Chapter One
Haneul: Appa Wasn't Here. (When You Weren't Here)
Jung Haneul plays with his friends on the floor, drawing with the scratchy crayons of the care home, accompanied by his friends from the care home too. His innocent laughter rings through the air, causing his dad to smile from the bench he sits on, shaded by a large nearby tree.
The sunlight reaches through the gaps in the trees leaves, lighting the shade with gentle fragments of yellow late-afternoon light. The water in the pond ripples in the soft breeze, shimmering in the brilliance of the dusk sun. A soft hue of bronze coats everything in view in the garden of the care home.
"I'm sorry. But it happened at the best time - children tend not to worry about things like this."
He couldn't believe it when they'd first told him. He'd thought the doctors were playing some sick joke. This happens to other people's kids. Not his.
Jung Daehyun sighs, burying his head in his hands. The stress is too much for one person, and then balancing being an idol on top of that is torturous.
Though, what the doctor said is true; his seven year old son doesn't really seem to notice that anything is wrong. He isn't worrying, and that's because his father is doing all the worrying for him.
"Though it may seem like a dead end, there are plenty of things that we can do to keep him here for longer, and possibly cure him. We just need to find a bone marrow match, and he'll be getting better again."
"Ow!" A yelp from his son grabs his attention.
Daehyun's head snaps up from his hands upon hearing it, eyes wide and brows furrowed, prepared to take him away from the other kids if they're being too rough. But little Haneul's laughter tinkles through the air again, calming his father once more.
Daehyun gathers from their excited little conversation that Sang-Hee, his son's best friend, had accidentally poked him with a crayon. The young pair giggle a little together before going back to their drawings, chatting avidly amongst each other and their other friends.
Daehyun smiles sadly to himself, his eyes holding a faraway look. He knows that crayon will leave a bruise tomorrow; large, purple and blue. Even a butterfly on his skin could cause a bruise, delicate because of his condition. How Daehyun wishes he could just bundle Haneul in bubble wrap and run away from this - he doesn't want leukemia to have hold of his son. He's all he has.
"Simply put, his body is producing immature red blood cells and using them before they can be fully mature, like they're supposed to. They can't function properly if they're not fully mature, and at this rate, the amount of immature blood cells will outnumber those of the mature, and his blood won't be sustainable to use."
This is why he's bruising too easily and when he bleeds, he bleeds more than he should. He becomes tired and light-headed often, sometimes passing out with the fatigue. Random nosebleeds, random high temperatures and suddenly becoming stick thin with the loss of his appetite were just a few of the things he was going through.
Though, like the doctors had predicted, he doesn't seem to worry about it at all, which soothes Daehyun. If his son lost his bright personality to this as well, he doesn't know what would become of either of them. It’s better that he just knows he's a bit poorly.
It's his son that's keeping him going. It's his son that is his world.
His phone buzzes in his pocket, tearing his gaze from his son as he pulls it out of his pocket and checks the ID. Not again.
With distaste, he answers the phone call from his manager. "Yes?"
"Daehyun, the big cheese wants you to go and see him in his office." His manager's voice is stern, like it always seems to be, ever since the big cheese (the common nickname for the chairman of the entertainment label he's signed under) began nagging him.
Daehyun sighs in exasperation, "Tell him I'm on the other side of Seoul. I can't come now - I'm with my son."
His manager softens, a gentle sigh audible down the phone. "...I understand, Daehyun. Really, I do. But this has to stop - you can't keep brushing him off like that. He can just take you to court if you go against your contract."
Daehyun's voice sharpens at the mention of the contract. Not this again!
"Listen to me, I've already told you! I explained the situation to him, and he said that I can take some time off until my son either gets better, or worse. I promised Haneul that I'd be with him! I can't go back on that. I promised him." He keeps his volume and anger low for the sake of Haneul, who doesn't need to know what's going on in his appa's hectic life.
His manager sighs, giving in to the idol's firm voice again. He knows there's no point for him to argue. "Okay, I'll speak to him for you. But please, come back to work soon. Your band mates miss you." And with that, he hangs up.
