Kyungsoo let his body relax under the other’s feather like touch and snuggle into Jongin's strong, warm chest. "I'm sorry I put you through all of that." Their voices were only just above whispers, yet both of them were oblivious to the reason behind their hushed tones. "When I told you that I'd protect you, I meant it." Kyungsoo pulled back slightly to get a good look at Jongin and his stomach sank at the sight of the nasty, violet shade that tinted his throat. Cautiously outlining the shape of the hand that wrapped around Jongin’s throat with delicate fingers, Kyungsoo felt horrified yet at the same time thankful that he went through all the trouble, just to save him. He still couldn't help but feel a bit guilty though. "At what cost, though?"

    “Jongin-ah.” A small figured middle-aged woman with long black hair and wise eyes, that held many stories of trials and tribulations as well as stories of good fortune and happiness that came with the years she acquired, appeared from behind the closed door with a gentle smile adorning her thin lips. “I made some food for you boys. I’ll bring it to you, if you’re ready to eat.” Jongin let go of Kyungsoo’s hand to stand in front of the nice woman. Kyungsoo wondered if that was Jongin’s mother. If she was, then there was a rather stark contrast in their demeanors. “You didn’t have to do that, Ajumma.” Ajumma...? So this woman isn’t Jongin’s mother?

    “Of course I did. And what did I tell you about calling me Ajumma? I’ve been with you for six years. Call me Umma. Now, get your friend up so he can eat. After that, I’ll bandage him up and put some cream on those nasty bruises.”

    “Neh, Umma.” Jongin returned to his spot on the bed next to Kyungsoo. The smaller boy snuggled right up to his chest, and Jongin wrapped protective arms the smaller body before him. Kyungsoo had so many questions to ask about the woman, but Jongin spoke first. “Do you think you can walk?” Kyungsoo nodded and attempted to get up, but the discomfort was just too much. Jongin instantly took notice and caught the smaller boy before he fell. He then gently sat Kyungsoo down on the bed. “Don’t worry. I’ll carry you.” Kyungsoo was once again delicately swooped into Jongin’s arms, bridal style. That lovely hue of pink, that Jongin loved so much, covered his swollen cheeks for the second time that day.

    “Jongin...” Kyungsoo’s soft voice called out to him as he was carried through the house. Jongin hummed softly to show he was paying attention. “That woman. Who is she?” Reluctance to answer the question was written all over Jongin’s face. Kyungsoo could feel Jongin slowly shutting him out as he watched Jongin's eyes grow dark. “I’ll... I’ll tell you later.” They were both silent for the rest of the journey to the dinner table. Upon reaching the table, Kyungsoo was surprised to see the vast array of foods covering it. He promptly remembered that his father had him locked in a basement without food or water for two, maybe three days. He had lost count. The immediate onset hunger was virtually unbearable. Jongin lightly set Kyungsoo down and took the seat right next to him.

    The woman that called herself Jongin’s mother, came out of the kitchen carrying a tray that held what looked to be cups of tea. After placing the contents of the tray on the table, she turned in order to speak to Kyungsoo. “I know you must be hungry, sweetheart, so eat as much as you’d like. Just don’t make yourself sick, okay? Take your time, and I’m sorry for not introducing myself earlier. My name is SuHwa. I’m Jongin’s mother.” Kyungsoo’s eyes widened at the revelation. Didn’t Jongin call her ‘ajumma’ earlier? Kyungsoo looked to Jongin to verify if what the woman was saying was true. Jongin gave no more than a short nod and mouthed ‘later’ to him.

    It was Kyungsoo’s turn to introduce himself. “M-my name is Do K-Kyungsoo.” Kyungsoo did his best to bow respectfully and SuHwa presented the nervous boy with another one of her gentle smiles. “There’s no need for you to be scared anymore, Kyungsoo-ah. Jongin told me a little about what happened while you were still sleeping, and I know for a fact that he will protect you.” Kyungsoo felt his cheeks redden with embarrassment at her kind words. He looked over to see that Jongin’s cheeks too had changed in color significantly.

