Jinki wanted to yell at them all to shut up, none of their pain and hurt mattered as much as his. It’s not rational or kind of him.

Yoonhee arrived at the hospital, eyes wide, body breathless in her hurry to get to him. “Oppa..?”

Jinki turned to her with surprise, not remembering calling her in a panic as he arrived at the hospital, but seeing her now, he broke down then, letting it all go at seeing a familiar, loving face. Eyes scrunched in heavy tears and his whimpering voice fell in incoherent whines. He didn’t know what to do. “Yoonhee-ya… Yoonhee-ya..”

The woman hurried to catch him in a hug, hold tight. “Is she okay?”

At Jinki’s crying instead of an answer, Yoonhee’s voice also quivers, big eyes blinking wet. “Oppa, is she okay?”

Jinki finally answered. “No.”

______________

It’s a few hours later, hospital calmed when Jinki was sitting in a waiting room, cellphone out, insistent to the doctors he call Minho to inform him.

He’s not sure why, it would be so much easier if they called, or if he let his mother call who was still talking to doctors down the wall, insisting there’s something they could have done while a husband tried to calm her down. He should let his father do it, even though the man looked hesitant, like there’s already enough tension between them and if he had to call it could ruin them forever.

Why did Jinki volunteer himself before anyone else would?

Jinki felt obligated. He was supposed to watch out for Hyojin while Minho was away, he had promised. 

How could this possibly happen.

Yoonhee sat a few chairs down from him, attention on the tv hanging from the wall, news still reporting the local bus crash that took most of the passengers’ lives. They report on an elderly woman that was injured but would make it through. Jinki scoffed in bitterness. The tone of the news just felt too emotionless for the ones there in the hospital actually experiencing it all.

Beside the two sat Hyojin’s bag that had been brought to the hospital with her only because through the mess and chaos, that bag had clung to her body still. A cellphone with so few contact numbers in it remained inside; Jinki’s cell the most dialed number in recent phone history, possibly how doctors notified him first. He still wasn’t sure. The large bag was half-full of crafts she had gone out to buy, likely out to distract herself from being home alone with nothing to do.If she had just waited- if she had told Jinki what she wanted he could have picked it up.

Kim Hyojin was a stubborn woman though.

“Oppa, you think the baby will be okay?”

“How should I know?” Jinki snapped. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

Yoonhee’s surprised look faded and she silently turned back to the news.

Jinki wiped his face, hands scrapping through hair, cell twirled in his hand.

It took a while, but he mustered up the courage, getting up to round an empty corner to be alone. It’s horrible of him as the line answered, hoping that Minho wouldn’t be available, like he so often had been the last several months when he called. It’s so awful of him that he wanted that, needed that, more now than ever.

Minho was more than available, he soon answered, tone a bit low, something hinting at more than exhaustion, as he explained he had just got off his busy schedule. 

“I miss you,” Minho said, almost a whisper.

Jinki sniffed, voice not his usual, mind still fuzzy and not even really hearing Minho’s words. Still nothing made sense. The call shouldn’t be happening.

“Is something wrong?”

Where should he even begin? Yeah something was wrong – everything was wrong. Your wife of barely a year has been pronounced dead and your child, saved from the womb of a woman nearly ready for birth, was still born premature was under critical care. How do you even explain that? Words had never been Jinki’s strong suit, and now was no different.

“Minho.. Hyojin.. she’s.. there was a bus accident, she’s.. uh..” he took a hard breath. “Gone.”

“What?” There’s a bitter laughter in Minho’s tone, one saying he didn’t like the joke at all.

Jinki wasn’t kidding around though. “Hyojin is dead, Minho.. she died in surgery while trying to save her and the baby- I just.. -I’m so sorry.” Jinki’s voice fell in a crying, defeated whine. “I didn’t..”

The line was silent long enough Jinki thought it had disconnected. He was about to call out to Minho when there was a distant shouting scream of agony, finally informing him the line had not cut off.

Jinki desperately wanted to hang up then, sounds of Minho’s hurt too much to bear. It took everything in him to bravely stay on the line after that.

______________

Jinki’s sweaty palms brushed over the black suit he wore, anxious watching each person pass by him to enter the room where they would bow and give their respects to the deceased and the living kin.

Jinki hated seeing all the black. So much darkness. He rather celebrate Hyojin’s life, all she did, how she helped Minho in ways he couldn’t. There should be celebration with color and her beautiful smiles and that sense of humor of hers telling silly jokes. 

That wasn’t proper. It was a time to mourn, give your condolences. Yoonhee wandered up beside him, dressed just as dark as him, hand reaching for his in a comforting manner. He looked to the room, finding the portrait of Kim Hyojin, a woman he hadn’t known for long, but found a respect for her in the time he did get to know her. The photo of the deceased sat high with two dark ribbons draped across it and pretty flowers surrounding the frame, bringing out the young woman’s charming beauty all the more.

Jinki’s eyes fell on Minho then, sitting in there alone as another group entered the room. He sat in a slight slouch, but on bent knees formally, wearing the same dark suit, but his head was held high. Fingers fidgeted at his lap and eyes were red from tears he refused to shed. Jinki noticed his stare was almost vacant, something like the years before. It worried him. He didn’t know if some sort of relapse was possible, but the thought frightened him.

Seeing Minho again really hit Jinki how much he missed him, how hard he wanted them to be close friends again- just wanted Minho back from his service, but this wasn’t what he had in mind, not at all.

A little baby girl still waited in the hospital, and with no family to find connected to Hyojin, Minho’s military leave to take care of a funeral would likely lead to an early discharge to care for his family. Minho hadn’t even made it through a full year of his military service. It showed, and hair is still short from the mandatory buzzcut every man gets on entrance.

On the other side of the room were Minho’s parents, quiet and reserved, a mother shedding silent tears for her child. And much like Minho, Minseok was fidgeting all too familiarly, likely in that same helpless state they all felt. 

“Oppa..” Yoonhee whispered. “It will be okay, right?”

Jinki wasn’t sure. He could only hope. Give a silent prayer and hope, like always. He wasn’t useful for much else it seemed.

The crowd to come pay respects was small, not many knowing the two well enough to bother. It’s not like her death stood out among the many in that bus ride. Those locals were all so much more familiar than Hyojin’s fresher face to the town. Maybe it was better that way, because Jinki saw the fire lit beneath Minho, he’s prime for an explosion very soon. He just hoped no one important would see it, Minho wouldn’t be able to standing it, and dropping it on top of the death of a wife—

Jinki had the sudden memory of Minho trying to jump from his balcony years before. It’s still all too real in his mind. He couldn’t stand the thought of it happening again.

He leaned into Yoonhee, answering in a voice that quivered with a broken heart for his friend. “I don’t know.. I really don’t.”

Yoonhee pulled Jinki closer, reminding him of the comfort and support she was.

______________

Yoonhee hung back at the swinging doors with a sad smile, while Jinki went the rest of the way with Minho through the hospital hall down to the rooming of newborn babies. Minho was quiet, but Jinki was too. He didn’t know what to say. It’s Minho’s first time meeting the baby; a baby Jinki had seen the day she was born from behind thick glass. She was so small, and all Jinki could think about was Hyojin no longer breathing unable to see the child, he thought a lot about Minho then, what this would do to him – all of them, but most of all he was emotionally exhausted. He might have smiled at the baby, but Jinki couldn’t recall.