Daehyun hasn't been with BAP very much for these past few months, and he hasn't stepped foot inside the studio at all. He's lost some of his fans to impatience, but he doesn't care about them compared to his son. Jung Haneul is his priority.
He runs a hand through his hair in desperation - there's no way out of this mess! He'll just have to grin and bear it on his own until Haneul gets better, and then he can start fixing things up. If only she was still here, this wouldn't be quite so hard. We could get through this.
His fingers find their way to the ring on his left ring finger. It's simple with no particular design, just one line all the way round it, engraved into the white gold. He looks down at it lovingly, caressing it with his thumb, wishing she could be with them now. Wishing she were still here.
"Appa!" Haneul calls, pulling his attention to him as he clambers forward with some coloured paper in his hand, waving it around. His grin is huge and eyes are wide, singing out his innocence and radiance.
He's recently turned seven years old, with warm doe-eyes that are double-lidded, chocolatey and sweet. He has a cute button nose and full lips, dark hair that shines in the sun. He's only half Korean, as his mother was from London, in England. His cheeks are round with puppy chub though blemished with a small bruise from when he'd managed to hit himself with a spoon at some point.
He's clumsy by nature and a little happy virus, keeping Daehyun on his toes with his funny antics and habits. He knows no sadness.
Daehyun beams at his pride and joy, opening his arms wide for young Haneul to run into. As soon as the child has his arms around his appa, Daehyun picks him up and sets him onto his lap, holding him closely. He presses a tender kiss to his forehead and asks, "What's up, Squishy?” before wiping his runny nose with a tissue from his pocket.
Haneul giggles at his nickname and squirms in his grip, getting comfortable. "Don't call me that in front of Sang-Hee!" Haneul whispers to him, waving a 'no-no' finger in Daehyun's face, who chortles at his expression.
"Why not? Do you lurve her?" Daehyun teases, raising an eyebrow at his son, a playful smile carved into his lips as he watches his face turn pink.
Haneul shakes his head and yells at him, "No! Appa, you're weird, she's my best friend! I can't lurve her!"
Daehyun wiggles his eyebrows at him mockingly, causing Haneul to hide his face for a moment as it turns redder. He remembers what he came for and shoots up, waving the paper in his hand around again. "I finished my picture! I wanted you to see it, Appa. It's for you anyway," he beams. Daehyun looks over his shoulder, chuckling again before looking at it.
His heart jumps in his ribcage, and his eyes widen at what he sees. Or rather, who. There's no mistaking those blue eyes. Haneul asks, "Is she pretty, Appa?", the face on the picture lovingly.
On the paper was a picture of Haneul's mother, by the hands and crayons of Jung Haneul himself.
When Haneul was first taken to the care home and Daehyun hadn't been allowed to stay, he'd handed his son his mother's picture, the one he always kept in his wallet. He'd said it was to keep him from being lonely when his appa wasn't there.
Though Haneul never knew his mother, he had obviously imprinted the picture in his heart as he'd drawn it from memory, almost perfectly.
Daehyun's fingers join Haneul's in tracing the lines on the paper. "She's beautiful."
Haneul smiles, and rests his head in the crook of Daehyun's neck. Daehyun holds him like this for a while, savoring the moment. He doesn't know how much longer they have together. He's read many stories of leukemia-diagnosed children online, and they all seemed to have happy endings. However, he's learned to expect anything.
Leaning Haneul forwards, he reaches behind his neck and pulls a chain from where it rests on his own broad shoulders, and latches it around Haneul's instead. As Daehyun fumbles with the link to keep it in place, Haneul's curiosity is drawn to the ring hanging on the chain. He smiles as he fiddles with it, slipping it on and off his little finger, pushing the hair away from his eyes as a soft breeze ruffles it. "Appa, what's this?"
With the necklace now safely secured around his neck, Daehyun smiles and tells Haneul, "This is Umma's wedding ring. They wouldn't let her take it to heaven with her, so she gave it to me instead. But now you can have it, Squishy. Just don't lose it, or I'll have to come and sit on you." He his hair affectionately with a smile, as Haneul gazes down at the ring in wonder.
"Thank you, Appa."
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