::

It started before life began to make sense. Like, way before.

It started not the first, but the second time Tao saw the guy. It wouldn’t have worked out the first time, given that Tao wasn’t supposed to be there, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to have been with Junhee that day nor should he have taken her to that type of place, no matter the reason.

And the reason being Junhong made it ten times worse. He still had not forgiven himself for that.

Tao was seventeen back then and plenty invested in his future. No, he wasn’t supposed to know where Choi Junhong was, and he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to take Junhee there.

Okay. Maybe Tao still hadn’t forgiven her for leaving. At the time, he wanted to see her hurt, let her see what Junhong had become. His intention was to cause her pain, and he still felt sick every time he thought back.

It probably was the only time he ever hated himself so badly.

But if he hadn’t been there that night, he wouldn’t have recognised the guy this time around. Junhong’s bandmate. Tao knew his brother, Yoo Youngwon. He was one of Kris’ colleagues.

Kris mentioned Youngwon had a dead brother. Tao was more than sure that this dude walking by him was the dead brother. It should have surprised Tao more than it did, to see him appear out of the examination room. Tao wasn’t an angry teenager who had just lost his grandmother anymore. He was twenty-something and life was starting to make sense.

So.

It was strange and rather unsettling to see the guy in the flesh. Youngjae, was it? A hospital out of all places. Tao had seen many dead things, and this guy sure as hell was not dead enough to be, well, dead.

A matter of speaking, Yoo Youngjae was the same kind of dead Tao himself was to his blood relatives, so maybe he shouldn’t judge the guy too hard.

This time, things were different.

Tao stopped the guy in the corridor. He was poetic like that, to describe Youngjae as a shadow, never standing out in the sun, a dark streak in the bowl-like valley of vivid war field of the world.

Youngjae flinched away. Tao made a grab for his elbow, the other hand steady on his camera bag.

“Hey, Youngjae right?”

Tao offered him what he hoped was a friendly smile. The guy’s eyes were guarded. He looked sick, but certainly not dead.

“That depends on which Youngjae you’re looking for.”

Yoo Youngjae, Youngwon’s brother.

Instead, Tao said, “BAP Youngjae.”

The guy relaxed. Tao hid his relief by offering a inquisitive nod. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” said the guy, straightening up a little.

Why aren’t you dead?

“Nice to meet you. I used to, um, I was…”

Youngjae’s gaze flickered down to Tao’s equipments; the backpack, the tripod and the identification strap around his neck.

“You’re the camera guy,” said Youngjae, eyes flickering, like blown out candles suddenly firing up. Something close to a miracle. “You won the National Exhibition in 2010, 2011 and 2012… And 2013.”

Tao flushed. Well, then. He was thinking along the lines of, I was a friend of Junhong’s back in high school, But sure, this worked too.

“Huang Zitao, award-winning photographer,” said Tao, offering his hand and a smile.

“Pleasure. Just Youngjae, guitar guy.” Youngjae took his hand, giving Tao a lopsided grin. “You need to work on that smile. It’s endearing, but makes you look like you have stomach problems.”

Tao couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe that’s why I’m here.”

Why are you here?

Youngjae tapped his own nose, gaze flickering behind his shoulder at the floor sign. “Then you’re on the wrong floor, man. This is the blood ward.”

So the rumours are true? You’re a dead man?

Tao wasn’t sure what to think. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have cared at all. Youngjae was richer, presumably deader, and from a parentage that was too much like Tao’s. But he felt for him.

He didn’t have a name for what he felt. Empathy was one word, but it didn’t fit. Invested was another.

“Here,” Tao said, slipping the guy his business card. He had no idea why he just did that. “Don’t look at me like I’m nuts. I just have no social skills whatsoever.”

Youngjae laughed. His voice was melodious in a way that gave Tao the ache in his chest. If the guy was magic, he probably could brew up a fatal rainstorm yet leave the burning sun just for the view; he was light and dark all at once.

“I can be the, I dunno, awkward friend,” said Tao, shrugging. “You probably have too many cool friends, being in a rock band and all.”

