Monday, April 16, 2015

Dear Completely Empty Diary,

Well . . . not really anymore, but—Whatever.

So, the doctor gave you to me today and told me to write down my thoughts. It's supposed to help me regain my mobility or something but I'm not sure if it's doing much 'cause my handwriting .

Don't you feel the stray scratches?

Anyway, so far these thoughts of mine have been random and it's kind of hard to put them into coherent (did I spell that right?) sentences. I feel like my brain is going in slow motion like, is this the right spelling? What word should go next?

It's depressing in a way, but oh well. At least I can feel depressed while being awake.

Hopefully, though, I can become normal again.

Thought #1: Last week, I woke up. Today, Dear Diary, I stood next to him. I breathed him in. I held his hand in mine.

I feel amazing.

Yours Truly,

~Donghae

~*.*~

Hyukjae pressed his back up against the white wall and released a sigh through his nostrils, still feeling relief and happiness, though still feeling on edge. Not because of the worries he constantly had with Donghae's health, not quite, but because they weren't at all alone in the room.

Forty minutes, maybe, had passed between the time Hyukjae arrived at Donghae's hospital room, crying, relieved, and sweaty, and the time Donghae's family walked into the room, equally out of it but also undoubtedly confused by Hyukjae's presence.

It was, perhaps, the most awkward moment of Hyukjae's life.

Now, he kept his distance from the family joyfully weeping at the hospital bed and wondered if his presence was acceptable at the moment. True, he's 'been' with Donghae for the past six months, but they were his family; he felt he had no right infringing upon their time and privacy. After only six months, he wasn't as permanent as they were in his life.

Hyukjae swallowed thickly and kicked himself away from the wall with little energy. He thought he'd go give little Nina a visit, put a smile on his face and maybe clear his conscience a little.

“Where are you going?”

Not only the abruptness but the voice alone made his heart jump in his chest. He hadn't even realized that Donghae was paying attention to him from the bed all along, even as his family members' bodies basically obstructed his view.

Hyukjae turned around slowly. Donghae and his entire family were staring intently at him. He swallowed again, throat suddenly feeling very dry. “I-I, uh. . . I was going to—”

“Are you leaving?” Donghae demanded, eyes b with worry, causing Hyukjae to realize at once that he liked that look even less on Donghae in person.

Shaking his head super slowly, Hyukjae responded with, “No, not yet. I was just going to—”

“Don't leave.” Donghae insisted, voice suddenly going very quiet, “Please stay. . . Okay?” His speech still left his mouth very slowly, but his voice was much stronger than earlier. It was such a beautiful sound, Hyukjae realized.

But somehow, it made his heart hurt in a way that it shouldn't have. He thought of, suddenly, how different Donghae's voice sounded while pleading than it did when they were younger, how that time still remained the most dominant memory he had of Donghae, even now.

Both he and Donghae noted how his voice shuddered when he breathed in next. He shook his head ever so slightly, “I think. . . I should leave and, uh, let you guys. . .” He lost his words and simply gestured at the group before swallowing again, “I'll come back tomorrow, Hae.”

From his spot on the bed, Donghae was fiercely shaking his head. Hyukjae could tell he was forcing back tears but couldn't very well understand why—Donghae knew he was coming back tomorrow, didn't he? Today, though, Hyukjae felt he had to get away, from Donghae and the family he felt immensely sorry to. So he backed up towards the door and prepared to leave, visit Nina first, then go home.

But an unfamiliar voice stopped him the second time. “Don't do that.” It demanded of him, and Hyukjae stopped cold to wait for a young girl about his and Donghae's age, maybe, glaring at him as if he were an enemy to say something more. “I don't know you, but I can tell Hae cares for you. As a friend, at least. Don't just push him away like that.”

“But I wasn't. . . I just said that I'll come back tomorrow—”

“Stay.” She tightened her hands into fists. “Please,” she forced out, “stay.”

But I don't belong here. . .

Hyukjae stuck his hands in his front pockets stiffly and dropped his gaze to the marble floor. He was building a wall between the close knit family because he felt too guilty to stop it.

