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The ground was wet because of the aftermath of the rain, and Taehoon strides uncaringly, his boots dirty. He goes to this specific cemetery every other week, more so when he has the time. The emptiness welcomes his body like a friend, and the seemingly endless rows of plaques and upright headstones whisper him a hello. He sits beside a tombstone without even looking at it, leaning on the tree placed beside it as if he knows the whole place like the back of his hand.
The first thing that came out of his mouth was a laugh, his syllables grind against his teeth.
"Are you sick of me?" He wipes the dust sitting upon the thickly scribed letters spelling out Lee Dowoon gently, as if it were a real person.
"Sorry for visiting less frequently, I've been caught up with something annoying, you see." He mutters, fiddling with his fingers. He looks directly at the sun that shines beneath both of them and tries to sear that pain in his mind to push the bubbling thing in his stomach.
No one wins against the big giant sun so he can only wince and close his eye, pushing his fingers against his eyelid to spread the dark red thing splotching on his closed vision.
He flutters his eyes open once again, "I've told you about them, right?" He looks at the unmoving stone and his smile drops as he realizes, Ah, of course. He's not actually there. He almost forgets again.
"You'd probably say I'm crazy, but I found someone like you again. His name is Yeonwoo." He chuckles like he doesn't believe any word he says, "He wants to be a good son, and he does everything his father wants."
"I want to save him," He trails, "Do I sound cool? Or do I sound like an asshole?"
He lets the silence eat his time away, like an immunity training of letting the reality of his loss sink in.
"I'm sorry, Dowoon." He says like it's the answer for everything.
Taehoon closes in on himself, putting his head in both his hands, as if he's asking for repentance in the divine. He mutters the apology a few more times, like a prayer, like he's there.
"I'm sorry, Dowoon. I'm sure you'd be okay with whatever I say because you're a fucking pushover," There was something hot in his stomach that reached his throat like bile, Taehoon can never get used it.
"If I were the one who's gone, would you do this too?" His voice almost cracks, and he swears he can almost see the outline of Dowoon's body before him, answering him with a "Yes, of course!"
"I think it's funny that I've taken you for granted-" He doesn't continue his sentence out loud, because even if it's been years, he still cannot accept this. Accept losing him. Accept himself.
The sun starts hiding behind the clouds, the whole cemetery dimming like a sign for Dowoon's sadness, or maybe Taehoon's guilt.
"You know Hobin, right? I told you before that he looked like you, but really, I only saw it when he wore the Taekwondo uniform." His stomach tugs once again, remembering the day he almost thought he resurrected. Just like he prayed a million times over. Hobin in his Taekwondo studio wearing a hand-me-down uniform loosely, just like Dowoon did.
"I feel like I'm offending you for comparing you to that loser bastard, but I can't help it."
Taehoon looks over his shoulders and the tomb, as if hoping that Dowoon would manifest before him in flesh. Of course, that's impossible, he had done that so many times, but it never happened. It makes him feel lonelier now that he knows he's beside someone dead and gone.
"I'm sorry for using him, Dowoon. But I already forgot your voice, and he says things I hoped you would say. I feel like a fucking asshole for seeing you in him and I can't even do anything... I can't do anything about it because it..."
He tries to bite his tongue because the last time he punched himself in the face, his father asked if he got into a fight, in which he did not, but admitting you tried to get yourself together through punching yourself because you visited the cemetery wasn't an ideal answer either.
"It helps..." He whispers the last part like it was an unforgivable sin.
"My father asked me, you know, He asked me… He asked me why, and I dont— I dont' understand..." Taehoon says.
His father already figured out that he goes here every once in a while and never questioned it, but today, before he left the house he asked why. Taehoon knows deep inside what that question meant, but still he didn't want to say he understood it, because understanding it meant answering it.
He looks over the shade that the sun created over the trees and moves his brown hair. The hair that he has dyed over and over and over again to be similar to Dowoon's. He felt that it was the only thing he had of him.
Taehoon thinks about Yeonwoo and Hobin, and he thinks about the greatest loss of his life. He knows he's doing everything for himself and that all of the things he's considering are things he's doing to ease his guilt and pain, but whenever he talks to either of them, he can't feel that thing in the pit of his stomach that drains him of every ounce of his life.
"Is it okay if I bring you beer next time?" Taehoon wonders. He was 18 years old now, but Dowoon died as a 15-year-old kid, and he has never grown up since the day he died. The thought almost kills Taehoon.
He tries to think about Yeonwoo. Can he really save him?
Instead of an answer, he only stands up.
"I miss you, you know." He whispers and places a gentle kiss on top of the tombstone.
"I'll come back and tell you what happens."