Winter Days

The funeral is held two days later. It's a small gathering, consisting of only the immediate family and him. Something between thank you for coming, Minhyun would have been happy to know and the painstaking eulogy, and Youngjae finds himself withered in a corner, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Hyung, I missed you!”

There is only emptiness lurking within the depths of him. His apartment has been far too quiet the past two days, echoing only with pained sobs and dragging of tired feet. The blanket has become his friend over these two excruciating nights, basking in his endless wails. He doesn't want to go back to his home even though it's his off day, afraid to be left alone to haunting thoughts. As such, he drops by the hospital.

He ends up sitting by the counter, watching nurses and doctors scampering around. As he looks around, his eyes land upon two familiar figures at the door, scanning the place warily. Youngjae frowns in consternation as Daehyun approaches the queue of blood donors, and goes over to him. The haggard man instantly backs away when he sees Youngjae, sheepishly running a hair through his unkempt hair.

"Mr. Jung, it's been at most a week since I saw you. I told you what you were doing was dangerous..."

Youngjae's eyebrows crease. Maybe I didn't give them enough, Youngjae thinks and bites his lip. Imagine if he hadn't noticed Daehyun and he had went through with the blood donation...

The small boy holding Daehyun's hand hides behind Daehyun, peeking out timidly. The odour emanating from the pair is strong, and a passing patient shrivels up his nose in disgust.

"I-" Daehyun tries to formulate an excuse in his mind, words spluttering from his chapped lips. Youngjae notices the bruises the man is sporting on hands, skin incessantly peeling off Daehyun's face. Cold is the first word Youngjae thinks of and he veers his gaze from the two to the cafe opposite the hospital.

--

The ambient lights falling upon the trio at the back of the cafe is embracing, though Daehyun looks foreign amidst the orange glow. The warm atmosphere of the cafe strikes a deep contrast with the biting cold tussling outside. A waitress comes over and spares a degrading glance at Daehyun before handing them each a menu.

The boy beside Daehyun excitedly flips through the menu, prodding his knobbly fingers at the book while tugging on Daehyun's sleeve.

"Junhong, no," Daehyun chides in a hushed tone at the disappointed boy.

"It's okay," Youngjae voices out and smiles fondly at the thin boy. The luminance of Junhong's eyes strike a chord in Youngjae's heart as he tries not to think about what had happened just a few days ago.

"Pick anything you like," Youngjae kindly offers.

A blinding smile spreads across the shy boy's face and he eagerly points to the chicken spaghetti. Youngjae looks to Daehyun who shakes his head with a polite "thank you".

Youngjae orders for three cups of hot chocolate and two plates of chicken spaghetti. His eyes find his way from Daehyun's dark orbs to Junhong's shimmering ones and he blinks in curiousity.

"My brother," Daehyun provides and Youngjae leans forward with a grin.

"I'm Yoo Youngjae."

Junhong enthusiastically leaps up and announces, "My name is Choi Junhong! I'm six years old!"

Youngjae muffles back a chuckle. He turns his gaze towards Daehyun and smiles.

"I- uh, Jung Daehyun. Twenty-four this year," the man replies hesitantly and explains once he sees Youngjae's confused look, "We have different fathers."

Silence wafts around the trio, only Junhong keenly awaiting his food. Daehyun studies the patterns of the wooden table while Youngjae looks away, questions still hanging upon his lips.

"...Thank you. And sorry for coming back," Daehyun begins, eyes roaming about unsurely.

"We got... robbed," he mutters with an abashed smile. Daehyun rubs his knuckles, wiping away the dried blood on them. Junhong stops looking around for waiters then and hangs his head low, pursing his lips.

"Hyung had to give our food up because of me," Junhong mumbles ruefully, voice soft. Youngjae gazes at the boy in concern.

Daehyun hurriedly tries to shush his younger brother to no avail. "They wouldn't let me go until hyung gave it to them," Junhong murmurs.

Youngjae's heart plummets as he envisions such a young boy like Junhong being embroiled in said roughness. He watches Daehyun fold his lips, looking back to Youngjae with a dismissive grin.

