( pink carnation - I'll Never Forget You )

Yoongi’s body is in autopilot mode. When the cab stops at the station, the driver has to tell him twice before he registers his surrounding and gets out. He pays some cash and walks into the station. He buys himself a ticket and sits listlessly on a bench. Once his train rolls onto the platform, he follows the crowd and gets in. He finds himself a window seat and sits down quietly. People are looking at him he knows more because he is soaked to his bones and less because he may be an idol. He doesn’t care. He just wants to go away. Wants to go back home. He wraps his arms around himself, pulling his feet up on the seat, shivering.

At some point he must have fallen asleep he figures, because he wakes up and finds a blanket on him. There is an old woman next to him, sleeping. The boy beside her is openly staring at him. He clears his throat.

And, unexpectedly, sneezes.

“Aren’t you an idol? I think, I have seen you before on TV.”

“Would it make a difference if I wasn’t?” His voice is rough and gravelly, signs of an oncoming sore throat.

“Nah.” The boy looks close to thirteen-fourteen. “It would. To my sister though.” He sits up excitedly. “Are you.. Woozi?” He tilts his head and has this sharp gaze in his eyes that are oddly reminiscent of someone.

“You’re from Daegu. Aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He stamps his feet impatiently. “Name, hyung. Your name.”

Yoongi snorts. “Min Yoongi.” He watches the boy’s eyebrows twitch in confusion and then, narrow in suspicion.

“You are from Daegu too?”

“Yup.” He sneezes again.

“Are you, like, Min.. Suga?”

Yoongi nods his head. At this point, the old lady next to him stirs. The boy goes still and pretends to be asleep. When she opens her eyes, she first looks at the boy and then, turns around to look at the idol and smiles. “Did you sleep well?”

Yoongi feels shy all of a sudden and ducks his head, mumbling a yes.

“You’ll catch cold. Which is your station?”

“Which is the next one?”

“Chilseong.”

“I’ll get down there.”

The rest of the journey passes silently. When the train stops at Chilseong, he thanks her, bowing and apologising for returning a wet blanket which she dismisses good-naturedly. He signs on a paper napkin the lady hands to him and gives it to the boy to pass it onto her sister. He gets down from the train and heads outside of the station. That is when it hits him, the seriousness of the situation and he clutches his chest. One of s was dying. Because of him. Taehyung could have died. Because of him. Just because Yoongi could not accept Taehyung’s feelings for him. His stomach churns and he feels like throwing up. He is walking through the Chilseong market. The smell* of meat is not helping either. He hastens from there. He pats at his pockets for his phone and then recalls how he threw it. His shoulders drooped, he looks for a telephone booth. It takes him a few minutes to locate a kiosk. He dials his brother’s number. He wonders if his brother is sleeping as no one is receiving it. He is about to disconnect when his brother picks up.

“Hyung.”

“Yoongi? Yoongi-ah, is that you?”

Yoongi exhales loudly, unable to form a syllable. He is hearing his brother’s voice after a long time. It makes him want to become the small boy again after whom his hyung always ran. Someone who pampered him. “yeoboseyo? Yoongi-ah?”

“Hyung, how are you?”

“What’s wrong, Yoongi?” Yoongi’s throat is choking up. “Please, tell me. I am getting worried.”

“Can’t I call you just like that?”

“You text, baby bro. You don’t call. Now tell me.” His tone is just like the times when Yoongi would be called to the Principal’s room for the nth time and his hyung would be the only one asking him patiently what happened and not what Yoongi had done again. That was before his hyung left for university and he was still in primary school. “Okay, where’s your phone?”

“I.. I threw it away.” He lowers his head in shame feeling like his five year old petulant self. He hears a sigh on the other end.

“I’ll pick you up. Can you come with me? Do you think your manager will let you off?”

“Am not in Seoul, hyung.”

“Where are you then? Eomma told me you have a shoot day after tomorrow.”

“I am in Daegu.”

“Oh.”

“I ran away”, he says softly.

“You did what?” His brother sounds completely awake now.

“I .. I ..” He doesn’t know what to say.

“Why?”

Because I am the reason why someone almost died, hyung; someone I care about and someone who loved me and I didn’t know all this while, he wants to say. I didn’t know all this time how much he loved me. All this time when I thought it was a childish obsession and brushed him off. Hurt him. Constantly. I didn’t know how much pain he was hiding in him even when he was right in front of my eyes. Taehyung, the kid who is always so cheerful and happy. I let him die, hyung.

