Chuggu?”

“Uh, yes, sure,” Kei had no idea what he was saying, but a small smile was creeping across the boy’s face, so he figured he was doing something right. “We can chuggu. Yes.”

The boy giggled, a soft, quiet noise that barely reached Kei’s ears, but he brightened at the sound. There was something gentle and cute about this boy that made Kei want to jump on him and gnaw at his cheeks. He pushed the thought aside. If he did that now he’d have the police called on him. He beckoned towards him, and with a nod, the boy slipped on his shoes and followed. They waited for a car to speed past before crossing the road to the grass patch a short walk away, where they played soccer for a good few hours.

Kei would learn that the boy was pretty decent at soccer, but terribly clumsy. He lost count of the number of times he’d slipped while trying to kick the ball, and Kei laughed so hard he got stitches. He would soon grow to be a permanent fixture in Kei’s life, close enough to let himself into Kei’s home whenever he wanted to. Taki took to him almost immediately, and the boy was pliant and willing to follow along with his antics, no matter how silly. A year from then, a Taiwanese family would move into the town, and Kei, Taki and the boy would go to their house to say hello. They would meet a thin boy with sharp eyes. He would introduce himself as Nicholas Wang, smile so brightly that Kei wondered why they’d even be afraid of him in the first place, and make them play badminton with him.

Many years later, the boy with round eyes and rounder cheeks would tell Kei that he’d been badly scolded the day they’d met. “My mother was so worried that I’d disappeared,” he’d grin. “Said that she thought I’d been kidnapped. Which, I guess you did. Taking advantage of this poor Korean kid, really…” Kei would whack him over the head, and he would go down in a shout of laughter and endless giggling.

The boy’s name was Byun Euijoo.

“Okay,” Kei clapped his hands together. The rest of the group, scattered to different parts of the room, looked up. “We’ve mostly gone through the essentials that I need. The rest of the stuff we can start de-cluttering. If there’s something you guys want to take home, you can have it.”

A cheer sounded out from the corner of the room. “Yeah!” Maki grinned as he ripped open another box. “Free stuff! I’m going to resell them when you become a famous marathoner. Then I’ll make big bucks and never have to ever work again.”

“If my stuff ever becomes that valuable, I’ll be the first one to sell it off.” Kei snorted. “Paying for my early retirement dream. Though, I doubt I’ll become that big. Becoming one of the best marathoners is hard enough; I don’t think I’ll ever get famous enough for people to want my…” He picked up a random paper on the ground. “Childhood… drawing of a… bear?”

“It’s possible, though,” Harua picked up a trophy and chucked it at Kei. It bounced off Fuma’s shoulder, and the man caught it before it hit the ground. “You’re good. Like, freakishly good at running. They knew what they were doing when they scouted you for their team. Where are you going, again?”

“Seoul,” Kei hummed as he opened another box. This one was filled with even more certificates and medals. “At least it’s a place that I kind of know the language. Anyways, even if I can’t, Euijoo’ll help me.”

He rifled through the box, seeing if there was anything worth keeping in it. No dice. It was all track meets and elementary school podiums of fake metal. He set aside the box and opened another. This one was full of old pens and worksheets. Damn. Why’d he hoard so much junk? These boxes had been sitting beneath his bed for decades. It’d been so long since he’d opened them that he’d half convinced himself that they’d turned into treasure in the meantime, the same way that time could transform a grain of sand into a pearl. Unfortunately, he was no oyster. He couldn’t make things into something they were not.

It took him almost a full minute to realise that his friends had gone silent. The air was stagnant, with only the absentminded ruffle of items at the bottom of a box to line the quiet. Nicholas had his back to him, as did Taki. The others were exchanging glances, furtively mouthing words to each other. Finally, Jo caught Kei’s puzzled gaze and sat up a little straighter. The mood turned razor-sharp.

A nervous chuckle bubbled out of Kei. He tried to brush it off with an awkward smile. “What’s up with you guys?”

The other boys continued to glance at each other, all of them trying to avoid Kei’s eyes. It was honestly a little irritating. There was a silent conversation unfolding right before his eyes, and no one was bothering to let him in on it. Did he say something wrong? He quickly ran through his words in his mind. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. He pressed his tongue to the edge of his teeth. “What?”

“Kei-yah,” Fuma began. There was a tension to his soft tone, as though he was about to let a child down slowly. “When’s the last time you talked to Euijoo?”

Kei frowned. “What do you mean? We just talked a…” His mind was coming up blank. That couldn’t be. Euijoo’s presence was so strong next to him, it couldn’t have been that long ago. Was it on a call? Euijoo was out of the country, after all. Surely they’d called. “Maybe, like, a few…” Huh. He really couldn’t recall. Well, it’s not like he remembered or took note of every single time he’d met up with his friends. He was notoriously bad at those things, anyway. “Not that long ago. Why? I’ll meet him in Seoul at some point. Maybe he can take me around.”

Standing up, Nicholas set the box he’d been holding on the ground and stomped out of the room. Kei blinked as the door slammed behind him. Wow, Nicholas was seriously being weird today. What was up with him? First the aversion to touch, then the breakfast, and now he was banging doors shut. He should make a note to check up on him before he left. “Is Nico alright? He’s been weird all day.”

From the corner of the room, Taki sighed. “He’s just got a lot on his mind. But Kei, you should clear things up before you leave, you know? You don’t have a lot of time.”

Kei made a noise of frustration. “I would, but I don’t know what he’s upset about.”

“Yes, you do.” Taki stood up and hefted a box off the ground. “And please… talk to Euijoo before you leave, too. Who knows how many more chances you’ll get. Now, who has stuff they want to throw out? I’m pretty sure no one wants this box of Kei’s old exam books.”

In many ways, the four of them — Kei, Nicholas, Euijoo, and Taki — became inseparable.

Not literally, of course. When Kei was in high school, Nico and Euijoo were in middle school, and Taki was still a tiny elementary school boy with a bag too big for his back. By the time Kei had ended school and his track club training, the sky was always a darkening shade of blue, dimming into night with every step he took towards home.

And yet, the other three would always be there waiting for him.

Kei and Taki’s parents were rarely home, their jobs taking them all over the world for the better part of the year. When the other two had found out, they’d dragged them to their homes and begged their parents to let them stay for dinner. It became routine for them to crash one of their houses for a meal after school, and then squeeze into a bedroom to finish their homework together.

Kei would’ve felt ashamed of this new system, but the relief of someone looking out for Taki overrid everything. For months now the young boy had walked himself home, let himself into the house, cooked himself lunch, and done his homework patiently while waiting for Kei to return. Kei had tried, of course. There were days where he’d skip lunch to run over to Taki’s school, send Taki home, then run back to school barely in time for the next class. It was a completely unsustainable routine, but he’d really done his best. Unfortunately, his best hadn’t been enough. He swallowed his pride every time he saw Taki being doted on by Nicholas’ and Euijoo’s parents, and forced a smile instead.

The good thing about being in such a nobody of a school was that absolutely no one expected them to produce any sort of outstanding talent. So when Kei entered high school, ran a 5 kilometre run in record speeds at the club trial, and asked the coach how’d I do?, he was immediately snapped up. The team’s coach refused to let him go, and vowed to hone him into the finest athlete the district had ever seen.

Today was one of those days. Kei had dragged himself to Euijoo’s house after a long, gruelling physical training session. His coach had demanded that he cut his marathon time by one minute before the next national event in two weeks, which was doable, sure, but it was also hell. His feet burned with every move as he rang the doorbell. Euijoo opened the door, and Kei swayed and grabbed the doorjamb as his legs gave way.

“Oh my — Kei, hey, get up,” Grabbing Kei by the arms, Euijoo tugged him into the house. “Wow, today must’ve been rough, huh? Come on. Dinner’s on the table.”

