Leeteuk gasped. “What?”

 

“I’m sorry hyung. We should’ve, no, would’ve, told you this earlier but you were still recovering and no one wanted to hurt you emotionally.” Sungmin whimpered. Leeteuk’s eyes were on his, but somehow looked like they were emerged in other thoughts. “And as time passed, and you were recovering fast and good, no one thought it was necessary digging up the past and let it remain what it was. A secret.” Sungmin continued, wincing, as if it pained him physically to be the one to disclose the said secret.

Leeteuk’s grip around Sungmin’s collar slacked until his hands dropped limply to either of his side. “Hyung…” Sungmin mumbled upon seeing Leeteuk’s empty stare. Leeteuk didn’t pay mind to him, as his legs lifelessly made his way across the room. “Hyung…” Sungmin whined in an attempt to stop him. But he did not. “Hyung!” Sungmin called out after him in panic, fearing that Leeteuk might have gone into shock, which could have been partly true. Leeteuk stopped dead on his tracks. There was an unnerving silence in the room, suspending heavily in the air around them, before Leeteuk finally spoke. “I…I need some time… alone.” He wheezed as though it was hard to even breathe, and then continued dragging his feet, slowly inching his way towards his room.

 

“O-Okay…” Sungmin muttered as Leeteuk shut the door to his room. He brought his hand to his face, almost smacking himself, and sighed tersely. He muttered low curses to himself for sending, no, almost hurling Leeteuk back into trauma again. Sweeping his hand across his face once, he dropped them by his side again. He longingly gazed at the door to Leeteuk’s room, lower lip sticking out slightly, and sincerely hoped that Leeteuk would make it through. Like all the other times he had.

 

~~~~~

 

Kyuhyun recognized the room almost instantly as he stepped inside. He had been here before. He could never forget those murky walls and the damp foul smell emanating from it. His nose scrunched up instinctively as he looked around the familiar dark features of the room. Han Aeyoung, read the name over a book that lay atop the desk. “Han. Aeyoung.” Kyuhyun whispered, smiling to himself. He now knew for sure, a bit contemptuous, that this was her room after all. Aeyoung’s room. He felt goose bumps rising on his arms.

 

His trail of thoughts was cut sharply as he heard the girl slumping on the bed with a tired, almost thankful, sigh. Kyuhyun’s lips pressed together in a line. He lowered himself beside her, deliberately seating himself close to her so that their arms were brushing. Not that it did any harm, he thought. They sat in silence, staring blankly towards the floor before Kyuhyun’s head snapped up. He gazed at her incredulously. Kyuhyun could almost feel her emotions. He could feel the hurt, the anger and the fear emitting from her, pressing at the layers of his skin, seeping through, till he felt them too. It baffled him. He blinked twice before his gaze softened, eyes melting as he met hers.

 

For a second he played along with it, sadly pretending that she was indeed looking at him. But he couldn’t fool his heart, which ached, ruthlessly reminding him that she could not see him. She was longingly staring at the window, which was slightly ajar, spraying tiny droplets around with the rain pouring outside. Nevertheless, he kept his pose, eyes locked with hers, looking deep into her soul and almost tearing his own in the process. There was so much emotion in them it hurt him to even look at them. And he could feel them as if it were his own. Right at that moment he was one with her, in tune with her emotions, their souls uniting.

Smiling sadly, he placed a feeble hand on her thigh, realizing that he was more so consoling himself than her. He was happy to at least be able to share her feelings.

 

~~~~~

 

Leeteuk stumbled his way into the bathroom, holding himself up by his arms on the corners of the sink. He looked up to look at the mirror and, again, the eyes he saw looking at him weren’t his. They couldn’t be. For those eyes were sad, looking at Leeteuk piteously, while Leeteuk was confused. Plain confused. He groaned and splashed his face with cold water, almost too furiously, and looked up again to meet the same eyes. He frowned. He bent down again and splashed some more but again he was greeted by those same pitiful eyes. Leeteuk gave up, too tired to think. His brain had stopped functioning long back. He settled with the thought that he probably looked like that – pathetic and all.

 

He staggered back to his room and collapsed on his bed, just when his legs faltered, not being able to keep him up anymore. He rolled over so that he was facing the ceiling, hands grappling at the sheets and breaths coming out in short spurts. His brain was in a tizzy and inside him emotions were going haywire. But there was one prominent feeling floating above the rest, nipping callously at his heart.