    After dinner, Kyungsoo found himself sitting on Jongin’s bed while SuHwa treated his injuries just as she promised. She skillfully applied antiseptic cream and the bandages to his face and body all the while quietly tutting to herself. “This is as much as I can do for you. Now, I want you to take these painkillers and give your body some much-needed rest. You’ll be staying here from now on, so make yourself at home, sweetie.” Kyungsoo was surprised that SuHwa had so willingly offered her home to him. Until now, he hadn’t been aware of the fact that there was no way that he could possibly return to his house. He felt very thankful towards her. “Th-thank you SuHwa-ssi.” SuHwa clicked her tongue at Kyungsoo. “You can call me Umma, too.” At this, Jongin interceded for Kyungsoo. “Umma, thanks for everything. You can go now.”

 After closing his door, Jongin returned to his previous spot on the bed. When Jongin returned, Kyungsoo immediately snuggled into his warm chest and allowed himself to unwind. Their silence was comforting. “I...” Jongin started to speak but was hesitant in his approach. “I know you have a lot of questions, but..... but I think it would be best if you just let me talk.” Kyungsoo twisted his body until he was face to face with Jongin, indicating that the younger man had his full, undivided attention. “Uhm... okay..... uhh..”

    “When I was eight, my mother had gotten the news that my father had heart cancer. He had Cardiac Rhabdomyosarcomas. It is a very rare and aggressive type of cancer, but I was only told minor details and did not know of the seriousness. The doctors didn’t give him much time to live, but did the best they could to save him. He went through various bouts of chemotherapy and had surgery twice, but the cancer was spreading to other areas of his heart. Because he was getting worse, he became a permanent resident at the hospital. My mother and my sisters kept telling me that he would be fine and that he would get out of the hospital soon, but it was clear that as time went on, it wasn't getting better. He was getting worse. I remember the times when my mother would take me to visit him how he was hooked up to so many monitors and IVs. He looked so weak and fragile; he was completely different from the man I knew to be my father.”

    “I know this sounds cliche, but everything happened so fast. My mom called for help and then my sisters were trying to take me out of the room. I didn’t want to leave my dad’s side though, so I tried to fight them. Nurses rushed into our room with all of this strange equipment. My dad’s coughing got worse and then the doctor was yelling commands. They were trying to stabilize him but nothing worked. There were too many people in the room. The nurses pushed us out so they could work on my dad. My mom was crying. She called my sister over and whispered something in her ear. Then she came to me and started pulling me to the exit. I was so distracted that I only caught parts of what she was saying to me. Even now, I can’t remember what she said. My mom and my other sister stayed at the hospital. The drive back to my house was so quiet. I could only think about my dad and how he might be dying. When I got home, I went to my room. I figured that if I went to sleep, when I woke up everything would be fine again. I couldn’t sleep though, not with the knowledge that my father was in fact dying. I left my room to go talk to my sister in hopes of being able to be comforted by her, but when I reached the stairs, she was on the phone with my mother.”

    At this point in the story, one lone tear slowly slid from Jongin’s eye down his cheek. Kyungsoo had known from the beginning that this was something that left a deep impression on Jongin, but he really wasn’t prepared for this. Only twice had Jongin shown his weaker side to Kyungsoo, once during their fight in the rain and the other when they were in Kyungsoo’s mother’s garden. Even those times Jongin never got emotional enough to cry. This side of Jongin wasn’t particularly new but it was so unexpected. It wasn’t completely unwelcome either. Just very different.

