Kyuhyun got along well with all his brothers, even if some of them got more easily annoyed with him because of his snarky mouth. Still, fifteen brothers meant that playing favourites was almost inevitable. It was safe to say he was closest to Sungmin, who was one of his first friends, and Ryeowook, who was close to him in age. Therefore, when Siwon arrived at the school canteen scanning the area for Kyuhyun, he did not mind the loud groan from the maknae.

“I thought Ryeowookie-hyung was going to pick me up,” Kyuhyun demanded. He ignored the stares coming from the girls in the school, and the jealous glances by the boys. Siwon remained oblivious to them. He sat down opposite the table, looking very mature and out of place in the middle school with his height and build.

“He’s not feeling well today,” Siwon said, clasping his hands together. He gave a smile worthy of a CF. “Aren’t you glad to see Siwonnie-hyung?”

Kyuhyun gave him a look at the self-proclaimed nickname. Siwon looked down, feigning hurt. “I don’t know why everyone else gets affectionate nicknames and I don’t,” he sighed.

“That’s ‘cause your hobby is working out in the gym, hyung,” Kyuhyun replied. He tapped the table with his fingers, looking bored. He had been doing his homework along in the canteen; food distracting any unwanted attention from bullies at that moment. Now he was with Siwon, no one would dare lift a finger on him. Kyuhyun pouted unintentionally – it wasn’t fair that Siwon was born athletic, smart and good-looking.

Siwon noticed that and cleared his throat. “Teukie-hyung is with Ryeowookie,” he said. “I’m supposed to entertain you until evening.”

“What’s he doing?” exclaimed Kyuhyun, surprised. “Going to the next state for a hospital visit?”

Siwon looked unnecessarily uncomfortable. “Something like that. I was thinking… do you want to go to church with me, Kyu? It’s been a while since you’ve been there.”

Siwon looked hopefully at the young boy. Truth be told, Siwon had been spending time in church every day since the kidnapping incident, praying for Kyuhyun’s recovery and the family bond to strengthen in the time of crisis. He may have been returning home late recently because of basketball practices, but he never failed to have a conversation with Heechul, with whom he shared a bedroom with. Heechul complained long about everything, including the fragile state Leeteuk was in and how quiet Kibum was recently. All Siwon wanted was some peace and reassurance in their lives, after he had escaped his own violent past.

Kyuhyun pretended to look at the fat boy in class fumbling for change for vending machine snacks. He liked going with Siwon to church. While there were other family members who sometimes went to church, Siwon was the only one who didn’t need a dire urgency to address when he went. It was unquestioning and peaceful to be with his hyung. And maybe he did need some divine intervention in his life. I want to remember what happened.

“Either that or we can shoot some hoops!” Siwon continued, raising his palms in a whatever-works fashion. “I remember the basketball courts here… if we avoid that huge hole in the centre, we can play a decent game.”

“Church.”

It was very serene in church. Being there on a weekday afternoon meant that there were not many parishioners around. After an hour or so, they were back in the church’s small canteen.

“Hyung.”

“Kyu?”

“Today has something to do with Ryeowook-hyung’s family, right? His real family.” It hurt both of them to hear the words ‘real family’ – something only few out of the fifteen of them ever had. “He’s not sick.”

It was not an exaggeration to say that Siwon felt something tug at his heart when he looked at Kyuhyun’s face. He was resolutely looking down at his hands, rocking his chair on its front legs in a precarious position children liked to do. Kyuhyun’s face was paler than usual, and the way he resolutely set his jaw was a habit he picked up from Eunhyuk when the latter was upset.

“What makes you think that?” Siwon asked, as gently as possible.

“There’s a calendar on the table,” Kyuhyun said. “Me, Kibum-hyung, Ryeowook-hyung and Henry use it. Ryeowook-hyung and Kibum-hyung both circled the date but they never wrote why. And both their eyes were red this morning.” His voice was slow and hesitant, as if voicing out his older brothers’ moments of weakness softly would reduce the impact it had on the maknae.

“It could have been anything,” Siwon pointed out, just to make sure Kyuhyun wasn’t jumping to conclusions.

Kyuhyun shook his head impatiently. “Henry looks the same too, whenever he misses his family in Canada,” he said.

Siwon’s fingers suddenly flexed, as if he wanted to reach his handphone and call Leeteuk already. “Henry is still crying?” he probed, shocked.

“Less often now.” Henry was not the only non-Korean in the orphanage – Zhou Mi and Hangeng were of Chinese descent. The twelve-year-old boy had loving, kind parents his whole life and lived in Canada. They were poor, and relocated to Korea for better job opportunities. A month later, his parents had been involved in a fatal car accident, and Henry had been dumped in an orphanage. His conversational Chinese allowed him to talk to Hangeng and Zhou Mi, and Kibum’s limited English vocabulary was often useful in deciphering Henry’s words when the latter dissolved into tears every other night. It had been only a year, so that Henry had been adopted into Leeteuk’s self-made family almost immediately. “What about Ryeowook-hyung?”