Now though, Minho was home, he had to come see the baby. The gathering to celebrate Hyojin’s life was over; time still kept moving forward despite a feeling of standing still in the horror of the tragedy.

Jinki glanced at his friend, still noting how distant he appeared, like he was going through the motions but not really himself at all. It worried Jinki tremendously. Maybe this was too soon.

Jinki slowed his steps as they came up to the room and a nurse helped Minho with the young man doing as little audible talking as possible. 

Jinki supposed this should be one of those magical moments - seeing your child for the first time and all. Minho still looked pale, even more so. Large eyes darted around, before making a long moment of eye contact on the small infant still hooked up to IVs and medical machines. 

Minho slowly touched the windowing of the small enclosure she laid in. 

A nurse offered to help Minho touch the baby through the small openings. He visibly stiffened, and Jinki was surprised to see Minho look directly at him, as if for guidance of some sort. Jinki took a step forward, a smile put on with a small head nod, trying to assure his friend when he himself couldn’t feel very sure of anything. 

With the nurse’s assistance, Minho was set up to gently touch the baby. 

Jinki waited for a smile, some sort of light in big brown eyes starring down at a newborn; that moment everything fell into place saying it was going to be okay from here on out.

It didn’t come. Minho never smiled. He only looked like a lost kid himself still, one barely trying.

Jinki teetered further into his own guilt. How could he have let this happen to his best friend?

______________

Within a couple days, Jinki accompanied Minho with his family, taking a drive to burial grounds. Minho clutched the small urn tightly, holding the ashes of Hyojin close to his body. His eyes were puffy and red, expression still lost. Jinki hadn’t seen a smile from anyone in days. His mother sat beside him in the van, staying close to her grieving son, hands keeping her worried thoughts at bay by dusting his suit off in a motherly manner. Everyone was still dressed so dark, so hollow.

Jinki silently watched as Hyojin’s ashes blew in the wind on a cloudy day, spread with Minho’s shaking hands.

As Minho cried, finally out of the public eye of the funeral where he held it together, he was still in the process of spreading ashes. When he soon looked about to fall to his knees in a loud sob, Minseok hugged him from behind as a form of support and mother rubbed his arm, own eyes damp.

Jinki stood back, further than even the father, staying much closer to the van. He wiped red eyes himself. 

He felt so guilty still.

He was supposed to protect her.

Jinki didn’t speak to Minho that whole day through.

Once home to by himself, Jinki loosened his stuffy suit, was greeted a fluffy little dog, and broke into tears just trying to open a simple bottle of water for his dry mouth. Jinki sat in the kitchen tugging on his tie and squeezing a bottle tightly in his grip with a sob. He cried hard. He cried alone.

______________

Minho sat on a small bed, concerned parents talking down the hall, and an older brother in and out of the home with his emergency visit back to town taking care of most the business no one else could mange to.

Minho sat there in a quiet room surround by his old things; sports awards, school projects, pictures of a happy childhood, toys he was much too old for stashed tidily in a corner. 

Minho sat there for hours, days even, eyes red, face swollen. A black suit and tie hung neatly on the door of his wardrobe, a faint and passing reminder of the last couple days. Subconsciously the smell of a hospital lingered with him; he was at a hospital somewhere in there, finding something so unfamiliar it couldn’t have been real.

Minho sat there and felt a peaceful, distant numbing, he didn’t even realize where he truly was.

Minho sat in his old bedroom, finally home again, but feeling nothing. 

Hyojin is dead, Minho. 

A sound from a hurting voice that drifted through his mind here and there. He couldn’t seem to process much of anything, not coherently.

Who even was Minho?

Choi Minho.

Was he that kid, the one that sat numb in his bedroom from hours to days with a horrible secret and a lasting scar to his entire being. Was he that young adult, the one that was home from a duty due to find a small family gone before it even begun.

He certainly didn’t know.

Even when he thought he knew-- he didn’t really know.

Who was he?

______________

On his full discharge, Minho had been insistent he didn’t want to go home, back to parents who had an empty nest for months. More than that, Minho’s marriage obviously wasn’t easily smiled upon, so he had no wishes to look in the wrong and have to move back home after a ‘mistake’. No adult, who wasn’t quite one, wanted that. With nowhere else to go, Jinki offered up a place to stay at his latest apartment as long as Minho needed. It had been a couple weeks since he laid Hyojin to rest, left the military, and gained custody of his new born released from the hospital on a clean bill of health.

The little baby girl was named Choi Jimin.

Minho said it was Hyojin top choice on her list of names. Minho wanted to honor that.

Minho did what his usual was now, sitting on the couch, holding the baby and staring off at nothing with heavy bags under his eyes, looking sickly thin and smaller than Jinki remembered Minho before he left for his service. It had to mean something, Jinki hadn’t come back looking that sickly, people he knew didn’t come back looking like that. Jinki didn’t ask what occurred during his time in the military though, how could he even try after had just happened, what had crashed down on all of them.

Yoonhee was over often when she was off work, as if she no longer had a social life just to take the crying infant from Minho, sooth the baby with care Minho wasn’t giving. After all the grieving, heart big enough she hurt for someone she never had the time to officially meet, Yoonhee finally found a smile to give, some maternal instinct kicked in, genuinely enjoying caring for the new born baby. Minho had looked the woman over, mentioning in private that he was surprised they were back together again, he had no idea. Jinki had never mentioned it while Minho was away. Maybe that was subconsciously on purpose. Maybe it was just because Minho barely returned his calls so he never had an opportunity to.

Most of all though, Minho just sat there on the couch, doing nothing.

But what could you do? One didn’t just get over the death of a loved one. It’s almost silly to realize that even though Jinki is older Minho has been through so much more in life than he could even imagine.

It still seemed odd waking up to find Minho around again even with that lifeless look- or maybe that made it all that more familiar to Jinki. It had been over a year since Jinki saw Minho regularly. When he slept well, mind blank as he stumbled from his room some mornings, Jinki was shocked to see Minho in his home, but then the truth of it- the hurt of it would remind him and he couldn’t be so happy about the sight. 

On the last day Jinki had off from work, going to have to leave the house regularly again because life just didn’t stop because someone died, as harsh as that reality was to face, he handed Minho a cup of heated noodles, asking “Did you eat yet today?”

Minho’s motor skills were slowed a lot these days, still in a state of shock and neglecting care for himself. It’s too much like years pier, and maybe it was an awful thought, but just because Hyojin passed didn’t mean Minho could slide back to that dark, miserable place so easily, not on Jinki’s watch. He’s far too scared to let Minho sink that deeply again. He had to be able to leave for work, be gone most the day and know Minho wouldn’t try to jump from any balconies. He even blocked off the one in the apartment and maybe Minho didn’t even notice.

In Minho’s skinny little arms was a baby to care for, something to live for now, and hopefully Minho understood that.

“I’m not hungry.” Minho stared off, still spending hours like that, looking so numb.

With a heavy sigh, Jinki sat beside Minho, eyes running up and down his thin figure, baggy clothes trying to hide it. He pushed glasses back up the bridge of his nose, pulled away from work to do what he had to. “I don’t care if you’re hungry or not, you’re going to eat this cup of noodles.”

Minho looked to Jinki, expression nearly blank, but eyes said enough that he wanted Jinki to back off and stop pressing. His glasses always enhanced Minho’s expressions, for the better or worse. This was one of those times Minho’s stubbornness didn’t look best on him.