"Don't worry, it's common. The streets can be a bit violent sometimes," he says, pulling Junhong closer to him.

"You two live on the streets?" Youngjae asks softly, glancing out at the savage blizzard toiling through the roads. Daehyun pauses for a moment, regretting his words when he sees the way Youngjae's eyes dim. 

"I... got fired about half a year ago. Couldn't pay the rent.”

Youngjae leans in attentively, encouraging Daehyun to continue.

“Uh, it's hard to find another job considering my education status,” Daehyun laughs, voice hoarse. “I didn't graduate from high school.”

There's blood clumped at the side of Daehyun's lips. Youngjae passes him a tissue and motions to the dried blood, and Daehyun fails to wipe it away. Junhong grabs the tissue and gently dabs his brother's cheek, smiling triumphantly while Daehyun ruffles his hair affectionately.

The waitress comes over and serves the hot chocolate, Junhong's look of sheer awe both lovely and saddening.

Junhong nearly scalds his tongue trying to gulp it down. All the while, Daehyun stares fondly at the boy before finally sighing.

“...All I want is for him to live well,” he mumbles. “Put a roof over his head. Give him a bed to sleep in and proper clothes to wear so he'll be warm.”

Youngjae blinks, heart clenching at Daehyun's words. From Daehyun's affectionate ministrations, it's not hard to deduce that Daehyun would sacrifice his everything for Junhong, but to hear it first-hand from him is simply agonising.

“I'm sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” Daehyun awkwardly runs a hand through his hair, chuckling to lighten the mood.

“No, you're not,” Youngjae murmurs and looks at the man before him. Daehyun is just a year older than him, yet they are worlds apart.

“Do you mind me asking... where your parents are?” Youngjae questions hesitantly.

Daehyun freezes, leading Youngjae to cringe with an apology ready on his lips. Daehyun swallows, grimacing slightly before muttering, “Our mother passed away. I don't know who my father is, and I ran away with Junhong five years back from that bastard.”

Youngjae's eyelids flicker and he fists the material of his pants. Even though he lives alone, he has always had the support of his parents. His parents had stubbornly refused to let him pay for his apartment and even his phone bills. Daehyun and Junhong are complete foils to him, having absolutely no one but each other to depend on.

“She couldn't find out who she had me with. When I was eighteen, she had Junhong and forced that bastard to take responsibility. Turns out it was worse having him around,” Daehyun guffaws, though his voice is ridden with resentment. “I took Junhong away after she passed on.”

“You've been supporting him since then?” Youngjae whispers. While Daehyun had been slogging probably day and night trying to earn money, Youngjae had been studying in the comforts of his college dorm with his expenses fully covered.

Daehyun exhales lengthily, slumping back against the seat. “Just barely.”

Their food arrives and Junhong stares at it with his mouth agape, looking up to Youngjae and Daehyun for permission. Youngjae prods the plate over and Junhong immediately brightens up, blubbering out a thanks. He digs in jubilantly while Daehyun watches with a contented smile.

Junhong gets sauce all over his lips, stopping only to let his brother wipe his mouth before promptly continuing. He reminds Youngjae too much of the boy he'd cried his heart out just a while ago, and the thought of Junhong bracing the relentless winter on the streets twists him with torment.

“Hyung, why can't I go play in the snow?”

Youngjae shakes the memories out of his head and slides over the other dish to Daehyun, surprising the bedraggled man.

"I- no, really. It's okay." He adamantly refuses to eat, gingerly pushing back the plate to Youngjae with one finger, as if afraid he'd contaminate the food.

“Hyung, why is the winter so cold?”

"I ordered it for you. I've already eaten," Youngjae says as he reassuringly smiles at Daehyun. Something about Daehyun reminds him of the cold wind wheezing throughout the town. He isn't sure what it is, perhaps his eyes or simply his aura, but it seems like a strange mixture between cold and warmth.

“Hyung, why don't you like winter?”

“Thank... thank you,” Daehyun coughs and hesitantly takes the dish. It fills Youngjae up with satisfaction to know he'd at least managed to reduce the pallor in their cheeks by a bit. Yet dread seeps into Youngjae's skin as he looks from the howling gale scratching at the cafe's windows to Junhong's vulnerable self.