He had almost died.

He grips the receiver tighter and asks, “Can you.. Can you come home, hyung? I have not seen you since a few months.”

“Yea, yea. I am coming.” He can hear his brother moving around and some other sounds follow. “Tell me where you are exactly. Are you alone?”

“I don’t know. It’s near to the market. Chilseong.”

“You are at Chilseong?!” His brother is surprised, his tone rising with surprise. Yoongi sneezes. “Go somewhere with a shed, Min Yoongi. I’ll book a cab. Go home straight. I’ll be there by morning.”

“Thank you, hyung.” His eyes well up with tears. He tries to stop them from falling. He tries to blink them away.

“You are my dongsaeng. My baby bro. Be safe.” The line disconnects after that.

It is not raining here. He looks for a place with a proper shed and tries to not stray too far from the kiosk. He is feeling uncomfortable in his clothes and by the looks by-passers give him. He is shivering while waiting for the car. Almost thirty minutes pass by before a car stops near the kiosk when he is nodding off to sleep and the driver pokes his head out. Yoongi jolts at the loud noise of the honk and stands up. He jogs over to the car.

“Min Yoongi-ssi?”

“Yea.” Yoongi gets into the car and lies down on the backseat, curling into himself. It’s a long drive from Chilseok market to his home.

***

When he finally reaches home, he is overwhelmed with nostalgia because it’s been quite a long time since he came back home and, the last time had ended up in a fight. His mother is waiting for him at the entrance looking tired and anxious. The driver tells him the ride is already paid for by a Min Jihoon-ssi and Yoongi gets out of the car. He is nervous. His palms are sweaty despite the cold. He crosses his arms and rubs his elbows with his palms. He is still standing near the gate looking at his mother.

“Won’t you come in, son?”

Yoongi takes small steps towards his house looking at it in wonder. It’s been even longer since he has seen it at this hour. He starts coughing when he opens his mouth to greet his mother and she rushes towards him. On finding his clothes wet, she asks him how long he has been in the same clothes. He tells her. She is horrified. She ushers him inside, shutting the door behind him. She goes about the house muttering about ‘spoiled kids and stubborn sons and idiot boys’ and comes back out from inside and throws a fresh, warm pair of clothes at him, scowling in annoyance when he is removing his shoes and slipping his feet into a pair of slippers. He catches them in reflex. He is still standing where she had left him - near the door. She stops to look at him.

“What’s wrong?”

May be because it is his mum asking, the suddenness of the situation in which he is meeting her, his brother’s understanding or, his mother’s worried glance. He rushes to her, hugs her and cries.

“Yoongi. What’s wrong?” He has missed this voice, her scent, her love. He holds her tighter and cries on her shoulder. They are almost the same height. He does not know how long they stand like that in the hallway but, she does not ask him again; just holding him silently when he lets all the tears he has been holding back flow.

“I love you, Eomma. I love you so much. I miss you so much. I love you.” He kisses her on the head repeatedly cursing himself for thinking at any point in his life that he could live without them. “I’ll never let you go again. Never even think of that cursed thought.” He is wasting time being away from her. He is sniffling now and has calmed down a little bit.

“Do you want to sit?”, his mother asks.

He nods his head, not looking up. She holds his hand and leads him to the sofas and makes him sit down. “Let me go prepare tea for you.” She takes a step away to go to the kitchen but, Yoongi holds her hand and stops her.

“Can’t - can’t you sit with me?”

He looks at her with pleading eyes. He does not want her to go anywhere away from his sight. She smiles with understanding and pets his head. He leans into her touch, closing his eyes. She bends to press her lips against his forehead. A fresh teardrop slips his eye. “Tea will help, my son. And, go change your clothes till then. I don’t want you catching cold.” However, he trails after her to the kitchen. She sighs when she sees him lingering behind her. “Yoongi-ah, don’t be a child. I am too old to be scolding you for not changing into dry clothes. Eomma is right here. She is going nowhere.” Her smile squeezes his heart. He misses everything about her.

“I love you.”

“I know, son.” The skin near her eyes crinkles as she smiles in amusement. “I love you too.”

“Where is appa?”

She turns back towards the stove, holding the necessary utensils in her hand. “Incheon. For work.”