“Do you want to fight about it? Is that what you want? Want to punch me? Would that make you feel better?” Jinki pulled his glasses off, eyes narrowing with a forced grin.

“Hyung-”

“No really, go ahead, I can take a shiner, you know me.”

“Hyung, stop-”

Jinki’s grin fell. “I won’t stop, not until you eat like a normal human being again.”

Minho’s eyes widened, Jinki’s uproar sinking into some nerve.

“You eat this,” Jinki held out the food, “And I’ll take care of her.”

They make a very slow trade, as if Minho feared if he let her go now he would never get her back again. That irrational fear was probably real on Minho’s part. Jinki wasn’t trying to take Jimin away from Minho though. He was trying to save Minho so Jimin could always have her father.

“I’ll even sit here until you finish that cup.”

Minho’s gave Jinki a nasty look, but he ate anyway.

Jinki held the infant carefully in his arms, tucking her back into the swaddling blanket. Jinki wouldn’t break, no – Minho would snap out of it first before Jinki hung his flag.

“If it was me, you would do the same thing to me- say the same thing, don’t pretend you wouldn’t, so just please..  listen to me now. Eat.”

Hard expression softening, Minho looked like those words actually sank in. He ate the whole cup of noodles under Jinki’s watchful eye. And Jinki held a baby again nervously.

As Minho hand back the empty cup, Jinki said next, “Now you need to shower and shave, you look-”

“Dirty?” Minho asked, like the simple word was loaded with so much more than it should be, like he’s never been able to achieve a clean he desired.

“Haggard..”

You look dead, was what Jinki couldn’t quite bring himself to say. He nearly brushed his fingertips over Minho’s face where a very faint stubble had been coming in and it’s just another sign of his derailing from life; how long he hasn’t been tending to his own self needs.

Minho got up without protest this time, just letting Jinki direct his life, slowly dragging his feet to the bathroom, not even spearing a glance back as the baby began to fuss a bit in Jinki’s nervous arms.

______________

Jinki slurped on a fresh cup of noodles, which was all he seemed to eat lately, cringing a bit at the burn of it as he passed to the room where noise from a tv was faint. Minho sat on the couch, holding a sleeping baby with eyes fixed on the tv. Jinki glanced to find the young man was watching news again about the bus accident. News everywhere, all the time, and Minho watched so much of it, as if looking for something, an answer no one can find. There was new reports into the investigation on what possibly caused such a tragedy, as well as news on some recovering victims being discharged from the hospital, and passing mention of the numbers that did not survive wreck.

“-cause might fall solely on the deceased bus driver, some are reporting, but the bus company gave another statement today that-” 

Jinki switched the channel. Minho looked to him then, silent gaze slightly annoyed, which was showing some emotion so that much was good. Jinki sighed, tempted to just let out his anxiety in a jumbled mess of ‘if you want someone to blame, blame me it was my fault, I should have done something, anything, you blame me already right?’

Jinki just gave a half smile and offered his cup of noodles. Minho turned back to the tv, still holding a sleeping new born so stiffly.

Jinki settled on a variety show, hoping some laughter would brighten the day, if a little.

______________

Jinki was surprised to see Minho’s mother at the door when he pushed it open. He stared awkwardly before deeply bowing and letting her in to find a mess of a place the home was. He hung his head with embarrassment, trying to smile and lead the way to where Minho sat on the couch holding Jimin and doing a lot of distant staring again. So Jinki nudged Minho as he past, hoping to alert him that someone was coming so stop looking lost.

Minho gave his mom a small smile, forcing it as best he could, then the baby fussed in a little wiggle and mother was quick to sit beside him, poking the blanket away to find the baby as she cooed, giving a grandmother’s love and affection. Minho blinked slowly, staring. He sniffed, “Mom..”

Mother lifted Minho’s chin, searching his eyes, then she pulled him close, bringing his head to her shoulder as she gently rocked two children, voice a small cry of “My little boy..”

Jinki left for his bedroom, allowing them some privacy.

______________

It’s late into the night, one Minho had decided to spent at his parents again with the baby, just telling him late in a simple text message when Jinki had been sitting worried about him, that he drank home alone, taking them down hard and heavy. He dragged out more bottles of alcohol from his stash in a kitchen cupboard.

He was wasted by the time he fumbled with is cell and called up Yoonhee, waking her in the middle of the night with a sorrowful voice.

“Yoonhee-ya.. Yoonhee-ya… do you think he blames me- you think he hates me?”

Yoonhee took a moment to really understand. “Oppa.. are you drinking? Where’s Minho?”

“He’s not here,” Jinki slurred, “He left.. I mean..” he changed his desperate tone to actual facts. “He’s at his parents..”

“Oppa..” Yoonhee sighed.

“I tried so hard..” Jinki cried, maybe the first time in front of Yoonhee outside of that hysterical day inside a hospital. He felt weak, looked weak. All his efforts seemed in vain- all of them since he could remember.

Yoonhee’s sweet, soft tone fall over him, “I know.. You always do, oppa. There’s no one else like you.”

Jinki sniffed and swiped a wet face, feeling a little better.

“Don’t worry. He’ll come back.”

Jinki couldn’t feel so sure, not with how heavy his guilt weighted him down that night.

Yoonhee stayed on the phone with Jinki after that, despite the late hour, urging him to stop drinking and lay down, and he listened, finally drifting off to some sort of peace.

Yoonhee was right though, because Minho did come back after the weekend, flinging his stuff around and settling a baby in her carrier. He still looked sad and tired though.

Jinki still worried Minho blamed him, and maybe more than ever, Jinki put his efforts into helping a friend for that reason – to make up for his broken promise.

______________

The door seemed to creak eerily as Jinki pulled it open and stepped into the dark apartment. He slowly removed shoes and stepped up into the familiar home, flicking lights on. In a nearby corner was still a stack of baby items Hyojin had been collecting while pregnant, some bought and others given as gifts. Some are gone now, taken by Jinki over to his place since the baby had come to stay there with Minho.

Jinki took a long glance around the rest of the apartment, finding it like he would expect Hyojin to wonder out with a sweet smile, hands on her baby belly, apologizing for the mess. The thought brought a small smile to Jinki’s lips.

He wished the woman really would wander out to see him. Maybe it would make Minho happy again then. 

Cats find Jinki, crying for attention, begging for food and care after having been left basically alone since Hyojin’s passing. 

“I got it..” Jinki said as cats nuzzled his legs. 

He stepped around the place, hurt aching a little more at each familiar sign of the woman having just been around not long ago or her with Minho in cute photos. Each step hurt a little more. That thought clawed at him again, the blame- he had been spending more time with Yoonhee instead, he hadn’t been their to keep her company like he had been doing, maybe if he had been she wouldn’t have left on her own, maybe--

On the fridge door was still the picture of his graduation with Hyojin, both of them smiling. Also was the picture of Hyojin’s ultrasound with scribbles and a happy face written on it. An upsetting memory crept back into his mind.

I’m so afraid to be a mother..

He turned away from the photos, bending pet the cats as they ate, showing some human affection towards them.

Jinki feed the cats and cleaned their area, on behalf of Minho. Then he left the lonely, sad home again, slowly shutting the door behind him, dreading his next visit.

______________

“Minho-ya…” Yoonhee cooed. “You’re a natural.”

Minho nearly shied away after doing the finishing touches on changing Jimin’s diaper, then fitting the little girl back into her onesie. “I guess it’s not as hard as I thought. My mom taught me.”

