XII

Bittersweet

Baekhyun’s first response is to laugh.

It’s strange, like listening to someone else’s voice through a glass wall, muffled, robotic, without a hint of any genuine emotion. But it’s the only thing that he can manage anyways.

“October,” he exclaims incredulously, but the words are still hard to get out. “That’s a dumb joke. She’s sick? Are you kidding me?”
 

Jongdae’s eyebrows knit together. “Does it look like I’m joking?”

No, he thinks, but the words don’t come out because it seems to be better if he tells himself Jongdae is joking. Because… it can’t be possible. It isn’t possible.

“You’re joking,” Baekhyun repeats dumbly, but he sounds stupid to himself. Nevertheless, he shakes his one more time at Jongdae and stands up abruptly from the couch. “That’s ridiculous. Why would she…”

He thinks of the calendar. Why does it only go up to October? he’d asked her, and Jonghui hadn’t really answered his question. There were many subjects she avoided, but… Baekhyun did too. He had assumed it was because she didn’t want to or didn’t trust him enough to tell him, and though it was somewhat hurtful at times… “That can’t be real.”

“Stop,” Jongdae says, shaking his head. “You’re making it worse.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me before?” Baekhyun shoots back, “You’re telling me now that she’s going to die in October? It’s August, for God’s sake!”

“Then what was I supposed to do?” Jongdae’s voice is rising, in a way that Baekhyun’s never heard before. In fact, Jongdae is rarely like this. And it’s scary in a way, because it makes everything more real. And Baekhyun doesn’t want it to be real, so he shakes his head again. “You’re lying.”

“I’m lying,” the other echoes, “Is that really what you have to say? Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

No, Baekhyun wants to say, but the words don’t come out either. His vision seems to blur, and everything around him is a mess of colors. He can barely concentrate on Jongdae’s face because of how much his head seems to be spinning. Jonghui? Impossible.

Impossible.

Improbable.

Possible.

Probable.

They’re vitamins, she’d informed him quickly.

He stands up on shaky feet. “What’s wrong with her, then? Why are you telling me this just now? Doesn’t that seem to be some sort of cruel joke on me? I tell you that I like her, and you tell me she’s not going to live over two months. Really, Kim Jongdae?”

“Stage four non-small cell lung cancer,” Jongdae says, robotically, as if something’s he’s memorized because he’s heard it so much. “The doctors said—”

“She’s twenty five,” Baekhyun says, though Jongdae’s words are still taking their time to sink in. It’s impossible. She should be healthy at such an age. She doesn’t smoke. She… it doesn’t make sense. As far as Baekhyun knows, it shouldn’t be happening to her.

“Don’t you think that makes it all worse?” Jongdae exclaims, standing up from the couch this time so he’s face to face with Baekhyun. He’s breathing hard, eyes livid and burning with a sort of emotion that Baekhyun can’t tell. “Jonghui said she took you to visit our mother. Do you know why she died? There’s a history of it on my mom’s side of the family, and even though Jonghui…”

He trails off then, blinking furiously. “And do you know how much it scares her because she’s probably going to die in two months? She’s keeping all this to herself because she doesn’t want to hurt you but in turn she’s hurting herself. No matter how cheerful she tries to be around you, Byun Baekhyun…” He breaks off, shaking his head, “And now—”

He breaks off. Then, abruptly, he turns away. Baekhyun’s too shocked to move, but Jongdae snatches up the umbrella from the side where he had set it to dry and pulled on his coat again. “Forget it. I don’t want to deal with you right now.”

Baekhyun stands still in the middle of the room, and the front door slams shut loudly behind Jongdae. The sound seems to echo endlessly in the silence, and even with the other gone, he stands in shock in the middle of the room as the rest of the world seems to collapse around him.

***

The clock in the kitchen reads a bit over seven o’clock, and Jongdae is still nowhere to be seen. Baekhyun watches listlessly as the sun begins to dip. It’s odd to think that’s it’s only been a day since he and Jonghui had walked down the shore, sand underneath bare feet and the ocean lapping at their heels. She’s gone at the moment, and instead of the sun disappearing behind a clear horizon, towering skyscrapers block the horizon. The cityscape is nothing compared to the ocean, and Baekhyun wishes that somehow the day at the ocean would repeat forever, when everything was perfect and happy.

Because it should be impossible. Something so unfair can’t be real. Because if she’s going to die in the end, what is the point of her being the person that found him? There’s no answers to all the questions, and, frustrated, Baekhyun glances out the window again. It hurts, but on the other hand, he’s too numb to feel anything. He thinks back to her calendar he saw — it had only gone up to October. She’s hidden it from him ever since he asked her about it the first time, but now it comes back to mind, and the worst part is that it makes sense. He still can’t quite understand why she choose to mark the days off one by one — that made it seem all the more scary — but everything else… makes sense in a scary sort of way.

The kitchen is getting dark, but Baekhyun doesn’t have the heart to turn on the light switch either. The only thing he can do is stare outside, the words it’s not true repeating through his head, but the only thing he can think about is the fact that it is true.

It’s not true. It can’t be happening. It’s unfair. It’s…

Baekhyun thinks of the downcast look on her face as she tells him she’ll celebrate his birthday with him on December 31st, the way her hands are pressed together when she made a wish on her birthday. It all adds up, but still, he wishes for it not to be true.

Jongdae’s voice also repeats through his head, the robotic tone, simply repeating something he’d heard one too many times. Stage four non-small cell lung cancer. And do you know how much it scares her because she’s probably going to die in two months?

The front door clicks open. For a moment, something tells him it’s Jonghui, and he perks up immediately. Then Jongdae steps through, the blue umbrella scattering raindrops everywhere, and Baekhyun slouches back into the chair.

The clock in the kitchen blinks in the dim room. 7: 29. It’s been hours since Jongdae left, and Baekhyun’s unsure of how long it’s been since he’s moved from his position at the kitchen table. He squints at Jongdae.

“Why is it so dark?” he asks.

“Where’s Jonghui?” he says instead.

“I told you. She’s spending the night with Joonmyeon and Jongin and I thought it would be better for her if she stayed there.”

There’s a moment of silence. Even bringing up Jonghui’s name feels hard. The fact that isn’t here brings a ridiculous sense of fear to Baekhyun that she’s already gone, and he hates it. It’s so unneeded and irrational, yet still, he’s afraid. It’s different to think back to past events too — they’re still the same memories, but for the some reason, he can only see them in a new, less bright light.

“How many hours have you sat there and moped?” Jongdae finally asks, reaching over and flicking on the light. “You didn’t even bother turning on the lights. I didn’t know you could sit still for so long.”

Baekhyun stares listlessly at Jongdae. He almost wishes now that Jongdae hadn’t told him such a thing. Everything makes sense now, but remaining oblivious seemed to be a better solution. Perhaps he would’ve gotten to return before October and wouldn’t have to experience any pain. If only I hadn’t kissed her.

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

Jongdae gives a sigh. “Do you think it’s easy for her to tell you? She’s strictly kept to herself and kept distance from her friends ever since she found out