“Okay. I’ll come back.”

He runs upstairs hearing his mother shout ‘everything is the same in your old room’ after him. He stops in front of the door of his room and inhales deeply once and exhales loudly. He wonders why he is so nervous to be back in his room. He opens the door slowly, almost afraid to be inside. He just heard his mother say that everything is the same and yet..

It is still the same. The posters, the discarded and broken consoles of his video games and the few manhwas and magazines stashed on the rack. There is his basketball on the other corner of the bed. He slides open his cupboard and finds his old clothes hanging exactly in the same place as he had left them the last time he was there. He is not sure what he had expected. Did he wants things to have changed? Did he want them to be same? He goes through the drawers and finds a packet of cigarettes in one of them. It has just one stick missing. He wonders if his mother saw it or, if it was his brother who cleaned his room but, either of them is unlikely. He boots up his neglected computer and lies down on the bed. The scent in the room is familiar and comfortable and is lulling him to sleep.

Just then, his mother knocks at the door and he sits up. When she glares at him, he scuttles outside, taking his clothes with him. He quickly changes into a pair of pajamas with yellow and pink ducks printed on it and wonders if his brother had gifted him this on his last birthday as a joke. He removes his beanie from his jacket’s inner pocket before he dumps his wet clothes in an empty bucket. He goes back to his room and drapes it over his chair’s arm. His mother is sitting on the bed. The tray with two cups and some biscuits is on his table. He takes the tray and places it on the bed carefully between his mum and him.

“Aren’t you diabetic?”, he asks worriedly when he takes a bite of the biscuit which suspiciously takes like chocolate.

“It’s sugar-free.” She assures him. “Jihoon-ah bought them.”

They sip at their tea soundlessly and somehow, Yoongi feels a little bit better. He is staring at his mother’s face noting all the wrinkles and the lines that weren’t there the last time. “What, my son?”

“Eomma?” His native accent rolling comfortably off his tongue and he feels home.

“Yes?”

“I .. Almost lost someone I care about. I didn’t know the entire time.. He .. He was sick and didn’t tell us.”

“It’s one of the members?” Her voice is soft and it’s like honey to his ears. Why can’t idols live with their parents?

“Yea.” He pulls a loose thread from his pajama and fiddles with it, not looking anywhere at her.

“You feel responsible for it.” It is not a question.

He fidgets. “It is my fault.”

“Why?”

He looks at her and opens his mouth. He wants to tell her yet, a memory of the fight that he had with his parents stops him. “I.. It is. I know.”

“Did he tell you so?”

“No.”

“Then?”

“But, sometimes, Eomma, one does not need to be told what their fault is. You know it.”

Her gaze is contemplative and Yoongi stuffs the biscuit crumbs into his mouth.

“Sometimes we can’t help some things. Even if we know what the truth is and what is right. Go to sleep. You need some rest.” She gets up from the bed and picks the tray. “Jihoon called. He will be here in the morning.”

Yoongi smiles at her. “Eomma?”

She pauses at his door and turns around. “Yes?”

“I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. I don’t want to miss us. Lose us. My family. You.”

“Am glad you are home.”, she says softly and leaves.

Yoongi pads towards the computer and opens the music folder and plays one of his old playlists, the one with the old slow, sad songs. He does not bother removing the bed cover. He lies down on the bed once again and flings off the slippers which land somewhere near the table judging by the sound they make and falls into sleep.

***

He wakes up to the sound of a truck honking and swears loudly wishing it to piss off. He ends up coughing and rolls over to push his face further into the pillow.

“Here I was thinking somebody was too excited to see me.”

Yoongi stills. He rolls back and blinks open his eyes. “Hyung?”

“Yes and I have brunch with me so wake up.” Yoongi pushes himself up, trying to blink his sleep away. His brother pulls him with a force. “Wake up! I have just two hours left with me.”

“Why?” Yoongi pulls the plate closer to him and hears his stomach growl. “Am so hungry.”

“Well, Sleeping Beauty (Yoongi scowls) I have been waiting all day for you to wake up. I have a dinner with some important clients of the company. So, unfortunately, I can’t stay the night like I had planned.”

“Okay.”

“Go brush first before you eat. When will you learn?”

“I didn’t come with brush and paste, hyung.”

“You’re at home.”

“Am sure Appa threw those out.”

“Why will he throw your brush?”