I can't be here.

A couple seconds of silence passed, “We didn't mean to make you feel awkward or. . . out of place. We can just tell that our Donghae wants you here.” Hyukjae only remained silent still, thus the woman he assumed was Donghae's mother continued, “Would you, say, like to take Donghae outside? The doctor said it would do him some good to have some sunlight and fresh air after that nap he had before. . . Of course, you don't have to if you'd rather not.”

In secret, Hyukjae would 'rather not', but one glance upward at Donghae from where he stood and he gave in quickly. The orange-blonde haired boy looked as though he would crack if Hyukjae refused, and Hyukjae knew he couldn't live with the added guilt.

So, he nodded a bit, “Okay,” he said.

Donghae shivered, goosebumps riding down his back just moments after he and Hyukjae exited the building and entered the garden balcony on the second floor.

It was bright out, brighter than he was used to considering he'd been 'asleep' for six months, and he found it a bit hard to adjust to. He squinted and rose his feeble hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, grunting irritably with the amount of effort it took to do something so trivial. Though he welcomed the discomfort heartily.

For the first time in months, he was breathing fresh air, hearing natural sounds, and feeling the sun warm his body. With wide eyes he took in the sights around him and remembered the sight of a sunflower as much as he did the smell. The cyan blue sky sought all of him and he desired the ability to reach up and graze a finger along it.

In this moment, Donghae knew he was alive. Simple words to describe how incredible he felt couldn't do him justice.

Donghae took in a deep breath; sighed, “I'm so. . . I . . . the world. . .” He couldn't get his thoughts together.

“It's overwhelming, isn't it?” Hyukjae's voice floated down from behind him, “How beautiful the world can be.”

Donghae nodded, “Amazing.”

Silence broke in between them and Donghae was allowed the time to listen to the city's action. Try as he might, he couldn't stop the tears from coming, he was truly overjoyed.

To think that his life had become a miracle.

“Are you crying?” Hyukjae asked, clearly having heard a sniffle.

“Yes.” Donghae admitted and Hyukjae laughed a short, hardly humored laugh that didn't go unnoticed. Donghae winced.

It was hard, but Donghae turned his neck to look up at Hyukjae, “Come here.” He demanded, wiping the tears from his face, “In front of me.” Though puzzled, Hyukjae did as he was told and carefully knelt down before Donghae's wheelchair where Donghae gently cupped both of Hyukjae's cheeks in his thin hands.

No words were exchanged as Donghae looked his fill of Hyukjae's face, mesmerized by the close capture of the boy he'd been limited to seeing through a stiff reflection day by day. And those eyes. . . Those eyes were as expressive, so guilty and sad as they were the very first time he saw them.

They made Donghae frown.

“Don't laugh when you're not even happy. I can tell.”

Hyukjae rolled his eyes, “Way to ruin the mood.”

“You ruined it first.”

Since there was no point in denying it, Hyukjae picked up Donghae's left hand and slowly played with his fingers. He absently traced hearts and circles along the surface of his hand and around to the palm, then with a sigh replaced Donghae's hand on his face and closed his eyes.

“Do they know?” He asked suddenly and Donghae knew immediately about just what, though he took too long to respond.

Before he even began to nod, Hyukjae knew the answer and carefully dropped his forehead into Donghae's lap. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled and Donghae massaged his cheek.

“I know. . . But it was ten years ago and it's not your fault.”

Hyukjae shook his head fiercely as Donghae finished his sentence, got up with a strange abruptness and was back at the handles of Donghae's wheelchair within seconds. “I have a little friend I want you to meet.”

“Hyuk.”

Hyukjae was already wheeling Donghae around to face the entrance, “She's super cute, her name is Nina, and—”

“Hyukjae, stop.”

Hyukjae slowed his movements, but he didn't stop. He pushed Donghae into the air conditioned hospital once more and started down the corridor.

“Please, Hae. . . I think you'll love her.” There was a hint of true begging in Hyukjae's voice that Donghae couldn't possibly ignore; and so he gave in.

