Wonwoo had always been the one who noticed things first.

Example. Their family had just started to accept that their second son, Mingyu, was never going to get together with their neighbor Minghao. Glued together as kids, everyone believed Mingyu and Minghao were one of those lucky people who would spend a lifetime with their childhood sweetheart. But junior high did a lot of things to the two teenagers; Mingyu was somehow convinced that he’s not cool enough for Minghao, and the latter acted like he didn’t spend years of his childhood sticking to Mingyu’s side.

So it came as a surprise to Wonwoo’s family that one day on a shopping district, they passed by the now 15-year-old Mingyu and Minghao, strolling with intertwined hands and slightly flushed cheeks. Mingyu noticed them and hurriedly apologized (he had told them that he was going for a study session with friends at the library). Wonwoo’s family, on the other hand, was more than happy to celebrate this lovely surprise.

But it wasn’t a surprise for Wonwoo the first son.

Somehow he had known. There wasn’t anything definitive; Mingyu alone and giggling at his phone, the subtle change of Minghao’s gaze when the boy passed their house from day to day. Little things like those accumulated and so Wonwoo had sensed it.

Another example was when his youngest brother Seungkwan was adamant on not letting anyone know that he was in pain during their family trip. Their first real trip in years. They didn’t have the time nor money so usually they spend quality time with simple things like cooking and having dinner together or relaxing at the neighborhood park on Sundays. This time they planned a two-days-one-night holiday at a hill just outside the town, staying at a small cottage owned by Dad’s high school friend. Everyone was excited. Maybe that’s why Seungkwan was being stubborn.

They had just arrived at the cottage four hours ago, right before noon. Papa wanted to see the sunset and so they decided to walk to the highest place in the area. They never made it there; Wonwoo spoke out about his suspicion towards Seungkwan, which Seungkwan denied, and so they ended up spending a whole ten minutes arguing in the middle of an ascending road, until the pain became too much and made Seungkwan crouch on the ground.

Needless to say, family trip was cancelled. Dad drove them back to town while trying not break too many traffic rules, and they spent the weekend waiting for Seungkwan as he was treated for hernia.

Wonwoo never meant to search for signs, and yet when he opened his eyes, details popped out and they spoke to him.

That’s why Wonwoo noticed, by the end of his junior high school days up until now when he’s a high school freshman, something was different with his parents.

In front of Wonwoo and his brothers, his Dad Seungcheol and Papa Jun were nothing but the loving and harmonious parents they had always been. More smiles than sighs of complaint, respectful tone of speaking and never raised voice. Yet Wonwoo knew something changed. Maybe it’s his Dad taking a rather long time to take off his shoes each day after work, his slumped back screaming desperation as he sat on their tiny entrance. Or maybe it’s his Papa’s hand, raised between his body and Dad’s when he leaned to give Dad a peck before both of them go to work, awkward and giving the impression of a barrier.

In his silent realization, he was scared.

**

Wonwoo rarely dreamt. Let alone having one so vivid, it stuck to his mind long after consciousness came back to him. This rare incident happened on one ordinary Wednesday night of Wonwoo’s first semester as a high school freshman. He opened his eyes to thin darkness, his near-sighted eyes vaguely recognizing his room’s ceiling, and his awake mind caught images of when he was running—no, jumping from building to building with so much ease that it should’ve felt liberating, yet his chest was filled with restlessness as if he was being chased by something.

For a few moment, it seemed more real than the ceiling.

When he raised his upper body to sit on the bed, he was completely awake. With full consciousness he took the steps down from his mattress at the top of the bunk bed, the lack of noise proving his effort of not waking both of his brothers up. Out of his room he went, feet heading for the kitchen. He didn’t turn on any lights, but he had grabbed his glasses before going out so at least he could recognize shapes and figures. After a glass of water that calmed him, he started walking back to his room, going through the small TV/family room just like he did earlier.

But this time he noticed something, and he stopped.

There in the darkness, lying on their old sofa was Dad. Awake, thought Wonwoo, despite the other’s effort to not move a limb or make any noise.

“Dad?”

The short silence after that was filled with hesitance. Maybe Dad was contemplating on continuing his fake-sleep. It seemed that ultimately he decided against it.

“What’s up?”

“Just getting some water.”

Dad hummed in acknowledgment and another silence hung between them. Wonwoo should’ve said “Good night, Dad” and walked again, but instead he said:

“Dad, let’s go to the game center.”

There was a pause.

“But it’s late.” Dad’s voice sounded confused.

“We got adult supervision.”

“It’s school night.”

“Please, Dad. Just this once.” There’s a whine in his voice and it sounded weird to Wonwoo’s own ears. Had he ever whine before? Not as long as he could remember.

Wonwoo felt somehow embarrassed, but it got him what he wanted.

“Okay,” said Dad’s amused voice. “Let me get my keys and stuffs.”

The sofa creaked as Dad got himself off it and walked to his room. Wonwoo went to his own room and got changed. Minutes later they were out of the house and inside Dad’s car. 11 PM on a Wednesday night.

Wonwoo loved games as much as he loved books. It’s not that often he went to a game center, and he didn’t own any console, borrowing his friends’ most of the time. But he would play free games on his phone whenever he felt like it. Those outside of his family and his little circle of friends would think he was reading an e-book.