Yoonhee made a face at Jinki standing by and watching. “Oppa, your skill is so far off still.”

“All it takes is getting peed on once..” Jinki tried to defend himself. 

Minho was smiling, picking up the fussy baby girl in his arms, soothing her with a little chatter while Yoonhee still gave him a look. The woman was on maternal duty, showing the daddy ropes to Minho when he wasn’t at his parents house, getting the hammer from his own mother on how to care for her first grandchild.

“Hyung, really it’s not that hard,” Minho said like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Jinki frowned, feeling gained up on. He can’t help babies make him a bit nervous. She’s so tiny and frail and what if he broke the little thing? All that time with the pregnant Hyojin didn’t quite prepare him enough.

“At least do this much,” Yoonhee handed the dirty diaper over to Jinki, and Haengbogi nearly bounced round his feet, thinking it a toy. 

Jinki took his punishment in stride.

“I gotta go- work..” Yoonhee sighed, keys out of her bag. “Call me if you need anything.”

Minho looked a bit bewildered as Yoonhee left, like there went all his courage to be a parent with her out the door.

______________

While Minho actually slept one night, probably not even aware he drifted off, Jinki tucked his friend in by covering him in a blanket while he wiggled in his sleep over the couch, then he sat out to shuffle through a few of his old things until he found an old school album. It’s one from middle school, before he even met Minho. He opened the dusty thing, still disbelieving he hadn’t left it at his parents’ home with a few of his other old things, fingers flipping through pages of faces that barely looked familiar anymore until he landed on the one he was looking for.

Beside a smiling boy was a sad face Jinki scribbled long ago. Inside the book is an old memory Jinki had forgotten until now.

Head tilting, Jinki recalled the young boy, a classmate, one he wasn’t friends with because Jinki had few friends in school. Still, it was a boy he admired, a boy he wanted to be friends with. He was even kind of cute now that Jinki understood what that feeling he had back then meant.

Jinki remembered the time his desk was empty on a busy school day. It hadn’t meant much at first, only a small punishment for being late once he showed up, but Jinki had kept glancing at the door, hoping he would appear quickly.

The boy never did. 

It was later reported a road accident had happened; the boy and his mother passing away after their car was accidentally run off the road by hectic traffic.

Jinki had been so sad but all he knew how to express it was draw that silly little face that’s crying in a schoolbook beside a friend that never was.

Much like then, after the tragedy, life went on. 

Life continued on no matter what.

______________

One day Jinki sat down beside Minho, Yoonhee having stopped by and then taking the baby out with her so Jinki could just sit down with Minho, hoping for something positive out of it. It was silent a long time before Minho finally spoke openly to Jinki, maybe the first time since he returned.

“Why.. why does this keep happening to me?”

Jinki wasn’t sure what to say, other than crack in inappropriate joke about crappy luck. He stayed silent.

“I thought I had everything I could ever want.”

Jinki gave a small smile, one still full of sadness.

“But every time I just end up right back at you.”

The older turned to Minho, finding a deep gaze on him already, startling the man.

“What’s wrong with us?”

Jinki blinked, reading through Minho’s intense gaze that’s saying something deeper than just his mere words could reach. What is wrong with them? Why did it seem like fate was out to get them? How do they keep being mangled and twisted back together like some slingshot every time they try to separate? Really, what was wrong with them. “Minho..”

“What’s wrong with me? Is my life some sick joke?” His tone grew more careless, low but hysterical. “I was and now my wife is dead? What’s next?” 

“That’s not-” Minho didn’t allow Jinki to cut in.

“Did I not love her enough?” his voice rose now, eyes widening with a crazed look. “I was sure I did.”

“Of course you did. I never saw you so happy before,” Jinki insisted, though he really hadn’t seen much of Minho then, but surely what he had witnessed was a happy friend.

“I was but..” Minho’s head fell, words not explaining much but sounding like there was a heaviness Jinki couldn’t begin to understand, or maybe he could if Minho actually opened up to him. “I..” Minho dry lips. He didn’t finish that thought out loud.

After a long pause and calming period, Minho’s head shook. “I shouldn’t have asked her to marry me, we weren’t ready, it was stupid.”

“Minho,” Jinki’s stern tone arrived. “Don’t be like that. You did what you thought was right.”

Minho shifted in his seat, looking a bit like a kid put in his place, and in a lot of ways he still was a kid, and that’s what made this whole situation that much more frightening. Minho, with the trauma experienced at an age of still developing, damaged his mental growth. 

“She’s not really gone- not all the way, I mean, you have a beautiful little girl,” Jinki fumbled over his words, trying to help but also sounding like he wasn’t at the same time.

“She beautiful, isn’t she..” Minho said typical words of a new father, but there was no proud smile to give. His words seemed hollow.

Jinki nodded.

“I don’t know how to take care of her. I- look at me, I’m barely twenty-four, still haven’t graduated college, no job or home of my own. Where do I even start?”

“I want you to live here, with me,” Jinki blurted out. “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that. I want to help, and Yoonhee she wants to help- she’s been helping.”

Minho leaned into Jinki then, head on his shoulder. It’s the closet they’d been since Minho’s discharge, or even longer than that. It’s comforting and familiar, and Minho’s scent was still as overwhelming to his senses as ever.

“I just..” Minho took a heavy breath, “I don’t want to feel this- I don’t want to feel anything.”

Jinki waited around for a bit after that, but Minho remained silent, shutting off again. Jinki left the couch, giving space.

______________

After a long day with a checkup doctor appointment for the baby, which Yoonhee accompanied Minho to since Jinki had work, as well as drove him to it, it’s finally over and another night full of change has come. 

The baby had been put down for the night, Jinki was asleep in is room, and Minho sat out on the couch, up at late hours like usual. He sat in the darkness, fingers twisting the cheap, little wedding band still around his finger in the new habit he’s created. It’s anxiousness and sorrow. He played with it, thoughts on his wife. Thoughts on Hyojin.

“You better come back, you hear me?”

He was still confused, at a loss. How did this happen to him, hadn’t he hurt enough in his life. 

The numbing shock had been wearing off, that out of body experience he once felt full force as a teenager, and everything was beginning to sink in as reality. It’s real, there’s not going back- and that was possibly worse than anything. He once wanted to feel anything but numb, but now he longed for that nothingness.

It felt like punishment for something, or maybe fate trying to point him in the direction he’s supposed to go, but in the cruelest of ways, taking a loved one and leaving him alone to raise a child. Leaving him scared and full of responsibility on a level he’s never faced before. He had tried to take control of his life, make his own choices a year ago, but really he had no control of it. Again someone- something made a decision for him.

He missed Hyojin. 

When Minho laid down at night, it didn’t feel right knowing he wouldn’t ever again wake up beside her in the morning, see her sweet smile, feel her gentle touch. Once he actually began to fit into a routine of life, it was yanked away from him, time as a husband so short lived, not even getting a change to own up to being a good one either.

He felt so worthless as man all over again, sinking into every inch of his being.

Minho had wanted out of his mandatory service so badly the longer it dragged on, wanting to get home, exhausted by the atmosphere and what it did to him mentally, and lesser, physically. Nights would come, in bed after visiting the bathroom to throw up a meal that didn’t want to stay down, trying to find sleep, thinking about all the possible ways he could be discharged, how nice - ignoring how bad of a solider such thoughts made him look, how weak.

