Somday
It (does)n’t happen - intermediate -
“What.. what’s all this?” Minho asked with a brow raised while pulling books and notes from under Minseok’s bed, having peeked under there after rolling from the bed to the floor in a hearty laugh at his brother goofing off.
Minseok quickly crouched beside Minho and hurriedly grabbed up his handwritten notes first, then started shoving the books and papers back under the bed. “Schoolwork,” Minseok answered shortly, seeming agitated – or more likely nervous.
“Hyung,” Minho had seen enough, and he knew it wasn’t schoolwork, not really. “Are you still working on that stuff? Researching law stuff?” He slightly frowned at the idea of it.
“You know me, I like to study even when I don’t have to.”
Minho snorted. That part wasn’t a lie at all. It’s what made his older brother the golden child, of sorts, to the Choi family, and had left Minho envious and a little jealous growing up before he lost the drive to even care about such useless things anymore. Choi Minseok can carry on the family name. Maybe he can even fix what Minho has already soiled.
Minho obviously wasn’t doing the job.
“It’s nothing, Minho. Don’t worry about it.” Minseok ruffled Minho’s hair before standing again and siting on his bed since the younger was finally off it. Minho could read Minseok as well as he could read Minho. He was anxious about this, for whatever reason. His brother wanted it dropped.
Minho sat up straight and crossed his legs over the floor, big eyes staring up at his brother. “Hyung, you don’t need to do stuff like that. It won’t matter in the end. Don’t waste your time..” he added quietly, “Not on people like me.”
“It’s always worth it,” Minseok spoke up, not sounding as agitated. “Knowledge is worth more than some think.” Minseok tapped at Minho’s leg with his foot, grinning in a slight tease, though his words were serious. “I know you are aware of that.”
Minho scratched his head, the one feeling anxious now for some reason. “Ah.. hm.” He nodded. Sounded like his brother still had faith in him and part of Minho didn’t like that. It should be gone by now, all dried up.
“Don’t worry about me,” Minseok said, “I’m more con-”
“Then,” Minho cut in, “Don’t worry about me either.” He looked up, narrowed eyes serious.
Minseok quickly lightened the suddenly tense mood with standing from the bed to drag and manhandle Minho to his feet with him, as often done between the two growing up. “Big-eyes,” Minseok teased with the old nickname while keeping Minho in a bear hug, “Why don’t you stop snooping and mopping and come with me, let’s go out.”
“Hyung, hyuuung.” Minho wiggled and whined, voice soon falling in laughter. He gave in, “Fine. You need to get away from the books, nerd.”
The grip around Minho tightened and Minseok started walking Minho backwards while he stepped forward, leaving the bedroom with Minho still in his arms. “Maybe if my eyes were as big as yours I could read twice as fast.”
Minho dropped his face into Minseok’s shoulder, laughing harder.
Why his big brother would do such boring and time consuming research on what Minho thinks is a useless waste, Minho couldn’t understand. Maybe someday he would though.
He would like to.
He couldn’t right now though.
What’s the point?
“Minho-yah,” Minseok wrapped an arm over Minho’s shoulders once they were outside and walking on their way to the close, small town instead of opting to drive further away for bigger experiences. “Remember what I told you if dad makes you feel bad, okay? You know, when they fight still, just.. remember okay?”
Minho nodded and leaned into Minseok a bit, arm reaching to wrap around his brother’s back. Minho tried to remember. He forgot sometimes though. He wanted to make dad proud, but then also wanted to slink away from the man in a way he hadn’t since being s small child in trouble.
“They don’t mean it, and you know I’ll stick by you, and just-” Minseok was cut off with a yelp as his freckled cheek was pinched and pulled hard by Minho’s other hand.
“Hyung~.”
“You’re such a mood killer, brat. What is this, to your own brother..” Minseok mocked his hurt while rubbing at his face.
Minho knew it was uncomfortable for Minseok – both of them really, when it got emotionally deep like this. Someone had to cut the mood, it just happen to be Minho this time. “Are all your friends girls now or something?” Minho grinned.
“You’re not funny, Minho. You know, right? Your jokes are awful.” Minseok wasn’t smiling.
“Jinki-hyung laughs.” Or at least some times, though Minho left that part out, “He thinks I’m funny.”
Minseok gave Minho a look, a pity look as if to say Jinki is a friend and that’s the only reason he gets a laugh.
“My new goal is to become a comedian,” Minho grinned wider. “Like, a comedian-soccer player rolled into one.”
“Please don’t make me cry..”
Lip bitten, Minho softly punched at Minseok’s side for the ruthless teasing, then dropped the subject while the streets they walked began crowding as they drew closer to small shops. Minho tensed up, but Minseok’s arm stayed around Minho, keeping him in a blanket of security.
