CHAPTER FIVE

When the sun rose over the line of the snow-capped hills to spill light into the cottage, Kyuhyun stirred. He opened his eyes, disoriented for a moment until he registered the pressure of Ryeowook’s body curled against his side. The events of the previous night seared through the cloudiness of his mind and took siege. There were tears, confessions, kisses and more tears before they wandered off into sleep. He was not sure which one of them had fallen asleep first, but even in their sleep, neither of them had pulled out from the union of their hands.

Ryeowook was still asleep, his face pressed against Kyuhyun’s arm. During the course of the night, Ryeowook had snuggled close, perhaps for warmth, perhaps for solace. Even though Kyuhyun’s neck was sore and his muscles were stiff from the night spent on the couch, he did not move. He listened to Ryeowook’s even breathing and kept his mind blank in the peace offered by the morning. As he waited for Ryeowook to wake, he counted, then recounted, the eyelashes that were long enough to cast fan-like shadows under Ryeowook’s eyes.

Like him, Ryeowook was disoriented when at the waking moment as he eased from sleep and into consciousness. Like him, Ryeowook eventually remembered what happened last night. There was a perfect lapse of silence where their gazes locked. Their fingers tightened around each other’s, grateful that they had made their way back to each other even after all the hurt.

They had their breakfast in silence, carefully keeping the subject of Ryeowook’s illness out of the space between them. That could wait a little more. Right now, they needed the peace to straighten their thoughts and find the next step they needed to take from hereon.

When the last morsel of bread was swallowed, Ryeowook cleared the crumbs, sweeping and collecting them with his hands. Kyuhyun helped to stacked the plates. This was the quotidian pattern of their mornings, but for this morning, it was also an example of them trying to believe that life could still be normal even when its underside had completely changed in flavor.

When Ryeowook went into the room to get ready for work, Kyuhyun thought of the heavy crates that Ryeowook would have to lift and lower at the fruit stall. A persuasion sat on his tongue, but he hesitated in its delivery. To try to convince Ryeowook not to work would only shear Ryeowook’s pride. Ryeowook would expect him to understand, and Kyuhyun could.

Perhaps the security and normalcy in the execution of daily tasks was what they need to assure themselves that they still have control over a part of their lives even when a fearful opponent awaited ahead. Perhaps routines could provide them with a temporary respite from the worries that niggled without a possibility of resolution.

The landscape around them was covered with a thin dusting of snow. They held hands as they walked on the unpaved road that led to the marketplace. Bare trees lined either side of the road, the uneven ridges of their bark damp and cold with condensation. Just yesterday, they had a banter about the color of flowers that would bloom on the trees when spring arrived. Kyuhyun had pretended to disagree with Ryeowook, just to see those elfin features scrunch with annoyance, then redden with shyness when he confessed that he was only pulling Ryeowook’s leg. But such joviality was unfitting this morning.

The silence that accompanied them continued as they passed a school where little children clad in bulky winter uniforms waddled through the gates. Between the ear muffs, their cheeks were rosy from the chill. Even though the snowfall had reduced, the weather had gotten to its coldest where vapor crystallized as soon as they were formed. The owner of the clockwork shop told Kyuhyun that this was winter’s final fight before spring tussled it into oblivion, where it would wait for its turn to come again.

Spring was coming.

An iciness that had nothing to do with the weather creeped from the base of Kyuhyun’s spine. Anna’s words surfaced and wrapped themselves around Kyuhyun’s mind. If they were true, Kyuhyun stopped himself from thinking further.

“Ryeowook.”

“Kyuhyun.”

They called each other’s names at the same time. They stopped in their tracks at the same time. It was as if their thoughts had identified the same moment to be heard

“Let’s hear you first.” Kyuhyun said, shifting his feet so that he could face Ryeowook.

Ryeowook drew a deep breath venturing into a dark place where the unknown lurkedRyeowook lifted his face from the warm circle of the scarf around his neck. “The hospital... it was a scary place.”

Kyuhyun’s heart fell. Had Ryeowook known that he would try to convince him to return to the hospital? Was that Ryeowook’s reply to the question he had yet asked?

