The snow began melting from the bright sun that glowed in the sky. It was the first clear sky in a while, but it made Yoongi scowl so he pulled the curtains closed. He yawned and leaned against the wall by the window. The night before, his sleep was disturbed with another severe asthma attack; he had been getting them every other night and earning him less sleep than he wanted.

The room was quiet except for the sound of machines hanging from the walls. He had some wires taken away, but others replaced with newer ones of more advanced technology. He recently had to get a CAT scan of his lungs and veins to make sure there was enough oxygen in his system. But that was not what kept his mind busy.

It was two weeks, maybe three. Yoongi was never good of keeping track of time. Several Mondays passed since the day that made his heart ached. The day after it happened, Yoongi walked by the bedroom, hoping to see Jimin sitting beside his father, laughing over the dumbest things. But instead, the bed was bare and Yoongi’s chest thumped in pain.

Yoongi hadn’t seen Jimin since then.

He understood the reasoning though; he originally came to see his father, but stopped by Yoongi’s room as an act of passing time. It must have gotten lonely visiting someone he wasn’t able to laugh with, to ask for help on homework or share stories to. Yoongi came to terms with the idea that the Monday he left him the grey paper crane was his last visit.

He wasn’t happy about it, in fact, it broke his heart, and he longed to hear Jimin’s bubbly laughter. To see his smile light up the room every time he walked in. But Yoongi had to accept it; he knew there was only so long Jimin would visit him. Besides, Yoongi was already happy with way it was before Jimin had interrupted his silence months ago, wasn’t he?

The regret of leaving Jimin that day still hung heavily on his shoulders.

There was a light knock at the door and Yoongi spun around. “Sorry to interrupt your thoughts, but it’s time for another blood draw.” A nurse entered the room with a tray of tubes and a syringe, approaching his bed. Without a reply, Yoongi sat on his bed, lifting his arm toward her.

Every Monday, or rather every day of the week, whenever someone went into his room, Yoongi would glance at the door with a hopeful look, silently wishing he would see the pumpkin hair that glowed against the light, the bright smile across the boy’s face.

Yoongi felt a small prick on his arm and flinched lightly. He bit his lip and looked away, his eyes searching around the room. He desperately wanted a distraction, but he wasn’t there.

“All finished.” The nurse covered his arm with a Band-Aid before exiting the room. Yoongi remained on the bed, his eyes glued to the floor.

He was wrong, he was so wrong. Yoongi had never felt so empty, so alone. He didn’t understand how he was so easily able cope with the silence those months before Jimin’s regular visits.

Yoongi needed that happiness that filled him up each week, those dumb stories he listened to, the comforting presence that sat by his side.

He needed Jimin.

A small cough interrupted his thoughts and Yoongi spun around, his heart skipping a beat as soon as his eyes made contact with the dark eyes of the familiar figure. His hair was still orange, very faded, but orange nonetheless. His cheeks were thin, the circles around his eyes were dark and sunken and his skin grew pale, but there was still a smile on his face. “Min Yoongi.”

Without hesitation, Yoongi pulled the wires off of him, tossed off the oxygen tube under his nose and rushed toward him, putting his hands on his bony shoulders. “What are you doing here? What happened to you? Have you eaten? Are you…okay?” Yoongi showered him with questions but only a laugh resonated through his ears.

“Don’t worry about me, Min Yoongi, I’m fine. What about you? Why did take off the oxygen? You need to wear it.” Jimin nudged him back to the bed; carefully putting the oxygen tube back on Yoongi’s face  “I hope you haven’t had dinner. I bought you a surprise.” Smiling, Jimin set a plastic bag on Yoongi’s bed desk. “Pork skewers, I went to the restaurant down the street and ordered some. We can finally have it together.”

Yoongi only stared at Jimin with concern. Amongst the broken appearance, he had a smile on his face. But it was unlike any smile Yoongi had ever seen. There was no life in it, no happiness. He was forcing himself.