Minho was out around people again and anxious, but it was for his brother. He wanted to look well around him. He wanted to so badly. No one should worry about him anymore. He had taken up enough of everyone’s time.
That was only later confirmed after the two stopped for quick side-meal before dinner at home, leaving Minseok grumbling he had enough and uncharacteristically lashed out at some older outspoken towns’ people whispering gossip around the outdoor bbq they ate at. Whispers of the sick Choi brother were heard, though luckily for Minho’s sake, it only stayed at a level of him just being mentally unbalanced with his teenage years. Still only few knew what had really happened.
It didn’t seem to dishonor the family name any less though.
Minho tried to ignore it while pocking at his food, and the longer it went on, the smaller he felt; slinking back in his seat and getting quiet in his conversation with his brother.
One man had jumped up, willing to make the fight physical. Minseok pushed Minho out through the tarp, before following soon after. He grabbed Minho’s shoulder, speaking in a voice that still showed his nerves as they walked away. “Let’s go. Forget about them. They’re always going on about gossip around here.”
“Yeah,” Minho’s voice picked up. “Remember when it was the Kim family?” He smiled. It disarmed Minseok enough to laugh at the memory.
“I shouldn’t laugh at that poor family.. Sunghee was a nice.. pregnant.. woman.” Minseok blinked, knowing that came out not how he had expected.
“You had liked her, then her boyfriend knocked her up and they left.” Minho nudged Minseok, smiling wider with his teasing, though spoke of true facts.
“Shh, let’s not remember that. How about we don’t give them more to gossip about.” Minseok sighed tiredly while gently tugging Minho closer, obviously worn out. “They don’t even know what they’re talking about anymore around here…”
Minho dropped it.
Once home, after a tense family dinner and now by himself in privacy again, Minho threw up his meal in the bathroom and sat on the floor, willing himself not to grab something sharp and slash skin. That horribly numb feeling was growing again. He was getting desperate for something. One step forward, two steps back. He honestly wasn’t sure if the first year or the second year was harder. You would think it only got easier. You would hope at least. The smile he had worn the last week faded with just a little gossip from drunks. Drunks were awful. Drunks.. Minho clutched his head, frustrated he had ever drank that night and brought such horror to his own family name.
Minho managed to make it out of the bathroom sometime later without breaking any skin – keeping that old promise to his brother again, for now. He crawled into Minseok’s bed instead of his own, gently pulling those thick law books from his sleeping brother’s loose grip then tucking them both in.
Maybe someday he would understand why his brother bothered, but it still wasn’t this day.
Minho fell asleep debating asking to go away for spring vacation this year. That’s just running away though, isn’t it. Minho’s grown very good at running now though, even beating his own record.
No. Those are two different types of running.
Either way, he’s grown good at both.
While he slept, Minho was unaware of the times Minseok would wake in the night beside him and have to push Minho’s sleeves up or pull down on the collar of his top to squint in the dark and gently run fingers over skin, hoping to find no fresh marks just so he could sleep again. This night, Minseok could because Minho managed to keep a promise even as weak as he felt. It was a sign of the strong boy he used to be still hidden and buried away by all the trauma.
School and towns’ people haunted Minho’s dreams the whole night, leaving him numb to Minseok’s soft touches in the night. They pointed and laughed, speaking loud and mockingly of the whole truth about him. A disgusting truth. Anxiety lingered from the dreams, leaving Minho late to class the next morning due to the fact that he keep circling the school grounds, unable to step foot in without feeling like he was suddenly back into nightmares. Irrational thoughts attacked him while he paced with overwhelming anxiety. Death seemed like a good option and was thrown on the table again, a merciful suicide. No, that couldn’t be an option. Maybe he forgot to take his medication, maybe just people around him have dug that deep under his skin again. Maybe..
He gripped his backpack straps tightly over his shoulders, head lowed and feet keeping him on the move.
He was good at running away.
Painfully heavy footsteps took Minho back onto the school grounds finally.
During usual punishment for being late to class, Minho found a smile somehow. He thought of Jinki’s laughter and silly voices, and that was enough to calm most of his anxiety. He needed to see his friend again. Visit and see that smile for himself again. Maybe after school.
Once quiet holidays began and spring vacation rolled by, Minho decided by himself with the time off he would visit Auntie and Uncle in the countryside again, to get away from everything. And there, Minho stayed as long as he could before another year of school began for him. While there he could forget about the town and responsibilities. Much like the summer before when he chose to go for himself, that time though, he couldn’t stay the while vacation.