 

Guilt.

He felt tears b in his eyes, blurring his visions, and he sobbed, letting out a pitiful whimper. And before he knew it he was bawling, muffling his cries into the sheets. He stuffed his face with his fist, biting on his knuckles to keep himself from crying out loud. There was an excruciating pain inside his chest, throbbing uncomfortably against his ribs, making its way towards his throat, wrenching and constricting it. He gulped, hoping it would subside, but failed.

 

He couldn’t comprehend what he should be feeling right now. Angry, because his teammates, his brothers, kept from him such an enormous issue? Stupid, because he was ignorant of this for so long? Or sick, because the nightmare that had been haunting him for the past few days was in reality cent percent true?

 

~~~~~

 

Aeyoung shifted uncomfortably in her seat and slammed the pencil down on the desk in frustration. For the past couple of hours she had been trying hard to concentrate on her assignment but the noises coming from the room beside hers made it utterly impossible to do so. She let out a short, upset sigh before making her way to her brother’s room.

Briskly, she knocked on the closed door and awaited an answer, which she knew she wasn’t getting anytime soon. She almost cringed at the moans and cries coming from the inside and briefly hesitated before she rapped the door again. This time, she heard a high pitched whine and her brother answered. “What the is it?” he snapped and she could picture him scowling. “Would you please quiet down a bit? I’m trying to-” she was cut short by a loud bang on the door, which, she presumed, was her brother throwing an inanimate object at the door in refusal to her unheard request. She flinched on impulse and closed her eyes as she let out another short, upset sigh. “Thank. You.” She muttered under her breath and wordlessly walked back to her room, closing the door behind her.

 

This had been an everyday ritual, for as long as her memories could go back. Her brother bringing nameless females into their house, new ones each night, ing them till the next morning and then the process repeated that night all over again. She thought she should’ve gotten used to them by these years but she found it extremely difficult to do so when she could hear those absurd noises coming from right outside her door.

She sighed and placed her palms against her ears as she rested her elbows on the edge of the desk, hoping she could null out the sounds. But it didn’t help. It never did. There was no way she could even think in such an atmosphere, and studying was out of the question. She closed her books, aligning them in an orderly fashion and strode towards the window.

 

She moved the curtains aside and leaned against the pane, arms crossed over her chest. It had been raining since the afternoon. Her superior was kind enough to give her a day off, saying that she worked too hard and needed some time to herself. Little did she know about the actual reason behind Aeyoung’s meticulous work habits. But she was nice anyways, someone Aeyoung could rely on when things got hard at home. A very nice lady.

A soft piteous sigh escaped Aeyoung’s lips. Every day, for the past few years, since her mother’s eventful death, Aeyoung had been working dedicatedly in hopes of escaping her personal life - the life that involved her sick brother and her drunk father. She engaged herself in so much work such that the time after work could be drowned. Such that by the time she got home she could care less about the house reeking heavily of alcohol or the deep grunts and groans of emitting from her brother’s room. Such that she could not afford to think about how life could’ve been different if her mother were alive or if she were born in a different household. Such that she was too tired to cry about losing the one she truly loved, the only one who valued her inside and out.

Every night, still, she dreaded coming home to her father, drunk till the tip of his crown. Drunk and dangerous. At nights when she was lucky, she’d come home to find him passed out on the couch, limbs dangling lifelessly and face contorted into a bizarre expression, and she would tiptoe her way to her room, heaving a sigh of relief. The other nights, though, were what she could give anything to avoid. These nights he’d get upset on almost anything and everything and she had to be extra careful around him, for if she upset him somehow she’d have to face ugly consequences. She had been beaten, whipped, cut and even smoldered.

 

She didn’t quite know how or when this started. Her father was devoid of any emotions after her mother passed away, almost too ignorant, and it wasn’t until he had started his routine drinking that the beating started. He’d welt her every night, night after night, and all Aeyoung could do was comply or face the consequences. Then the beatings advanced into flogging, persistent and painful. But then she got used to that too. Then came the knife; up her thighs or down her neck. He loved the crimson flowing down her slender, smooth skin, eyes trailing down all the way. Nights then onwards she’d be dizzy, the metallic smell filling her nostrils and she’d stay in bed, writhing in pain, until her vision cleared. She could tell he loved this game. He anticipated it. Cutting her up gave his inner devil some unknown satisfaction. She had seen what this devil was capable of, so she never stopped him, fearing the worst.

 

And then one night he played another game - A game of fire. She screamed when she saw the fire tongs, already knowing what his motives were when she saw them red hot. And screamed even louder when he pressed the blistering metal to the sensitive skin of her arm. But he still wouldn’t let go. She struggled against his iron grip, trying hard to break free. She wept, begging him to stop, which only instigated him. The nuisance in his eyes, when he looked down at her, scared her even more and she yanked her hand out of his grasp, tumbling backwards with the force. She was too shaken to make her way back in time and shriveled up against the wall, tiny and trembling. But to her relief, he made no further move. He looked at her in a content way, as if scorching her was his only motive and he was now done. He left the room, forceps still in hand, leaving her to cry for the remainder of the night.

 

Sure she had gone through some horrifying things in the past. These were the things that she feared till date.

 

But lately, that’s not what she was afraid of coming home to.

 

Lately, she’d come home to find her father drunk as usual, but with a more sinister aura. The way he’d look at her would send cold ripples down her back and it got her heart beating fearfully, almost tearing through her chest. His eyes glazed, the result of one too many drinks, and portraying something bordering sheer menace and chaos. There had been times when he’d feel her, hands nonchalantly gliding over a section of her body in an almost lustful way, and then there would be a certain glint in his eyes; too keen, too ominous.

 

At times like these, she tried her best to keep her poise, fighting back the fear of his next move. Because she knew he enjoyed it, enjoyed watching her squirm under the pressure, lapped up the fear that radiated from her like a blood thirsty predator. Therefore she tried her best not to give him the satisfaction, keeping her cool and acting like she didn’t care. Acting like his touches were just a display of fatherly love. Like they were normal.

 

But it got harder every night. The desire in his eyes were evidently growing, and although by now Aeyoung had mastered techniques of escaping from his grasp, there was only a certain limit to which they could be used. And what would she do the night she’d find her father drunk, and lusting for her body, and she’d have run out of escape routes?

 

She shivered, partly at the terrifying thought and partly at the rain and wind gushing in through the window.

 

She decided that she had to devise new excuses. Because she was already running out of ideas.

 

