Chapter Text
March
The final year of high school started.
Sieun’s father insisted on driving him to school on the first day of his senior year. Ever since his mother went abroad for work, his dad moved to Yeongdeungpo to live with him. Not so soon after, his dad bought a two-floor house. Sieun still didn’t understand why. The last place was big enough for the two of them.
Sieun’s room is on the second floor, along with a separate bathroom and a balcony as well. Almost as if he has his own home upstairs.
The moving day had been chaotic. Boxes everywhere, Baku tripping over furniture, Gotak arguing about which bookshelf went where, and Juntae quietly reorganizing everything after them.
“We can come hang out in Sieun’s room sometimes, right, Uncle?” Baku had asked, hands clasped together, showing his best puppy eyes.
Sieun’s father replied immediately, “Not a chance. You boys focus on your studies this year. And don’t pick up fights.”
“Of course, Uncle. I promise we’ll be on our best behaviour.” Baku had bowed dramatically, Gotak and Juntae following him. Sieun remembers thinking, “Not likely.”
The car comes to a stop. Students walking together, some alone, all towards one direction. Sieun unbuckles the seatbelt and turns to the door.
His father says, “It’s your final year, Sieun. Be smart about your choices.”
Sieun doesn’t look back. Instead, he says, “Yes,” and gets off.
As he walks through the school gates, he sees them waiting. Like always. Juntae notices him first and waves. Gotak follows his gaze and smiles. And Baku cups his hands on his mouth and shouts, “YEON SIEUN. IF YOU DON’T GET HERE IN 3 SECONDS, I’M EATING YOUR LUNCH!”
Last year was demanding. Mentally and physically. But he survived it because these people stood by his side. Unwavering. Constant.
Baku starts counting, “THREE!”
Sieun almost smiles.
“TWO!”
He doesn’t run.
“ONE!”
But he walks faster.
Since the “Eunjang vs. Union” fight last year, things have quieted down. Almost too quiet. The bowling alley still operates, the Union thugs still linger around the place, but not Na Baekjin, nor the other top dogs.
Keum Seongje.
Do Seongmok.
Baek Dongha.
All gone.
As if disappeared into a rumor, they’re only present in the hushed whispers down the hall and ghost stories during lunch breaks.
Losing someone who was, is dear to you, no matter what they did or didn’t do, still hurts. Sieun understands Baku’s pain over losing Baekjin. Even if he never says it out loud. There are times Baku goes unusually quiet, lost in his thoughts, and just absent. Then it disappears as quickly as it arrives. He goes back to being Baku, the loud one, the so-called ‘dumb’ one, but Sieun notices. And Sieun doesn’t ask because he, himself, doesn’t know how to let go.
As much as it’s unbelievable to have this almost fragile peace in Eunjang High, Sieun hopes he can keep this longer. Senior year is about exams, applications, and, as his father said, choices. He hasn’t chosen a university or a major yet. He isn’t ready to think about the future while he’s busy holding onto the present.
He can’t imagine not having his friends wait for him at the school entrance, their chaotic lunches on the basketball field, and loud and obnoxious karaoke nights.
And, he can’t picture not seeing Suho.
Who sleeps still.
Sieun visits every week. He comes, sits next to his bed, and gives him updates on his life. He talks about how he’s doing with his studies, how Baku and Gotak bicker about everything, and how Juntae keeps everything together in their little friend group. And Suho lies still, just like the last time Sieun came over.
April
Sieun fills out the visitor information sheet without reading, because his hand remembers. He leaves it at the reception desk and goes to the elevator. It's almost cruel where the comatose patients are kept, on the highest floor, away from life downstairs. Not a single baby cry gets heard on that floor. The visitors don't talk much to each other, but they know who's been here the longest. In their eyes, both silent exhaustion and unfading hope stay together.
When he goes into Suho’s room, Nurse Choi is doing her usual rounds. When she notices Sieun, she smiles, “You’re early today, Sieun.”
Sieun was already familiar with every single nurse in the hospital, old and new. It was inevitable because today officially marks the day Suho has been in a coma for two whole years.
Sieun bows to her, “Yes, I am.”
She looks at the chart and asks, “Two years, right?”
“Yes.”
She finishes. “Don’t lose hope. Suho has held on. He’s strong." She walks closer and touches Sieun’s shoulders gently, "Here,” she offers him a small packet of jelly candies.
Sieun thanks her.
When she leaves, the air in the room feels heavier. Sieun sits in his usual chair and lets out the breath he was holding.
“Suho,” he calls, but gets no response from the boy.
“Ahn Suho,” he tries again.