He hadn’t imagined it would be reasons like this though. It never crossed his mind.

When he found out the two were going to have a baby, he was worried, anxiety and stress through the roof, but Hyojin’s happiness gradually reassured him, and he grew some excitement at the idea of them as a family, that odd and worried feeling of relief being away from home turning away again, sure he would return to true happiness. But now he was left alone. No true happiness, nothing happy at all. Now he wasn’t sure he wanted a baby but he’s got one on his hands anyway. 

How horrible was that thought?

He wasn’t there for the pregnancy, not there for the birth, there wasn’t that connection there, no bond. No, instead a small being just into his arms, one he hardly knew, just told he’s a father and looked at with a heavy responsibly he didn’t prepare for.

How awful was he?

He shouldn’t have gotten married, he should have listened to his parents’ concerns over it instead of brushing it off like he knew best, he should have done something- anything else. 

This wasn’t supposed to be his life.

This wasn’t supposed to be is life since the night a dumb kid drunkenly let a stranger in an unfamiliar town lead him to a secluded area alone.

Minho burned and twisted inwardly with a hatred he hadn’t felt in a long while. He knew exactly who he hated most right now.

With a heavy sigh, Minho stood from the couch, feet carrying a wobbly body that didn’t even feel his own, something hollow-like, the small distance across the room. He slides open the paper thin door sectioning off the small one bedroom apartment’s living area into two, taking a peek in on Jimin, finding her still asleep at the late hour and he’s thankful for that. Then he peeked in on Jinki in the bedroom, finding him just as he usually slept, blankets half-off his body and twisted in sheets. Minho glanced back at the lonely couch then pushed Jinki’s door open wide enough to slip a skinny little figure into the bedroom. 

He crawled into bed beside Jinki, hoping he could find sleep that night there. In Jinki’s sleep, he snuggled up beside Minho, groaning. 

Minho blinked wide eyes, tensed still. He slowly brushed fingers through Jinki’s hair, relaxing into a smile, finding a comfortable position to try and sleep.

Jinki’s bed was always warm and comforting, something like a home he really missed.

Minho still suffered from awful nightmares, some that still left him waking in the night in panics, and a wife had been horrible startled by that fact once the married couple lived under the same roof. Those intense dreams would fade some times; go weeks, maybe months, without the waking terrors. Until one night he would eventually wake with a shout and panic, frightening Hyojin as she was looked at like Minho didn’t even know her.

New trauma in his life though only caused them to resurface, but now they had shifted to a new horror, him unable to save Hyojin no matter what he did in trying to reach her. 

That night, not long after slipping into Jinki’s bed and drifting to sleep, he woke from one of those nightmares, first one intense enough he screamed and woke Jinki for the first time with a nightmare since Minho returned home.

Jinki seemed startled by Minho even in his bed, before grabbing hold of him in a hug from behind. Breaths were short and rigged, and tears fell again as he relaxed, realizing where he really was; only in Jinki’s home, in Jinki’s bed, in Jinki’s supportive, protecting hold.

Minho settled out of the terror again, still exhausted, still embarrassed. Jinki hummed, half-asleep again, so familiar with Minho’s waking nights.

He choked on a hiccuping sob behind his hand, “I’m so sorry..” apologizing, but not sure whom to.

It’s almost a joke, how that’s all he’s said now for years to anyone, everyone. 

Minho still carried a deeply seeded self-blame he couldn’t quite escape, and it morphed and slithered into every aspect of his life until he couldn’t see anything else.

______________

“I don’t know how to be a father..” Minho’s tone rang back to those childhood days of sulking and pouting at almost anything. “I just.. I don’t..”

Jinki leaned against Minho, both sitting on the couch, infant asleep in the small baby crib right across the room. They both were tired, for some of the same reasons and not the same at all.

“I’m sure that’s what every dad says,” Jinki tired to make Minho laugh, and it worked, even if only a little bit. After a laugh, his tone dropped to a serious place. “I’ve seen you with her, you’re good to her. Remember when I found you crying on that field?” he smiled at the memory, “Because you were disappointed and though you weren’t good enough, even still a little kid. But look, you succeed in soccer.”

“Not as good as my brother though,” Minho mumbled, showing still that childish bitterness, much more open to vocally putting himself down than the kid that would put on a proud grin and swear over and over again he would catch up to the shadow of an over-achieving older brother. It’s still an unsettling personality difference.

“Stop that. I’m being serious right now.”

Minho stayed quite and listened.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you’ll be a good parent. You are one, already.”

They sat in the silence for a bit, then Minho leaned in to kiss Jinki’s head in a gesture of gratitude.

As the baby began to wake with fussing, Minho sighed, then got up, being the good father Jinki knew Minho would be. When Minho couldn’t find the optimism he used to be so good at, brushing it off on a teenage Jinki, then Jinki would give it instead.

Minho held Jimin, and even with nervousness, it was tender and loving.

______________

Minho hid under a cap and jacket, despite warm weather coming on. He was alone, out if not only to get some space from the tiny apartment and a crying baby that could make him want to claw his ears off. Jimin was left in Jinki’s care, leaving without much to say other than he was going out, that he would be back.

He waited at a bus stop, one crowding. It was peaceful, something non-panic rising about him taking a bus. It was just the other day he begged Jinki not to take the bus to work, pit of his stomach threatening some sort of anxiety attack until Jinki said he would find another way. Minho waiting at the bus stop it was different.

When the bus arrived, steps onboard were heavy, grip on each seat he passed tight. It’s what bus rides had been like since he got home, thoughts of the bus swerving, tipping over, rolling- of a bus smashing into something until it was mangled unrecognizable.

He though of Hyojin left alone in all that, no one there for her, no one to hold her hand.

Minho took a seat, gazing out the window, reminded of all the times he’s taken a bus ride in his life and nothing bad had ever happened.

Maybe more than anything he hoped this aimless bus ride would end in just as much of a tragedy. Maybe swerve off a road and roll down a hill until he was dead.

Minho tapped the window with a finger, subconscious smile widening at morbid thoughts.

An hour later Minho returned to the apartment, not dead, no tragic bus crash.

It seemed so unfair. 

Jinki smiled at Minho though, welcoming him home. It seemed to mean something; a gentle nudge to a part buried too deep inside Minho.

______________

Jinki returned home, cell dropped to his pocket after an ended call with Yoonhee who asked about bring the baby home. He pulled the apartment door open to step into a smelly darkness. The air was unexpectedly thick with alcohol.

Jinki kicked off shoes and dropped his bag while Haengbogi was the only one to greet him at the door. He stepped up into the apartment, turning the corner to find Minho sprawled out on the couch and bottles of alcohol he recalled buying weeks ago emptied over the floor. 

“Minho?”

There was no response. Jinki’s reflexes kicked in fast to a scene that looked like death itself. Heart racing, he jerked on Minho, forcing his head out from a pillow by his hair. “Minho,” he said firmly, not going to move until big eyes opened and responded to him.

The whole moment was slow, Minho’s motor skills impaired, like he didn’t even notice Jinki’s firm tug on his short, messy hair. It’s so obvious he’s drunk. Really drunk.

“Eh..ahh..”

“Is this how you spent the day?”

Minho looked up at Jinki, eyes widening a bit, appearing lost and as if he didn’t recognize Jinki. At least knowing Minho was still alive, Jinki released his hold on Minho, allowing him to snuggle back into the couch and hopefully sleep off what he’s done.