“The walls are white. The corridors reeked of disinfectant, each day stronger than the last. You hear groans of pain and cries of loss. Those sounds keep you awake all night. Despite all the doctors, nurses and patients in the hospital, no one is really there for you.” Ryeowook’s eyes were fixed at a spot beyond Kyuhyun’s shoulder, as if the images he had painted with his words had come alive before his eyes.

It was hard for Kyuhyun to speak. “What about Anna? She was genuinely concerned about you.”

“She’s a nice person. But sometimes, people’s sympathy can smother you. They can care for you and break your pride at the same time. And back then, pride was only thing I had. I hate the hospital, Kyuhyun, I really do.”

“But Ryeowook, you have to go back.” Kyuhyun’s voice was low, pained. He reached a hand to brush Ryeowook’s hair out of his eyes. 

“I know.” Ryeowook nodded. “I need to go back. I want to.”

Kyuhyun did not expect this. He had expected Ryeowook to need to be further coaxed. He had expected those eyes to be dull with stubborn reluctance and fear, not glimmering with strength and determination.

The sunlight slanted between them, silhouetting Ryeowook with a rim of light. In it, Kyuhyun could see the courage that had once lain dormant in the cocoon of indifference.

“I had never cared about outliving this disease.” Ryeowook pointed to his heart. “But for you, I want to try. I want to fight it. I want to win. But I can’t do this alone. I need you to do this with me. Would you?”

Ryeowook looked at Kyuhyun with restrained expectation, as if a part of him was prepared to receive Kyuhyun’s rejection. Kyuhyun’s heart fell more than a little, because despite all that they had bared to each other, Ryeowook did not seem to wholly believe in the depth of his love. Even though Kyuhyun had eventually returned, his initial act of leaving must had chipped away a fraction of Ryeowook’s faith in him.

Kyuhyun brushed away the regret before it could leaven, took a step forward and closed the distance between them. He lifted his arms to encircle Ryeowook into an embrace. Ryeowook pressed his face into Kyuhyun’s shoulder, and Kyuhyun held him tightly, a silent plea for Ryeowook to believe that he would never leave again.

Kyuhyun’s lips hovered just above Ryeowook’s ear, he said, “I’ll do anything for you, Ryeowook. Anything for you, anything with you.”

::::::::::

They set off for Harnsey two mornings later, their belongings secured in a knapsack that Kyuhyun carried. Harnsey was a half day walk away from Meadavine. The path between the two towns wound through snow-covered meadows and along a frozen stream with spindly bald trees on its bank. The scratch of their shoes against the ground was the only sound in the hum of winter’s silence.

There were moments where Kyuhyun felt that Ryeowook was not present with him, even though he was right beside and their hands were linked. Ryeowook’s footsteps would be weighted with hesitation, his gaze worried, as if he had travelled back to a past that weakened his resolve. During these moments, Kyuhyun would squeeze Ryeowook’s hand, and when Ryeowook lifted his eyes away from the ground to meet his, Kyuhyun would assure him a smile that meant “I’m here” and much more. Ryeowook always returned the smiles.

They arrived at Harnsey when the last rays of the sun streaked the sky purple and orange. For someone who had presumed that the town would be a mirror image of Meadavine, Kyuhyun was surprised in many ways. The streets here were wide and even without a jutting cobblestone. The architecture was taller and sturdier, unscathed by age. The faces of the locals were full, jovial and somewhat haughty from a life of easy comfort. 

Makeshift shops crammed the sidewalks and their owners shouted over the voices of one another to attract patrons. They sell things and animals which Kyuhyun had never seen before. Stones purported to change colors according to the mood of its wearer. Colorful birds preening their feathers. Puppies chasing their own tails in pens. Kyuhyun was unable to peel his eyes away. For some reasons, Ryeowook was as enthralled as he was.

“There weren’t these many shops when I was here,” Ryeowook said truthfully, as if he had divined Kyuhyun’s question.

As they moved deeper into the heart of the town, they heard music from trumpets and cymbals, and the sounds of a moving crowd. A good-natured trumpeter, perhaps seeing their confused faces, stopped to tell them that a festival was currently underway. The annual affair was held to celebrate the day Harnsey was found. Over the years, the festival had also become a day where traders from the region converged in Harnsey to pitch their goods to the wealthy residents.

“Kyu...” Ryeowook fidgeted when the trumpeter bounced away. “Can we attend the festival? Just for today?”

“But...”

