Every parting is a form of death, as every reunion is a type of heaven.

~~~~~~~~oooo~~~~~~~~

Dara sat unmoving at the foot of her bed, the small box on her lap held shadows from her dried tears. 
 

'Hi, it's GD. I'm pretty busy so I can't answer the phone right now. Just leave a message and I'll get back to you.'

She pushed the end button, pressed Jiyong's number again and laid the phone against her ear.

'Hi, it's GD. I'm pretty busy so I can't answer the phone right now. Just leave a message and I'll get back to you...'

The recording went on and on until she lost feeling on her fingers and the phone slid from her grasp. It bounced off the bed and ended on the floor. Outside her window, the sun began to set on the horizon, painting the sky shades of red and pink unfettered by the constantly moving clouds. In an hour, Hong would come and fetch her so they could leave for the airport. Dara's bleary gaze shifted toward the cabinet where Butler Kim stowed her luggage, the bright red a huge contrast with the white ts of the wooden dresser. He took it upon himself to come over and help her pack due to the fact that she was incapable of doing anything other than stare into space when Haein dropped her at her apartment. Her father was uncomfortable with the idea, but she told him she at least deserved to spend one last night at her own place. Not that she was able to get a wink of sleep even if she tried.

Looking down at the box on her lap, she lifted the cover and carefully took out Jiyong's braided cord, her eyes stinging at the memory of how he had discarded it so easily as if it meant nothing. He was angry, that part she understood. Didn't mean she wasn't hurting too. In her mind, everything happened differently. They were going to talk. She would tell him the truth and it would take time, maybe entail a few tears and arguments, but eventually he would come to accept it. She woud pack her bags, say her goodbyes, and then she'll leave. It's always better to just rip off the band-aid and get it over with. At least that's the lie she was telling herself because right now all she wanted more than anything in the world was to be with him. To hold Jiyong in her arms and tell him she loves him. To have his face and his smile the last thing she sees before she goes away.

Interestingly, fate possessed a dark humor because it chose that exact moment to execute its final verdict. Like shattered glass trying to pierce through her skull, Dara dropped to the floor and doubled-over, the box and its contents spilling around her in a pool of mess. A guttural scream tore through her body as the pain grew excruciating, her fingers threaded in her hair, grabbing the roots from her scalp in an attempt to alleviate the pounding in her head. Her chest rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths as she crawled to reach her phone, her fingers shaking while she dialed Jiyong's number. 

'Hi, it's GD. I'm pretty busy so I can't answer the phone right now. Just leave a message—'

"Ji..." a choked sob mingled with her words as tears streamed down her ashen cheeks. Her frenzied gaze stumbled around her room, desperately searching for any means of escape. I can't leave him like this, she thought through the haze. Summoning her remaining strength before the inevitable happens, she struggled to type something on her phone. The familiar ping of a text being sent made her sigh in relief, short-lived as it was as another ripple of pain made her scream. She gripped Jiyong's bracelet, her knuckles turning white as she convulsed, explosions of light blinding her vision. 
 

Please.

She was begging, but she didn't know for what. She was only aware of how entirely alone she was, of how the carpet was unusually rough against her cheek, and of how each breath she took felt like it's going to be her last. They say death is but the next great adventure.

Dara wondered if it was true as her eyes slowly fluttered to a close.

========

'Hyung? Where are you?' Daesung shouted on the other line.

'Is that Jiyong? Dude, hurry up! We've got firebombs here!!'

"Firebombs?" Jiyong asked while fastening the mask over his face as he entered the club.

'Relax, hyung,' Daesung chuckled. 'Seungri started mixing shots of vodka with tequila and called it firebombs. You know how crazy he gets during parties.'

Jiyong secured the cap over his head, his gaze swooping around the area. Man, the crowd tonight was pretty wild. He purposefully arrived late, thinking that most people would've left by now. Turned out he was wrong. He knew s invited him out so he wouldn't mope around his apartment, feeling sorry for himself. He initially didn't want to, but figured they were right. If he wanted to forget everything, he sorely needed the alcohol. He started searching for his friends through the gyrating bodies on the dance floor and almost gave up when he heard people chanting Seungri's name. Standing on his toes, he craned his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally spotted TOP's unmistakeable platinum hair floating in the midst of all this chaos. Dodging a few drunk people on the way and keeping his head low, he approached the gathering spectators. 

"Seungri! Seungri! Chug! Chug! Chug!"

Aiiisht, this idiot.