There, in fresh and cold weather, Minho could run with the local village dogs and wave cheerfully at the village people who knew little about him. He could smile and laugh while kicking a soccer ball around with local kids down dirt streets. Minho could even offer a helping hand to the elderly and feel accomplished with himself for it.
It was a break from life he needed.
Minho tossed a soccer ball in his hands one particular afternoon, only days into his vacation time, when an old woman waved for his attention, hand urging him into her tiny open courtyard. He bowed and politely hurried over. Minho laughed behind the soccer ball as the woman complained about dusting rugs and mats all by herself.
“I need strong muscles,” the lady said while poking at Minho’s jacketed arm, boosting the teenager’s ego a little. She stretched her sore back as she held out the tools for Minho to take. He smiled and took the job without complaint. She asked about his family line as he worked and Minho spoke quietly to her with a small smile, somehow beaming with pride for the Choi family here and home instead of being weighed down by the shame he brought to the name, as he viewed it.
Once Minho finished, the elderly woman asked for help with laundry, using the teenager for all he was worth. Minho earned a tasty warm snack in return for all the work he did, and even better than that, confidence in himself again as he sat tall and with his chin up. Minho found he still enjoyed helping people.
“Ahjussi ahjussi..” a young boy spoke loudly to Minho as he quietly ate on the woman’s porch. He blinked wide eyes at a kid that was much less familiar to him running into the old woman’s courtyard like he owned the place.
The boy, no more than six-years-old, smiled with obvious excitement. “Look what I learned to do.”
Minho really had no choice in the matter either way, because the kid was soon climbing up the porch then trying to jump off with a mid-air kick. It probably would have looked fairly cool if the kid had pulled it off. Instead he fell to his knees and hands in the hard dirt, hissing in defeat. Hands held high as the boy stood again, Minho noticed the small gash on the dirty skin.
Minho dropped from the porch, food forgotten. “Are you okay?”
The boy looked up with watery eyes but he didn’t cry out. Minho hurriedly grabbed a damp cloth from the work area he had washed and hung wet clothes. He dabbed the blood away to find not much of a cut beneath all the dirt. It was a relief.
“Ahjussi-”
“Hyung,” Minho corrected. “Do I look like an ahjussi?”
The boy shook his head. Minho smiled, stern attitude gone as well as a childish pout of his own. Once the kid’s eyes fell on the soccer ball left abandoned in the dirt near the home, he brightened again.
“You play?” he asked with the excite only a child could muster.
Minho hesitated. He had no reason to though. It’s a fact that he plays. The fear shouldn’t be there. “You want to play? He asked, brows raising.
The boy nodded while pulling away from Minho’s loose hold, running for the ball. The kid showed he was less coordinated at the game than Minho remembered being at the same age, but that didn’t stop Minho from finding himself in the small child – memories of chasing his brother and father on an open field to catch a ball with short chubby legs.
So that’s what soccer used to be like for him. Freedom. It was a reminder he was in need off.
“What’s your name?” Minho finally asked, foot stopping the ball kicked back towards him.
“Woonha!” the boy shouted, as if he couldn’t be heard without a loud voice. He laughed and urged for the ball again, arms flailing about. Minho sent one of his better plays only to watch Woonha chase after the ball he missed, it shooting right passed his little body. Minho watched gleefully at short legs hurry after a runway ball. The buried memories it brought back were more than encouraging.
“Woonha-yah!” Minho rooted for the boy, sure he would catch the ball before it disappeared down a hill or into crops or something.
In the end Woonha didn’t, leaving the two searching for the ball in the fields beside the old woman’s home. Minho couldn’t even me bad. Children were still the easiest people to be around anymore. He remembered himself again around them.
He smiled so much that day it hurt and made him feel out of practice for it.
Only a day or two later were Minho and Woonha taking on other village kids, making a good team together. The young boy caught on to the techniques Minho had tried to teach quicker than he looked to have.
After another evening of practice Minho carried Woonha on is back, returning the kid home before dark on his last day of vacation. The dog nicknamed ‘Haengbogi’ by Minho – the first friend he really made in the countryside when he still couldn’t make connections with humans, followed behind them, tail wagging happily.
“Hyung, I’m gonna grow up and be a famous soccer player. I will I will I will.”
Minho smiled and bit back a laugh. He began running in the cool wind, grip tight on Woonha with the large, dirty dog barking and quickly chasing after the humans. Minho really had no doubt in the small boy that reminded him of himself.
The short vacation was the best he’d had in some time. Minho came home, chin up and steps into a new year of high school (the last and possibly most important) lighter than he had expected. And when a soccer teammate offered to set up a date with a sweet girl he knew, though nervous, Minho accepted and went into it with more courage than usual.
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