^{_{. .}} six ^{_{. .}}

The morning sun shines gently through the opened vertical blinds, warming up the back of his head as he silently takes in the sight of the four year old girl sitting across him.

She chews a spoonful after spoonful of sugar-coated corn flakes, contentedly, and entirely focused on her breakfast. Her legs dangle over the chair that’s a bit too high for them to reach the floor, and it seems like she’s fine with this; fine with everything that’s been happening around her during the past 18 hours. She hasn’t said a word, but her actions speak loud enough for him to understand.

His milk coffee has probably already cooled down, but he doesn’t really care as he absent-mindedly takes small sips of the liquid. His eyelids are heavy, and he lacks proper sleep, but he knows he can endure it. It’s a bit hard to focus on something like the hours he’s slept, when there’s a lot bigger issues on hand.

Donghae sighs after a deep inhale, letting his gaze wander through the window.

It’s late August. The sun’s still rising as the clock turns nine, but it seems like it’s going to rain later; the clouds keep descending lower and the whiteness has started to turn grayer. The dozens of similar concrete buildings stand broadly in the scene, the part of the city slowly starting to stir up. Everything is dull and gray-scaled, the exact opposite of the place they used to live as kids.

This is a part of a world he doesn’t understand.

At the moment everything seems almost serene and ordinary, but inside his head he can’t stop replaying the fight he had with Hyukjae last night. The rare sight of tears glimmering in Hyukjae’s eyes is an image difficult to forget, and a part of him feels ashamed because of it. It’s a fact that he’s acted unfair in the past. It’s just hard to admit it.

A spoon clinks against a bowl, and Donghae turns his attention back to the girl. The bowl is empty, and as Jaemin finishes her class of milk Donghae gives him a soft smile. The opened package of Frosties fights quite a bit against his own opinions of a proper breakfast meal, but he lets it slide just for today.

She tilts her head towards her right when their eyes meet, looking back at him in wonder.

Her eyes resemble quite a lot of her father’s when it comes to color and shape, but her expression is purely innocent, and a little curious. Her lips are also a little similar with Hyukjae’s, especially when Donghae reminisces back to the times when they were younger, and spending most of their awake time together. Trying to understand that she really is a daughter of Hyukjae’s is not just a piece of cake to digest.

He realizes Hyukjae must have been only 18 when this mistake happened.  Just two years after their friendship died out.

“Are you full already?” he asks then, receiving a little nod in return. “Good job.”

Although Donghae thinks he can read her body language enough to interact with her properly, her speechlessness puzzles him out. As far as he has any knowledge of human psychology, her selective muteness must have been caused by something that affected her in an emotional way. But he knows she’s not entirely mute, because he actually happened to see her saying something to Hyukjae back in the hospital. He just can’t come to understand why she lets her guard down with a man who doesn’t even want her in his life.

Jaemin remains sitting across him for a minute, twiddling the hem of her shirt before Donghae notes she’s still in her pajamas.

“Do you want to change clothes already?”

Yesterday, he did few observations whilst Hyukjae was away at the grocery store.

She nods brightly.

“You want to do it by yourself?” he asks, knowing that she’s perfectly capable of doing it alone, as she showed him yesterday when he asked the same thing. He thinks it’s also a good thing to let her do it, because doing so will help her gain confidence, and in his opinion it’s something she really needs when it goes along with praises and encouragement. She’s a shy girl, but obviously very smart and observant for her age.

Another nod answers his question.

“Go ahead then,” Donghae notes with a small curl of his lips, and it doesn’t take long until she has already climbed down the chair and gone back to the bedroom where she knows her backpack to be.

Yesterday he also happened to notice the few bruises on her arms, alarming him a little — but he knows it could be nothing special and just his imagination going override. Although when he saw her for the first time, her whole appearance itself already made him suspicious. But could things be so bad at home? Maybe it was just a bad day for them all; she could have caused it herself by playing without paying attention if her clothes ripped or got dirt stains.

How many times had he come home whilst looking like a drowned rat when he was a kid? Enough for him to think that he had only been having fun—and probably with Hyukjae.