It was a harsh reminder of how the two had met in the first place, and Donghae knew that Hyukjae didn't want to go back there.

Not just yet, anyway.

“Alright.” He reluctantly agreed and paused a while, allowed the wheelchair's wheels on the linoleum floor fill the sound in the narrow hallway, “But, you know you can't avoid it forever.”

Donghae bit his lip as he waited for an answer from Hyukjae that never came, sighing then because he wondered why he ever thought that one would. It was more evident, then, than it was before—Hyukjae would never change.

Hyukjae had a guilty conscience. And he hated himself for it.

Hyukjae was completely right, Donghae was in love with little Nina. In fact, she even high-fived him in the face when he had tried going in for a hug.

It was one of those A+ meetings that Donghae would never forget.

At his side, Hyukjae was cracking the up and wouldn't stop even after Donghae weakly swatted him in the head for it. It took Nina to start laughing as well to get Hyukjae to finally shut it and be a respectable adult figure.

If he could.

“Nina,” he began in a soft voice, “You. . . Are so freaking cute, I can't even!” And he mushed his face in her chubby little cheek and continued laughing like nothing wrong had been done.

“Funny!” Nina laughed along and Hyukjae broke down to the floor with her scooped up in his arms, hiccuping and all.

From his wheelchair, Donghae tried scowling at the couple of cute fools rolling around on the floor and making a ruckus in the play room, but he failed almost immediately. He found it to be a precious moment each time Hyukjae laughed in such a way, and now he had a little companion to share all the good times with.

It was perfect.

Finally done being an idiot, Hyukjae sat upright and slowly caught his breath. “Oh, Nina. I swear I like you more than all of my siblings.”

Wait, that's just—

“Hyuk, that's so mean, you can't just go around saying things like that!” Donghae scolded and Hyukjae just began laughing again.

“I'm just kidding.”

“No, you're not.”

Hyukjae remained silent for a time and really, really thought about it. “Yeah, you're right, I'm not.” Donghae's jaw dropped. They stared at each other.

“Hyuk, that's ed up.” Donghae whispered.

Hyukjae shrugged, secretly amused by the astonished look stuck on Donghae's face. “It's fine, those demons hate me too.”

“Demons? What is that?” Nina suddenly asked and Hyukjae instantly pounced on the opportunity to tell her all about the horrible 'demons' he knew.

“Remember that mean, big-headed boy that came here a long time ago when we became friends?” Nina looked a bit confused but nodded her head anyway, so Hyukjae made a scowling face, “He's the biggest, meanest, and baddest demon of all.”

Donghae shook his head as Nina gasped and Hyukjae noticeably choked back laughter. “Demon not my friend. He's mean!”

“Yeah, be careful, Nina, because demons are bad, and. . .” Hyukjae poised his fingers into 'claws' and waited for Nina to react to them like he knew every little kid would. She smiled and cowered, “they'll get you!”

Nina screamed a delighted sound and took off running, laughing, tripping over things, and Hyukjae chased her all around while Donghae sat and watched, delighted.

Unquestionably thankful.

A week and a half later on April 16th, Hyukjae walked out of Donghae's hospital room feeling elated. Like he had gained something.

Donghae was stronger. He could stand already—maybe not for any longer than a few seconds, but he stood, and for now that was enough to be excited about for Hyukjae, though he expected a lot out of Donghae.

And he secretly wanted so much more.

But he'd already asked for so much and done so little, and he deemed himself greedy. Too greedy to want, to weak to fight for it, and thus damned to wait.

He knew he would always wait.

Hyukjae set his backpack down on the desk before him and took out his things before taking to his seat, releasing a hefty sigh as he relaxed his shoulders. A contented smile spread on his face as he simultaneously leaned back in the small chair, waiting now for class to begin.

He couldn't stop himself from thinking back to the short time he'd spent at the hospital just an hour ago. Hyukjae recalled how Donghae's legs wobbled as he struggled to stand and how he'd relied on his more steady footing. He could still feel how the smaller boy had leaned his whole weight on him, the way he had held his hand to keep upright—how it felt to finally have his arm around Donghae's waist.