“We can go to the hospital tomorrow.” Ryeowook looked at Kyuhyun hopefully.

A young couple walked pass them, their arms looped at the elbows. A few feet away from them, another pair stood on the sidewalk with their hands tightly entwined, sharing a meat skewer. One pair after another, the couples around them began to register in Kyuhyun’s mind. The couples laughed, bantered and frolicked with the kind of certainty that the hands of the person beside them would the same ones they would hold when their hairs faded to white. 

Maybe, just for one day, Ryeowook and him could be like these couples, whose future was a sure thing and not one that they would have to struggle and fight for. Just for one day, they could pretend that Ryeowook was not a person whom Death ployed to harvest when spring arrived.

Kyuhyun nodded. “Just for today.”

They found an inn where they could spend the night and checked in. After depositing their belongings, they set off to explore the streets. They filled their stomachs to the point of bursting with potpies, flavored goat’s milk and pastries filled with thick cream and crushed honeycomb. They bought matching charms for keepsake. They clapped and cheered as they watch a stuntman slid a sword down his throat and pulled it out again without getting a scratch. 

They laughed with abandon, their worries cast faraway where their temporary joy could not be polluted.

As twilight flattened into night, they followed the stream of people to the town square. They stood amidst the crowd, their shoulders brushing those of the strangers next to them. The crowd buzzed with anticipation and excited murmurs, then stilled for a fraction when a deafening staccato of pops smothered all the sounds in the world. Colorful balls of light zoomed into the sky, exploding into showers of sparks as they hit various heights. The sparks descended like multi-colored raindrops that fizzled out way before they could hit the earth.

The fireworks were beautiful, but a heaviness settled over Kyuhyun. He glanced at Ryeowook. The light from the fireworks illuminated Ryeowook’s face in flashes, and Kyuhyun knew from the melancholy in Ryeowook’s eyes that they felt the same.

Sometimes beautiful things did that to you: they reminded you that everything has its time and place, that the things that lit up your world are the very things that do not last.

A trance-like awe hung in the air when the last sparks faded into acrid wisps of smoke. The heads of the crowd tilted upwards with a quiet expectation that there would be something more. The sky remained dark and silent, and the people began to snap out of their moment of mesmerization. 

“That is a very tasteful end for the celebrations. Finer than what any gentleman would ask for.”

“Mom, did you see that?” 

“They should have this every year!”

“Never seen anything like that in my fifty years!”

At first, Kyuhyun did not hear the skirmish that was taking place. He was about to turn to Ryeowook when the sound of breaking glass punctuated the chatters of wonderment. Then he heard punches, kicks and the thump of clothed body falling onto the ground. 

“He’s got a knife!” a woman shrieked.

Screams could be heard as the crowd jostled, scrambling to escape to somewhere safe. The tide of people rolled toward Kyuhyun and Ryeowook, crashing through everything that stood in their way. Suddenly, Kyuhyun was no longer holding Ryeowook’s hand.

“Kyuhyun!” 

They fought to move toward each other, only to be pushed further apart. In the bedlam, Kyuhyun received a jab in the ribcage and a solid stamp on the foot.

“Ryeowook! I’ll meet you back at the inn!” Kyuhyun bellowed before he completely lost sight of Ryeowook.

But when Kyuhyun returned to the inn after the municipal police had swooped in to restore peace, Ryeowook was nowhere to be found. He stood in front of the inn as light snow spewed from the sky, landing on his coat and leaving dark spots when they melted. He craned his neck left and right, feeling his heart lift at every figure that came his way, then fell when he realized that they were not Ryeowook.

He must have waited half an hour or so before he turned down the street. He went back to the now empty town square where shards of glass glittered on the ground. From there, he retraced the places they had visited before the fireworks. He interrupted passersby engaged in a fervent discussion of the fight, and asked if they had seen Ryeowook after a brief description. He searched back-alleys where rats scuttled and rubbish were dumped.

In the end, he came a full circle and found what he was looking for a few meters away from the inn. He sprinted to the figure hunkered beneath the lamppost, his skin breaking out in cold sweat from relief. 

The relief was short-lived, fizzling out like the ephemeral fireworks. As he neared, he knew immediately that the nightmare had revisited, stretching out of its slumber for the first time since Christmas morning. 

He searched his pockets, then remembered that the bottle of pills was in the knapsack. They had been complacent and careless. 