~~~~~

 

Leeteuk hadn’t come out of his room for hours, not even for dinner, and though Kyuhyun was thankful that he didn’t have to face him after the incident at breakfast, it had him worrying too. He was sitting across Sungmin and something about the way he was acting got him curious and he eyed him suspiciously, to which Sungmin reacted with a nervous wiggle. He kept his dubious eyes on him as he watched Sungmin break out in cold sweat.

“Where’s Leeteuk?” asked Siwon, as he materialized out of thin air and seated himself beside Kyuhyun. Sungmin squeaked in surprise, all eyes landing on him, then swiftly regained his composure and muttered a tiny room.

Kyuhyun watched him with observant eyes.

 

“Isn’t he going to have dinner? He didn’t even come out for lunch.” said Ryeowook, a dish in hand, his voice tiny and unhappy. To this Sungmin didn’t reply and no one asked him any further questions.

 

Kyuhyun watched, eyes amused, the way Sungmin kept stealing quick glances around the table, looking if anybody was paying any attention to him or the missing Leeteuk, then digging back into his bowl of rice. He also noticed the way Sungmin’s hands were trembling every time he reached out to pick a pickled radish out of the side dish. No words were needed to figure out that Sungmin was definitely hiding something. Something that involved Leeteuk. Obviously.

 

Kyuhyun’s brain was ticking and his breath was pacing. He smirked secretly. He was going to find out what.