“It’s his dad’s death anniversary today,” Siwon said very quietly. “He was a good man.”

The way Kyuhyun’s eyes went wide was startling. Kyuhyun had never known a father. As the silence hung in the air, Siwon thought back to that morning. Kyuhyun had been very shrewd about Kibum.

Flashback

The door creaked open at six in the morning. The light from the hallway – where Leeteuk was studying for his university exams – flooded part of the room. It woke Siwon up.

“Huh?” he mumbled groggily. The small figure pushed the door close. He walked to the bed at the acclaimed spot next to the window.

“Hyung?” whispered a hoarse voice.

Heechul’s arms flayed, smacking the boy in the face. The boy said nothing. Heechul rolled over in his bed, and propped himself on one arm to squint at the boy. “Kibum?”

In the little light that came through the half-opened window, Heechul would see the wet stain on the younger’s cheeks. Heechul scooted backwards in the bed and looked around the room. Siwon was the only one with his eyes open. Heechul threw a glance at Siwon that clearly said, ‘Quiet’.

Kibum sat on the edge of the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest. He hugged his legs, making himself as small as possible. Being naturally quiet, and one of Heechul’s favourite dongsaeng, Heechul refrained from commenting. When the silence became strained, Kibum suddenly blurted out, “I hate Ryeowook-hyung.”

Heechul immediately gave a disbelieving look. Of all people, Ryeowook? “What?”

“I hate him, hate him, hate him” Kibum hissed, with a vengeance. At each word ‘hate’, his voice broke just a bit more so that by the end of the sentence, his shoulders were shaking with sobs.

Heechul moved closer to Kibum. He went into a sitting position, leaning back against the wall. “Why would you hate Ryeowook?”

There was a long pause. “He’s too nice.”

There was a sigh that bordered between impatience and sympathy. “Kibum –”

“He has a dad,” Kibum mumbled through his unshed tears. “He was crying a few days ago and I asked him why. He has a dad all his life to keep him warm and love him and teach him. His dad died two years ago today.” Kibum lifted an arm to wipe his tears but Heechul was faster. Heechul wrapped Kibum in his blanket and used the edge to wipe his face. There was an unusual expression on Heechul’s face. “My f-f-father…” His voice trailed off and he broke down.

Siwon couldn’t stay silent anymore. He threw his own blankets off and went to sit on Kibum’s other side, putting his arm around Kibum’s shoulder.

“Your father passed away around this time too, Kibum,” Heechul said quietly, not sugar-coating his words.

“I don’t care!”

The anger in the voice was scary and too sincere. It did not suit a fifteen-year-old.

Kibum turned, and Siwon enveloped him in a hug. “It’s not fair that Ryeowook-hyung gets a gooddad,” Kibum said in a muffled voice. “He shouldn’t be sad – he had so much time spent with him! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it.”

Siwon ran his fingers through Kibum’s hair comfortingly while using his other hand to pat Kibum’s back reassuringly – where the ugly red scars drew long parallel lines underneath the thin shirt. Kibum was too far gone to listen anymore. His sobs were now loud and unstoppable.

The sound of scampering footsteps drew near and the door flung open.

Ryeowook was already crying, with Leeteuk standing behind him with the most anguished expression on his face. Leeteuk was holding on to Ryeowook’s arm, trying to stop him from entering the room. The angry tears splashed onto Ryeowook’s cheeks freely, his hands uncharacteristically clenched into fists. Mingled in the anger was a degree of grief that none of them ever wanted to see on Ryeowook’s face again.

Leeteuk was torn between the two maknaes. He exchanged helpless glances with Heechul. Heechul drew closer to Kibum, so Leeteuk held fast to Ryeowook.

Kibum was facing Ryeowook now, but he was clutching onto Siwon’s hand so hard that it hurt. Siwon stood up protectively, when Kibum had. It was the first time Kibum felt afraid of Ryeowook. The vulnerability was clear on his face.

Ryeowook was breathing through his mouth, gulping in air to calm himself down. The walls were thin, and Ryeowook had guessed most of Kibum’s feelings already given how close they were. The ferocity he felt well inside him at Kibum’s accusations was a foreign feeling. He had run blindly across the corridor, already hearing Leeteuk’s footsteps. All he saw in the bedroom, however, was a young boy broken by a man who was father only in name and not in duty. Ryeowook had been in the orphanage already when Kibum had walked in, his snow white skin marred by blue-black bruises and faint red cuts.

