four

* * * * *

The first time he kisses her (even though it’s just the briefest of moments where his lips softly graze her smooth forehead) is on a gloomy overcast March Saturday, exactly one week after Kangin is abruptly and jarringly taken from them forever by a careless, irresponsible drunk driver.

And Jaejoong knows (there’s no maybe) this is the first time (it’ll probably even be the only time in his life) he ever wants to protect someone in every way he can.

He stands in front of the large group of people with solemn expressions decorating their faces, and he can’t help but think that everything just isn’t right. The sea of black stands out amongst the stark white chairs and neatly-kept green grass of the mortuary Kangin’s service is held at, and it just seems too bright, too scenic, too much for a funeral.

He delivers the eulogy (Kagin’s parents and Nana ask him to because he was one of Kangin’s closest friends, his younger brother, almost like family). His voice is tight, and he tries to keep his tears from falling (but he fails, stopping three times to collect himself before he can continue).

Nana sits in the front row next to her mom and dad, and he can see the way she’s biting her lip with such force (it’s a wonder she isn’t bleeding already) that he worries about her because she’s crying (she’s been crying every day since the accident), but she doesn’t ever let herself make a sound as the tears stream down her face.

Her hands are clenched so tightly into fists that her knuckles are turning white, and he can see her arms shaking, but she doesn’t ease up, not when her dad reaches over to grasp her hand in his, not when her mom cries and buries her face in Nana’s shoulder, not even when Nichkhun wraps his arm around her shoulder. She just sits there, but when Jaejoong finally walks off the stage to take his seat again, Nana’s eyes meet his, and for just a second, she sends him a tiny thankful smile (even though tears are still falling from her dark brown eyes).

When it’s time for everyone to line up to throw their white roses on the casket (it’s supposed to signify some form of closure, though Jaejoong really doesn’t feel like it does), he stands near the end of the line with his parents and Kangin’s family, but as he looks around, he realizes Nana’s nowhere in sight. He worries about her, craning his neck, but he only sees a blend of familiar high school faces, some family friends, and even some casual acquaintances. But there’s no sign of her.

He excuses himself from their families, and he quietly slips away from the crowd. It’s not hard to find her since Kangin’s service is at the top of the hill, and Jaejoong can see everything below him. Nana’s not within plain sight, so Jaejoong makes his way towards the back of the church, the only place she can hide.

He sees her, a shock of her beautiful blond hair hanging limply past her shoulders, her eyes swollen red from all of the crying, and she’s standing there by the door, her arms wrapped around herself. There’s almost no makeup on her today (probably because she knows she’s going to cry), and Jaejoong can’t help but notice how young she looks at the moment, how young him and Nana still are, how young Kangin still was before…

They’re supposed to be living their lives, making memories, having a lifetime ahead of them. Kangin’s supposed to be with them. They’re not supposed to be here today, crying and mourning the loss of him.

Jaejoong slowly walks up to her, and she senses him coming because she looks up when he’s close enou