                                 

~~~~~

 

Leeteuk lingered inside his room for most of the day. Even though his crying had subsided, he was still both mentally and physically drained. He had no appetite whatsoever, and certainly no will to face any of the others today. He just wanted some time by himself, to be left alone in his thoughts.

 

If there were any ways he could purge himself, he’d have surely done so, because right at that moment he felt filthy, like he had sinned. He wasn’t entirely sure if this event was his fault but he knew he was a part of it nevertheless, and that was enough for a guilt trip to hell. Sungmin’s words reeled through his brain subconsciously, like a broken record. Now he knew why Sungmin and the others had hid it from him, but that didn’t entirely convince Leeteuk why they couldn’t have told him sooner. They must’ve hid this from Kyuhyun too, he thought.

 

He wondered how he’d never heard of this little secret before. Sure there would’ve been news about this and Leeteuk would have surely found out. Then he felt sick all over again. The whole world probably knew about it, everyone except him. He was a sinner, a monster, and everyone must be watching him with smiling eyes but hateful minds. His stomach lurched to his throat and he was sobbing again.

 

Weeping, he drifted into asleep, hands clasped together, as if he were praying for forgiveness.
 

~~~~~

 

It was late at night and Kyuhyun should’ve already been in bed but he noticed that all the other members were strangely missing from their rooms and curiosity got the better of him. He shamelessly pressed an ear to the front door of Sungmin’s apartment; an empty glass tumbler in hand if the need arise. He heard a lot of whispers and then a series of gasps.

 

“You said WHAT?” someone shrieked, which Kyuhyun assumed was Donghae.

“I’m sorry.” He heard Sungmin’s faint voice.

 

“Well that doesn’t change anything now, does it? You let the cat out of the bag!” said Donghae.

 

“And sorry doesn’t bring back the cat!” it was Eunhyuk, and everybody was silent after that. Kyuhyun rolled his eyes.

 

“Well I’M SORRY anyways! He had me pinned against the wall and won’t let me budge until he had heard what he was looking for! What else could I have done?” Sungmin raised his voice, clearly agitated for being accused for revealing something that Kyuhyun wasn’t quite sure about yet.

 

“Well, you could’ve…could’ve…OH I DON’T KNOW! Could’ve tried stalling for a bit longer!” Donghae said, and Kyuhyun imagined his brows pressed together.

 

“Well I DID try! I tried acting like I didn’t know who or what he was talking about!” Sungmin whined, probably even stomping his feet like a toddler.

 

“And that worked quite well, I believe.” Heechul’s voice was calm but taunting. Ouch! Kyuhyun winced, imagining Sungmin’s hurt expression. He felt bad for him but Heechul was right. Sungmin was horrible at pretending and even more horrible when put under pressure.

 

“Well he’s right,” it was Siwon who came to Sungmin’s rescue, “If Leeteuk already knew her name then that must mean something, right? Lying would’ve made it worse.” Sungmin whimpered a thanks. “And besides, it’s better now that he knows. We should’ve told him about this much this much earlier, even before Kyuhyun was released.”