Bigbang's maknae was standing on top of the table, a tall glass of beer on one hand and a shot of greenish liquid on the other. He was nodding and encouraging people to shout his name. Jiyong was about to give him a piece of his mind when he spotted CL walking out of the private lounge, her face contorted in a frown. He thought she recognized who he was when she made her way toward his direction, but when he raised his hand to wave at her, she only passed him by without saying a word. "Chaerin-ah!" Jiyong called out as he followed her. Omo. This girl had amazing parkour skills. He was practically out of breath when he intercepted her on the way out. Taking hold of her arm, he whirled her around. She was about to deck him in the face, but thanks to his self-preservation skills, he was able to catch her hand in time. Daebak. What's with the sudden violence?

"Yah, duck face. It's me." He flicked her hard on the head. Jiyong wasn't sure what gave him away--either the ingenious name calling or his unique albeit sadistic show of brotherly affection, but she guessed his identity on the first try.

"Jiyong...oppa?" she leaned forward, trying to peek under his cap through narrowed eyes.

He released his grip on her hand and pulled his mask a bit lower to expose his face. "Paboya. Who else would it be?" Jiyong crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, hitching his foot on the wall behind him. The impromptu race with little Miss Goldilocks took him to the back of the club and since they were out of everyone's sight, he finally ditched the cap. "Are you drunk?" he inquired in a bored voice while rubbing his eyes tiredly. "In case you forgot, party's that way," he tilted his chin toward the commotion, shortly witnessing Seungri getting smashed at the center of it all. When he returned his attention to her, CL didn't even look like she heard a single word he said, her fingers furiously typing something on her phone.

"Yah, Lee Chaerin. Are you seriously going to--"

"Yoboseyo?" she answered the call and cut him off. "Unnie! Thank God you called. Your text left me crazy worried. What's going on? Uh-huh, uh-huh...are you serious?!" Her face grew paler by each passing second. "Jesus. Okay, okay. Which hospital is she in?"

Jiyong felt a chill run down his spine. She? Who did she mean 'she'?

"Arasso, arasso. I'm on my way."

"Who's in the hospital?" he immediately asked as soon as she hang up.

CL's face was stricken with anxiety as she fumbled with the pockets of her cargo pants. ". Where did I put those damn keys?"

"Who's in the hospital, Chaerin?" he repeated with more force than necessary, his jaw set in a hard line as he followed her toward the exit.

Biting her lip, she sent a wary look over her shoulder. "It's Dara. They found her unconscious at her apartment. She had another attack so they rushed her to the hospital."

M-mwo?? "Now hold on a second--" he forced CL to a stop, efficiently blocking her from taking another step. "Attack? What do you mean attack?"

"You know, her seizures?" she provided with furrowed brows, trying to gauge if he was bluffing or something. "She's had a few fainting spells in the last couple of weeks and it's gotten worse as of late. Bom said Dara and her father were supposed to leave for New York tonight so she could get the surgery, but then this suddenly happened..."

Jiyong ran a hand over his face and started pacing. "Surgery? What do you mean surgery? And since when did she have any seizures? Dara's young and completely healthy." He turned to her, eyes brewing with anger. "What the are you talking about, Chaerin?"

She studied him for a few moments before realization dawned on her. "Oh God...she didn't tell you, did she?"

His hands grew restless at his sides, his heart pounding hard in his chest. "Tell me what?"

With a forlorn expression, CL reached out and touched his arm. "Dara is sick."

"Sick? What do you mean sick? She's down with the flu or something? It's probably just the weather," Jiyong started to mumble, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. "I'm pretty sure—"

"She has cancer."

Jiyong froze, eyes wide, trying to comprehend her words. Cancer? Air stalled in his lungs, the feeling akin to being submerged in water. A strange ringing flooded his ears and he was barely aware of the noise around him, the party already gone from his mind. Dara has cancer?? My Dara? 

"No," he muttered, a humorless chuckle escaping him. "That's not possible. She's-she's okay. She's not sick. She can't be sick. You're mistaken."

"Oppa—" Her phone rang again and she swiftly fished it out of her pocket. "Hello?" Jiyong leaned closer, panic marring his features. "What?! Oh my God," she murmured, blood draining from her face. "Okay, okay. I'll drive as fast as I can."

"What is it? What happened?"

Her lips trembled, eyes welling up with tears. "Unnie's in critical condition. The doctors told them she might not make it."

Ice coated his skin. No, no, no. no! Swiping the keys from CL, he sprinted toward the exit.

