Ki Hoon finally fell asleep after using up all his energy to cry. Her heart felt like a shattering pyramid, intense and loud as it crumbled. The toy car was still in his tight grasp against his tiny chest and his tear dried cheeks stained her very memory. Namjoo cupped a hand around his pudgy cheek and ran her fingers through his swift hair.

She’d broken his heart, she’d broken his heart. To know it hurt her deeply. She was sorry he had to go through this. He wouldn’t hurt so much if he wasn’t with her and she felt even more apologetic.

She and Sehun first sat in silence against the old couch in the small living room. The pattern on fabric of it was fading; perhaps giving it the appearance of vintage photoshopped furniture.

“I’m sorry it turned out this way.”

“Don’t be.”

“He’s been calling Luhan his father lately,” Namjoo told quietly with her hand on her knee, “but I still told myself, I should let him know who his real dad is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“When Ki Hoon was born, Luhan cared for him as if he was his own. No matter what, Luhan was always there for Ki Hoon. He’s Ki Hoon’s fatherly image. I think that when Ki Hoon grows up, he’ll never be able to forget what Luhan’s done for him. They’re…so attached to each other I feel wrong for doing this to them.”

Warmth grasped her hand.

“I know I’m in the wrong for making Ki Hoon grow up this way. He can’t even trust me as a mother,” Namjoo was disappointed. “Even I can’t tell what’s running through his mind. Ki Hoon won’t let me in. He’ll only tell Luhan everything.”

And she felt her heart fold over and over as the pain continued to explode.

“I’m a failure as his mother,” Namjoo croaked.

Leaning his head upon her shoulder he spoke into her hair, “You did well.”

As Namjoo solemnly cried of disappointment he caressed her hand soothingly, letting her know that she wasn’t alone.

Kicking and fighting against her the next morning was Ki Hoon who refused to get dressed for Day Care. Screaming and shrieking with all his might her son continued to call out for the man who couldn’t come to his rescue. Namjoo had never had it so hard with Ki Hoon before. He’d always been obedient, calm, and patient. Never had she known this side of him.

When Namjoo finally gave up she stared down at her son bunched up against the wall in his pajamas with the toy car still tucked against his chest. He stared at her angrily with tears slowly drying on his face and watery eyes. Slightly out of breath from the struggle she chucked her arms around him already almost twenty minutes late for work.

After alighting from the cab in front of the Day Care she carried him in. Ki Hoon refused to hold onto her, so Namjoo had to use all her strength to keep him up in case he slid down. After apologizing profusely to the Day Care assistant she finally left for work only to receive numerous calls from the Day Care that Ki Hoon was throwing fits and fighting with other children.

They wanted her to go pick him up, but she couldn’t leave. The store was busy with oncoming customers full of complaints and her break was already over. The manager wouldn’t let her leave since she’d done so on many occasions. It wasn’t fair to her co-workers.

Stressed already from Ki Hoon’s tantrum Namjoo couldn’t think of anyone else. Sehun was unreachable and she couldn’t go to him. She was afraid his mother kept track of him at work and would follow him.

It’d been almost a week since she’d contacted Luhan or gone to see him and his family. Filled with hesitance she ran over in her head the only available options she had which was none.

She needed Luhan…Ki Hoon needed Luhan. Whatever remained between her and Luhan would have to be set aside for now. Her son mattered first.

Luhan never picked up her calls though. The phone rang endlessly and she didn’t leave any message for him. She understood clearly that he probably didn’t want to talk with her.

He’d been clear with her about his feelings all along. Namjoo had easily used his feelings when she ran to him rashly. In a sense, she’d played and betrayed him; just as she’d done with Ki Hoon’s feelings.

“Namjoo! We need you out here!” Someone called her from the front counter.

“I’ll be right there!” Namjoo shouted from the back room.

+++

Luhan hung his head back and spun around slowly in his chair. The continuous ring of his phone was a medley to his ears; a song he would recognize anywhere. It was the only song he specially used for Namjoo and he hadn’t changed it. He’d felt that if he changed the ring tone he’d lose all touch of what remained in his memory.

The thoughts were sweet to the core, but cold at the tip.

When it stopped ringing he would stop spinning in his chair and wait for the song to come back on.

It didn’t.

Closing his eyes he breathed in a deep breath.

The past week had been mere torture. He came home straight from work every day, sometimes anticipating Ki Hoon’s voice screaming his name before tackling his legs. And he’d think about picking Namjoo up from work. Then it would strike him that he couldn’t do that. It hurt more after that.

