Winter Days

Losses have never been much of a big deal to Youngjae. Whether it'd be losing soccer matches, ranking second in academic competitions or just absentmindedly leaving his things behind, Youngjae has never been affected much by them. It's been about two years since he's been working in this hospital, yet Youngjae still can't cope with one certain type of loss—death.

A burdensome silence hangs in the aisle, sinking upon Youngjae's slouched figure by the benches. He had let himself get too attached to a patient. A bright child who, despite the malign disease eating at his body, had been so full of life. The bitter winter had been too harsh on his frail self and he left.

Minhyun was the first child with a fatal disease Youngjae had been assigned to. Youngjae still remembers the strands of hair intertwined between his fingers and the smile just below his hand, still strong in spite of violent coughs. Just a few hours ago, Youngjae had been sitting by his bedside, listing the things they'd do when he got better.

When it's spring, hyung will bring you out to play, okay?

Promises of seeing the leaves grow back and white transform into all sorts of pretty colours were made, yet none were realised. Minhyun's immunity system had declined so rapidly during the winter, like a flower from fall destined to be conquered by the heavy snow. Youngjae had been a little too hopeful, a little too naive to entrust his faith to spring during the brutal winter. It was hard not to; the boy had been a beacon of the most brilliant light to Youngjae, giving him such great assurance to believe and let his guard down.

The doctor beside him leans back into his chair and says softly, "I heard winter's here to stay this year."

Youngjae nods, not bothering to wipe the tears off his dazed face. The doctor sighs and squeezes Youngjae's shoulder.

"Thank you, Dr. Park," Youngjae whispers back.

The doctor scoffs lightly and flashes a warm grin. "I told you, you can call me hyung when we're off-duty."

"Thank you, Yoochun-hyung,” Youngjae murmurs with a small smile. The doctor leaves and Youngjae trudges away, still immersed in forlorness. He honestly wonders how many more times he'll have to go through this, withstand the agony that devours all the faith left in him.

Before he leaves the hospital, Sunhwa pulls him into a quick hug. There's a gaping hole in him and a dull ache in his chest, and the silence he receives when entering his apartment doesn't help. Unable to battle the feeling of hollowness in him, Youngjae buries himself under covers and cries his heart out.