“You’re serious?”

“Hey. I haven’t got enough people skills to joke.”

“Of course not.” Youngjae nodded, lips twitching. “I’ll give you a ring, if I need a, say, shoulder to sob on.”

“You do that.”

7:04 AM

“You won’t believe who I just met,” a dull voice swam across the room as the man in a lab coat continued to frown at the dark binder in front of him. “Uh, you okay?”

“I have no time for breakfast,” the young doctor stated, ruffling his hair in agitation, standing up and started to pace in circles as the visitor sank down on one of the couches. “Do you think Suho’s set someone after me?”

“Uh what?”

The man on the couch looked up as he settled his many equipments down.

“Somebody’s out to ruin my career,” the doctor frowned. “I don’t think I’ve stepped on anybody particularly hard on my way up the rank.”

“Hyung,” the guy on the couch rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to step on anyone. They all hate you anyway.”

“What? Why?” the doctor said, eyes startled and all professional composure gone as he wheeled around to the couch guy.

“Because you’re here and they’re not.”

“That’s stupid.”

The couch guy shrugged, throwing the lab coat man an orange. “That’s human.”

The man caught it and his frown deepened. “Whatever. I’ll worry about my job later. How many times do I have to tell you I hate oranges?”

He threw the orange back at the many-equipments guy, before striding over and slumping down in a one person seat, but not before grabbing the binder off the work desk.

“Anyway, you were saying?”

“Nothing. I just met one of Junhong’s bandmate on the way here. He was nice.”

The lab-coat man looked up, just as the couch guy the TV. The morning news was about to end.

“Was he?”

“Yeah,” said the couch guy absently. “His name’s Youngjae, and I’m pretty sure I just gave my name card to his ghost.”

The doctor went silent for a long while, catching the younger’s attention.

“Uh, Tao? He didn’t happen to be wearing a grey shirt, black skinny jeans and a leather jacket was he?”

Tao blinked.

“What? You’ve seen him too?” Tao sat up. “Is he the residence ghost? I thought nobody ever died in this department.”

The man paled, looking like he would be sick. He chin-pointed to the thick old binder on the glass table before them.

“What’s the problem?” Tao asked, picking up the file, although he knew all about patient’s confidentiality. Kris never let him touch anybody’s files; this one seemed to be an exception. It was exceptionally thick too.

“He isn’t dead.”

“How’s that a problem?” Tao asked although he already sort of knew.

“You remember Youngwon’s brother? The kid who died?”

Tao’s heart sped up, hand frozen on the binder. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Kris shook his head, looking sick. “It can’t be. He’s dead, isn’t he? We went to his funeral. His family–”

Tao’s expression darkened.

“Blood relation means nothing, Kris. Not to these people. You should know that by now.” Tao had had a fair share of abandonment issues himself. Besides, if Kris hadn’t learned from his experience with Tao’s family nor his own family, then he should at least pick up some clue from the Chois.

The more Tao grew, the more juvenile Kris seemed to be. It was like, only Tao mellowed while his hyung stayed with the mentality of a child. It was absurd. He’d always looked up to Kris for being the mature one, but now things were different. He could read Kris like an open book now, and if anything, this made Tao even more fond of him.

Was this what it was like to grow up, ending up taking care of one’s parents? It sure felt like it.

“I never knew Youngwon’s family is abusive,” Kris said darkly. “And to do that to a kid who needs extra care.”

“Abusive?”

Kris didn’t reply for a long time. And when he did, Tao had the solution ready for him.

“They didn’t plan on raising him. From the records, he was born ill. He would’ve died within the first four years, but they found out he’s…intellectually gifted. They decided to keep him for private organisations. Supposedly, it’s harmless, like case studies you see in scientific journals. Just, you know, brain scanning and tests from time to time.”

“What went wrong?”

“Brain damage, the type that can only be caused by abuse. When patterns showed on one of the Boston tests, he got taken out of the program. It was quite clear his family took their anger out on him. They abandoned all the medical treatments that kept him healthy. He contracted more illnesses after that, none of them are curable.”

“How long does he have?”<