Ryeowook lurched forwards, feeling very much like he was on a moving ship. With surprising strength, he pushed away all the hands that had blocked his way and crashed into Kibum. Kibum was taller than Ryeowook, but at that moment, Ryeowook was the hyung.

“I’m sorry,” Ryeowook kept repeating. It felt strange. He had anticipated to be gripped with sadness. He had wanted to seek comfort from Leeteuk or Yesung. In the forced embrace, he just wanted to take away Kibum’s unwanted memories. Kibum never talked about it, but the record files Kyuhyun hacked were detailed enough. “I’m really, really sorry.”

It took a long time for any of them to move from that position.

“Where are they now?” Kyuhyun asked, oblivious to what had happened. It was a good thing that Eunhyuk’s and Shindong’s bedrooms were on the ground floor. They had slept through the morning.

Siwon snapped out of his reverie. “Ryeowook?”

“Who else, hyung?”

“They’re at the cemetery,” Siwon replied, after a moment’s thought. “Leeteuk-hyung, Kangin-hyung and Ryeowook.”

“How would Ryeowook-hyung know where his dad is?” Kyuhyun asked, frowning.

Siwon shrugged. He supposed that one of the worst things to witness is your parent’s funeral while you’re still young enough to need a parent’s care and love. Not that he minded very much.

“I want to go,” Kyuhyun demanded. He looked up, his face set. “Let’s go.”

“This kind of thing is a private matter Kyu–”

“Isn’t it our matter too? We’re a family now, right?”

The silence in the church had never been more disturbing.

Kyuhyun was well aware that the money Siwon was forking out for the cab fare was hard-earned salary giving English lessons to his peers. Though Siwon was nowhere as fluent as Henry – and often asked the maknae for help – he was decent enough to be recommended. Everyone knew Siwon would rather be at the basketball courts or running rounds around the track team than be shut up in a library for hours after school; so the sacrifice was keenly felt by Kyuhyun.

He had no idea why he was so adamant to see Ryeowook’s father. It was the first time he would be in close proximity with a well-loved relative of someone he knew, and he wanted to see how it felt like.

It felt awful.

Ryeowook seemed to be carved from stone; the way he was sitting so still in front of the tombstone. He was very, very pale under the sunlight. He had an unfocused gaze that told though he was there physically; his mind was in the past.

Kangin was looking out at the masses of tombstones. They were on top of a small hill, overlooking most of the right field. He had a suntan from his two-week training camp for the university judo team. Leeteuk was beside him, wearing sunglasses and a floppy straw hat that would have looked strange on any other person. He was talking to Kangin very quietly, but cut the conversation off when he saw Siwon.

“What are you doing here?” Leeteuk asked, his voice unnaturally loud in the still cemetery.

“I made Siwon-hyung come,” Kyuhyun said, saving his hyung from the stern glare Leeteuk was giving. “I want to see Ryeowook-hyung.”

“Not now, Kyuhyun.” Leeteuk gave a sideways glance to Ryeowook, who still did not respond. “Go take a walk. In fact – go make yourself useful and bring back Heechul and Kibummie.”

“They’re here too?” Siwon was surprised. Leeteuk had stressed to the high school batch and older that absolute privacy should be given to Ryeowook. Nobody seemed to have listened.

“I want to stay,” Kyuhyun said stubbornly.

“Kyuhyun,” three voices said simultaneously. Siwon sounded resigned, Kangin was commanding, and Leeteuk had an air of finality.

The maknae glared furiously back. Why wasn’t anybody next to Ryeowook, giving comforting words? It was very unsettling to see the life go out of Ryeowook. Not wanting to make a scene, Kyuhyun turned and ran.

Kibum was lost in his own world, but that was okay, seeing that Heechul was doing most of the talking. “I like this place,” Heechul rambled on, as they sat down at a bench near the car park exit. “Nobody bothers you. Once I spent three days here just looking at the Kims in my family. You won’t believe the amount of flowers Hangeng produced from nowhere when he heard where I went; he insisted on coming along to clear the overgrown plants and pay respects. Then – Siwon, what are you doing here?”

Siwon sat next to Kibum, the looks on their faces almost as identical as their backgrounds. Kyuhyun stood in front of Heechul, sweating lightly under the sun so that his dark hair was plastered to his white face.

“Why isn’t anybody saying anything?” Kyuhyun burst out. There was childish confusion in his face; like a child who tried and tried but couldn’t solve a math problem despite analysing the question upside down, right side up. “If someone di–” A hand clamped shut on his mouth. There was sudden déjà vu at the feeling, and Kyuhyun struggled as he was dragged along the path.

“You idiot,” Heechul said bluntly, releasing his hold on the maknae when they were out of hearing range. “Who do you think you’re helping, screaming like that?”