Jinki stood in the middle of a mess, glancing at curtains drawn still though the sun was out that day. He tripped over rolling bottles scattering the floors of a messy apartment, voice a frustrated growl. Though he’s not sure why he’s angry when his first thought was Minho was gone too – he had just stepped into find his friend dead. There’s relief in that, so much.

Finding his cell, Jinki called Yoonhee requesting she keep the baby a little longer, that Minho wasn’t feeling well.

With that, Jinki went on to shower and prepare a simple cup of noodles for dinner in kitchen that was nearly torn apart to find where Jinki stashed his alcohol in an apartment Minho was unfamiliar with. He’s left in the quite of his home while Minho slept in grunts and mumbles.

A day later, Jinki returned home to a similar scene. This time, once Minho sobered up and showered, baby returned by Yoonhee to sleep in her crib, Jinki confronted him.

“Yoonhee isn’t here to take the baby off your hands so you can drink all day and sleep it off. You can’t keep doing this.” 

And Jinki wouldn’t allow Minho to use Yoonhee like that. His eyes narrow a bit, upset Minho would even do that to her, subconsciously or not, taking advantage of someone who wanted to help, who had only shown kindness in giving her time to guide Minho through the beginnings of fatherhood.

Minho’s still aching, in more ways than one, but his headache is the most immediate. His speech was still slurred more than it normally was. “Don’t tell me.. -to do.”

“Drinking isn’t going to make it better,” Jinki’s tone rose, and that guilt he felt for everything was overshadowed this day. He pressed hard at Minho. Minho had always been held to a higher standard than Jinki held himself, and that’s only because he loved him so much. While Jinki might drink himself miserably Minho wasn’t allowed to because he was better than Jinki, at least in Jinki’s mind.

“Don’t say that to me..” Minho rubbed his head, eyes scrunched with sudden dampness. His voice dropped, but it was still heard and still struck Jinki right at the core of his guilt. “Not you..”

Frustrated with his efforts and tired himself, Jinki added, “It’s not going to bring her back.”

“Don’t say that!”

Minho lashed out then in a loss of control, grabbing hold of Jinki in fists full of his shirt and backing the shorter up into a wall hard enough it knocked the air out of Jinki. Head lifting, Jinki found Minho’s eyes narrowed with a glint barely familiar. Something dark that Jinki hadn’t seen in a long time, but Jinki wasn’t afraid. He stood up to it now like he stood up to it then, those nights of drunken fights in his home years before both coming out bruised and unsure why they were even fighting each other. But as soon as that look was there, it was gone. Big eyes widened, still wet and softening with confusion. Minho released Jinki, stumbling back a few steps.

“I’m sorry.. I didn’t..”

Jinki swiped his crinkled top down with a deep breath and was cautious in gently patting a hand to Minho’s arm as tried to smile. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk about this later.”

Minho nodded, hands scrapping through damp hair and breath released in a heavy sigh. He fumbled back to his bed – the uncomfortable couch, curling up long skinny limbs over a couch too short for his frame.

As Jinki left for his bedroom, he stopped to slide open the door separating the living room from the baby, finding Jimin fussing over Minho’s noisy outburst. He sighed, tired, but stepping in to check on the baby, trying to coo her into sleep again because Minho certainly couldn’t right now. Luckily it doesn’t take much effort for her to settle down. Jinki stepped back out sliding the door closed behind him. Minho still laid in the same position, groaning and muttering, looking a mess even if showered.

Jinki left for his room, head hung, really unsure of how they’re going to make it through this. He lost a little of the hope he clung that day, flag he said he wouldn’t hang slipping

In the morning Jinki woke to some ruckus nearly as loud as a crying baby in the nights. He found Minho in the kitchen dumping bottles of alcohol down the sink’s drain.

“What are you doing?”

Without turning to Jinki, Minho answered, “I’m getting rid of it- all of it. I don’t want to be.. that.”

That being a drunk? That being whoever it was Jinki had seen in Minho’s eyes before? That being someone who was in denial that his wife wasn’t coming back? That being someone who refuses to care for their child even if the task was rough and daunting?

Jinki’s not sure what ‘that’ meant, but it sounded like progress over what he worried about last night. He watched as Minho did the work, showing a grown and matured side Jinki was still unfamiliar with, taking the step without Jinki needing to force it to be done. Jinki was upset to see such good alcohol go to waste, especially one his earnings, but if it meant relieve for Minho, if it was a symbol of moving forward, Jinki was willing the price. It’s something he’s not sure Minho could have done himself two years ago.

Minho turned to look back at Jinki while setting an emptied bottle down, smile genuine and tired, droopy eyes flickering with some sort of life again.

Maybe this was the true beginning.

______________

“You’re so pretty..” Minho said while holding Jimin, up in the night with her, which wasn’t very hard when he couldn’t sleep well most nights. “Just like your mom.”  

A part of Kim Hyojin still lived because of a pretty little baby.

Minho smiled, wide and genuine, first time he really realized he was smiling because of the baby in his arms. It’s half-sad of a realization because he should always smile when holding her. She’s precious and not at any fault for what had happened.

He tried to be as gentle as he could in arms that nearly shook, brushing her cheek soft with his finger and beaming some tinkles of fatherly pride.

The baby soon fuzzed and wiggled, until it grew into loud crying that Minho couldn’t easily sooth away. Nerves unraveled, bloodshot eyes widening. 

Minho wasn’t smiling anymore.

It cracked again.

______________

It’s several days after Minho poured all the alcohol in the apartment down the kitchen drain, trying to be protective in fixing himself like Hyojin taught him- most off all not wanting to hurt anyone, not after slamming into Jinki like he had. He had done enough fighting during his service and it never ended up satisfying. It was pitiful, much like his less-than-proud soldiering he refused to talk about because he was still ashamed of it.

Maybe more than anyone he didn’t want to hurt Jinki, for some reason. The dark thought was too much to bear.

Minho now sat antsy but with a new resolve not to take what he was feeling to drinks. Instead he held in his hands a photo album Jinki had explained Hyojin made for him and the baby. He had found it siting out at his home when he had visited it a week ago, lingering around the sad place that wasn’t really a home anymore, while Jinki stood near the entry, not coming in. 

Now sitting alone at Jinki’s place, looking the album over, touching it, it made him smile. But the smile turned into a sad sob and he was glad no one but a sleeping infant and a little dog were around to watch him cry. He didn’t have to cry when he was drunk, he didn’t have to feel as intensely as he did sober, and he looked to the kitchen, hoping he would magically see a bottle he could gulp down and go back to a numbing, sleepy buzz all day. There were bottles, but those for an infant, another reminder he needed to be stronger.

His fist suddenly hit the wood floor hard; a familiar jolt of forced pain taking his mind of something he didn’t want to face.

Haengbogi jumped down from the couch beside Minho, nudging him until she could lay her head to his thigh, settling herself down there as comfort to a human in distress.

Minho had a weak smile for her, sniffing and wiping his red face. He gently pet her, calming down and feeling better despite the shame of crying, because men shouldn’t cry over anything, or so society taught him.

He opened the photo album, looking through empty pages done in cute crafting. Minho noticed though that some thing was different about parts of it. Inspecting it closer, glancing over some small doodles, Minho realized it was Jinki’s work. Jinki had partaken in making the album but didn’t mention it. Minho smiled wider at that, charmed by Jinki’s work and it so like him not to say anything about it, even possibly embarrassed by it.