Because it wants to take you away.

The tears prick at Youngjae's eyes and he blinks them away hastily. Junhong tilts his head at him, large eyes infused with a familiar spark Youngjae once desired to protect so dearly.

“Is there no shelter you can find?” Youngjae asks, to which Daehyun shakes his head.

“Most of those I've found are full. It is winter, after all,” Daehyun utters quietly. There's snow trapped in his hair and the edges of his worn-out jacket. He's heavily underdressed, clad in only a thin long-sleeved shirt and tattered track pants. Junhong dons a torn winter jacket much too big for him, along with smudged pants and a sullied tee shirt.

“The others are kind of dangerous,” Daehyun says and glances briefly at Junhong still happily eating. “But it's alright. There are some corners that can keep us warm.”

“But we keep getting chased out,” Junhong pipes in crossly. “If I weren't there, hyung would have won all the fights. Mm!”

“What are you saying?” Daehyun hisses, frown carved into his face. “What do you mean if you weren't there?”

“You can't fight the bad guys with me there, hyung,” Junhong mumbles, eyes trained on the floor as guilt drips from his tone. "Because of me, they hurt you."

Daehyun's face falls and he croaks out, “You're saying nonsense.”

Before Junhong can protest, Daehyun wrings an arm around him, feeding him gently.

Youngjae feels his insides crumble up. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate, gazing at Junhong finishing his meal. He reaches over to clean off some sauce on Junhong's chin and smiles delicately at him. Youngjae tries not to imagine the boy huddled up in a corner of an alleyway clogged with snow, shivering. How can such an emaciated boy be out there in the merciless cold, what more starving?

Let's watch the flowers bloom in spring together.

The pair finish their meal and after Youngjae pays, he gestures to the display fridge. “Let's get you two some sandwiches,” Youngjae hums. He flashes a smile at Daehyun, quelling the protests in him, and leads an exuberant Junhong to the counter.

“Can I have that one, hyung?” Junhong looks up at Youngjae with large eyes, poking at the glass.

Youngjae nods, bending down to his height and whispering, “Which one do you think your brother would like?”

Hyung will bring you to the beach when it's summer.

Junhong scrunches up his nose, diligently analysing the sandwiches on display before poking at one. “This one!” He exclaims gleefully and Youngjae threads his fingers through the boy's hair tenderly.

They make their purchase and end up under a lamppost in the middle of the street. The temperature has dropped to a negative sixteen degrees celsius, and yet the pair have no complaints whatsoever.

“Thank you, hyung,” Junhong bleats, tugging at Youngjae's jacket with an incandescent, sunny smile. “Thank you,” he repeats again, this time softer and with his arms around Youngjae and nose nuzzled into the nurse's coat.

We'll jump into a pile of leaves in autumn.

“Thank you, Mr. Yoo,” Daehyun says while bowing, sincerity trickling from his coarse voice. “I'm sorry I can't pay you back. Thank you so much.”

Daehyun takes Junhong's hand and tightly intertwines their fingers. A gust roars past them, igniting a quiver from Junhong. Youngjae can't stop the haunting images from dashing through his mind. Sometimes, he still thinks if he goes back to the hospital to that same ward, Minhyun will be sitting in bed with his familiar boyish grin.

He won't survive the winter. The dreaded whispers of doctors and nurses in low tunes are still fresh in his memories. Youngjae winces.

“It's nothing,” Youngjae answers and shifts his foot submerged in the thick snow. Even he is shuddering, though he's clothed in thermal wear.

“Where will you go now?”

Daehyun hesitates for a second and replies, “We'll find a place. Thank you for everything.”

The light above them glimmers off Junhong's clear orbs, yet they fail to chase away the mist glazing Daehyun's eyes. It's too cold, much too cold, and Youngjae wonders if the winter had stolen all his faith along with the light he'd been holding on to so desperately.

Daehyun bows once again and Junhong waves fervently as they walk away. There's white everywhere, falling upon Junhong's hair, his petite built wrapped with his brother's arm.

It's freezing. Youngjae's home has been a little too empty these few days.