“I don’t understand,” persisted Kyuhyun, wiping his mouth in mild disgust.

Heechul understood what Kyuhyun meant. Of the fifteen, only Kyuhyun did not remember a time with a family. The rest had some sort of past to reflect upon, whether with joy or unhappiness. Heechul had spent most of his teenage years angry at his past, but the years allowed him to make peace with himself. The others did not have the fortune to have done so yet, except perhaps Leeteuk.  

“Fine.”

“Huh?”

Heechul picked the person Kyuhyun was closest to. “If Sungmin died tomorrow, what would you say?”

Kyuhyun stumbled back in shock. “You don’t say those kinds of things!” he snapped. “Uh, hyung,” he added belatedly when Heechul glared at him.

“If Ryeowook was gone tomorrow, what would you do?”

“Hyung!”

“Yah, what would you do?” For some reason, there was force behind the question.

Kyuhyun was fourteen-years-old, but sometimes that was too young. “I don’t know,” he said quietly, finally thinking on the questions. “I would want them back.” When he lifted his eyes back up, Heechul realised that he might have scared the maknae too much. “I want to be with Ryeowook-hyung.”

“No,” Heechul continued his onslaught mercilessly. “I’ll just hang around here with you for a while.”

“I don’t care about you,” Kyuhyun’s mouth ran away before his common sense caught up. His eyes widened, and he stepped back and flinched instinctively, anticipating the incoming blow.

“Kyuhyun, I haven’t hit anyone in five years, eventhough I feel like I ought to kick you off that hill.” Heechul’s voice was calm and controlled, just like how Hangeng behaved when he was angry. “You can’t let go of some memories, can you? I’m no replacement for Ryeowook, am I?”

The confusion was slowly clearing, but Kyuhyun suddenly felt a lot older as well. “It’s not us Ryeowook needs right now,” Heechul said finally, turning away to go back to the bench. “Neither does Siwon nor Kibum, although they won’t say anything. We’re just… here. In case.”

Heechul’s handphone beeped. He took it out and read the text message. “Let’s go back to Kangin’s car.”

The ride back home was quiet. It was getting late, and the sky had turned crimson. Six people fit into the car precariously, with Kibum half-sitting on Siwon’s knee.

“Ryeowook-hyung, is it nice to have a family?” Kyuhyun brought up suddenly. The car suddenly swerved. Luckily, the streets were empty. There were immediate cries of exclamation and more than one yell of Kyuhyun’s name.

“It feels safe.” The hoarse voice replied quietly, effectively silencing the whole car. “There’s someone to hug, cry to, share food with… No matter what happens or how bad things get, it’s like there’s a superhero that’s always there to take care of you.” Ryeowook unconsciously leaned closer to Siwon. Kibum kept his gaze directed the floor.

“But hyung–”

“No more questions, Kyuhyun,” Leeteuk said, turning around in the front seat. “I’ll talk to you when we get back home.”

“But hyung,” Kyuhyun continued, ignoring Leeteuk, “that sounds like what we have now. Is that a family?”

Nobody answered his question.

When they arrived back home, and each of them collapsed to their respective bedrooms, Kyuhyun stayed behind in the car with Kangin. Leeteuk went to see Ryeowook and Kibum first.

“You ask a lot of questions,” Kangin said, giving Kyuhyun a look. “You need to remember there aren’t too many answers sometimes.”

“Sorry.” It wasn’t easy to pull out an apology from Kyuhyun, so Kangin nodded. Just then, Leeteuk came out of the house, looking tired. Kangin gave a pat on the maknae’s shoulder and went into the house. Kyuhyun eyed the eldest warily.

“Poor Kangin,” sighed Leeteuk, looking over his shoulder, “to come back from a training camp to such an emotional day. And he’s not saying anything about it.” There was underlying pride in the words. Kyuhyun didn’t understand, but there were too many things he didn’t understand that day.

He expected a good dressing down. Maybe a smack. A week’s worth of back-breaking chores. Certainly some punishment of some sort.

Leeteuk gave him a bar of chocolate.

“There’s someone to hug, to cry to, to share food with…” Leeteuk repeated slowly, as Kyuhyun stared at the piece of candy, the piece of frivolous spending they could not really afford. “…to ask questions, to answer questions.”

“There aren’t too many answers sometimes.”

Leeteuk looked surprised, but he gave his first real smile that day. It took the emotionally-draining afternoon for Kyuhyun to appreciate the impact of a cheerful smile. “That’s true too. So what do you think?”

“What?”

“Try to answer your own questions sometimes, Kyuhyun. Do you think we’re family?”

“I don’t know what a family is like.” Kyuhyun took the bar of chocolate and broke it into half.

“It doesn’t matter,” Leeteuk replied softly, accepting his piece. “Neither does anyone else here.”