 

~~~~~

 

That night Leeteuk had an entirely different dream, much to his relief. He had been sick of dreaming about the crash he kept seeing almost every other night. It had always nauseated him, grinding his guts in the most uncomfortable way. And now it nauseated him for more reasons.

 

This dream, however, was more calm, edging on something serene and beautiful. And that wasn’t how he would describe the dream itself, but something he “felt” while he was dreaming. Strangely enough, this dream relaxed him, letting loose his senses, taking him on a whole new emotional level. It was nothing like what he had ever felt before. Not even outside this dream.

 

But unlike the other dream that had been haunting him for the past several nights, in this dream he wasn’t on the periphery, watching the events occur. He was “in” it, living every moment of it as if it were actually happening.

He coiled his hand around her frail one, entwining their fingers together, delicately, as if fearing they could snap any moment. He let out a slow comforted sigh when she pressed her head to his side and he s his arm around her small shoulders, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. They sat in comfortable silence, watching the distant branches of trees dancing eloquently with the soft wind. No words were exchanged. They weren’t needed to. He listened intently to the soft humming of her breath, closing his eyes, absorbing every little moment. Oddly, his mind knew that he was dreaming but his heart said otherwise. He could hear and feel like he normally would, though what he felt at the moment was nothing close to anything he had ever felt before.
 

A content sigh left his lips. Holding her this way he felt something bubbling up inside him. He felt like his world was complete once again, the numbness from before slowly evading. He didn’t have anywhere he’d rather be or anything he’d rather do at the moment. He hugged her closer, a sudden gush of emotions trembling his heart. It had been so long…

“Aeyoung ah…” he whispered, running his fingertips through her hair, flipping few strands of interfering curls. She looked up at him, eyes crinkling up into the ghost of a smile. He gazed into her beautiful eyes, smiling slightly, warily, before pressing his lip to hers. He closed his eyes and wished the moment could last an eternity.

Leeteuk opened his eyes, regretting the second he did so, finding himself in his room, on his bed. He was dreaming after all. He swung his legs to the side, sitting up, hissing, as if the action hurt. He wiped his face with the back of his hand realizing further that he had been crying in his dream as well, a dream that felt so real. For the next few minutes or so he sat, hands gripping his head, tugging at his hair almost frantically, mulling over whether it was truly a dream. But it felt so real, he kept repeating in his mind. He let out a frustrated groan, his heart aching, the pain jolting through his chest till it hurt physically.

He grasped his hair, letting out a low sigh of despair. It was nothing more than a dream; he dejectedly quoted in his mind, as if to console himself. He got up, dragging his feet towards the bathroom. He felt he needed a hot shower. A long one.

 

He stepped out of his clothes and into the shower. He let the warm water run over him, in hopes it would wash away his misery as well. He gladly soaked up the warmth, letting the water trickle down his nose as he dropped his head. He felt those tense muscles loosening and a sense of ease slowly washed over him. After a few more soothing minutes he carefully stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, while with another, he dried his dripping hair, and made his way towards the mirror.
 

He wiped his palm over the fogged glass and jumped at the sight of his reflection. A fraction of a second before his feet gave way, he caught a familiar face, with a more familiar looking pair of eyes, looking at him through the mirror, the place where ‘his’ reflection should have been.

 

Leeteuk fell back, taking the drapes with him, as he collapsed into the bathtub. He gaped at the mirror, lips partly ajar and legs dangling off the edges of the tub at an awkward angle. After taking a few moments of break for his brain to function properly he struggled to get back on his feet. And upon doing so he took a few more seconds for his brain to process what he had seen. He wearily stepped closer to the mirror, almost ready for a man to sift out of it. But there was nothing. He blinked a few times, waiting for something, anything, to jump out. A couple of minutes passed and still nothing happened. Leeteuk straightened up, gazing intently into the eyes of his reflection.

 

He sighed, almost crushed, wondering if he had been dreaming about this as well. He dropped his head, humming dejectedly, and when he looked up again he was met with those all-familiar eyes once more.

 

~~~~~
 

Kyuhyun backed away from the door momentarily, eyes wide. They were hiding something from him too? He pressed back to the door, intent on finding out more.

 

“Now what do we do?” Sungmin whispered, but clear enough for Kyuhyun to hear.

 

“We leave it at this.” A new determined voice. Kangin.

 

“We don’t tell Kyuhyun?” Eunhyuk asked in a puzzle.

 

“He doesn’t have to know. He’s still recovering.” Ryeowook’s voice was pleading and full of concern.

 

There was a moment of silence and Kyuhyun could feel the anxiety bubbling up his chest.

 

“We don’t tell Kyuhyun.” Siwon spoke. Kyuhyun’s heart dropped at how resolved his voice sounded. He might never get another chance to find out what they were hiding from him.

 

“The news that their accident killed another individual might be too much to bear for him at this point.”

 

Their conversation and Kyuhyun’s heart both stopped simultaneously.

 

~~~~~

 

Leeteuk tightened his grip around Sungmin’s collar and Sungmin’s face paled. “Who. Is. Aeyoung?” He emphasized every word to make them clear. He had had a bad last few days. He was tired, he was sick. He didn’t want to hurt Sungmin. He just wanted answers.

 

Sungmin gulped. “I’m sorry we hid this from you, hyung!”

 

“Hid what?” Leeteuk hissed.
 

Sungmin gulped.

 

“Hid WHAT, Sungmin?” Leeteuk was growling by now, his grip thinning onto his neck, and Sungmin trembled under his glare.

“The night when you had the accident,” Sungmin wheezed, “the van had crashed taking down two people with it.”

Leeteuk briefly loosened his grip, Sungmin’s words hitting him like a punch to the face. But he regained his posture as quickly as it had left. He didn’t understand what Aeyoung had anything to do with this. “And?” he pressed.

 

“A-And one of them, Han Aeyoung, had survived, though severely injured, while,” Sungmin made a pitiful noise before shrinking further into the wall, “w-while the other one, Park Daehyun, d-d-died.” He stuttered.

 

Leeteuk gasped. “What?”