“Jimin…” Jimin perked up as if he just remembered something and dug through his backpack. “That’s right, I have this one homework assignment from my music class that I’m just struggling with. I thought, since you’re the music expert here, you can help me with it!” He giggled and set the paper on Yoongi’s desk.

“Jimin.”

“What is it?”

“You don’t have to hide it.” Yoongi said quietly, as gently as possible. “You don’t have to keep smiling like that every day. You’re a human being. You're allowed to hurt, to feel pain.” He stood beside Jimin with a concerned expression. “You can cry in front of me.”

As of that was what Jimin needed to hear, the smile faded and pain flashed across his eyes. Tears flowed down his cheeks and a hiccup came out of him. “Min Yoongi, he’s gone.” His voice quivered as Yoongi bit his lip painfully and wrapped his arm around his thin shoulders. “I know.” He whispered, feeling his shoulders quiver under his embrace. He couldn’t imagine the stress Jimin had to hold in the past year, did he ever have the chance to let go of himself like this? Or was it all balled up inside, slowly building up day by day until it was ready to detonate like a bomb? 

Even the happiest souls can be the most broken ones.

Tears dripped down Yoongi’s face. It hurt to him see his radiating Sun falter like this, but it was good for Jimin to release his emotions before they got the best of him.

“I felt so alone.” He hiccupped. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s okay.” Yoongi whispered. “You’re here now. You’re not alone anymore.” Yoongi realized this entire time; Jimin was just as lonely, just as deprived of happiness as he was.

Jimin let his tears pour out for as long as he body would allow him. After soaking Yoongi’s shoulder, the exhaustion got the best of them and they soon fell asleep on the bed, Yoongi’s arms wrapped protectively around Jimin’s shoulders, his nose nuzzled in his soft, pumpkin hair as the room was silent except for the steady beat of Yoongi’s heartbeat.

The nurse came into the room to inform Jimin that visiting hours were up, but once she witnessed the two getting the most peaceful sleep they’ve probably had in days, she only smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her. She would have found a way to convince the head nurse to let Jimin stay for the night.

----------

“Min Yoongi.” Yoongi looked up from his breakfast at Jimin who sat on the other side of the table, on the foot of his bed. The dark circle around his eyes faded and he had more happiness in his eyes. “What is it?” The lamb skewers he bought over last night were forgotten and ended up going bad, Jimin made a promise earlier to take Yoongi to the restaurant and properly eat them.

“What are you hospitalized for?”

Yoongi set his chopsticks down and grew silent. He knew that Jimin was going to ask one day, but he never though that it would have been at that moment. “It’s a lung disease.” He stated flatly, as if he had said this hundreds of times before. “I get asthma attacks and I have to be hooked up to oxygen because my lungs don’t do well without the support.”

“How bad is it?”

“The asthma attacks are happening more frequently. At this point, I can’t breathe on my own without relying on the ventilator.” Yoongi ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. Jimin bit his lip as concern flickered in his eyes. “It’s okay though, really. I’m on a new set of medicine, the doctor says I should be really hopeful about this one.”

“How long have you had it?”

“Since I was ten.”

Jimin was silent for the rest of breakfast. Yoongi wasn’t used to the unsettling silence, but he understood, for he feared for his own health too. How much longer did he have before his lungs collapsed on him? He bit his lip, replaying the imaginary scene in Busan to distract him from the thought.

That afternoon, Jimin told Yoongi that he had to leave for Busan for a while to have a funeral with his family and help them grieve.

“You’ll come back soon, right?”

“I don’t know how long it will be, but I promise you as soon as I get off the train, I’ll run straight over here.” As a way of keeping the promise, Jimin took Yoongi’s hand, setting an object in it before pulling him into a tight embrace. He then left his room with a wave and a smile, a real smile.

With a smile on Yoongi’s face as well, he watched the pumpkin haired boy leave the room. “Until then.” He said to himself and glanced down in his palm.

The paper crane cradled in his hand was mint again.