“When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.”

―George R.R. Martin

Jiyong was panting, heart racing and body growing colder by the minute. He didn't get a chance to tell their parents why he left so suddenly. All he knew was that he found himself out the door as soon as the line got cut off. 

He could still hear it in his head.

The screeching tires... the screams... the sound of the crash. 

His legs weakened and he stumbled unceremoniously to the ground. Picking himself up with a desperate groan, he continued to run—run after her before it was too late. His head snapped in every direction, already feeling like he was about to burst out in tears any second now. Dara told him that she was close so she really shouldn't be far.

By the stoplight.

Jiyong's breath hitched as soon as he saw the crowd gathering on the far end of the street. There was a commotion, people murmuring loudly and looking distressed. As if on automatic, Jiyong found himself robotically walking over the scene, fists tightly clenched and eyes already dripping with unshed tears. 

He didn't have time for common courtesy so he pushed people off to get to the middle. 

And there, he felt his whole world stop. 

-when he was 14-

His footsteps crunched as an array of dried leaves covered the whole pathway. It was cold yet it was only mid-Autumn. He shivered when the cool wind kissed his cheeks and instinctively, he burrowed himself more beneath his oversized scarf and hat. It was only 4 in the afternoon but the sun was already going down, only leaving a hue of dark reds and oranges with hints of violet in the skies. 

Jiyong glanced down at her first before copying her, respectfully kneeling and placing the bouquet in front of the simple tombstone. He caught her peeking at him amidst her prayers but didn't bother to look back. Instead, he brought his hands together to pay his respects. 

Truthfully, he didn't like going to the cemetery. Every time they went, Dara would often cry, be it quiet and secretive or loud and full of anguish. Tonight, it seemed like she hasn't shed a tear but he could see the sadness in her eyes. These were one of the moments were he could see the sincerity in her expression. It wasn't common to see her so thoughtful and melancholic. Usually, she was a bubble of joy, always trying to divert everyone from the negative by forcing her own positivity on everyone. 

But the Dara beside him was different. Today, she looked mature. 

After a while, they sat Indian-style in front of the grave, just quietly looking and reminiscing. Jiyong didn't really know much about her father since the man died when he was still so young. He's seen pictures of him though. Dara got his eyes, and he knew more than anyone that she got his smile too. From the stories he heard from Dara's mother, he learned that her father was a stubborn mule that was a bit on the foolish side. He laughed at that time. If that didn't sound like Dara then he didn't know what did. 

Dara however, never really liked talking about him. Of course she would mention him occasionally when describing an anecdote or a funny memory. But all in all, whenever he asks about him, Dara would either shut down or change the subject. From there he realized that the thought of her father only made her sad so he didn't bother to bring it up anymore. 

But even though she wasn't vocal about it, he knew that she still loved, cared, and thought about him. Her visits to his grave were regular, and the fact that she had to take two buses to get there didn't stop her. She'd try to visit at least once a month and Jiyong would often find himself coming with her. Dara never really announced her visits to anyone but he just knew the times when she'd go to him. There wasn't a specific thing that had to be checked and there wasn't a special occasion that urged her to come there. 

But just from the look on her face, he knew.

This was one of those days. She didn't go to school in the morning and he didn't either. She was just in her bed, staring distantly at nothing in particular, while Jiyong sat on her floor, leaning on her bedside. Neither of them talked but the atmosphere was doing a great job for them. 

When it came time to eat, her mother would give him food that the both of them can share. Like her daughter, Mrs. Park adopted the state of spontaneous melancholy and didn't go to work as well. Silently, they would eat in her room, side by side as they watched from the dinosaur she called her TV. 

Go home, she'd told him faintly. 

Jiyong would never respond. Instead, he'd always do the opposite and stay—stay until he could see his Dara again. 

"I'm not afraid." he heard her say as she put her head on his shoulder. 

He scooted closer and wrapped his scarf around the both of them. "About what?" he asked. 

"Dying." she whispered. 

Jiyong glanced up at the somber night sky as his head landed softly against hers. "Me too." 

"That's good... we shouldn't be afraid of death." 

He didn't like this. 

"But I don't want you to die." he blurted out, heart pacing all of the sudden. He could feel her tensing up beside him and he tightened his hold against her arm when he felt her trying to remove herself. "I don't want you to die, Dara." 

And then he heard her soft cries.

"I-I can't..." she slurred. 

"You can." 

"Jiyong—"

"If either of us is dying then it should be me." he sighed. "It's better if I die before you."

He was suddenly met with a hit upside the head that made him wince. "That's not funny." she growled.

But he was saying the truth.