So he’s actually more used to using his thumbs rather than his whole body to play games. That’s why he couldn’t get a ball inside the basket, no matter how his Dad tried to teach him, the form and all. His ball kept hitting the ring, and eventually hitting the balls Dad threw. Dad seemed to find it amusing and started to aim for Wonwoo’s ball instead of the basket. They cheered every time the balls hit each other and bounced to the opposite direction.

They played air hockey. Wonwoo thought that he would at this game too. Well, he did. Many times he couldn’t get his puck go farther than half of the box, or hitting it so hard that it bounced back to his area. Dad seemed to find it amusing and began to mimic his lousy hits with a hearty giggle, getting the puck bouncing towards all over the sides but not to the goal. The game ended with Wonwoo feeling his right shoulder slightly sore along with his jaws.

They played the crane game. Dad was in a roll; in the first 5 tries he already got two prizes, one hamster doll for Mingyu and one, big teddy for Seungkwan. Wonwoo could already see how Mingyu would accept his gift with a wide grin and excited “Thanks, Dad!!”, while Seungkwan would say “I don’t play with dolls, Dad.” but keeping the teddy near his pillow.

After getting the teddy, Dad seemed to have seen something inside the glass box, something that made him go silent and furrow his brows in concentration for the next five tries. When he finally got what he targeted, a cat plushie with the size of a palm, he stared at it, fondness and also sadness overflowing from his eyes. Wonwoo felt fear coming back to squeeze his heart. He felt anxious, but he smiled to his Dad and showering the old man with praises of his crane-game skill.

They played the DDR next. Dad let Wonwoo chose an easy song, guiding Wonwoo with “Left! Right! Right! Back!” Wonwoo was not that good but the next round he played the medium level song with his Dad, missing quite a few steps because he enjoyed watching his Dad’s amazingly nimble feet more than moving his own legs to the beat. Lastly Dad played on his own, choosing the highest level of difficulty. It was like someone had the “increase speed” feature on Dad, but only on his legs, as his upper body was barely moving, held still by his hands gripping the bar behind him.

By the time they got back to the car it was past 1 AM. Dad said “This can’t happen again”, trying to give his best Dad talk but failed as his face split into a grin. The grin shone under the bleak light, and Wonwoo felt like grinning too. But then he saw the paper bag on Dad’s lap, the cat plushie peeking from inside.

It’s like air was slowly filling his chest, but none of it came out again and his chest felt too full. It hurt.

“Are you and Papa doing okay?” The words came out of his throat leaving a strange taste, as if he just puked a little. Nauseous.

Dad’s eyes widened in surprise but only for a split second. The next moment they glinted with understanding. A bit of sadness.

“Not really. But we’re trying.”

Wonwoo was grateful that Dad didn’t try to cover it up and make it like it wasn’t Wonwoo’s business. Or maybe Dad thought Wonwoo would see through it anyway, just like how he sensed there’s a problem in the first place. Either way, Wonwoo was thankful and he wanted to do something for his Dad. For his Papa too. He wanted to support them, help them get through this.

But the constricting feeling in his chest wouldn’t disappear, getting harder and harder to ignore, and so the words that escaped his lips were: “I’m scared.”

Regret washed over him as soon as the words came trembling out of his lips. In his head he cursed himself for not being the reliable and supportive son like he’s supposed to be. Dad already had a lot in his plate.

He felt hands on his cheeks, cradling his face and embracing him with warmth. His Dad was looking straight at him and said, “It’s going to be fine.” Dad’s voice didn’t sound very confident and worry was written on the lines of his face, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in his eyes. Wonwoo’s chest felt a little bit lighter.

“It’s going to be fine,” he repeated his Dad’s words. To his surprise, a stunned look passed Dad’s face. After that Dad’s shoulders stopped looking so tense and there’s an air of relief around him. Maybe Wonwoo managed to do his role as the supportive son after all.

When they arrived at home Wonwoo asked if he could sleep with Dad in his room. His Dad gave a quiet chuckle and ruffled his hair.

They entered Dad’s room as quiet as they could be. Inside, Papa was asleep on a small area on the left side of the bed, a body pillow right next to his body, separating him from the other side of the bed. The sight gave Wonwoo’s heart a little squeeze but he didn’t say anything, silently getting on the bed and removed the body pillow so he could lie on the spot it occupied. Dad climbed on next to him; there wasn’t much space left on the bed with the three of them there. Wonwoo hugged the body pillow and tried to scoot towards Papa’s side without waking the latter up so Dad could get a bit more room to wiggle.

Breakfast the next morning was cheerful. Papa showed Mingyu and Seungkwan the photos he took of Wonwoo and Dad. Apparently at some point during their sleep, Wonwoo turned to Dad’s side and snuggled there. Papa and Seungkwan couldn’t stop cooing at how cute they thought it was, and Mingyu was sulking for not being included (“The bed will break if you join them,” said Seungkwan)

Despite the bright atmosphere, Wonwoo still felt anxious. Things didn’t change overnight. Papa and Dad still talked without truly meeting each other’s eyes, and there’s this invisible wall between them that was glaringly obvious to Wonwoo’s eyes. But he held on. He was patient and chose to believe his Dad’s words last night.

A week later he noticed something. Papa had the cat plushie tied to his work bag.