“Dunno. Don’t give me yours. Ew. Bring me a new one.”

“Yes, like I carry a spare toothbrush with me everywhere.”

“You expected the same of me.” He yawns.

His brother comes back five minutes later only to find Yoongi sleeping again.

“Yah, Min Yoongi, wake up or, I’ll haul your arse out of the bed.”

“Go away, hyung!” He throws his pillow at Jihoon, eyes closed and misses his aim. His eyes fly open when he feels a pair of hands grab his right leg and begins to pull him down. “Yah, yah, yah! Hyung! Stop! What!” He kicks his legs, trying to get his brother’s hand off him but, failing miserably. His brother successfully drags him off the bed and lets him fall with a loud thud. Yoongi’s curses and Jihoon’s loud guffaws are followed by their mother’s anxious voice.

“Is everyone, okay? Min Yoongi, you are not breaking anything. Are you?”

“Eomma, my bones are being broken.”

“Get up, you lazy arse.” He glares at his brother who is now seated on the rickety chair in his room. A toothbrush hits him on the chest and falls in his lap. “It is new. Go brush and eat. We need to talk.” His brother’s somber gaze sobers him up. He stands up groaning. Jihoon chuckles. “You are such a Halmeoni.” Yoongi glowers and picks up the fallen toothbrush, letting out a string of curses, rubbing his back and shuffles out of the room. He comes back a little while later, refreshed feeling wide awake. Now that he is fully awake and able to process logical thoughts, he cringes at his own stupidity and feels a twinge of guilt for punching Taehyung like that. The latter had not even raised his arm to defend himself.

“Am sorry I called you liked that. In the middle of the night. You must be busy and tired.”

“Yes, I am but, not enough to be away from my dongsaeng when he is having a problem. Eomma told me you were crying. I know you have been avoiding coming here and yet, you suddenly turn up in the middle of the night. Mother is worried. Something must have happened.”

“I..” Yoongi sits down on the bed, lowering his head. He pulls the plate to where he is sitting. “I”. He begins again and hesitates.

“Yoongi..”

“There is someone who loved me, hyung.” He looks up. “He had Hanahaki.”

Jihoon’s face is expressionless. “Hanahaki?”, he repeats.

“You know where -”

“I know what Hanahaki is. What do you meany by ‘had’?”

“He got the operation done.”

“So, he is okay now?”

“Yes. No. He seems okay. I don’t know.”

“You - Do you feel responsible?”

Yoongi hisses. “Of course, it is my fault, hyung. He almost died! Because of me! Remember our trip to Europe, we cancelled it?”

“Yes. What about it?”

“He was hospitalised then.”

“It’s Taehyung, isn’t it?” His brother’s question catches him off-guard. “No, no one said anything to me. I have met him only a few times in Seoul when I went to meet you.”

“How.. ?”

“One can tell simply from the way he looks at you. Or, rather avoids looking at you.” His brother is laughing happily. “That’s a dead give away.”

“I knew he was in love with me”, Yoongi says dryly and flushes red on realizing he voiced it aloud.

“Gloating, are we?”

Yoongi frowns. “No.”

Jihoon gets up from the chair and sits next to his brother. “You must be feeling a lot right now. Knowing you, you must be feeling bad about it.”

“Hyung-”

“Did he blame you for this?”

“No, he is not like that.” He snorts. At his brother’s raised eyebrows, he continues, “He didn’t even let anyone of us know he was suffering from anything.”

“He must have known you would blame yourself once you find out. It’s neither your fault just as much it isn’t his.” Yoongi laughs. “What?”

“Namjoon said that exactly. Though am sure he must feel otherwise.”

“Are your members giving you a hard time for this?”

“No, hyung.”

“Okay, then. Chill and think about this, okay? He didn’t say it to anyone for a reason. You lot are idols. This can mess up a lot. Not to mention you both are boys even if you are not in love. He is.”

“He was.”

“He was?”

“Yea. He had the operation, right? It must be gone now.. That’s why I kept thinking why he has been behaving so differently these days.”

His voice sounds perhaps a tad too bitter because his brother asks, “Did you not want him to?” His brother is frowning. “Nobody can tell you who you should love. Neither can you tell him whether he should keep being in love with you or, choose his own life. You know that. Right?”

His brother looks concerned and Yoongi scoffs. “Why would I ask him to not choose his own life? Like, love me? What