Things were much more boring. He couldn’t bear sitting in the living room with his parents. He only came out of his room for meals. His world was black and white with no color. No excitement and no happiness cheered him on from the sidelines.

Luhan hadn’t felt lonely for so long.

When he lie still on his bed he’d wait to hear Ki Hoon wailing in the next room as he often did as a newborn. And Luhan wanted to cry when he remembered rushing in to see Namjoo trying to calm the baby down. Those days when he had the ability to calm Ki Hoon into a sleep with Namjoo peering at him astonished crashed into his memory, like a plane against the Grand Canyon. He missed them even more.

Without them he had nothing, and he wanted to be nothing.

His eyes opened when a different ring tone punched the stillness in his room and he leaned forward.

“I’m sorry, but Ki Hoon’s mother requested for you to come get him,” the voice on the other line explained.

When Luhan arrived at the Day Care a woman was standing at the front door hand in hand with a glum Ki Hoon. Not once had Luhan seen such a gloomy, yet angered expression on his face.

“Han Han!” Ki Hoon’s eyes brightened up.

Instead of walking toward him with arms ready to lift him up, Luhan paused in step. He couldn’t forget why Namjoo had left. She wanted to familiarize Ki Hoon with Sehun.

That meant that he couldn’t baby Ki Hoon as he’d always done. Luhan couldn’t spoil him nor treat him as his own. Ki Hoon needed to get used to his real father, who had to be there for him…in a place that Luhan couldn’t take.

It made him bitter. The deep pain burned inside and Luhan’s throat constricted.

Pulling out of the woman’s hand Ki Hoon ran toward him with a familiar toy against his chest. In an instant Luhan felt his world crash when those small arms embraced his legs.

Pressing his face into his knees Ki Hoon whined, “Han Han, I miss.”

Luhan wanted to cry.

Grabbing Ki Hoon’s hand he led the child toward his car and drove home. His parents weren’t in.

“Go watch TV,” Luhan coldly ordered and made his way into the kitchen to search for something to eat.

He didn’t want Ki Hoon in front of him. Every bit of the child reminded him of the girl who used to be his, and the man his girl loved.

Luhan was angry at these thoughts.

Setting the table he sat down and started to eat. Out of the corner of his eyes a several minutes later he saw Ki Hoon poke his head into the kitchen. The innocent little boy with his father’s eyes stared longingly at Luhan before approaching quite happily.

“Han Han! Up!” Ki Hoon slightly jumped with an arm raised, his other arm clutching onto the toy.

Luhan paused with his spoon in front of him before biting hard on the metal.

His heart cracked.

“Han Han!” Came the whine again.

Luhan refused to react. If he reacted he knew Ki Hoon would cling onto him even more. If Ki Hoon clung onto him he wouldn’t recognize his real father. That would hurt Namjoo.

He didn’t want to hurt Namjoo, but Namjoo had hurt him and everything in turn just hurt even more.  

What goes around comes around…

Luhan slightly choked on his food when Ki Hoon grabbed his leg to shake him for attention.

“Han Han! I want up! Me eat too!” Ki Hoon went on, innocence in every part of his tone.

“Stop it, Hoon,” Luhan coldly and calmly ordered.

When Ki Hoon continued calling for his attention Luhan slammed down the spoon in his hand loudly. Turning toward Namjoo’s son with a hard, blown out glare he screamed.

“I said stop it! Stop it! I don’t want to hear you! Go! Go play by yourself!” Luhan shouted at the top of his lungs so admitted to anger that he was immediately guilty when Ki Hoon shrunk in spot.

The glitter in the little boy’s eyes stung Luhan’s heart. He’d never raised his voice at Ki Hoon nor had he seen the fear triggered there.

Heaving a loud sigh Luhan turned away from the boy, who stepped back with a sob. His loud cries echoed throughout the house. Forcing himself to become deaf to it Luhan stared hard at the wall ahead of him and the gray counter lining the wall.

Ki Hoon continued sobbing hoarsely, a cry of heartbroken language seeping through. Slinking onto the floor and holding onto the dear toy Luhan had given him long ago, Ki Hoon didn’t stop. For a second Luhan thought he could hear his pain echoing from little Hoon.

His eyes stung for a second before tears enveloped and Luhan rushed for the boy. Ki Hoon immediately hung onto him when Luhan hugged him, weeping even more devastatingly.

“I’m sorry, Hoon. I’m so sorry,” Luhan’s voice cracked. “I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

For a long time in the middle of the kitchen they held onto each other as if nothing in the world could draw them apart; remove them from each other. And that Luhan found self-comfort in. They were each other's.  