=========

Seungho buried his head in his hands as he waited for the others to come. Once they wheeled Dara to the emergency room, he was asked by the medics to stay outside despite his insistence not to leave her side. Hong had dragged him to the waiting area, reminding him not to pull any unnecessary attention to himself and make everything worse. A nurse came by and asked the chairman to sign some papers, but he didn't even notice, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of his best friend.

"Seungho!" 

He lifted his head and watched a disheveled Jiyong running toward him. "Where is she? Where's Dara?"

Before he could answer his brother, a pair of hands grabbed Jiyong by the front of his shirt. "How dare you come here!" Chairman Park all but shouted, his body trembling with rage as he pinned the younger man to the wall. "My daughter wouldn't be strapped to a gurney if it weren't for you! Now she's dying and it's all your fault!!"

"Heojangnim—"

He bit him down with his gaze. "Stay out of this, Seungho!"

"I-I...didn't...know," he managed to say through the chairman's chokehold, voice hoarse with the lack of air to his windpipe. The way Dara had cried and begged for him to listen to her entered unbidden in his mind and he balled his hands into fists to keep from lashing out. "I didn't know." The grip on his shirt tightened and Jiyong knew Dara's father wanted to punch him then and there. 

Suddenly, the doors to the E.R. swung open and a doctor clad in blue scrubs hurried his way out, a deep furrow between his brows as he removed his mask. "Heojangnim," he bowed in greeting. The chairman begrudgingly removed his hold on Jiyong who lost his footing and stumbled backwards toward Seungho, the latter steadying him with his hand as he coughed.

"Dr. Han, what's going on?"

"We've transferred Dara to the operating room," he declared, a sheen of sweat forming on his forehead. "We need to perform a craniotomy on her and remove the tumor to avoid the risk of intracranial bleeding."

"But Dr. Scott—"

"Will not be able to make it in time. If we don't do it now, we're going to lose her."

"Jesus..." Chairman Park rubbed the back of his neck, trepidation rolling through him in waves. Behind him, Bom started to cry. CL's arms went around her shoulders to rub her friend's back.

"Dr. Peters is already in the O.R. prepping for surgery. I'm on my way there myself. He's a part of Dr. Scott's team and have spent two decades specializing in brain tumors. We've given him the rundown of Dara's situation and he says he's been briefed about it when he was in Boston. We're lucky he's here on a conference when this happened."

"Then I'll defer to your decision. Just please, do whatever you can to save her."

"We'll do our best." With a final nod, he turned and left them standing in the hallway.

Jiyong can't seem to wrap his head around what's happening. It didn't even make any sense. Dara was in perfect health. She shouldn't be experiencing seizures or have nosebleeds bad enough to make her faint. They were supposed to be celebrating and making plans for the future, discussing simple things like the style of her gown or where the reception would be held, how many kids they're gonna have, and whether or not they would spend their honeymoon in Paris. She shouldn't be in the hospital fighting for her damn life while he stood there, all useless and pathetic.

"If something happens," Chairman Park said in a hushed tone, a determined look in his eyes as he turned to glare at Jiyong. "If my daughter dies...There's not a thing in this world that can protect you from my wrath. Mark my words." Squaring his shoulders, he then stormed out the hallway, Hong following in his trail.

"He doesn't mean it," piped the elderly butler who had been standing silently at the corner throughout the whole exchange. "Dara is his only child. It's only natural that he feels distraught about the situation. We all are."

"What exactly happened, sir?" CL asked in a small voice. 

Knees seeming to protest from staying in one position for so long, Butler Kim shuffled toward the girls and took a seat beside them. "Dara was lying on the floor when Hong came to fetch her from her apartment. The doctors said if he'd been a minute late agassi would've-" he paused and picked a piece of lint from his sleeve, anything to avoid finishing the dire thought. "She was just lucky the tumor hadn't ruptured." 

"I don't understand," Jiyong muttered under his breath. "Why didn't she tell me?"

"Because she loved you too much," Bom sniffled, her eyes and nose red from crying. "That idiot always worries about everyone else before herself. She didn't even tell me she was leaving so I won't get distracted from my training." She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. "Dara's been sick for quite a while now. Brain cancer, my father said. Operable, but high-risk. After going through all types of pharmacological treatments, she simply grew tired of trying and wanted to live her remaining days as normally as she can. That's why she moved in with Yoo Jaesuk after the accident."
 

Is that what she wanted to tell him all along? Jiyong slid down the floor, head bent forward in an attempt to ease the dull ache blooming behind his eyes. He shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. He should've listened to her. Sluggishly, he retrieved his phone from his pocket and checked his call history. 

10 missed calls. 

All Dara's. He scrolled through his inbox and found several texts from her. A great tremor wracked his body as he read the recent message she sent him.