And he remembered most the smile that Donghae turned to face him with once he had his back straight and they could stand, for the most part, eye to eye.

It was such a happy moment that Hyukjae knew he'd never forget.

They were finally so close. . .

A book the size of an encyclopedia was suddenly thrown onto Hyukjae's desk and he yipped in surprise, tipping himself backwards and out of his chair.

“What the , Kyu?!” He wailed, knowing with an eery case of expertise that the only person mischievous enough to do something like that to him would be his evil face of a best friend.

Sure enough, that familiar evil laugh floated down at him from above, the equally sadistic face also came into focus as Hyukjae squinted his eyes open, head pounding now where it had collided with the floor. “That. . . was so freaking funny, dude. You should have seen your face!”

“What do you even want?” Hyukjae demanded.

Kyuhyun couldn't even answer, he was too busy laughing at what he remembered of Hyukjae's expression.“Oh!”

Hyukjae rolled his eyes, “Come on, dude. Get out, everyone's staring.” A single glance around the classroom confirmed that notion. Several students were openly laughing at the tall sophomore cracking up at a childish prank, too many were snickering at Hyukjae's scared cat reaction, and everyone really was staring.

Though, Kyuhyun didn't care and just went on laughing, and because he knew the boy's personality like the back of his hand, Hyukjae simply waited for the evil sounding laughter to end. When it did, minutes later, Kyuhyun massaged his aching cheeks and pulled on his serious face.

“Actually,” he started, “I came to ask why you've been leaving to school before me recently. Way earlier than usual. Don't wanna walk with me, or is something up?”

Hyukjae sighed, he wondered when this would happen. “Smart . . .” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyukjae replied, shaking his head, “It's nothing like. . . that.”

“And by 'that' you mean the first one, don't you?”

Another sigh and Hyukjae began with, “Would you believe me if I said—”

“Hell no.”

“What the hell, let me finish!”

“Your lies , dude, let's face it.” Kyuhyun laughed.

“Then does that mean you never believe me?” Hyukjae asked curiously, though the answer he got was a short shrug.

I can't deal with this damn kid.

“Okay,” Hyukjae decided, “I'll make you a deal.” At that, Kyuhyun's eyes lit up instantly, “I'll tell you what's been going on with me recently if you leave and never come back.”

A dramatic gasp, hand over heart, eyes wide, “You're getting rid of me?! Think about the kids!”

“What are we, married? Get out of here!” Hyukjae yelled, disgusted, and Kyuhyun began that cackle that the former so despised. “I'll tell you at lunch, alright?”

Kyuhyun couldn't quit giggling. It was at times like these that Hyukjae could really see Kyuhyun's sixteen year old age. He found it adorable. “Deal,” The younger of the two agreed, “But you have to tell me everything. You've been too weird lately.” And Kyuhyun looked Hyukjae in the eye, face void of all playfulness suddenly.

And it was at these times that Hyukjae truly got a look at how accurately Kyuhyun knew him. How fitting, it was, that the two of them became family by such an awkward fate.

“Deal,” Hyukjae agreed.

Kyuhyun's mouth wouldn't close no matter how hard he tried to reel it in. It had creaked open throughout the progression of Hyukjae's story and to no avail could he control the pressure he felt building up in his heart.

“So, you're telling me that, that kid—”

“Donghae.”

“—never died, and that he's actually seventeen right now, and that you've been seeing him as some ghost thing in the mirror for months, and now finally you know he's alive?”

“Yes, Kyu, we've gone through this like three times. It's like his subconscious traveled to me through all kinds of reflections—”

“How is that scientifically possible?!”

“I don't know, Kyu, but it's what happened—”

“Why didn't you tell me earlier? Like, four-months-ago earlier when you first found him in the hospital?”

Hyukjae sighed, “Because I wanted to wait and make sure he. . .” He trailed off.