He crouched before Ryeowook and cupped his face. The skin beneath his hands was cold and clammy. “Oh god, what should I do?”

“Kyuhyun...” Ryeowook rasped, as though his voice something that he had to summon with tedious effort. His hand fisted the cloth over the left side of his chest, his eyes lidded. It was worse than the first time. Kyuhyun panicked; he couldn’t think.

“St-stay awake, Ryeowook. I’ll go get your pills. I’ll be back in a - ”

Before Kyuhyun could finish his sentence, Ryeowook collapsed into his arms, the pain on his face smoothened away by the macabre comfort of unconsciousness.

::::::::::

Kyuhyun splashed his face with water from the wooden bucket. Once, twice, then thrice. The water   was cold on his skin, but it was not reinvigorating in any way. The heaviness was still there, behind his eyes, clouding his head. He leaned against the cement wall of lavatory, pushing his forehead against the heel of his palm. When the heaviness showed no signs of easing, he pushed himself off the wall and trudged out.

As he made his way back to Ryeowook, the draft that permeated the hospital corridor dried the droplets of water that clung to the tips of his fringe. He passed a trio of nurses conversing in whispers as they stood sentinel for the sleeping patients.

The hospital was quieter at night, but that did not make it a more likable place for Kyuhyun. Every now and then, he could hear the whimpers of patients kept awake by their pain. Every now and then, the nothingness of the white walls pulled the noose of helplessness tighter around his throat. With every passing second, he hated the hospital more.

He opened the door, and a rectangle of fluorescent light expanded into the dark ward. The ward had three beds and two were occupied. 

“Close the door.” The man on the leftmost bed heaved between his coughs. Kyuhyun did as he was told and then moved for the middle bed, where Ryeowook had lain unconscious for the past three nights.

“You can take the other bed. Must be tough on the chair.” The man said when Kyuhyun sat back onto the chair next to Ryeowook’s bed. “How many days has it been? Four? It’s not going to do anything good for your joints.”

The man was already here on the night Kyuhyun came running into the hospital, Ryeowook pliant on his back. The man was a bag of bones, with an egg-shaped head and little hair. He had welcomed them with a grunt when the nurses moved Ryeowook to this room.

“I’m good here,” Kyuhyun said without looking at the man.

“Youngsters never listen.” The man lamented before another violent bout of coughs seized his body. Kyuhyun could hear the gurgle of fluid in the man’s lungs, and the wheezes that sounded like the pull of a rusty saw against another rusty saw.

If he had the capacity to, he would have felt immensely sorry for the man. But all his attention was held captive by the boy on the bed. 

It had only been three days, but what little flesh Ryeowook had in his face was gone, and his cheekbones protruded more than ever. The nurses fed Ryeowook through syringes filled with a transparent liquid, and bruises would always appear where they had poked.

That was all they could do for Ryeowook, as the doctor had told Kyuhyun. They could reduce Ryeowook’s pain, but there was little they could do to prolong Ryeowook’s life. “It’s too late,” he had said with practiced sympathy, as if Ryeowook was already half gone. Kyuhyun did not know what to feel, because Ryeowook was still here and breathing.

Kyuhyun crouched forward onto the edge of the bed and nestled his face into the crook of his arm. He was tired yet he could not sleep. It had been like this for the past three nights, where fatigue conspired with his thoughts to bump him back and forth between sleep and wakefulness. Behind him, the man continued to cough.

He must had fallen asleep, because he was awoken by the noise of feet and sniffles behind him. The coughs had stopped. Beyond the window, a thin line of dawn light separated the sky from the ground. He craned his neck over his shoulder, just in time to see a nurse pulling a white sheet over the slack-jawed face of the man who would not be opening his eyes again.

The man’s wife stood beside the bed, shrunken by grief. She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, offering Kyuhyun a nod of acknowledgment when she caught his gaze. He felt like he should say something, but he knew that his words would be a superfluous species, neither able to bring the man back to life, nor able to allay the wife’s loss.

He did not know who were more pitiful: the people who had left, or the people who had been left behind. 

The nurses lifted the stiff body of the man onto a gurney and wheeled him out of the ward, the wife following in their wake. In the sudden stillness of inactivity, the skin on Kyuhyun’s prickled and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on their ends. Last night, Death had visited, gliding into the ward and hovering between the beds in indecision. It had claimed the man eventually, but it could have been Ryeowook.