“Shit, sorry, Euijoo.” Kei tried to lift himself up, but could only plant one knee on the ground before he was collapsing again. “Could you set me down somewhere? Just need to rest for a bit.”

Instead of heading to the dining table, Euijoo yanked him towards the couch. With a small heave, Kei was tossed on the soft cushions, body sinking bonelessly into the plush. “Thanks, Joo,” he mumbled, his mind already letting out an internal sigh of relief. “‘S nice.”

He let his face fall onto a pillow. With his eyes closed, he could only vaguely feel movement on the tail end of the couch, where his legs were. His calves were lifted delicately, touch gentle as they quickly lowered them onto a raised cushion.

“Joo?”

“Shh.” A hand lightly pushed his head down when he tried to lift it. “Just rest for a bit. We can always heat up the food again later.”

Fingers caressed his calf, pressing and kneading their way down his leg. Kei groaned and let his arms flop to the side. He had so much to do, had to check up on Taki, had to clean the house soon, and of course he couldn’t forget thanking Euijoo’s mother for the meal, as he always did, and apologise for lying on her clean couch with his dust-caked track uniform.

But oh, it was so warm. So soft. Every protest that Kei had died on his lips as Euijoo’s palms smoothed over his aching flesh. His cool touch soothed the heat in his legs, easing the burn until it slowly faded to nothing. He let himself collapse, completely this time, onto the couch. The darkness swirled behind his eyes before sleep tugged him under.

When he next came to, his mind was hazy. There were voices around him, talking excitedly in hushed tones. Vaguely, Kei could make out Taki’s enthusiastic voice, energy barely muted by the whispering he was doing. “Can I wake him? Can I, can I?”

A small tsk, before Euijoo’s calm voice responded. “No. He’s tired, and needs the rest. Don’t disturb him. Nichol, move away. Don’t go so close to him.”

A shadow casted over Kei. He staunchly kept his eyes shut. “Aw, but Juju,” Nicholas whined. “He looks so funny. Lemme take a pic?”

“Your shutter sound is too loud. It’ll shock him awake.” The hands on his thighs resumed their kneading. A thumb pressed a little too hard, and on instinct, Kei’s leg jolted. “Shit. Nichol, can you help me carry him to my bedroom? The couch isn’t very comfy.”

“He’s too heavy.” Nicholas’ voice grew softer. With a soft thump, he plopped down beside Euijoo, the couch sinking slightly under the weight. “Let’s just sleep here instead. I’m tired.”

A whoop of joy sounded from Taki as he burrowed his way into Kei’s arms. “Okay! Nap time! Let’s all sleep, now.”

“Taki, didn’t I just say… oh, whatever.” Euijoo sighed. Kei shifted slightly to let Taki rest his head on his shoulder. “We have time. Let’s sleep. Mom will wake us up if it gets too late.”

Euijoo’s mother did wake them up, eventually, but not before snapping a picture of the four of them fast asleep on the couch. She forwarded the image to Kei’s phone, and he rolled his eyes and complained about how horrible he looked in it. Later that week, he headed down to the school library, printed out a copy, and pasted it on his wall. It stared at him every time he did his homework.

At 8:30 a.m. sharp, Kei was up and ready for his morning run.

As always, the world was still slowly rising from its slumber, a fog of sleepiness still drifting through the air. The dew coated the leaves in a shiny, cool layer, and a small breeze brushed by Kei as he stretched. He took off down the road and towards the market.

The old lady from the day before was setting up stall, as per usual. She waved him over as he jogged by. “Kei! You stupid boy, I told you to come take the clementines yesterday!”

He laughed as he came over. “Sorry, obaachan. Was a bit distracted yesterday. I can take them now, if you want.”

The lady scoffed as she swung the bag of fruit at his head. With a shout of laughter, Kei caught it and wound the handle around one fist. “Go share them with those friends of yours before you leave. Don’t let it spoil.”

With a quick wave goodbye, Kei made his was down his usual jogging path, fruits swinging like a pendulum with every step. It wasn’t ideal for him to carry something so heavy with him as he ran, but he could manage. He reached the branch in the road, veered left, and paused as a motorcycle sped past, brushing inches away from his body. Wow. He would not miss these roads, what with their poor visibility and no consideration towards pedestrians. He continued on until he could make out the abandoned house.

A deep breath in, a press of the timer, and he was off. His feet slammed against the rocky pavement, the shock reverberating up his body. He pushed on. He rounded the corner, crashed into the gate, and stopped the timer.

1 minute and 1 second. So close.

Not enough.

Groaning, he swung the gate open and stomped into the house. Today Taki was not yet awake, and the house was still and stagnant. Kei walked to the kitchen and pulled out a pot. It’d been a long time since he’d done the cooking. Taki had taken over that duty in recent years, and had quickly surpassed him. Still, Kei only had a few days left in this town. He should make something for his little brother, as a treat. He set the bag of clementines on the table, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work.

Midway through stirring the pot of soup, the front door creaked open. A lone figure shuffled in, hood tugged over his head. It took him a few seconds to register Kei standing in the kitchen, staring at him; but once they made eye contact he froze. “Kei-hyung?”

“Nicholas,” Kei widened his eyes. “I didn’t expect you today. Taki’s still asleep, if you’re looking for him.”

“Oh, no.” Hands stuffed into his pockets, Nicholas looked away. “I came here for you, actually.”

To say that Kei was shocked would be an understatement. They may have been close, once, but over the years they’d drifted apart. Nowadays they only hung out when there were others around. Hurriedly, he turned off the stove and approached Nicholas. “Okay, you have me. What’s up?”

Nicholas was silent for a moment. “I wanted to apologise. For yesterday. I shouldn’t have stomped out like that. It was… rude of me. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, dear, don’t even worry about that.” Kei waved his hand. Grinning, he slung his arm over Nicholas’ shoulders. “Aww, our little Nico, were you all worried about it?”

“Kei, I’m being serious,” Nicholas batted his hand away, the corner of his lips curled downwards. “I acted out, and it wasn’t fair to anyone else, but especially to you. I just…” Here he swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing as his jaw clenched slightly. “Sometimes, I hear Euijoo’s name, and I get… I don’t…”

“Hey, hey, Nico, it’s okay.” Alarmed, Kei patted Nicholas on the back as his eyes grew glassy. “We all miss Euijoo. It’s normal. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise for it, okay? We’ll just go talk to him sometimes.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” There was a churning in Kei’s stomach, like something was pressing against his gut in an attempt to get out. Pain clawed its way up his side, and he winced a little as it twisted around his lungs. It was probably just hunger. He had been in the middle of making lunch, after all. “You should stay for lunch. Go sit down, I’ll get the plates out.”

Nicholas ducked his head. “Oh, I wasn’t planning on staying long.”

“That’s stupid. Go sit.” Ignoring Nicholas’ protests, Kei pushed him towards the table and forced him into a chair. “Just relax and eat. Taki’ll be down soon. It’ll be fun, just the three of us. Just like old times.”

There was a faraway look in Nicholas’ eyes, a thousand-meter stare stretching between them. “Yeah,” he mumbled as he picked at his nails. “Just like old times.”

“What are you doing?”

Kei tried not to flinch at the heavy weight that dropped on his shoulder. Euijoo’s face might be round, but his chin was still sharp. It dug into the dip of his collarbones. Shifting slightly, Kei slouched down and lifted his paper to give Euijoo a better view. “Career planning. What do you think I should put?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The crown of Euijoo’s head tilted forward, and suddenly half of Kei’s view was blocked by a shock of dark hair. “Aren’t you gonna be a runner? Or, uh, what’s the word for the long-distance ones…”

“Marathoner?” Kei snorted. “Yeah, no. That’s just a hobby. I mean, it’s fun, and I like it, but it’s not, like…” He scrunched up his nose. “It’s not career-like, you know?”