“He what?” Kyuhyun inquired, but Hyukjae couldn't answer as quickly as he'd been ready to.

He was reminded of the day he himself first found out about Donghae's continued existence, and of how he had felt when Donghae hadn't told him such important news. Just now, he realized, he had been a hypocrite and that Donghae was right.

False hope was a , something he had avoided subjecting his best friend to unconsciously and without choice. It was suddenly quite easy to understand Donghae's feelings now.

“Y-You know, I . . . just wanted to make sure he'd still be alive after every visit. . . I couldn't tell you until I was sure.”

It was silent for a few seconds while Kyuhyun cleared the food before him and tossed it into the trashcan, having lost his appetite. He examined his best friend's troubled face and he too let out a slow sigh, “I know you feel guilty—”

“Understatement.”

“Dude, shut up and listen for a minute.” Hyukjae set his chin in his palm, listening. “You're guilty, I get it. But haven't you ever thought that I could be too?”

It took just a second for Hyukjae to sit upright again, “What do you have to be guilty about, Kyu? You didn't even—”

“Shush, dammit!” Kyuhyun swatted the elder boy's hand.

“Ow! What'd you do that for?!”

“I'm saying, Hyuk, Donghae would have never fallen into the river if it wasn't for my dumb playing so close to it in the first place.”

“But I'm the one that brought us there. I was being careless and stupid.”

“Well, Donghae happened to be there, too, so he must be just as careless and stupid as you are.” Kyuhyun clapped his hands together, “Match made in Heaven.”

“No,” Hyukjae groaned, “You don't get it. I wasn't watching you correctly, I didn't pay attention to the obvious weather signs, Donghae wouldn't have had to save you if I were watching you properly, I should have jumped in, I should have been the one to save you, and I should have been able to save Donghae, but I couldn't. Stop it.” Hyukjae ordered when Kyuhyun moved to protest, “I don't wanna hear anymore.”

Kyuhyun visibly deflated and the two sat in silence once more. Kyuhyun had so much more to say on the matter—How well could a seven year old watch a five year old without incident? How accurately could a seven year old determine the chance of rain and who knew it would pour so hard?

They were the victims of circumstance; no way should Hyukjae take the blame for all of it.

The school bell rang and signaled the end of lunch, and yet the boys remained still. It went without saying that the two weren't up for their remaining classes anymore.

“Should. . . uh,” Kyuhyun was hesitant to ask. After all, Donghae was always a sensitive subject, “What should we do about the jar, then? Since . . . you know, he's alive. . . and all.”

Hyukjae closed his eyes at the mention of the jar he had hated for ten years. To him, it was the jar that marked the start of all of his misery—his, his best friend's, his. . . Donghae's. The jar spoke of all of his mistakes, his failed attempts.

It bottled up his guilt; each larger, greener leaf that was adding to the age Donghae would have been had he survived was yet another tier to the guilt dominating his psyche. That jar was his pain, and more than anything now that he knew Donghae was alive and would live, he didn't want to ever see it again.

“I say we dump it.” Hyukjae stated firmly.

Kyuhyun refused to show his surprise. Having been the one that felt more attached to the jar and its purpose, he knew Hyukjae's answer would be the opposite of what he wished, but still. . . “Don't you think that—” He cut himself off, started again, “I feel like if we just toss the jar away, all of its history goes with it.”

“Exactly, that's why it needs to go.” Hyukjae adamantly agreed.

“No, what I mean is, all those ten years we were thinking about Donghae and the jar shows that.”

This made Hyukjae feel guilty somehow, “You were thinking of him, Kyu. . . Not me. I wanted to forget him, and the jar, and what happened that day.”

“But you didn't forget and that's what matters. I feel like throwing the jar away means throwing away the connection we've made with Donghae.” Kyuhyun waited for the other to answer and continued when he didn't. “Don't you think Donghae should know?”

No. Hyukjae thought, Definitely not.

I only added one leaf. . .

“Why are you always sad every time I see you?” Donghae asked the next afternoon when he technicall