Beside Minho were some photos of Jimin - some by herself, some with family, some with him, and a particularly sweet one of her and Yoonhee. The woman had taken most the pictures for Minho and handed them over in an envelope while returning Jimin that day. 

Not one of Jimin with her mother though. 

Minho’s smile faltered at that realization, palms gentle in running over the photo album in his lap.

A shaking hand wrote ‘Choi Jimin’ on the front of the album, eyes narrowed in concentration and deep sigh relieving what he held in a long moment.

So while Jinki was getting home late from work, instead of him having to come home to a pitifully drunk Minho, he sat and wiped his wet face, placing pictures into the album and scribbling down notes on tags beneath them to match the cute theme of the album.

It made Minho feel slightly whole again, at least as whole as he had become accustomed to. He hasn’t been really whole in years and probably wouldn’t recognize it if it happened.

______________

Minho had Jimin in his lap, using a bulb syringe to clean a stuffy nasal passage very carefully. His hand was much steadier with care for the child since the alcohol left the home and it wasn’t an easy means to run away from something frightening. Haengbogi sat at attention, thinking it was a toy for her to get her teeth on. Minho nudged the dog with a foot, telling her it’s not her toy.

Jinki nearly smiled, finding Minho holding the baby like he could possibly break her quite endearing. Not that he could talk, since he was afraid in the same way, though it must be somewhat different when its your own child. With a few weeks, Minho’s unstable moods seemed to be evening out. But like today, the visible linger of it showed. He carried the child with a confidence he had been lacking before though, looking more like the guy Jinki had once said was good with kids.

“She’s so tiny.. I don’t want to hurt her..”

“You’re doing good.”

“How do you know? Have you had a baby?”

Jinki blinked wide eyes. Minho was still a bit hostile, for many reasons. Jinki tried to avoided the mines if he could.

“Sorry.. I just..” his head shook, baby held in stiff hold, fixing little mitts over tiny hands. Minho’s apology showed some really maturity on his part.  “I’m still worried..” he meant afraid, but couldn’t say.

“We’re all here to help, you know?”

Minho let out a high sigh, voice trying to hold back how really overwhelmed he was but failing. “I don’t know if I can really do this..”

“You can. I have all the faith in you.” Jinki smiled, assuring.

Minho relaxed some then, posture even easing. “At least someone thinks I can.”

Jinki clapped a hand over Minho’s shoulder, strong and supportive.

“Whatever I do..” Minho spoke quietly, as if only to himself, gently touching the baby. “I have to give this child the family life Hyojin wanted.”

Jinki’s eyes dart away, reminded of that sad moment when Hyojin confessed of her family life- confessed only to him, never told Minho, never got the chance to. Jinki glanced back at Minho. He decided it best not to say anything about that. What could it change now? Nothing.

In a short time Minho made a face. “Oh no.. I think she pooped again..”

Jinki backed away quickly, hands up, silently saying ‘that’s all you, man.. go forth in the faith.’

Minho gave a pitiful look before it up and heading for the changing table. He stood taller after the little man to man pep talk.

______________

Jinki stepped into his home, late in returning after another night of obligated drinks out with co-workers, also being the one left pouring most the drinks for everyone with his low ranking around the office. He’s a little tipsy, so he thought maybe the smell of clean was in his head.

No. Bag dropped, shoes kicked off and slippers slid on, Jinki steps up into a home that looks cleaned top to bottom and Minho still scrubbing a stain on the floor of the main room as a baby was wiggling in her crib behind a sliding door left half-opened.

“Minho-ya?”

The young man looked up, damp brow swept and hair wrapped back in a cloth. He’s smiling, one that reaches his big eyes - a sort Jinki hadn’t seen for a while and only realized now because he’s seeing it again now.

“What do you think of the place?”

“I.. uh..” Jinki rubbed his neck, glancing around. There’s a corner where most belongings are still stacked while the apparent cleansing had been taking place. “I don’ think it’s been this clean since.. well ever?” Jinki giggled a laugh. It made Minho laugh a little too.

“It still needs work,” Minho looked around, voice dropping a bit heavier, “Lots of work.”

Jinki brushed it off, happy to see something positive and getting a clean home out of it. Jinki crashed into bed early that night, unaware Minho was up late into the night cleaning, mostly still focused on an old stain, one from before Jinki even moved in, that just wouldn’t come off the wood floors.

______________

When Jinki had told Minho to move in with him a couple weeks ago, he didn’t expect his place to turn into a home of two adult males, one little baby girl, their dog Haengbogi, and two cats that Minho would not let go of no matter what Jinki said. Minho again explained the three lived fine together after he moved in with Hyojin after their wedding, before Jinki returned home and Haengbogi was given back. 

“Why did you give me Haengbogi back?” Jinki had asked, dog in his lap because he was the favorite human now.

“Because I didn’t want you to be lonely, I just.. yeah..” Minho explained.

Jinki was beyond what he would call lonely during those times, but really Haengbogi’s presence had helped even if he hadn’t realized it at the time. Minho had still tried to look out for him back then while Jinki didn’t realize it. He felt foolish now not seeing it back then.

Jinki’s tiny, one bedroom apartment was so full he and Minho shared a room, even a bed some nights. Jinki’s not sure how graduating university and getting a legitimate job had paid these bills. Minho worked a bit when he could, but mostly small side jobs- ones he could keep, and he still hadn’t re-enrolled in classes yet, even at Jinki’s pushing for his education. 

“I can’t go back to school right now, I have all these kids..” Minho had said once as his own argument, pointing to pets as well as a baby in his arms. He smiled weakly, like he knew is joke was a little flat and Jinki wasn’t laughing either.

Before Jinki could argue his point further, Minho leaned in to kiss his cheek. 

“I’ll take care of you too.” 

It was a tease, but it only scrapped at Jinki’s buried desires for something so much more. It would get Jinki do drop it, walk away back to work and leave Minho’s education on the back burner once more.

Minho was good at keeping the home clean, but it was a bit obsessively so, something like a formed habit beyond when he used to just be a tidy person, a newfound need to scrub everything clean, then scrub it again, like the home was never quite clean enough. Especially if he got fired from a job, then Minho would be home scrubbing the place from top to bottom.

Jinki wouldn’t argue Minho’s income didn’t helped with bills, and who wouldn’t have thought a baby was so expensive. At least they didn’t have to pay for a sitter. Yoonhee’s closest on hand, and if not her then Minho’s family was or, even Jinki’s own parents. His mother gushed about the baby, still prying for Jinki to settle down and get to baby making. But then this child seemed to appease her most days.

It would take a while, but they would eventually settled into some form of ‘normalcy’. It almost seemed like this was meant to be, but Jinki wouldn’t dare say that around Minho. Yoonhee gave a few knowing glances some days, but then Jinki would get her alone and kiss her breathless, and her place was still some sort of escape, some visits spending the night after drinks and .

Minho would give him the eye when he came home in the same work clothes after being dropped off by Yoonhee, smile a little cheeky, and sometimes breakfast would be made, enough for him as well, because despite whatever happened, Jinki always came back – back to Minho, and maybe the younger was realizing that now.

One day Minho held the baby in one arm, other handing Jinki his food, looking just as disheveled as the older though his night was consistent of up and down baby care and not pleasurable, stress relieving .

Jinki bowed gratefully.