“Why not?” Euijoo shrugged. “I looked it up. There are professional marathoners around the world. You could get a job on the side if you wanted to, sure, but you could still do it as you main thing.”

Kei tossed the paper at Euijoo as he got up, lifting his chin off him as he spoke. “Sure, but you’d need to be the best of the best to do it competitively. It’s not sustainable, and it’s unrealistic.”

“You’re the best of the best,” Kei could hear the pout in Euijoo’s voice. “If you really wanted to, you could turn it into a real career. Everyone thinks so. The teachers wouldn’t even question it if you wrote it down.”

It’s not as though Kei had never thought about it. It’d been the logical train of thought, one that had tried to leave the station a long while ago. Kei had always dragged it back to the rail yard. He was good, sure; but to gamble his entire future on the slim possibility that he’d be the best felt dangerous. He had too many things to think about. Taki, for one, was still in school; he deserved someone who would be there consistently. Kei didn’t want to abandon his little brother for the sake of his pipe dreams.

“I just think that it might be better if I chose something more stable,” Kei chose to tell Euijoo, “that would be something I could actually achieve.”

“I really think you could do it, though,” Euijoo was kind but stubborn. He would never insist, but he would always nudge gently, a little blinking light in the corner of his periphery that refused to go away. “You were top three at Nationals. The recent race in Tokyo, too. If it makes you happy and you’re good at it, you should go for it.”

“How about you, Joo?” Kei didn’t want to hear about himself anymore. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Euijoo flopped down on the floor, head resting on Kei’s lap. Mercifully, he did not ask about Kei’s shift in topic. “I’m not sure. I’m not really good at much.”

“That’s not true.” Kei frowned, tugging lightly at Euijoo’s cheeks. God, they were so round and soft, like little pillows of dough. It was Kei’s favourite pastime, to play and knead them as he wished. Euijoo always protested, but he never stopped him. “You work hard, Joo. It’ll pay off. It always does.”

“Yeah, but I’m not good at things the way you or Nico are.” Euijoo turned his head away. The strands of his fluffy hair brushed against Kei’s calf, and he resisted the urge to scratch it. Instead, he lifted his hand to card his fingers through the tresses. “Nico keeps telling me to just try new things, but I’m not that kind of person. My grades are average at best. My hobbies aren’t outstanding. I’m really, really normal.”

Kei ignored the tremble in Euijoo’s voice, and instead spoke. “Okay. But, what if, in a perfect world where you could become anything — what would you want to become?”

Euijoo was silent for a while, and Kei worried for a moment that he’d fallen asleep. Just as he was about to shake the other boy, Euijoo spoke. “Maybe a pilot. I don’t know. I like flying, and when I first came here, I was kind of scared, but the pilot’s voice through the speakers was… calming. Grounding. I want to be like that.”

Kei resisted the urge to coo at him.

“Don’t start your sappy stuff, hyung,” Euijoo barely gave him a chance to respond. “Anyway, you’ll put it down, right? Marathoner?”

“Sure,” The words left Kei before he could think about it, but he doubted he would’ve ever responded otherwise. Who was he to turn Euijoo down? “I’ll put it down. For you.”

Kei had been fully prepared for Nicholas to leave after lunch. Instead, the boy had finished his meal, thanked Kei for the food, and had made his way to his room. They were now sitting on the floor, the last few boxes of items scattered between them.

Their friends had sorted through most of his items yesterday. Some they’d thrown out, but each of them had taken at least a box of stuff home. Maki had had to load all of Kei’s old trophies into the back of Fuma’s car. Why he’d decided to keep those, Kei had no idea. Maybe he’d been serious about the whole reselling thing.

The boxes that Nicholas were now sorting through had been tucked away at the back of his closet. It was a part of the room that Kei had always overlooked, a void of a storage space that he’d forgotten about. For some odd reason, Nicholas had made a beeline for it the second he’d opened the door. He’d stalked over to the cupboard, slid his hand all the way to the back, and yanked the boxes free. Kei hadn’t realised that Nicholas knew of those boxes. Maybe he’d mentioned them to him before?

A short chuckle startled Kei out of his thoughts. “Look,” Nicholas grinned as he held up a photograph. “It’s us.”

It was the photo of the four of them, sleeping on the couch. “Wow,” Kei laughed as he took a closer look. “We were so small then. How’d we all fit?”

Nicholas shrugged as he set the photograph on the ground, movements careful and gentle. “Who knows? You ate more, then. Look at you now; you’re so skinny.”

“You sound just like Taki, oh my god,” Rolling his eyes, Kei reached for another box and opened it. “‘Make sure to eat your food! You eat too little, Kei!’ Honestly, I eat just fine. There’s no need… oh, look. It’s a bunch of old report cards.”

Nicholas barked out a laugh as he scooted closer. “You kept… your report cards?” He picked one up at random. “Wow, hyung. How bad were you in school that math was your best subject here?”

Kei could feel the heat rising to his face. “Shut up, Nico. I’ve seen your grades. They weren’t any better. Did you ever write an essay that got over a B plus, huh?”

With a wave of his hand, Nicholas went back to digging through the box. “This isn’t about me. Everyone has different strengths, and mine just happen to not be in school.” He frowned and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Why’s this report card so dirty? Did you try and throw it away or something?”

The card in question looked like it’d been through the wringer. It’d been flattened by the weight of everything else in the box, but the bumps and creases made it clear that it’d once been crumpled up and crushed. There were streaks of black running across the page — not flowing, the way ink did, but instead like an eraser had torn across the paper in a hurry. A friction burn that had scorched itself on the paper. One corner was even bumpy in a way that could only come from water soaking through.

Somehow, though, most of the ink was still intact. Kei squinted as he tried to make out the words. “Oh my goodness,” He finally spoke. “This isn’t mine. This is Euijoo’s.”

Nicholas’ head whipped around at record speeds. “What?”

“Yeah — see, look, that’s his name,” Kei turned the paper around to face Nicholas. “Did I take his report card on accident? That’s crazy. Why would I ever want it?”

“Euijoo was crazy meticulous about keeping his report cards, too,” A frown line creased its way onto the space between Nicholas’ eyes, and Kei resisted the urge to reach out and press it away. “He used to give me so much shit about keeping my cards, too. Scolded me each time I’d just throw them in my bag. He had a whole folder for them, so how’d this one end up with you?”

“Maybe he gave it to me?” Even as he said the words, Kei didn’t quite believe them. A report card as a gift was absurd. Euijoo knew better than to do that. “Well, doesn’t matter. I’ll pass it back to him the next time he visits.”

A pause, and then, “Kei, do you really think he’s coming back?”

“Well, why not?” Kei tilted his head as he looked at Nicholas. “His family moved out, sure, but he knows we’re here. He’ll come visit, or we’ll go see him. I’ll give this back to him then.” He made a face. “Though, I don’t know if he’ll want this back. It’s kinda dirty.”

Nicholas looked hesitant. His eyes scanned Kei’s face — up, down, up. Kei had no clue what he was looking for, but it seemed that he didn’t find it. He sighed, pushed back his bangs, and flopped on the floor. “Well, since you’re moving out, do you want me to hold on to it? In case he…” Nicholas paused to swallow harshly. “Comes back, suddenly.”

Kei halted. It wouldn’t be too bad of an idea to leave it in Nicholas’ hands. Yet something in him fought back, a sharp pressure in his chest that bloomed from the very center. He shook his head. “I kinda want to hold on to it for now. If that’s okay?”

Nicholas’ face fell. When he finally responded, his smile was hollow. “Okay, Kei. You can have it.”