He drowns his hands into his already tousled, dark hair, heaving out an exasperated sigh.

His phone then suddenly vibrates on the table next to his arm. He picks it up with tired, a little lousy moves, taking a look of the id of the caller. For half a minute, he only stares at it, something in him being a bit uncertain of answering even when there’s not a proper reason for that.  A part of the possible conversation is already on top of his mind, making him queasy, but he finally slides his finger over the green icon to answer.

He takes a breath before he says anything.

“Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetheart,” the woman greets him cheerfully; characteristically for her warm personality. It makes Donghae feel a bit more content again.

“I know it’s your day off and you’re free to go as you please since you’re an adult already, but I just couldn’t help myself from calling when you didn’t even send a message that you’re not coming home for the night… And usually you do,” she continues then, sounding a little worried, and Donghae realizes he indeed didn’t inform his parents in anyway.

Living at home has its own pros and cons—even at 23 years of age—when his parents are at home only half of the time, being required to travel a lot because of their jobs. Most of the time he has the whole house for himself. Because of that he doesn’t need to think too much about financial stuff as he studies and works part-time at the ER, still getting enough freedom as long as he informs at least his mother if he’s going somewhere when they are at home.

“You’re right… I’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his forehead, “I totally forgot. Something just came up and…” he trails off. He needs to think about this. He’s always had a good relationship with his parents, and there’s no need to lie. But this time he actually considers it, only to throw the thought off his mind immediately.

“Oh, that’s okay. Where are you at, then?” she asks casually, but decides to add; “I mean I don’t force you to tell, since you have your right for privacy—“

“Mom,” Donghae laughs half-heartedly. “It’s okay.”

Although a lot of things at the moment aren’t exactly ‘okay’.

“Oh, good then.”

He decides to go for the truth.

“Do you remember Hyukjae?”

“Hyukjae?” she repeats, tasting the name on the top of her tongue to remember. It’s been a while, however.

“Yes.”

It takes another minute for her to catch on, until she exclaims in surprise:

“Oh, Hyukjae! Yes, I do remember him. He was your best friend when you were kids, right? That nice kid from the same neighborhood—although if I’m in my right mind you were also little rascals from time to time.”

Her tone stays benign, and Donghae knows she’s just teasing him.

“Yeah, him.”

She hums; confused.

“But then you suddenly just stopped…being friends? I never knew what happened between you two…?”

Donghae clenches his jaw.

“I-I guess we drifted apart.”

“I see,” she notes, but her son isn’t entirely assured about the tone. Few seconds pass before she keeps going. “So, what about him…?”

“I…” he starts, but how is he going to explain this? Out of all people, Hyukjae decided to go to him; and out of all people, Donghae decided to help him.

“I’ve met him few times at the hospital when he’s come to the ER, and I’ve happened to be the one on duty to treat him,” he has to bite his lips in order to continue, “And yesterday… He came to meet me because he didn’t have anyone else to go to—a-and… It’s…pretty complicated.”

“Try me?”

She tries to assure him to keep going, but at this time of the day nothing really seems to make sense in Donghae’s head. He can’t help but sigh, and lean his face against his other palm in a sort of exhaustion. It’s all so complex.

“He has a… He has a daughter,” he mutters bluntly.

Donghae tells her mother everything he knows at the moment. He tries to keep all the details in minimum, but the fact that Hyukjae has a somewhat problematic life probably comes out clear enough, when he can’t help himself from complaining about his behavior. The woman lets him explain without interruptions, and when his son’s few minute monologue finally ends, it’s not so easy to get a word out .

Donghae realizes that a weight is suddenly lifted off his shoulders, and everything might make a little more sense again. Yet, a part of him is slightly scared for his mother’s reaction.

She eventually breaks the silence with a tiny hum.

“Donghae,” she says gently, “I think you’re doing the right thing. But Hyukjae hasn’t ever been a part of her life before, so how could he know how to be like a parent now?”

“Well, he still shouldn’t act like this—“

“He shouldn’t,” she retorts, “But I think you, my son, are being a bit judgmental now.”