Sieun reaches for Suho’s hand. It’s warm. As long as Sieun remembers, they have never been cold.
“Don’t you think you’ve slept enough?” Sieun whispers.
Sieun looks around the room.
Everything's white.
Walls. Bed. Sheets. And Suho's clothes.
"What color do you like?" Suho had asked once. And Sieun said "White", because that's the one that came to his mind at that time. "You like simple, huh?" Suho smiled back then. If someone asked him now, he would never say that color again.
The heart monitor beeps continuously and steadily. Sieun wonders if they sound different to anybody else, because to him, it feels like an accusation. If only Sieun had made different choices, Suho wouldn’t have been here. Connected to wires, eating through tubes, in a room that reeks of sterile tools. Because Sieun couldn’t protect Suho.
When his friends told him it wasn’t Sieun’s fault, it felt as if they’d taken a load off his shoulders. During the day, he almost believes it. However, when the sun sets, when he’s left with nothing but his thoughts alone, he still struggles with the ‘What ifs’.
“If I hadn’t-” He stops. Instead, he tightens his hold of Suho’s hand until he sees his knuckles turn white. He sits upright and tries to swallow the words back. A silent tear falls. He sobs quietly. How much he wishes to feel Suho squeeze back, and smile at him, once more. How much he longs to hear Suho's voice calling him 'Yeon Sieun'. And Sieun doesn’t dare to name what he feels for Suho. The moment Suho fell, Sieun lost the right to love the other boy.
Eventually, the sound of Suho’s soft breathing calms him. He releases Suho’s hand gently, worries for a second that he might have hurt him earlier. He straightens Suho's cover.
“I’ll be back next week,” Sieun says and leaves the room. When he closes the door behind him, he doesn’t look back.
The hallway is too large and too empty for Sieun. The sound of the vending machine and the footsteps at the nursing station remind him that life is still going on. While the time has stopped in the room behind.
The elevator dings.
When he goes in, he sees that his eyes are just a bit redder in the mirrored walls. And his breaths are a little shakier.
Outside the hospital, the sun has already set. Warm spring air caresses his cheeks, but for Sieun, it doesn't feel like anything more than wind.
His phone vibrates in his pocket. It’s a group chat notification. He turns on the silent mode and puts it back in his pocket, where the jelly candy remains untouched.
Sieun walks home. Alone.
May
It is Sieun’s birthday.
His father called earlier and told him to come home right after school. “There’s something important we need to discuss,” he said. Sieun promised his friends that he would celebrate with them on the weekends. So after school, he went straight home.
“I’m back.”
“Perfect timing. Come sit.” His father calls from the kitchen.
On the dining table, there’s a small cake and takeout from the Chinese place. Sieun notices four chairs immediately. Not the usual two.
His father sits across from him. With an unusually steady expression for him.
He exhales, “Sieun, I'll say it straight.” A pause. “I’ve been seeing someone for two months.”
Sieun doesn’t react. He had made peace with his parents’ divorce a long time ago. But it's his first time any of them talked to Sieun about their love life.
His father continues, “She’s moving in today. We want to see if we’re compatible long-term.” He drops the news. “I told your mother yesterday, and she’s okay with it.”
That explains the house.
“She has a son, around your age.”
There's gonna be new people entering his space. His life. Sieun doesn't know what to say or to do. He just listens quietly.
The doorbell rings. Almost like a judge's gavel.
“Right on time,” His dad smiles widely and goes to welcome the guests.
Not guests.
Soon-to-be members of this household.
Footsteps. Then a woman’s light voice asks, “Are we late?”
“Not at all.” His dad assures.
They enter the dining room together. Beside his smiling father, a woman, probably in her forties, walks in. She seems obviously nervous, and his father breaks the silence. “Let me introduce you to my son. This is Sieun, and she is Ms. Kim Yeojin.”
Sieun stands up, “Nice to meet you.” He bows politely.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” She smiles warmly.
The doorbell rings again.
“Oh, my son must be bringing the luggage.” Ms. Kim says.
“Let me go get him.” Sieun’s father goes away once again.
Is this what he gets for ruining Suho's life? Unwelcome strangers in his home?
Another set of footsteps approaches. But this time, the owner’s different. Taller, leaner, with messy hair and familiar glasses. Sieun’s stomach tightens. His heartbeats get rushed. The other's eyes widen in surprise for half a second, then he grins.
A punishment.
Ms. Kim waves her son closer. “This is my son, Seongje.”
The peace Sieun anticipated?
Gone.