It was almost 10 p.m. when Kei’s phone rang.

“Hyung, hyung,” Euijoo’s voice, excited and breathless, sounded out from the speaker. “Sorry it’s so late, but there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

Kei laughed. Euijoo was like a little puppy sometimes, with his bright eyes and happiness as blatant as a wagging tail. “Go ahead. Oh, happy graduation from high school, by the way. How does it feel?”

“Like I’m finally free, yes!” Laughing, Euijoo fumbled with the phone for a moment. Static crackled through the speakers before Euijoo next spoke. “Sorry, sorry. Nico was asking who I was talking to.”

“Oh, is he there with you now? Tell him I said congrats, too.”

A moment of silence, before a yell sounded out, a distance away from the phone. “Nicol! Kei says congrats on passing your exams! He didn’t think you’d make it!”

“That is not what I said, you brat,” Kei couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. “Are you staying over at his house today? Sleepover celebration?”

“No, he’s at my house — wait, hyung, I want to show you my report card, but also I have something to ask,” Euijoo took a deep breath, before stopping. “Actually, wait. You’re home now, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come over for a bit?” Euijoo’s voice was stable and cheery, but Kei could tell there was an undercurrent of nervous energy. He blinked. What could have gotten him so worried? Didn’t he know by now that Kei would take whatever he gave him in his stride? There was nothing Euijoo could ask of him that would make him like him less. Definitely there were moments where Kei questioned his logic, but ultimately… well, Kei knew Euijoo. And Euijoo knew Kei. There was no questioning their loyalty. Euijoo would never do anything to hurt Kei, and he must’ve known that Kei would never do anything of that sort, either. “I have something to tell you, and then I’ll go.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I came over?” Kei stretched as he got out of bed — or tried to, at least. He’d spent most of the day at the track, training from morning until the sun dipped below the horizon. He’d just finished washing up when Euijoo had called. “I can — urk — walk over and say hi to Nico too.”

A strained chuckle escaped Euijoo. “Uh, maybe you should stay there. It’s something I just wanna tell you. I’ll be quick, I promise.” A pause. “Also, are you sure you can walk, old man? I heard that noise just now. Your legs are hurting again, right?”

“I’m not old, I’m just tired.” Kei flopped back on the bed. “Fine. You can come over. You know where I am.”

“Alright.”

“Wait, Euijoo.” Kei spoke before Euijoo could hang up. He swallowed. “You know you can tell me anything, right? And that I won’t, like, turn you away?”

A short hum. “What are you talking about, Kei? Of course I do. I’ll be over soon.”

“Okay.” Kei closed his eyes. “Come over, then. You can let yourself in when you get here.”

The lady wasn’t at the stall.

Kei had eaten one of her clementines before he’d left the house today. It’d been sweet and tangy, the juice running down his arm as he’d taken a bite. Even now the stickiness clung to his skin as he jogged. He slowed down as he passed the wet market. Frowning, he approached another stall, manned by a younger lady wearing large rubber boots. “Excuse me,” he called, “Do you know where the yaoya obaachan went?”

“Not here today.” The woman barked out as she grabbed a fistful of fish from her bucket. Kei resisted the urge to cover his nose. “Move out, boy. Unless you want to be hit by a fish?”

Kei had never left so quickly.

It would be a shame, he thought to himself as he continued his run. The old lady had always been kind to him. He hadn’t been the most helpful, and truthfully he hadn’t known much about her apart from her role as the owner of the fruits and vegetable store, but he’d liked her. He’d hoped that he’d get one last chance to say goodbye to her before he left tomorrow morning. That was impossible now.

He ignored the pang in his heart, and ran a little harder.

Down the street, a turn left, and down another block. His feet carried him down the route he’d ran for years. Maybe he should’ve felt a little more upset that this would be the last time in a while that he’d be running here. Instead he felt nothing. Just the wind racing as he did, legs straining as he flew down the roads. Maybe it just hadn’t sunk in that he was going to leave. Or maybe he just didn’t care. Maybe both. He rounded the corner that led down the street to the abandoned house.

But something was different today.

Two figures stood in front of the gate, one talking animatedly while the other leaned on the flaking metal, arms crossed. With a start, Kei realised that they looked oddly familiar. “Nico! Fuma!” He grinned, speeding up a little until he stopped right in front of them. “What are you two doing here?”

Fuma greeted him back, but Kei watched as Nicholas’ shoulders startled slightly. Without turning to face Kei, Nicholas nodded and started walking away.

“Hey, wait, Nico,” Kei rushed forward and grabbed Nicholas by the shoulder, yanking him back. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

He made the mistake of catching Nicholas’ eyes, red rimmed and blinking back moisture. Tracks of dried tears had etched themselves on his cheeks, and his skin was pale and blotchy. Quickly, Nicholas tried to look away, but it was too late. Kei had seen everything. Dread pooled in his stomach as he stepped closer, crowding Nicholas in a corner. “Nico? What happened? Talk to me?”

He lifted a hand to wipe the fresh tears that had begun to fall. Quick as a flash, Nicholas batted his hand away. Kei recoiled. It wasn’t odd for Nicholas to be a little embarrassed when he’d been caught crying. He’d done it plenty of times when they were kids. But this was the first time that he’d outright rejected Kei, refusing even a simple touch or gesture. Was it something that Kei had done? To his knowledge, they’d gotten along pretty well yesterday. They’d cleared the boxes, thrown out the last of the trash, and Taki had even convinced Nicholas to stay for dinner. Overall, wasn’t that pretty amicable? Kei had thought that everything had been settled. Apparently not.

“No,” Nicholas’ voice, shaky yet simmering with an unexpected rage, echoed down the empty street. “No, don’t you dare. I’ve spent years trying to handle this myself, don’t you dare start pretending like you care.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Of course I care —”

“Kei,” Fuma cut in lightly. He wedged his body between Nicholas and Kei, flattening his arm against Kei’s chest in an attempt to push them apart. “Maybe we should all take a step back and —”

“Get out, Fuma,” Kei crossed his arms and scowled. “I’m leaving tomorrow. If Nicholas has something to say to me, he’d better say it now.”

Nicholas pushed himself to stand face-to-face with Kei. Despite his glassy eyes and dishevelled hair, he still had the gall to scoff in Kei’s face. “Honestly, what’s wrong with you?”

“With me?” Biting down on his lip, Kei leaned back and closed his eyes for a moment. Nicholas had always been headstrong, so quick to act and quick to anger. Kei had to remind himself to be the bigger person. “I’ve been nothing but nice and kind to you, and you’re throwing that back in my face? Look, Nicholas, I love you , really, but isn’t this a bit much?”

When it came to Nicholas, Kei always tried to be a little more patient. Nicholas was a Taiwanese who’d been thrown into a foreign environment. He had a lot of dreams and plans, and he never let anyone stop him. What had he said, once? That he’d crawl on his hands and knees as long as he never gave up? It was just like Nicholas to be stubborn to the bone. Still, Kei’s patience had worn thin. He took a deep breath.

“So you still won’t admit it.” Nicholas pressed two fingers to the crown of his head. “Of course. Of course! What did I expect? That you’d miraculously change after four years?”

“Change… what?”

“Tell me honestly,” Nicholas barrelled on. “Really, truly. And don’t you dare lie. Where do you think Euijoo is right now?”

Kei threw his hands in the air in frustration. He hadn’t been the best friend, he knew, and he didn’t keep tabs on where all of them were at all times. What kind of vague question was this? “I don’t know, Nico! Somewhere in Korea, probably? I don’t know exactly where he is now. He’s living his best life overseas somewhere, that’s all I know —”

A pained noise escaped from the base of Nicholas’ throat. “No. You’re seriously…”

He lunged.