Finally exhausted Ki Hoon slept in his arms with a hand tightly clutching onto his shirt. Luhan was unable to more for an hour on the couch until his mother returned.

“Namjoo’s going to be here soon,” Luhan said solemnly. “I don’t think I can stay to see Ki Hoon off.”

+++

Namjoo slightly stopped in step before Luhan’s house. Taking a deep breath she walked forward and rang the doorbell. Her heart lurched forward when the door opened a second later. At first she expected it to be Luhan, but instead she saw Luhan’s mother with Ki Hoon in her arms; his head leaning against her shoulder.

“How nice it is to see you! We missed you,” his mother agonized grabbing her hand kindly.

Namjoo smiled at the motherly.

“I’m sorry for troubling you.”

“No, not at all. It’s such a joy to have you and Ki Hoon, no matter what.” She smiled wholeheartedly.

The vibe from her smile touched Namjoo’s heart immediately and she wanted to hug the woman.

“Ki Hoon just woke up. Why don’t you come in for a bit?”

“It’s ok. I just came for Ki Hoon.”

Then she saw Luhan’s mother’s eyes light up sympathetically. Namjoo felt sorry.

“Don’t worry about him,” she assured. “Luhan’s a grown man. He’ll eventually accept things as they are. Though he may hurt now, he’ll be better soon. Don’t feel bad, Namjoo. It happens.”

“I’m sorry,” Namjoo still apologized anyway.

She pattered her arm before proceeding to hand Ki Hoon over, but Ki Hoon held onto her even tighter.

“No,” Ki Hoon muttered. “Here home. I stay.”

“Your mommy’s come for you. Don’t you want to go with her?” Luhan’s mother spoke to him in an innocent, yet childish tone.

“No go.” Ki Hoon continued hiding his face into her shoulder.

Namjoo reached her hand out to touch Ki Hoon, but hesitated for whatever reason she couldn’t depict. Perhaps she was drowned in guilt or maybe she was sad that in reality Ki Hoon wanted Luhan much more than her. That even as his mother she couldn’t do anything for him.

Luhan’s mother seemed to notice and tried to talk Ki Hoon into going with her, but Namjoo just smiled a little sadly.

“It’s ok,” Namjoo gave in. “Let him stay.”

“Are you sure?”

Namjoo forced herself to nod, “If it’s here, it’s fine.”

Luhan’s mother continued to give her a sympathetic, but understanding stare. “Get home safe.”

Namjoo nodded and leaned forward to talk to Ki Hoon, “You be good, ok? I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

With a last smile at Luhan’s mother she reluctantly turned toward the cab at the end of the street and returned home with an empty heart.

Nothing was right at all…

She’d thought that leaving Luhan would be for the better, but this just wasn’t it. No one was quite happy. It felt like Ki Hoon hated her and it she felt down every day. Namjoo hadn’t foreseen any of this mess.

After bathing that evening she sat alone in the living room sunk in a silence she dreaded. Ki Hoon should be happily talking to her about his nonsense by now. She’d be watching him play with his toys, or maybe Luhan might be there to accompany them. It would be a cheery atmosphere filled with laughter and nonstop smiling. Yet she was alone and depressed.

Her phone rang a second later. It was Luhan, but when she answered it wasn’t him speaking.

The cool night air whipped her face as she slowly walked down the street; the night lights passing by in flashes. There were plenty of others roaming around and the smell of street food stunk up the air like how rotting food does; strong and intense.

Grasping her hands in front of her tightly she nervously looked around. It’d been a while since she’d walked around like this just by herself. Namjoo had the tendency to feel awkward after realizing she was the only one walking around without the company of a friend or significant other.

A red tent came into view moments later. The street lamps topped the roof of the small temporary building that protected customers from the blowing gusts of the night. Steam from a large pot nearby wove itself into her face when she walked in to see someone strewn over the table.

Namjoo walked over and greeted the stranger who’d been sitting with the knocked out customer.

“He was staring at his phone for so long I thought it was a picture he was looking at,” the man explained, “but it was just your number. Poor drunk must’ve been so scared to call you.”

Namjoo’s eyes traveled down to the sleeping Luhan.

Shaking his head as he walked away she heard him mutter, “Young kids these days.”

Sighting the phone beside Luhan she spotted a picture her number before sitting down on the empty plastic chair next to him.

“Luhan,” she called out and gently shook him, “wake up. You shouldn’t sleep here.”

She shook him again and watched his eyes open. He looked tired as if he hadn’t slept for days and suddenly straightened up. Rubbing his face messily as if he couldn’t quite see clearly he then stared at her for a long time.    

***/CRIES/