We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.

-Plato

Taemin cannot sleep that night. He turns, groans and sighs, worrying about Kibum.

Finally, at one-forty-five A.M., Minho jumps out of bed with a frustrated look on his face.

“Taemin!” he shouts. “Sleep, for God’s sake!”

Wide-eyed, Taemin jumps up, his lower lip quivering. He clutches his blankets, eyes unfocused, and Minho’s heart melts. He feels pangs of guilt stab him when a small tear rolls down Taemin’s cheek.

“Minnie,” Minho breaths, apologies at his lips. “I-”

“No,” Taemin sniffs. “Don’t talk, please,” his thin shoulders wracking with heavy sobs. “Pl-please,” he reaches a hand out. “H-hold me,”

Minho rushes forward and cradles Taemin, rocking them back and forth.

“Don’t cry, baby,” Minho whispers. “I’m sorry I yelled,”

“I’m sorry I disturbed you,” Taemin sobs. “I’m just so worried about Kibum-hyung. He hasn’t done anything to deserve this,”

Minho Taemin’s fluffy hair, and rubs his back.

“He’s so strong, a thousand times stronger than me- if I were him, I would have killed myself years ago- but h-he- he managed t-to-” Taemin starts hyperventilated, his breaths coming out too fast for comfort. Minho feels cold, ice-cold fear pour down his back.

“T-Taemin,” Minho stutters. “L-let’s go out, okay? You can c-calm down.” Minho takes Taemin’s hand and leads the crying boy out. In the stairwell, Minho cups Taemin’s jaw, and presses a kiss onto Taemin’s soft cheek. Taemin calms down, but tears still roll down his cheeks.

“He’s been there for me, Minho,” Taemin says. His voice is barely a whisper, but Minho can hear every breath, every hint of emotion in his voice. “Always. Even when we fight, he makes sure I’ve brushed my teeth and eaten my vegetables. Even when I yell at him and become a because of my blindness, he-” Taemin glances to the floor, hiding his face from the taller boy.

“He doesn’t deserve it, you know? Kibummie-hyung deserves so much better.” Taemin says.

“Taemin,” Minho says. He doesn’t know how to comfort the crying boy. “I owe Kibum-hyung everything, Minho.” Taemin says. His voice is stronger, less shaky. “I owe him my life. Literally.”

Minho stills at this. “Wh-”

“I met him in special school. Because I’m blind, I obviously couldn’t go to regular school, so my parents put me in special school…”

Flashback

“Kim Kibum!” the teacher called out. A twelve-year old Kibum raised a hand, enthusiastically yelling, “Here!”

“Kim Sojoon!”

“Present!”

“Lee Ahrae?”

“Here, Miss Park!”

“Lee Taemin!”

Silence. Kibum looked around, confusion on his young face.

“He was here this morning, Miss Park,” Kibum said, and the teacher looked over the heads of her students. “He’s not here now, Kibum,” she said, worry filling her heart. Taemin was an explosive child. He could get very upset, very fast. “Did he tell you anything, Kibum?” Miss Park asked. Kibum shook his head.

“Can I go look for him, Miss Park?” Kibum asked. Taemin was his best friend- he knew where the boy would go if he was upset. “I’m not sure, Kibum…” Miss Park hesitated.

“Please, Miss Park? I’ll be back soon with Minnie, I promise!”

“Okay, then…” Miss Park said. Kibum shot up and ran out.

He ran for the roof, two steps at a time. “Taemin-ah!” he yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Lee Taemin!”

There was no answer. Kibum felt chills run up his spine. “Taemin?”

Looking around once more, he concluded that the boy was not there.

The past few weeks, Taemi