Fuma gave a shout of warning, but it was too late. Two hands reached up to grab Kei by the collar, lifting him up as Nicholas dragged their faces closer together. Choking, Kei grabbed Nicholas’ wrists, yanking at them in vain. “Nico, Nico, it hurts, let go —”

“Yeah? Well, serves you right.” The snarl that Nicholas spat at him was laced with venom. Up close, Kei could see the fire burning within his eyes, even as they spilled over with tears. “I don’t care for your stupid games anymore, Kei. When are you going to finally admit to yourself that Euijoo is gone? You were there when it happened. You saw it too. Euijoo is dead, Kei! He’s not coming back!”

It takes Kei 6 seconds to run 50 meters.

It only increases from there. It’s 12 seconds for a hundred meters, 2 minutes and 40 seconds for a thousand meters, and 4 minutes and 5 seconds for one thousand five hundred meters. And, of course, not to forget his marathon timings. The last time he’d done a 5 kilometre run, he’d clocked 14 minutes and 30 seconds. It wasn’t record-breaking, but he —

Oh. He’s said this before, hasn’t he? Sorry.

The distance between Euijoo’s house and his is approximately 500 meters. In theory, he could make the trip in 1 minute and 20 seconds. It wouldn’t be a bad timing, especially for the Kei from four years ago.

It is not, however, the fastest speed in the world. Take, for example, a car. A car travelling at 120 kilometres per hour would take 15 seconds to travel 500 meters. It’s basic math. Time equals to distance over speed. Basic kinematics. Everyone knew that.

Euijoo, on the other hand, was far slower than both Kei and the car. At a leisurely pace, it took the boy two minutes to walk from the front gate of one house to another. He’d always loved to take his time, nevermind that he had long legs that he could’ve just stretched a little to cover a bit more distance each time. Silly boy. Kei adored him and his little eccentricities.

At 10:02 p.m. on a random Friday, Euijoo had been walking over to Kei’s house. He’d just wrapped up his graduation ceremony, and now he and his best friend, Nicholas, were having a sleepover at his house. But Euijoo had insisted on visiting Kei anyway; and Kei, who was a fool who never knew how to say no, agreed. And so he’d been walking, report card in hand to show Kei, taking a stroll on the road, because the local government hadn’t had enough money to build them pedestrian pavements. It was terrible, but it’d been that way for years. No one batted an eye at it anymore.

On the same street, at 10:02 p.m., a car sped down the roads of the little town they lived in. It’d been a quiet night, and almost everyone had gone home. No one had expected there to be anyone else on the road.

There was a sharp turn in the 500 meters between the two houses. Most people who lived in the area knew to slow down, check before they turned, because there was a significant blind spot. But the couple in the car was not from around these parts. They knew nothing of the local unspoken traffic rules, only that the roads were empty, and that there were no speed cameras. So they pressed down on the accelerator and let the engine roar.

It is a difficult feat to outrun a car. Even Kei, at top speed, would not be able to do it. At best he could run just enough to dive to the side and let the car zoom past. But there was no beating a speeding vehicle, not when it was right in front of you. Kei would barely live. Euijoo didn’t stand a chance.

Euijoo left his house at 10:02 p.m. By 10:04 p.m. he was dead.

“No,” Kei stumbled back, tripping over his feet until he fell down. “No, no, no.”

In front of him, Nicholas let his fists drop to his side. All the fight had drained from him in an instant. In its place was a deep emptiness that hollowed out the light in his eyes and left his cheeks sunken and pale. “It’s true. We have to face it, Kei. You know what happened.”

Kei waited — prayed — for Nicholas to let up on the joke. Any moment now, he told himself. Any moment now he’ll break out into a smile and say, just kidding! It’s just a joke! But the punchline never came. Nicholas looked as miserable as ever. Kei felt his stomach plummet.

The memories did not come flooding back. Instead, they revealed themselves to him slowly, creeping from out of the shadows. It was as if his mind had known that he’d have to face it someday, and had stored it in the back of the closet of his brain. Hah. How trite.

He remembered hearing the bang. He remembered thinking nothing of it for a second, before recalling that Euijoo had planned on coming over. He remembered rushing out into the street, praying that the knots that were twisting itself in his gut were simply products of his overactive imagination. But it was too late. He saw the blood. He saw the red. He’d known, immediately, that Euijoo was gone.

The report card that Euijoo had been holding had miraculously survived. It’d fluttered onto the road at some point, landing underneath the tires of the offending car. Dazed, Kei had tugged it out, careful to not tear the edges. He caught a glimpse of the results. Straight As. On instinct, his lips quirked up, and he turned to Euijoo to congratulate him.

One flash of red, and Kei was thrown back into reality.

He could feel the asphalt underneath his palms, gravel biting into the tender flesh of his hands. Once it’d been a dark night, Euijoo’s body lying on his lap while Nicholas, from up the street, ran over while screaming in alarm. Today it was bright as day, but now Nicholas and Fuma were standing over him, eyes filled with nothing but pity.

“He’s not,” Kei tried. “He isn’t —”

“Look around you, Kei.” Fuma squatted down until he was at eye level with Kei. “This house — you remember it, don’t you? There’s a reason why you come here each time you run. You and I both know this is Euijoo’s old house. His family may have moved out years ago, but you still find him here, don’t you?”

Kei opened his mouth to scream. No sound came out.

“I can’t keep doing this, Kei,” Nico sat down in front of Kei and grabbed his hands. “We can’t keep doing this. I know you had the worst of it, but please, I want to move on, too. You can’t keep pretending that he’s still alive. It only hurts all of us.”

Nicholas’ hands were shaking. Maybe Kei’s were too. He couldn’t tell. Everything was so cold and burning hot at the same time, a flash fever that wracked his body from head to toe. Head spinning, he began babbling. “I don’t know what you want from me. Why can’t you leave me alone? It’s just me and Joo, that’s all —”

“Because he was my Juju too!” A sob ripped itself from Nicholas’ chest. “He was my Juju, and I miss him so bad, too. But it’s been years, Kei. You saw him. I did too. He’s gone, hyung, has been for a long time now. And I’ve tried to move on and get better, but every time I see you and that little bubble you live in I get dragged back down. Please, please. Enough.”

Kei ripped his hands from Nicholas’ grasp and stood up. Ignoring the noises of confusion behind him, he readied his feet. On autopilot, his hand reached for his phone; and as his finger pressed down on the button he took off.

There was a lump growing in his throat. All his airways felt like they were collapsing on him, but he pressed on. His heart clenched and gasped and squeezed, the beating of his heart erratic and frantic. He couldn’t feel anything. His legs felt numb, and his head was full of fog. A drop of moisture slid from his under eye to his cheekbone. Maybe it was the morning dew, or maybe it was his tears. It didn’t matter. It all felt like drowning.

Turning the corner, he charged on until his head finally slammed into the metal gate with a clang. He let his body crumple into the spindles, tissue warping and digging into the prongs almost hard enough to break skin. It couldn’t be true. This couldn’t be right. Euijoo wasn’t dead, he was right around the corner, just at the house up the street, or maybe just in another country living his life. He was alive and well, even if Kei hadn’t talked to him in years, he just knew —

But that was a lie, wasn’t it?

When Kei had held Euijoo’s body in his arms, he’d figured there were only two ways this could go. He could wrap one hand around the hilt of the knife in his chest, take a deep breath, and yank. The blade would scream as it was released, serrated edge catching on flesh, and Kei would choke on his spit as the gaping wound bled and bled and bled. He’d drop the knife, crumple to the ground, and pray that he had enough strength to call an ambulance. The world would pool crimson before him. Kei wouldn’t know if it was the blood or the burning agony that wracked his body. It was all red.

