The night before his parents’ death anniversary proved to be like every year past, with Jinki’s attempts to sleep being uneventful. Somewhere in the early morning hours, he’d decided not to waste his energy on trying to sleep and got up, slowly starting to get ready for his trip to his parents’ gravestones.

He slipped on black slacks, and a white wife-beater was pulled over his head as his best dress shirt, a maroon button down, rested on top of his bed, just waiting for Jinki to pull it on.

Looking around at his apartment, Jinki couldn’t help but shudder at its emptiness, wondering for a short moment if he should adopt an animal or two before reminding himself promptly that every time he saw an animal, he turned and ran away.

Then, he chose to just sit down on his sofa, staring at the clock and counting each second until he would be able to see his parents again. He spent four hours in that same position, tears escaping his eyes occasionally, and finally, at 9 AM, his doorbell rang.

Slowly, Jinki stood up and crossed over, opening the door with a solemn expression on his face. The youngers, eagerly conversing with each other, had immediately sobered after seeing the lifeless look in the elder male’s face.

“You’re not ready yet?” Taemin asked, pointing at Jinki’s wife-beater. Jinki didn’t bat an eyelash, opening the door wider and walking back to his room to grab his shirt. After buttoning his shirt up properly and tucking it into his pants, and making sure his blonde hair wasn’t in disarray, he made his way to leave his bedroom.

The door opened just before he could open it, and as he took a step back hesitantly, Minho slipped into the room, closing the gap between them as he caressed a side of the elder male’s face, “I’ll be right next to you today, Jinki. Please don’t let yourself suffer alone.”

Jinki’s eyes dropped from Minho’s own piercing gaze, to land on the younger male’s cheek, and before he knew what he was doing, he had leaned up and kissed Minho’s cheek, pulling back with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, “Thank you, Minho.”

Minho nodded and left Jinki’s room with the elder trailing after him, and Jinki took the time to look over all the younger men, noticing that they too had decided to wear the best clothes they could, each one carrying with them a bouquet of various flowers.

Jinki grabbed the flowers he had bought the night before and sighed as he stared at them. What about if he died? Would there be people to put flowers on his grave?