“But Mom—“

“Son, let me say a thing or two, okay?” It’s an order, not a request. “There’s usually a reason behind people’s actions. Hyukjae seems irresponsible and reckless, but I bet it’s not just that. Have you asked how does he feel about this?”

He plucks his fingernails, noticing how his mother is now making him a little annoyed. She might have a point but she hasn’t seen Hyukjae, has she?

“No… Why do you have to be a psychologist?” he grunts.

His mother sighs.

“But he really doesn’t give a damn about the girl…”

“You don’t know unless you talk about it. And don’t roll your eyes.”

He does, anyway.

“So, he’s going to look after her Mother?”

“He’d better.”

The first thing Hyukjae has in mind when he wakes up is water.

He rolls onto his back before he has even opened his eyes, taking a deep breath; he’s pretty sure it’s damn early for his liking, but he’s way too thirsty to keep on snoring away. There’s not too much nausea this time, although he did consume quite a lot of alcohol during the night, but gladly it’s bearable. It takes a moment for him to force his eyelids open, and when he does, he regrets it. The sun is damned too bright—and why on earth would he have left his blinds open?

There’s no other coherent thoughts when he sits up, massaging his temples and yawning quietly before he strolls through the room to get a much needed glass of water. He rubs his face again with the ribbing of his hoodie’s sleeve, brushing the same hand through his hand to ruffle some sense to his head. It’s quiet, but he’s not awake enough to realize that things have changed when he’s not exactly alone anymore.

He pulls out a glass that looks somewhat clean, filling it with cold water.

Hyukjae has just taken the first gulp when a voice startles him.

“Didn’t expect you to be up this early.”

Donghae’s voice is monotone, but as Hyukjae turns around—half of the mouthful of water dripping down his jaw—a surprisingly neutral expression greets him. Phrases and pictures from hours prior return to his memory. He dries his face onto his sleeve, staring back at the younger man who’s sitting at the table, other leg crossed on top of the other.

His head isn’t really ready to function yet, but he takes a note of the more human version of Donghae who seems exactly as much as just woken up as Hyukjae. Well, maybe Donghae is a little more coherent, but seeing him in a wrinkly red IronMan shirt and ordinary college pants delights him at this point of the day.

“Me neither,” he mumbles out, pointing towards the other, “Nice shirt.”

Donghae looks down on himself the same time Hyukjae wolfs down the whole glass of water that’s still left. His so-called babysitter raises his eyes back up, but not at Hyukjae, since he looks a little self-conscious after his remark and huffs in mild irritation.

“Is Jaemin awake?” he asks somewhat indifferently, filling his glass again.

“Yeah,” the nurse empties his coffee cup with a little grimace of distaste, “Went to change her clothes few minutes ago.”

“Alright.”

A silence falls upon the men. Hyukjae puts his glass into the sink, and stays put on leaning against the counter for a minute when none of them speaks. He’s just about to go continue his sleep—he’s dead tired after all—when Donghae speaks up again. His tone doesn’t tell much.

“We should talk.”

“Should we?” Hyukjae questions, now a little annoyed and not any less reluctant. He’s not very much into talking this early, especially with Donghae.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

Donghae gives him a look of disbelief. He then rolls his eyes, and stands up which makes Hyukjae to take a step further away from him against the counter. Donghae proceeds to take the bowl, glass and cup onto his hands, putting them into the sink. The look in the younger’s eyes tells Hyukjae not to fight it.

“Because we should.”

It’s Hyukjae’s time to give Donghae the eye-roll.

“Jaemin! Are you ready?” the younger suddenly hollers, calling for the girl.

Hyukjae’s head aches at the noise, making him growl in pain. “Could you not?”

He doesn’t get an answer as Donghae decides to ignore him when the girl appears on the doorway of the kitchenette with the stuffed toy in her hold again, giving her a thumbs up. It makes him wonder why.

She acts a little shy, until she lifts up her hand a bit higher, showing them something.

It’s seems like a hairband, and Hyukjae raises his eyebrows, sharing a look with Donghae who seems—for once—as awkward as the girl’s dad.