Maybe hands would lift him on a stretcher. Maybe someone would hold a cloth to stop the bleeding. Maybe he would come to, or maybe he wouldn’t. It would be just as likely that he breathed his last on the bathroom floor. There was no telling what damage the knife would do, with its barbs and gnashing teeth. It would surely fight back, that much Kei knew. It would bite and claw and refuse to leave cleanly.

Or…

Or he could leave the knife in. He’d learnt that if he did not bother the knife, it did not bite him in return. He could leave the blade in his chest, handle sticking out like a badge of honour. When people asked, he could point at it like a party trick, and when they’d react in horror he could grin and say, It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt. It’s part of me now. His lips would stretch into a full-toothed grin as it burned. His body would reject the foreign object, but his brain knew better. Better to keep the blade in than risk losing it forever. He could polish it, cradle it, stare at it in the mirror on the better days. For what was the knife but a present? The final, parting gift that Euijoo had bestowed upon him, proof that he’d been there, proof that he’d lived.

But there was no escaping now. Nicholas had yanked the blade clean out of his chest. All he could do was lie on the floor and gasp for air, and pray that he could be identified through the rubble of his broken illusion.

He reached into his pocket, trying to find anything to hold on to. His fingers clasped around the cool surface of his phone. The timer was still beeping. He’d somehow had enough sense to press the stop button before he’d run headfirst into the gate. The numbers flashed mockingly, and he swallowed back a sob.

1 minute.

He’d finally done it. He’d finally succeeded, and it meant absolutely nothing, because the person he’d been doing it for was now dead. He heaved as he went down, curling up on the ground in front of his house. The taste of clementines from breakfast, once sweet on his tongue, burned bitterly at the back of his throat.

Clementine. Clementine. The word came from some French word, and was named after some guy who’d made it. Kei couldn’t remember, and he didn’t care to know. What he could recall was that there once was a Roman goddess named Clementia, goddess of mercy, forgiveness, and clemency.

Maybe he was reading too much into things. But he remembered cutting fruit for the four of them, once. Taki had loved the apple bunnies. Nicholas had reached for the strawberries. But Euijoo had always loved the clementines. His eyes would go so round, as round as the fruit, and he’d always offer Kei a slice before biting into his own. Sometimes Kei would accept it, letting his teeth sink into the tangy pulp as he watch Euijoo savour his.

Clementine. Clementia. Clemency. It should have been a relief to have swallowed forgiveness that was given so freely. To Kei it only felt like rot in his mouth.

With a retch, Kei dropped his head into the bushes and threw up.

Kei just wanted to go home.

The funeral had been dragging on for hours. There were speeches to make, rites to follow. Offerings to give and people to console. Kei stood at the front door of the Byun household, offering tight smiles and nods to anyone who came up to him.

He didn’t want pity. He didn’t want tenderness. He didn’t want to be berated or blamed or comforted or coddled. He was so, so tired. All anyone could talk about was this funeral, and the stupid car, and Euijoo walking on the side of the road. Why was he there so late? They kept muttering. So dangerous. So young.

You stupid people, Kei wanted to yell. You think we want to walk on the road? There’s no pavement. We asked for years. You never built them. There was no other way for Euijoo to walk. He had to be on the road.

But that wasn’t the only way, was it? There were always two paths to a fork in the road. If Kei turned back the clock just a little further, if only he hadn’t been too lazy to get up from his bed and walk out, Euijoo would’ve never been on that road. If Kei had put in effort in that one singular thing, he might’ve still been alive.

Kei had read every report and evidence he could get his hands on about the incident. Euijoo had been halfway to his house when the collision had happened. If the car’s dash cam clock was right, it was almost exactly a minute after Euijoo left his home.

Euijoo wouldn’t have been able to make it in time. But Kei — well, he was the runner, wasn’t he? He’d trained to be fast, faster than everyone else. If only Kei had left exactly after the phone call, ran to Euijoo’s house in 1 minute — while now, he knew, he could, he just hadn’t tried — he would’ve rung Euijoo’s doorbell just as the car whizzed past. He could’ve walked in, ruffled Nicholas’ hair, hugged Euijoo. Maybe he’d even find out what Euijoo had wanted to tell him that day.

It would have been that easy. There would have been a simple fix to all of this.

All that needed to happen, for Euijoo to stay alive, was for Kei to go to him instead.

Hands were pulling at his shoulders, dragging him to his feet. Distantly, Kei felt his back hit a firm chest, the steady heartbeat reverberating through the contact between them. He pushed his body forward, bile and spit pooling at the corners of his mouth. Hacking out another lump in his throat, he clawed at the arm locked around his waist. It only tightened further, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Get him inside,” someone spoke. There was a clanking of metal, and the ringing sound of the lock sounded through Kei’s eardrums as he was shoved inside. Weakly, he tried to pry himself away, but it was futile. He’d lost all his strength, and now he was being dragged into the house like a limp rag doll.

Hurried footsteps pattered out from the kitchen. “Oh, my god.” Taki. Kei would know his little brother’s voice anywhere. “Kei, what happened? Is he alright?”

There was a quiet murmur, and then Taki’s face popped into Kei’s blurry vision. His eyes were downcast, but he looked less sad and more resigned. “Oh dear,” he hummed. “So you finally figured it out? What happened all those years ago.”

“Euijoo,” The word cracked through Kei’s hoarse voice. It was all he could think about. “Euijoo. Euijoo.” He stared up at Taki. Taki would not lie to him, as playful and childish as he was sometimes. He needed the truth from the one person he knew. He needed to grasp on to his last straw. “Euijoo?”

“He’s gone.”

The words were a stone to a glass house. With a cry, Kei tipped forward into Taki’s arms. It was though he’d been irreversibly shattered in a single moment, the spires of his meticulously crafted lie fractured at his feet. It’d been a good run, but it was over. The palms of Kei’s hands had split themselves open on the glass, his knees scraped and bleeding. And yet none of that could compare to his heart, which had a thousand blades run through it in an instant, pulsing and screaming even through its slowing breath.

He pressed his hand to his chest and sobbed.

The next time he came to, he was in the bathroom, sitting on the floor. Someone had stripped him of his soiled clothes, and he was cross-legged under the spray of the showerhead, staring blankly at a single spot on the wall. A hand carded through his damp hair, before a soft wash towel was pressed against his skin, rubbing lightly in circular motions. Kei knew who it was even before he saw him.

“Taki.”

“It’s me, hyung.” The movement of the cloth stilled for a moment before resuming. “It’s just me. Stay with me.”

In response, Kei closed his eyes and bowed his head.

When he next came to, he was in his bed. The curtains before him were drawn open, the night sky spilling shadows into his room. He barely blinked. The darkness mirrored the black hole swirling within him, an all-consuming void that hollowed him out and gnawed on the middle of his chest. It ached with every bite. Kei couldn’t care less. He lay there, motionless.

The door creaked open. A small figure shuffled his way into his room, before making his way to the side of his bed. He plopped down with a sigh, before gently shaking Kei’s shoulder. “Kei, it’s time to get up. You haven’t eaten all day. At least have dinner.”

With a shaky groan, Kei sat up. He barely make out anything in the dark, but he let Taki prop him up and press a bowl into his hands. With slow, halting bites, Kei managed to swallow down a few spoonfuls. He’d finished at least half the bowl when he finally spoke. “You’ve done this before.”

Even in the dark, Kei could tell that Taki’s face remained impassive. “Yep.”

“When Euijoo…” Kei gulped. Every mention of the word made him want to shrivel up into a ball and disintegrate into the soil. “When he left, the first time — I did this too, didn’t I?”

“You shut down after he died, hyung.” Taki’s face didn’t change, but the look in his eyes shifted. “You wouldn’t eat or go out or answer anyone’s calls. I had to make sure you lived, somehow.”