Last year, they stood on opposite sides of a war. Keum Seongje wasn’t Union’s obedient dog, but he wasn’t innocent either. He played by his own rules. Smiled while doing it. Dangerous? Yes. But in a different way.
“Sieun,” His dad’s voice pulls him back to reality.
Sieun swallows, “I’m Yeon Sieun.”
The other boy extends his hand, “I’m Keum Seongje. I hope we could be fast friends.”
Friends.
Sieun looks him in the face. Still grinning. Calculating eyes behind the glasses. A different pair, Sieun notices. He considers not taking Seongje's hand. For a second, he recalls the crack of bone on the rooftop last year. Remembers how the other laughed even then. But that was different.
Sieun shakes his hand hastily and mutters, “Yeah.”
“Seongje turned eighteen last month. You’re eighteen today too, right?” Ms. Kim asks brightly.
“Yes, I am,” Sieun answers.
She smiles, “Since you’re the same age, you could be friends-”
“There’s still hierarchy,” His father interrupts, “Even among twins. Since Seongje is older by a month, Sieun should still call him hyung.”
A flicker of delight crosses Seongje’s face. He turns to Sieun's father, “I’d like that too, Uncle,” Seongje says smoothly.
His father nods to Seongje and continues, “And call Ms. Kim ‘Aunt’.”
Sieun looks away, “Yes, father.”
“Seongje, your room is on the second floor. Right next to Sieun’s.” His father looks at Sieun, "Sieun, go help him."
Right next to his. Of course. His upstairs home is gone.
“Thanks, uncle.” Seongje leaves in confident strides. Sieun stands up and follows the other even though every instinct tells him not to.
At the entrance, Seongje lifts a big sports bag, “Could you help with the other bag, please?” he says lightly, and watches Sieun closely.
Sieun picks it up without comment and goes upstairs.
As he opens the door, Sieun sees that every essential is already placed. A bed, a nightstand, a closet, a table, and a study chair. His father must have had them moved today. Because, until yesterday, this room, -no, this floor used to be quiet. Empty. Only Sieun’s. Sieun realizes something uncomfortable. His father is serious about this.
He drops the bag. “The bathroom is across the hall,” Sieun says flatly and turns to leave.
A hand blocks the doorway.
"Yeon Sieun."
His name sounds wrong.
“Why hurry, hmm?” Seongje asks lazily, “Shouldn’t you show your hyung around more?”
Sieun doesn't look at him. “No.”
Seongje chuckles, “Aww, so cold. We’re family now.”
That makes Sieun look him in the eyes. “Don’t bother me,” he says, in a hushed tone, “And I won’t bother you.”
Seongje steps closer. Their faces are closer than necessary. Seongje tilts his head, “And if I say no?” Seongje notices how Sieun doesn’t step back.
Sieun stares at him, “I’ll wreck your other foot.” He says, “And I won’t apologize this time.” Sieun’s voice stays calm, but his hands tighten slightly.
A beat.
A flash of recognition on Seongje’s face. Then Seongje laughs. Not offended. Not angry. Amused. Excited even. He looks at Sieun and winks, “No promises.”
“Kids, dinner!” Sieun’s father calls from downstairs.
Seongje steps back and fixes his posture, “Shall we, dongsaeng?” he prompts.
Sieun walks past him without answering. He hears Seongje’s light chuckle behind him.
---
“Seongje, where do you study?” his father asks.
“Ganghak High,” Seongje replies easily. “Near Eunjang. Sieun goes there, right? We have crossed paths before.” He adds, “We had a mutual friend.”
Mutual friend.
Ms. Kim beams, “Oh, even better! You’ll get closer quickly then," she says gleefully, "I hope you’ll support each other since it’s your senior year.”
Support.
Sieun keeps his eyes on his plate. The cake doesn’t feel like a celebration.
“I hope we will,” Seongje replies to her, but his gaze stays on Sieun.
“Seongje, your mother mentioned that you smoke sometimes?” Sieun's father asks, his voice steady, expression uncomfortable.
Seongje pauses eating and says, “Yes. Occasionally. Very horrible habit of mine.”
His father nods, “I insist you smoke outside. The balcony’s on your floor.”
Seongje smiles politely, “Of course, Uncle. I’ll make sure to keep our house’s air clean and pristine.”
Our house.
The word echoes in Sieun’s head.
He finally looks up. Seongje’s already watching him, still grinning. Their eyes lock, just for half a second. Something unspoken passes. Sieun looks away.
This isn’t a battlefield, but certainly doesn’t feel like peace either. In that moment, Sieun realizes something. This year won't be what he expected. At all.