    Somehow, Jongin found himself pressed against Kyungsoo’s small chest, his hands clutching the back of his shirt while tears spilled from his eyes silently. He’d only ever shown this side of him to SuHwa before, and he was amazed at how comfortable Kyungsoo’s presence could make him feel at times like this. Kyungsoo had his arms wrapped around Jongin, rocking them both back and forth while Kyungsoo softly pet his hair. In some ways, he could relate to Jongin’s story. He had lost a parent at a tender age, and that left a deep scar on him as well. He went through some of the same things Jongin went through, too. Jongin’s confession had connected them on a deeper level. Jongin could feel Kyungsoo chest trembling. He looked up to see that the smaller boy had been crying as well. “Why are you crying?”

    Jongin couldn’t comprehend why Kyungsoo was crying. Does he truly understand what I had to go through or does he just feel sorry for me? The idea that Kyungsoo just felt sorry for him without any compassion made Jongin angry. “I understand how you feel. When I lost my mother, I thought that I had nothing to live for and that I’d rather be dead. I had no choice but to look on the bright side of things, even though there was none. I’ve been doing that ever since she died.” This made Jongin curious about Kyungsoo’s past. Since he had told Kyungsoo about his, he felt that it was only fair that Kyungsoo return the favor.

    “My mother was 18 and fresh out of high school when she met my father. He was 24 at the time. They fell madly in love, so when they found out she was pregnant with me two years later, they decided to get married. My father worked for a very successful business and had enough money to support all three of us, but when I was five, he lost his job when the company went bankrupt. We ended up having to move out of our house into a smaller apartment because he could no longer afford to pay the mortgage. My mother got a job as a florist so we could keep our apartment. My father felt ashamed that he couldn’t support me and my mother so he ended up turning to alcohol. My mother hated him for that. He had told her when I was born that he would be a better father to me than his father was to him, but he was making the same mistakes. His father became an alcoholic too, and died four years earlier from liver cancer. My mother didn’t want that to be him and she threatened to leave. She never did though. They had argued about it all the time and they would have yelling matches with each other over the stupidest things. They would throw things and curse. It was only when he started to get violent with her that she finally had enough. 

     We moved out of that apartment after my mom got better. My father said that the neighbors were too nosy. At our new apartment, my parents didn’t fight as often as they used to. I think that was partly due to the fact that my mother was absolutely terrified of my father and she spoke her mind less. A few months after moving into the new apartment, my father got a job at a factory. About a year later he started going to AA meetings. When I was nine, he promised my mother that he would be sober from then on and she believed him. He was doing a good job at keeping his promise, too. I thought everything was getting back to normal, but that was the wrong assumption to make. I had no clue he was still hitting her. She still had her job as a florist so he never left bruises anywhere people could see them. But I saw them one night when I should have been sleeping. They were arguing about money or something like that when he reached across the table and hit her and told her that she was being stupid. She was crying and he raised his hand to hit her again, but stopped. He yelled at me to go back to bed even though I was carefully hidden around a corner. I don’t know how he knew I was watching them, but he did. The only things that I remember from the rest of that year was that they fought whenever I went to bed and my father got more and more violent, even though he stopped drinking.”

    “About a month after I turned ten, my mother got into a car accident and died. She was trying to run away from my dad again. I guess you can say that she got away. . . She just left me behind. I know she didn’t want to leave me, she told me so herself. It was when my father was working a double shift at the factory, she came into my room and told me that her and I were going to leave soon. I asked her what she was talking about and she told me that she had been putting away some money since she had gotten a job just in case. She was telling how she had enough money for a security deposit on an apartment and the first three months’ rent. She told me that the apartment she rented was near a park and that I could be able to have friends my own age, how she was going to start her very own garden and sell flowers. She told me how it was just going to be the two of us and that we would be safe, all those wonderful things, and I was very excited to leave. We had a plan of how we were going to get away from my father. She was going to leave in the morning, pretending to go to work when in reality she quit her job so he couldn’t come looking for us. She was going to pick me up from school and give the principal my transfer papers. Then, we would go to the new apartment and that was it. When the day came for us to leave, I waited after school for her to pick me up, but she never came for me so I had to walk home by myself.