So in the end, he just humored her, "It's true. It's better if I die first, right? I mean, you owe me a lot of money. That's your one way ticket to get off debt-free—"

"Stop it!" she shouted, causing him to flinch. She stood up and suddenly started to kick him, sending the boy to the ground. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" she chanted furiously. 

"Aisht! That's starting to hurt!" he hissed, struggling to stand up. "You stop it!" 

"Stop it!" 

When he successfully got himself up, he was about to pounce at her when he saw her bawling face. 

"Stop it." she continued to repeat, her glassy eyes blocking her vision. "Don't say that." 

Idiot. You were the one who brought it up first.

He sighed in resignation before he stepped closer and wiped her snot with his scarf. Inwardly, he grimaced but he still did it every time new tears sprung. In the end, they found themselves sitting back down with Dara continuing to sniffle every now and again. 

"Jiyong."

"What?" 

She opened and closed it... and that went on for a few minutes more before he let out an irritated breath, telling her to just spit it out. 

"Do you... Do you think I'll be able to grow old?" 

He sputtered incredulously. "You're old now, aren't you?" 

Instead of hearing a jab back, she just shook her head and continued, "No, I mean... Do you think I'll live until I'm old and wrinkly like omma?" 

Jiyong knew the hidden meaning behind her wonder. And he also knew that every time they went her, it wasn't really her father that she was thinking about.

"Of course you will." he assured faintly. "I'm gonna make sure we're gonna grow old together." 

Dara was thinking about her future—her death. 

She peered at him distastefully but he could see the slight tilt of . "I'm not gonna keep babysitting you even if you're wearing adult diapers." she chuckled, shaking her head. 

She didn't get it.

He watched her through a side-long glance. He always liked the way her eyes crinkled... how she confidently shows her teeth amidst a laugh... even her cute, little unintentional snorts. 

"I'm not gonna change your diapers either." he remarked in a whisper. 

She looked back at him with that glint of mischief in her eyes and shook her head one last time. "Idiot." she mumbled. 

And there he knew that she was finally back. 

"You're a good kid, Kwon."

Good kid, he scoffed at that. This is why he didn't like the age difference. It was one thing that he had to call her 'noona' (which he already bypassed) but it was another thing when she kept referring to him as a child. It was like she was rubbing it on his face that he was still a baby in her eyes. He hated that about her. And it was only a four years difference! It wasn't like she was that older. And now he sulked. 

"Shut up." he glowered. 

His annoyance only heightened when she patted his head and pinched his cheek. She let out a belting laugh when he stood up and stomped away from her. Dara knew he didn't like being treated like that but it was just too fun seeing him all riled up. Little baby thinks he's an adult now. She giggled to herself again. 

"Wait for me, Kwon Jiyong!" she hollered, still chuckling. 

He gave her a one-finger salute as he strode even farther away from her. 

Her eyes softened at his retreating figure. With a shivering breath, she stood up and put a hand over her father's grave, looking at it with a mix of tenderness and despair. 

"I love you, appa." she muttered. "But I don't want to see you too soon." 

"GET YOUR IN HERE! IT'S SO ING COLD!" Jiyong shouted from afar. 

Ignoring his threat, she crouched one last time and dusted off the fallen leaves that lay on top of the marble stone. Carefully, she took out a stem from the bouquet of different coloured irises. It was a blue one that was tinged with white was what she took—faith, hope, and purity. He could hear faint steps coming closer to her but she didn't have time to acknowledge the presence. Her lips pressed against the soft petals before she gently placed it on the foot of his tomb. 

"Please save me from death." 

Jiyong froze on his spot. He was standing only a few feet away from her but he still heard it loud and clear. 

Save me from death.

He could feel his throat clogging up as his eyes grew more concerned and anxious. He stepped forward an inch but even that took him a lot of willpower to do. 

I don't want you to die.

He took another step but that was when she finally stood up, preparing to leave. She gave him an innocent look, almost borderline clueless for that matter. Jiyong looked like he'd been caught and was now so still that he couldn't bare to move let alone breathe.

I don't want you to die.

Dara grabbed his limp hand and tugged on it. Tilting her head, she smiled, "Let's go home?" 

He nodded stiffly, pretending to stretch and facing his eyes to the sky so that she wouldn't notice that he was on the brink of himself. He let out a huge sigh before straightening up and taking her hand.

Please don't let her die.

"Let's go." 

Please don't let her die.

He never thought there would come a day where he would see his hands covered with blood—her blood. How can the little blood she had on her face smear his hand so easily like that? Jiyong felt like he couldn't breathe. He was about to hold her when the shout of the par