So promise hyung you'll brave the winter.

“Wait, Mr. Jung,” Youngjae calls out, chasing after them. The pair stop in their tracks and spins around. There's a surge of warmth coursing through him as he breathes out, “Would you like to live with me?”

Daehyun's eyes widen, evidently baffled. Youngjae's honestly not sure if it's the right decision to make, what with them having just met, but he's willing to take a leap of faith if it means saving someone and melting his frozen hope.

Junhong parts his lips in surprise, trying to process what he heard. Youngjae kneels down before him and takes his hand. “What do you think?” He softly asks.

“No,” Daehyun answers for him, squatting with Youngjae upon feeling discomfort from looking down at him. “We- we couldn't,” Daehyun stutters, though he looks torn between accepting the offer for his brother and declining it in fear of burdening Youngjae. “You're too kind.”

“It's fine,” Youngjae says as he draws circles into Junhong's bony hand, gazing up at the still shocked boy.

“You shouldn't do this for us,” Daehyun replies and diverts his conflicted gaze from Junhong to Youngjae. “Thank you but we just can't do this to you.”

“Mr. Jung-” The nurse is about to respond when he hears a soft sob from Junhong, the boy's eyes welling up with tears.

It's second nature to pull Junhong towards him, gently edging the boy's face into the crook of his neck. Junhong's back, he flashes a pleading look to Daehyun. Daehyun folds his lips into a thin line, staring up at the unwavering snow and swallowing thickly. He's aware his brother can't go on much longer without a proper shelter and sustenance.

Daehyun finally relents and drops to his knees, head meeting the quilt of snow shrouding the pavement.

“Thank you,” he rasps, alarming Youngjae as the flustered nurse tries to get him to stand. "Thank you, Mr. Yoo. Thank you so much. I'm so sorry we have to burden you like this."

After a long mantra of apologies and thanks, Daehyun finally rises unsteadily with Youngjae. Junhong is still crying, now curled up under Youngjae's arm.

It's the first time Youngjae has seen Daehyun's eyes glow, and it's because he's holding back his tears. Daehyun bends down and Junhong's face lovingly, wheezing, “Don't bother hyung too much, okay? Take care of yourself and don't be naughty. Sleep early and don't skip meals.”

He wipes away the mucus running down Junhong's face and smiles. Daehyun bows deeply to Youngjae and backs away, much to the nurse's confusion.

“Thank you so much for taking Junhong in,” he says, voice quivering. “I can't thank you enough or ever repay you for your kindness. Thank you so much.”

“Hyung?” Junhong blubbers out as Daehyun retreats further. Youngjae steps forward and reaches out for the distancing man.

“Mr. Jung! I'd like the both of you to live with me...”

"No, I- I couldn't. We'd be too much of a burden together. Thank you so much; I can't tell you how thankful I am," Daehyun breathes.

"Mr. Jung-" Youngjae calls out again hastily but Daehyun simply bows once more and walks off.

“Hyung...” Junhong whimpers weakly, wet warmth still streaking down his white cheeks.

Youngjae quickly lets go of the boy and squats in front him. “Junhong, go after your brother. You won't live with me if it means leaving him anyway, am I right?”

Junhong nods fervently before bolting down after Daehyun.

"Hyung!" He catches his brother in a hug, arms coiled around Daehyun's waist tightly. Youngjae momentarily hears Daehyun trying to usher an adamant Junhong back to him and the nurse catches up with the duo.

“Mr. Jung, Junhong refuses to leave your side,” Youngjae's tone writhes with plea. Daehyun ceases his attempts to heave Junhong off him and gives in to embracing him, cupping the boy's sullied cheeks.

“Please,” Youngjae entreats and Daehyun deviates his unsure stare from Youngjae to his younger, snivelling brother. He knows he can't bear to be separated from Junhong.

The sigh Daehyun releases is a weird concoction of relief, anxiety, hesitance and hope. He blurts out yet another stumbling chain of utterly grateful “thank you”s, Minhyun's silouhette drifting in his mind. The watery smiles on both Daehyun and Junhong's faces is enough to make the winter just a little less chilling for Youngjae.