______________

Minho appeared ready to pull his hair out, bouncing a crying baby in his arms, expression full of distress as he searched the baby’s little red face for some sort of sigh that would tell him what to fix and how to fix it. All that work at a daycare center doing deskwork still hadn’t prepared him for parenthood.

“She won’t stop crying..”

Minho’s tired, glazed over stare looked on the verge of tears. 

“Should I call your mom or..” Jinki offered, “Uh.. I’ll call Yoonhee.”

Once Yoonhee arrived, the baby was still crying, and even Minho shed a few tears himself, face red still. Jinki looked like he had a terrible headache, and it was accurate.

“Let me try..” Yoonhee took Jimin into her arms, bouncing and trying to sooth with her pretty voice, giving that womanly touch maybe the baby needed. It helped some, but what really did it was when the baby threw up all over her shoulder. The crying nearly ceased then.

“I am.. really sorry.” Minho took the baby handed back to him blinking wide eyes.

Yoonhee smiled, but it was forced and showed some upset, which was understandable, being she came over only to be thrown up on. 

“Oppa, can I barrow a shirt?”

Forehead rubbed, Jinki nodded telling her to help herself to his clothing. Once she left the room, the two men looked at each other.

“Well.. that seemed to have worked,” Jinki said.

Minho rubbed the baby’s back, holding her gently as she settled down. “Yeah..”

Parenthood wasn’t as easy is it looked, no matter how one rolled the dice.

______________

“Hyung, how do you bathe a baby this small? Yoonhee noona usually does it..” he sniffed the baby. “She still smells like pee..”

Jinki looked thoughtful, then glanced at Haengbogi playing with a chew toy nearby. “Like a dog?” he recalled bathing their tiny dog.

Minho looked suddenly very upset. “Forget I asked.” He wondered of to the back bedroom, baby in arm as he mumbled, “I’m calling my mom.”

Jinki watched Minho leave, recalling an old memory he’d forgotten of Minho with a baby cousin and how sweet he had been with the child even at fifteen. That baby also smelled like pee, or so Minho informed Jinki at the time, sniffing all over with a crinkled nose like the child was suddenly some sort of food - smelly food. Jinki was too afraid to even touch the child.

Jinki was sure calling a mother was a far better idea than asking him on how to care for a baby. He went back to loudly typing on his laptop, work due in a few days, and he’s double screwed if he failed to hand it in on time.

A cat rubbed up against Jinki’s legs and he sighed, head shaking.

______________

“You’re back.. early.” Jinki returned home, door closing behind him, Jimin held in her carrier at his side after picking her up from being sat by Minho’s mother. Minho wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour at least- he was supposed to be a work.  

“I got let go-” Minho sighed,” Fired.” He went to back to furiously scrubbing a table on his knees, possibly ruining it with the over-cleaning. Jinki set Jimin down in her carrier at the table, trying to interrupt Minho.

“It’s fine really. I have enough money.”

“You shouldn’t pay for everything. Especially me.” Minho scrubbed around the baby.

“Minho-”

“I’ll get another job, there’s plenty around, you’ll see.”

Minho sill focused solely on cleaning, Jinki bent over to tap his head. “Minho.. feed the baby.”

Minho looked up, blinking wide eyes, like he didn’t even realize she was there. “Ah.. yeah.”

Jinki left for a shower, in what would undoubtedly be a sparkly clean bathroom, glancing back as Minho stumbled around the kitchen, looking frazzled. He sighed because this was what his life was now- this is what their life was.

______________

Minho smiled and laughed at hearing some dumb joke his brother made. He couldn’t be around much in person, but he made sure to more than ever make calls over the computer on face chats. So Minho sat with his computer close Jimin in is arms wrapped up in a blanket as they talked. 

It was good to feel, as well as see, the support from family. They’ve always supported him even when he didn’t fully see it or feel worthy of it - even when he made bad choices, as it was known they disagreed with him, yet they still didn’t toss him aside. Minho somehow felt better about everything when he could see his brother again. His worries ceased for a few minutes.

When Jimin made a little fussy noise, Minseok waved, though she couldn’t see it, and talked to her as an uncle.

“Hyung, when you coming to see me again?”

“Soon, I promise. I’ve just got a lot of work.” 

Suddenly Jinki’s face was in camera shot behind Minho, surprising them both. He made finger signs and smiled. 

“Minseok-hyung!”

Minho looked up at Jinki with wide eyes. “Shh..”

Jinki cringed, spotting the baby in Minho’s arms. Minseok laughed immaturely, looking as exhausted as they were these days. Once the three thought being teenagers was the toughest of it all, but how wrong were they.

______________

At some point Minho had fallen asleep beside Jinki in his bed, so worn out that Jinki was first to wake to the cries in the night. He nudged Minho sleeping on his stomach beside him, voice croaky as he said the baby was crying.

Minho was in his dead-sleep mode, barely functioning, giving slappy hands at anything Jinki tried to get him up. With a sigh, Jinki got up himself, it being countless time doing the baby night thing, and he’s actually gotten to be okay at it, even if still a little fearful. He was better at it than diapers. 

Jinki stumbled around a kitchen for a bottle of formula, Haengbogi following his ever move. He’s so tired again by the time he’s picking Jimin up, trying to sooth her cries with a soft hum and gentle pats to her back as he bounced on his feet, then a warm battle was offered. He sat on the floor head hung, baby eating and dog trying to fit in his lap too.

Jinki nodded off a few times before getting Jimin back to bed, sleeping peacefully. His hand rested on her tiny warm body, moving with the rise and fall of small breaths. She was such a pretty little baby, Jinki thought. 

Even if it was hard to understand or acknowledge, his moments with her really were rewarding. He thought back on his time with Hyojin, that hospital visit when he first met Jimin on that tiny screen still growing inside of Hyojin. It was wroth it, his time with Hyojin, those tortuous pregnancy classes, to bring this little baby into the world – and it still wasn’t fair the baby’s mother wasn’t here to look after her instead of Jinki.

Once Jinki fell back into bed, Minho moved closer, practically clinging to him, voice full of slurry sleep. 

“Thank you..”

Jinki smiled at being appreciated, and he fell back in a drifting sleep until Minho woke in the night this time and not to any cries in the home but his own. Jinki tried to sooth another back to sleep before the sun rose and he would be exhausted at work another day.

______________

Minho was cleaning up quickly made breakfast, looking a mess with so little sleep last night. Jinki, at least a little more rested since he didn’t have to get up to tend to the baby, pulled on a jacket and shoes, readying to leave for work after eating most the breakfast, though Minho had been eating more lately, and that was its own blessing.

Minho peeked at the entry where Jinki was, wet hands swiped on an apron. His voice was small but at least not on the verge of panic like days before. “You’re not taking a bus are you?”

Jinki bit a frown, turning back with a forced smile and crinkled eyes. “No. I’ll get a different ride.”

Minho smiled, tense shoulders giving and puffy eyes blinking slowly. “Come home.”

Jinki nodded, “I will,” and left to the sounds of a baby fussing and Minho’s nervous gaze on him. 

On the bus ride, one he lied about, Jinki was trying to help to be accommodating to Minho’s fear, but he also had to get to work and by bus was the cheapest while he was still saving up for a car, which he should soon be able to buy.

He sent out a silent apology.

---

long story short: I thought a lot about the muses and the course of this story and this is the road I felt I had to take out of the options I had. I hope it’s still an enjoyable read. Thank you to those of you who have stuck around so far.

- southpaw