They were silent. Quietly, Kei picked up his spoon and forced down every last bite. Taki’s eyes never left him. When he was done, he pressed the empty bowl into Taki’s hands. “I’m sorry. For making you do all that.”

“It’s alri —” Taki paused. “Actually, no. Can I be honest, Kei?”

Kei nodded, as if to say, go on.

“I resented you for a long time,” Came Taki’s blunt truth. Kei tried not to flinch back. The memories that he’d only begun to recall were not pretty — not to Kei, not to anyone around him. He hadn’t realised just how terribly his escape plan had affected everyone. Bearing Taki’s honesty was the least he could do. “I was grieving Euijoo, too, but suddenly I had to take care of you and the house and keep our friends updated. It was so much, Kei. And I know it’s not fair, because you did the same thing for me when I was growing up, but sometimes I’d look at you and just hate how you could run away from everything while everyone else had to deal with the fallout.”

Kei opened his mouth to speak.

“I’m not done.”

Kei snapped his mouth shut.

“The horrible part of this is that I can’t even blame you for it.” Taki picked at the blanket covering Kei’s torso. The lint, torn off the cloth, fluttered to the ground. “Like yeah, having to cook and clean and do everything was terrible. I lost so much time when I was supposed to be enjoying my youth. Nico tried to fill that void, take me out to play, but he was mourning and in pain, too. But I can’t even blame you for what you chose to do, because I doubt I would’ve been any better if I were you. Maybe. I don’t know. You’ve never told me what you saw. All I have are Nico’s accounts.”

A shallow breath. “Some part of me might never forgive you for what you took away from me. But I can’t even be angry, because you were trying to give me all you had left in you. It’s all a bit fucked up. Your best wasn’t enough to make me happy. My best wasn’t enough to keep you afloat. But that was all we had. Your plan to ignore Euijoo’s death… that wasn’t just because of your mind, was it? You did it because you thought I’d need the stable big brother you once were.”

A choked sob rose in Kei throat, ballooning as it filled his lungs. “How’d you know?”

“Because I know you,” Setting the bowl to the side, Taki stared Kei dead in the eye. “No matter who you pretend to be, you’re still my big brother. I know you.”

Maybe, in a different time, this would’ve been a heartwarming statement. This was the sort of declaration that some siblings never managed, a baring of the heart to the person they’d never been able to shake for all their life. In another life Kei would wrap Taki in a bear hug and coo over his touching words. Today, though, they were not those people. They were two brothers, trying desperately to piece the shattered remains of a relationship together with a glue stick. Taki was holding a gun to Kei’s head, saying that he knew Kei from the inside-out. All the good, the bad, and the ugly. Every illusion Kei had ever tried to uphold in front of Taki — for his dignity, as a white lie, to grasp at a final lifeline — was simply smoke in the breeze.

It was all a little nauseating. It tasted like freedom and unwarranted mercy. Like a sweet clementine, stark against the palate when he’d braced himself for sour.

The door creaked open once more. A taller boy tiptoed in. “Is he…”

“I’m awake, Nico.” Kei sighed. Reaching over, he fumbled with the light switch until the table lamp flickered to life. “Come on. You can join us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Since when have you hesitated?” Kei shifted to make space for him. “I have something I want to say to you, too.”

Hesitantly, Nicholas crept to Kei’s side. His legs had barely touched the hem of the bed sheet before Kei was pulling him in, tugging him into his arms. “Oof —”

“Nico,” Kei buried his face into the crook of Nicholas’ neck. “I’m sorry. I spent so long running from Euijoo’s death, and I thought it’d only affect me. I didn’t realise that I’d forced you, no, both of you,” and here he turned to Taki, who was standing a little awkwardly to the side. He gestured at him to come closer, and yanked him into the hug once he was close enough to touch. “To go down with me too. I’m sorry. I should’ve done better for you two.”

A still silence lingered between them.

The thing about memories was that they were never static. They were fluid, always transforming, always changing with the person. They bent and melted as Kei grew, and what was once a simple joy could quickly metamorphose into a rabid nostalgia.

So Kei had refused. If he said no to Euijoo’s death, stayed exactly where he was, never changing — then nothing had to change, did it? Euijoo would still remain as clear and as precious as he did in his recollection. The memories could not be twisted by grief if Kei never gave it a reason to. It was perfect. Kei would freeze Euijoo in time, one minute before the car sped down the road, and he would forever shine like gold in his mind’s eye. He’d done the only thing he’d known he was good at — run.

But they were here now.

A small sniffle caught his attention. “I thought,” Nicholas croaked out, throat hoarse as he spoke. “I thought that you just hadn’t cared. That you wanted to erase Euijoo’s memory. I got so mad, and then Fuma helped me realise that you were just trying to cope on your own. But you refused to listen to any of us. We were scared that you’d disappear if we forced you to face the truth. But then you announced that you were really leaving for good, and I was so happy for you, but…”

A soft damp began to soak Kei’s sleeve. “I was… I don’t know. I was absolutely fucking terrified that you’d spend the rest of your life looking for an Euijoo who didn’t exist anymore. I’m sorry I screamed at you, but I’d do it again. I’d do it a hundred more times if it meant getting you back.”

Nicholas was full-on bawling now. Taki, too, as his arms wrapped around Kei’s torso and he lay his head on his lap. Kei lifted his hands and gripped the two of them a little tighter. His own eyes had gone blurry, and he could feel the erratic beats of his heart, pounding in his ears as his tears began to overflow.

They stayed that way for a long, long time.

“You know, you’ve gotten a lot faster recently.”

Kei barely glanced up at his coach. He downed a bottle of water, eyes staring blankly ahead. “Have I?”

He let his gaze fix on the red of the track, the green of the grass. There were a few people doing laps, but he ignored them. To his side, his coach shifted uneasily. “I was worried when your brother said you’d shut down. But look at you! Bounced back so quickly. Back to being the best in just a few months. How’d you do it?”

“I run a lot, I guess.” Kei scuffed his shoe against the concrete stands. “I do morning runs, then training, then I go back and do some exercises. Just have a goal and keep at it. That’s what I did.”

A short chuckle and a low whistle. “Sheesh. You star athletes are really built different. You really eat, sleep and breathe running, don’t you?”

“I guess. It’s what I’m good at.”

“Well, keep at it,” A hand clapped him on the back, and Kei resisted the urge to bowl forward and tumble down. “At this rate we’ll get you on a national team. How does that sound?”

Once upon a time, being on the national team would’ve been a dream come true. But the person who’d supported his dream the most was gone now. Was fate so cruel? Was losing the person he loved the price he had to pay to live his dream?

“Sounds good,” Kei smiled. His eyes remained as dead as the night of the accident. “I’ll work hard.”

Kei woke up with a start.

The sun had just touched the horizon. Ribbons of night still lingered on the edges, clinging on like wisps of smoke. On his bed, Taki’s limbs had intertwined with his throughout the night, head buried in the tender flesh of Kei’s stomach. Looking at him all curled up, he suddenly seemed so small. Kei had to look away.

Nicholas had opted to sleep on a mattress instead, saying that the bed was too small for all of them to fit. He now lay sprawled on Kei’s floor, blanket almost smothering him with how tightly he’d wound it around himself. Kei tiptoed over him and left the room.

Today was the day of his departure. In a few hours, he would be off to the airport, where he would catch a one-way flight to Seoul. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, dredged up memories soaked in grief that stained his hands as he held them. Years of pretending had been stripped from him, leaving behind nothing but soft pulp and sticky juice running down his arms. It would be so easy for anyone to close his fist around him right now and crush him into a bloody mass. Kei inhaled a quick breath of the morning air, the cool wind shooting through his lungs.