“You want your hair tied up?” Donghae’s voice wavers, and it could be funny if he wouldn’t have turned to look at Hyukjae after.

Their faces turn a little wry when Jaemin nods vigorously, but then takes her long hair into her hands and attempts to braid it—and the men try to force smiles instead.

“Can you—“

“Do you—“

They try to speak at the same time, both abashed; there might be a lot of differences but braiding up a little girl’s hair is neither’s forte. Donghae then squats down in front of her, looking her expectantly.

“You can choose who does it, ok?”

“Or we can both try and she’ll tell the winner?” Hyukjae suddenly suggests, and Donghae gives him a glare. “What? That’s only fair. We both at it anyway.”

“Jaemin, don’t get too upset if we don’t reach the usual standards, okay…?

A smile appears on her lips as she hands the hairband for the other to take first.

It ends up a little messy in his unexperienced hands, but he thinks it actually looks like what it should be.  He rolls the hairband around the tip of her hair when he’s done, letting out a satisfied laugh of success.

“Done,” he remarks with a grin, letting go of her hair and taking a step back to take a better look.

She’s sitting on a chair, obviously a little excited to get to know about the result too.

Hyukjae crosses his arms over his chest, glancing towards Donghae whose face has gone sour although it shows that he’s somewhat impressed too.

“Go take a look at it,” Hyukjae says to the girl, and she leaves hastily towards the bedroom where’s the apartments only proper mirror (except from the on in the bathroom but it’s too high for her).

He's mostly just taken it as a competition, and being too focused on that he doesn't even have time to think about how odd everything about it actually is. It might not really be that horrible, after all.

“You got to be bluffing,” the younger man grumbles.

“Well, mate, am not.”

Jaemin comes back with a shy grin, looking at the both adults with wide eyes.

Hyukjae squats down on his feet with a sly smile. “I won, right?”

“How is that even possible?” Donghae then interrupts, huffing in annoyance.

“Is someone, I don’t know… Maybe a bad loser?”

“I am not!”

Hyukjae ignores the other and shares an innocent look with his daughter.

“Come on, tell me who’s the loser from the two of us.”

She inhales dramatically, glancing at the males as if the whole matter is something very important, until she points her index finger cautiously to Donghae’s way.

“How does someone like you excel in doing braids?” Donghae snarls towards the older, who needs to force himself from laughing.

“You’re still as bad of a loser as you used to be,” Hyukjae notes, standing up from the floor. Donghae still seems to be fuming about this, not believing the fact that the braid Hyukjae did was almost looking like a normal one. But after his words, the nurse bites his lips, somewhat forcefully.

It’s surreal how he’s able to forget the single fact that they’re not friends anymore.

After his comment they haven’t really shared a word other than Donghae pressing him to find Jaemin’s mother.

For once he’s doing what he says.

It’s been three hours full of desperate phone calls to friends, and friends of friends’, and acquaintances and people he barely knows by name. He’s tried the number service, but Jiah’s phone number and address remains hidden.

He thinks he’s not going anywhere whilst speaking with an old acquaintance from the year after high school, who he has met only once, if even that, when the man on the other end of the line actually claims that he knows where she lives these days.

The guy says she’s not that close with Jiah herself, but knows her current boyfriend; and therefore has visited the place where they are supposedly living now.

It feels like a bomb is ticking on the bottom of his stomach when he hastily writes the address down with shaking hands, ending the call as the man says he has to go. He remains sitting on the floor of his bedroom for another five minutes, staring at the written address without knowing how to really feel like.

Is this it...? 

Ten minutes after he finally gets himself on his feet, walking to the living room where Donghae sits reading a book beside Jaemin who’s engrossed in the cartoons going on TV. The younger man lifts his gaze, raising his eyebrows questionably.

He stares at Donghae with round eyes, not knowing what the emotions churning unpleasantly inside him are actually trying to say.

The words almost gets stuck on Hyukjae's throat.

“I-I found her.”

an 0611: there you go again.
i'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter but oh well.

i hope you'll like it...?

thanks for reading ~