Kihyun had gone to the hospital with Minhyuk those five years ago, leaving Jooheon and Changkyun alone to their own devices. Minhyuk had been silent all the way there, wringing his hands throughout the entirety of the train ride. Kihyun had kept a gentle hand on his knee, squeezing every so often to remind the slightly-older he was there and would always be there.

Little did they know how much would change after that one day…

They had made it just in time, Minhyuk’s mother being wheeled off to surgery after the boy had only had a few moments to wish the woman luck.

“I’ll be right here when you get out!!” Minhyuk had assured her, waving at her from the room.

“You two take care of each other,” his mother had said, her voice faint amongst the rattling beds and shouting doctors. “I love you, Moongie, I’ll always be with you.”

Minhyuk had felt a ball of grief clog up his throat, and he’d clutched onto Kihyun tightly as he responded.

“I’ll be right here when you get out.”

It’s all he could think to say, really. He didn’t want to say goodbye or how much he loved her, because he knew—just knew —that he’d have another chance.

As soon as the woman and her doctors disappeared behind the swinging doors, Minhyuk had collapsed against Kihyun with a wretched cry. Snot dripped from his nose, and he couldn’t quite breathe. Kihyun had shushed him, hugged him tightly as he’d guided his boyfriend over to the waiting area.

“She’ll be okay,” Kihyun had told her, his tone so sweet and kind. “This is the best hospital in the area. They’ll take care of her.”

Minhyuk didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. All he could do was cry. Kihyun had petted his hair and his back, rocked him back and forth until he’d eventually cried all the tears reserved within himself. His throat was raw. He couldn’t even breathe. He felt the initial heartbreak, then, of his mother’s impending death… Though, he had no idea how close that death would be until only two hours later.

Not until the doctor comes out, blood splattered across his otherwise markless surgical apron, informing him of how the relatively routine procedure went south faster than it could have been helped.

How he had lost his mother, having thrown away the last chance he could have told her he loved her.

Little did either man know, such a decline would have a domino effect that would inevitably lead them to where they are today…

Changkyun awkwardly shuffles where he stands, now in the back of the crowd of reporters broadcasting the ongoing battle. Jooheon stands beside him, though he shows no sign of acknowledging his presence for a second time. Changkyun even figures that the first time had been accident…

After all, why would Jooheon put an end to the freeze-out just to help him stand?

He can’t help but glance over every few seconds, bouncing on his heels. He knows he should be focusing on the battle, should be cheering for Kihyun and making sure he doesn’t need his help for even a second… But, he just can’t stop watching Jooheon out of the corner of his eye.

The older man has dyed his hair, something Changkyun would’ve thought impossible back in the day. It’s a beautiful, deep auburn-red, a color that makes Changkyun’s heart skip a beat… Of course, any color on Jooheon’s head would look beautiful in Changkyun’s mind.

No , Changkyun suddenly tells himself, gulping thickly. Don’t fall back into bad habits … After all, it had taken so long for the younger to get over those feelings throughout the long years.

Jooheon feels when Changkyun forces his eyes off him, though he doesn't react. He feels his heart skip a beat, he can tell the exact moment when it plummets to the hot concrete underneath his peeling shoes, but he doesn’t react. He doesn’t allow himself to react. He can’t show Changkyun weakness, hasn’t been able to ever since he chose Kihyun’s side.

The crowd around them suddenly shouts and jeers, and the sound pulls both men from their minds long enough to focus on the mouth of the alleyway. Though, there’s no one there. There’s a flash for only a moment within the alley itself, a blur of color that could only be one of the fighters swooping out of the alley and plummeting three blocks over.

Both men sigh, this being the worst part of their jobs as low-key sidekicks: having to chase after their heroes while they go at it.

“How much longer are we keeping this up, Min?” Kihyun pants out, listening easily as he hears the flock of onlookers rush after them. They have at least a moment to themselves, when they can speak freely. Minhyuk lies down on the ground, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he attempts at catching his breath.

“I… I don’t… know,” Minhyuk replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, filled with their simultaneous, struggling breaths. “Let’s give ‘em one last round at each other, then we can take the pills.”

“You and your theatrics…” Kihyun grumbles, though there’s a fond smile resting on his lips. Minhyuk peers up at the shorter man, smirking knowingly. They share a glance, and both chuckle simultaneously. Kihyun’s eyes remain on the slightly-older, his mind flashing back to the good days, back before everything got so utterly, irreparably twisted.

He stares for a moment too long, eyes clouded over with memories, and it almost feels just like those golden days, if not for their battleworn bodies and fragmented hearts. It hurts him, just a bit, but only because it always hurts to remember those days…

Kihyun’s just thankful he doesn’t have to feel such a pain any longer.