But there was still one thing left that he had to do.

He sped past the market on his morning run. It was far too early. The rest of the world was not yet awake, the rows of stalls still statues that blurred as he flew past them. He reached the branch in the road and paused.

Usually, he would turn left. It would lead him on the path to Euijoo’s house, and from there he would time himself as he sprinted home. He’d never let himself turn right — at least, not before today. He’d only been there once, but it was enough. The memory of walking alongside a casket down the road was permanently etched into his memory.

For the first time in years, he turned right and headed down the path.

The asphalt road slowly bled into a dirt path that eventually led to an open field. Trees bordered the space, but everything inside it was a large, flat expanse. Kei walked down a row, trying his best not to touch any of the other gravestones. He wasn’t superstitious, but it was surely a little disrespectful to be disrupting the dead. A few paces later, and he stopped in front of a headstone.

It was immediately clear that this grave had been visited fairly recently. Fresh flowers, their colours still vibrant and flushed, sat neatly in front of the marker. An array of gifts were laid out in front of it — a toy plane, a soccer ball, and a small gold disc that looked oddly familiar. Bending down, Kei took a closer look and laughed. So that’s why Maki had taken his old medals home with him. It wasn’t where he’d expected it to be, but Kei was grateful that a piece of him had made it to Euijoo’s side, even in his absence.

He blew the small traces of dust off the grey marble. Even after so many years, the writing was impeccable. Byun Euijoo. Loving son, and the kindest friend to all. Kei knelt down next to it and sighed.

“Hi, Euijoo.” His lips pressed in a thin line. “Uh, long time no see.”

The stone did not respond.

“Um, I don’t know how much the other have told you, but I’m leaving today.” He shifted his legs so that he was now sitting cross-legged on the ground. The grass was soft under his knees, sinking a little as he leaned forward. “In a few hours. I’m going to Korea, the place you came from. I can actually finally put your Korean lessons to use. Haha.”

Once the words started flowing, he couldn’t stop. “I tried really hard to run away from you. I’m sorry. Then again, you’d always told me I was a good runner, right?” One hand carded through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. “I tried really hard to pretend that you weren’t… gone. Forever. And I hurt Taki and Nico. I hope you aren’t too mad. I’m sorry I didn’t come over instead, that day. I think about it a lot.”

He could feel the words building in his throat, begging to be freed. He let them spill out of him, heart cracking as the dam of his emotions splintered and gave way. “I keep asking myself why I didn’t come to your house instead. If I’d gone over, if I hadn’t asked you to come find me, maybe you’d still be here. But I got so used to you letting yourself in that I’d assumed this time would be the same, too. And, just, I could’ve done it. I could’ve made it in 1 minute. Did you know, Euijoo? I’m fast enough for that now. But it’s not enough. I’ve done everything that you told me I could do. I got scouted and I’m running professionally now; but fuck, Euijoo, why couldn’t you be here to see it? Why couldn’t you stay alive?”

The last pieces of his armour gave way. The torrent of guilt that had been roiling in his heart ever since the day he’d heard the loud crash of the car crashed into him, a riptide that pulled and thrashed as it tried to drag him under. The tears were free-falling now, an endless stream of sorrow that poured out from his soul. He laid his head on Euijoo’s grave and cried, cried, cried.

This is how Nicholas found him later on, body slumped against the marble with his head turned towards the sky. The rays of light were finally starting to peek through as Kei shut his eyes.

“Come on now, Kei,” There was a shuffling next to him. “It’s time to go.”

Kei shook his head. “I’m not ready,” he mumbled. “I just got Euijoo back. I’m not ready to go.”

It was silent for a moment. A body pressed up next to Kei, hard muscle and broad shoulders digging into Kei’s side. “Kei,” Nicholas murmured. “You will never be ready. We will spend our whole lives living with the heaviness of never being able to get Euijoo back. There will never be a time where we’ll look at ourselves and go, that doesn’t hurt one bit. Because it does. And it will.”

“Then does it at least get better?”

“It does, sometimes.” A round object was pressed into Kei’s hands. He fumbled with it blindly, the citrus scent of the peel sharp against his nose. “Some days it fades into a bruise that you can ignore. Some day the wound splits wide open. But I tell myself that Euijoo wouldn’t have wanted me to be like this. He would’ve beat me up, that menace.”

Kei choked on a laugh. His fingers toyed with the clementine in his hand. “What do you think he’d say, if he saw us now?”

“He’d scold you if you ended up not going because of him, and he’d find a way to blame himself for it.” Stretching, Nicholas got up. He extended a hand to Kei. “Come on. We have to go, now. Bye, Euijoo. We’ll be back, I promise. Though this other idiot might take a while.”

A strangled laugh escaped Kei. He glanced between the fruit in his hands and the flat surface of the gravestone. Bending down, he set the clementine in front of Euijoo’s marker, before pressing a kiss to the top of the marble. “Goodbye, Euijoo,” he breathed out. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Please fasten you seatbelt and get ready for takeoff…”

The pilot’s voice was saying something over the intercom. Kei didn’t bother trying to make it out. He kicked his backpack under the seat in front of him and turned to look out of the window.

The plane rumbled as it sped down the runway. Kei couldn’t imagine how fast it was going. Faster than him, certainly. Faster than the car that had sped down the street. But for the first time in a long while, the speed didn’t feel like an escape routine. It felt like the start of something new.

The pilot was still speaking. If Kei let himself dream, he could picture Euijoo in the seat, his soft voice soothing even though the crackly speaker. He shooed the thought away. There were some things that he wasn’t quite ready to think about yet, especially when it came to Euijoo. But someday, he would. He owed Euijoo that much.

The plane groaned once, twice, and suddenly they were off the ground. Kei peered at the city before him, growing smaller with every second. He caught a glimpse of his little town. The streets where he’d grown up, the fields he’d run around in, the neighbourhood that he’d known like the back of his hand. All of it blurred into a tiny dot that was quickly swallowed up by the puffy white clouds in the sky.

Sometimes, Kei wondered what Euijoo had to tell him, that day. Why he’d been so nervous, why he’d insisted on coming over. He would never know, of course. But it was a small mercy that, at the very least, Euijoo had died knowing that Kei loved him. A slice of clementine.

Euijoo, Kei thought to himself, I would peel as many clementines as you wanted, and more. I would never run again if it meant that you would be back. You can have all my trophies and my medals, and anything else I owned. I would have given you the world if you had asked.

But you are not here, anymore. Still, I will not say goodbye, because I know you are watching me. I know you’re here, even after death.

Kei closed his eyes as the plane soared through the sky.

Months later Nicholas would send him a photo of all their friends gathered around Euijoo’s tombstone. They’d laid out a picnic mat and had brought along some snacks and drinks. Despite the dismal location, they seemed to be having fun. Taki was play fighting with Yuma and Maki in the back, while Harua seemed to be egging them on. Only Jo, Fuma and Nicholas were actually posing for the camera with their little peace signs.

There was something odd about that year, Nicholas had added in his message. For some odd reason, when spring had broken, clusters of little blue flowers had sprung forth all around Euijoo’s grave. There were like endless pieces of the sky blooming from the earth. They even had a cloud-white centre. So small, and so adorable. None of them had ever seen them before, at least in their small town.

Later on, Kei would search the flowers up. They were called rurikarakusa, or nemophila. They were the most gorgeous sea of baby blue. A further search would tell him that these flowers were small yet powerful enough to shoot up to 20 centimetres tall. Still a baby, still as lovely.

But it was the final part of the article that stopped him in his tracks.

The nemophila came in different colours, each with their own meanings. White meant success. Purple and black meant grandeur and patriotism.

Blue nemophila, as it turned out, meant ‘I forgive you’.