Kyuhyun slipped his hand beneath the soft blanket and clasped it around Ryeowook’s warm fingers. There were gratitude and desperation in his grip. 

Gratitude, because they had won this round.

And desperation, because there was no way they could keep winning.

::::::::::

Ryeowook came to on the fourth morning they arrived at the hospital. It also happened to be the morning where the confines of the hospital became unbearable for Kyuhyun. 

At the first light of dawn, Kyuhyun walked out of the hospital, away from the dense souls of the dead that lingered and mourned along the fluorescent corridors. He rounded to the back of the squat building and pulled in breaths after breaths of fresh air to dispel the smell of disinfectant that had sedimented in the crannies of his lungs.

He squatted, holding that position until the red-brick wall carved lines onto his back, and the sky lightened enough to reveal the cottony clouds. The weather had warmed significantly since the day they reached Harnsey. The warmer weather was an augury to spring, that much he knew. Just a month ago, he had looked forward to how the silent and white sceneries would come alive with colors when winter was nudged out of the way. Now he wished that time would slow in its insistency.

Pins and needles hummed in his calves when he heaved himself up after what seemed like hours. When he walked through the hospital entrance, an austere-looking nurse arranging sheafs of papers at the counter stopped him. The corners of her lips ratcheted up in a smile that was apologetic and encouraging at the same time.

“He’s awake and looking for you,” she said, motioning her chin in the direction of Ryeowook’s ward. Kyuhyun mumbled a quick thanks and strode away from the counter.

The door to the ward was ajar. Ryeowook sat on the bed, his back propped against two thin pillows. He stared at the two magpies hopping on the window sill, their beaks pecking against the glass panes. The filtered sunlight highlighted the sad lines of Ryeowook’s profile, and Kyuhyun found himself ferried back to the days where sorrow was Ryeowook’s second skin.

Ryeowook snapped his gaze away from the window when Kyuhyun took the first step into the ward. Ryeowook’s lips were pallid, cracked in places.

“Kyuhyun, what did they say about...” Ryeowook gestured at the general area of his chest. “They didn’t want to tell me anything.”

Kyuhyun stood a feet away from the end of Ryeowook’s bed, his fingers curled lightly into his palms. He did not want to lie to Ryeowook. But at the same time, he did not want to be the person to snuff Ryeowook’s hope. Little did he know that in the prolonged silence, the message of despair was passed. 

Ryeowook’s gaze dropped to the blanket, where his hands were crossed. “I knew it. It’s too late, isn’t it?”

Kyuhyun rounded the bed to where Ryeowook was. He enfolded his arms around Ryeowook’s thin body, pressed Ryeowook’s face into his shoulders. He rested his chin on the crown of Ryeowook’s head.

“I’m sorry, Ryeowook,” Kyuhyun said, his voice thin and almost breathless from the helplessness that pressed him down like an unmovable boulder. 

He had always believed in the tales that testified on love’s ability to move mountains and conjure miracles in the most abject of places. But he had began to realize that those were just tales, and would remain to be so. Love was a tonic that gave you the bravery to enter into a battle, but it was also a poison that tormented when you were defeated and there was anything else you could do for the person you love.

Kyuhyun felt the slight shake of Ryeowook’s head. Kyuhyun pulled away and held Ryeowook by the shoulders. 

“Tell me what I can do to make you feel better. Anything. There’s bound to be something.”

“Take me home.” Ryeowook’s eyes were dry and clear. There were disappointment in them, but the strength was still there. “I want to spend the rest of my days with you, back in the place where all our memories are.”

Death is an absolute reaper that waits at the end of every life, but it has no control over how people make their way to it. You could snivel and cower, or you could meet it with your chin held high from a life well-lived. Ryeowook had made his choice to live the rest of his days on his own terms, with the man who loved him when nobody else did. That was his way of fighting back, of showing the world that he was strong even though it had been nothing but unfair to him.

Kyuhyun nodded with a wan smile. He pressed his lips to Ryeowook’s forehead, his nose skimming his hairline. 

“Let’s go home.”

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A/N: The next chapter will be the last, but I won't be able to update it until the second week of November. Till then, see you. :)