I want to see you.

Butler Kim cleared his throat. "She was holding this when Hong found her."

Jiyong raised his trembling chin and noticed the Kumihimo bracelet Dara had made hanging from the butler's grasp.

"I assume this belongs to you?"

Numbly, Jiyong nodded. Tiny bits of sand had seeped through the spaces when he had flung it to the ground. He tried plucking them out with his nail. Maybe if he stared hard enough at the patterns, it'll make the time go faster and maybe then, he'll wake up and realize this was just a nightmare. That none of this is real. That he's not in the hospital and Dara's not dying.

"It's all my fault," he cried, his fist meeting the stone cold floor. "I should've been there for her. I should've listened!" He banged his head on the wall repeatedly. "It's all because of my in' pride. I should be the one getting punished not her!"

"Enough, hyung." Seungho grabbed the back of Jiyong's head and stopped him from injuring himself further, "No one's at fault here. Nobody could've known." Jiyong continued to sob, his face buried under his brother's shoulder. "Shhh. It'll be okay. Dara's a fighter. She can get through this. She always has."

"Seungho's right," CL spoke calmly. "Dara unnie needs us to be strong for her."

The elderly butler nodded. "All we can do now is pray."

The hours passed; Jiyong didn't even know how long they've been waiting, only that the dread in his stomach was not going anywhere soon. The others had taken turns with buying some food or going to the toilet, but he had yet to move from his spot on the floor. At one point during the night, Seungho offered him a bottle of water, but he didn't take so much as a sip, his eyes fixed on Dara's picture on his wallet.

"They're done!" he heard Bom's voice on his right. He blinked repeatedly, slowly pushing himself off the floor to look at her rushing toward their direction. "They already transferred Dara to a private room," she explained. "Dr. Han said they have to keep her in an induced coma to give Dara's brain some time to heal, but otherwise the operation was successful."

"Oh thank God!" CL flung her arms around Jiyong's neck and hugged him. 

"Can we see her now?" inquired Seungho.

"Yes, but we can't do it all together."

Jiyong swallowed. Urging his feet to move, he let CL drag him toward the lift, his heart feeling like it was going to jump out of his chest at any second. When they arrived on the right floor, he overheard the chairman talking to the doctor along the nurse station. 

"...propofol will help maintain the burst suppression. If there's any adverse reaction to the drugs we've administered, we can change it to something else. Right now, all we can do is monitor her status and wait as her body recovers."

"How long will she be like this?"

"There's no definite baseline. Ideally, it's as long as it takes for the patient to heal..."

Jiyong stopped listening. Trudging forward, he brushed his hair away from his face and straightened his shirt in long nervous . He knew he must look worse for wear, what with all the dark shadows under his eyes, the small cuts on his face, and his bandaged hand from yesterday's incident. As he drew closer, he could hear Bom and CL talking, the whirring sound of machines almost drowning out their hushed conversation. He paused at the door and took in a deep breath before entering.

Dara laid on the bed, her small figure pale and still. A number of tubes, wires, and lines connected her frail body to machines that monitored her heart rate and controlled her breathing. He could see that they shaved part of her hair, the one covered by gauze and bandages. Despite the hollow tube on and the pulse oximeter attached to her finger, Dara looked like she was just sleeping. 

Jiyong closed the distance and reached out to gently take her cold hand in his.

"Dara," he sat down and whispered, soft enough that only she could hear. "I'm sorry." Biting his lip to control his emotions, he lifted her hand to his damp cheek. "I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I...I should've stayed. I should've been with you." 

He placed a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist.

"I love you, Santokki."

Suddenly, the machine started to make a shrill noise that sounded so much like an alarm. When he looked up, Dr. Han and a couple of nurses entered in a rush. 

"Please vacate the room immediately," the doctor said as he grabbed a small tray behind him. 

"What-what's going on?!" Jiyong was still holding Dara's hand, reluctant to let her go. 

One of the nurses explained it for him, voice firm as she went, "The patient is going into cardiac arrest. We kindly request you to stay outside, sir."

He shook his head. He's not going to leave her again. "No. I'm staying here."

"Sir, please," the nurse implored and tried to pry his hand from Dara's. "You're only going to be in the way."

Out of nowhere, Seungho appeared at his side and started dragging him. "She's right, hyung! C'mon!"

"Dara! No!!" he continued to lash out. "Dara!"

Panic engulfed his senses as he helplessly watched the doctor press Dara's chest over and over again, the combined noise of the machines getting louder, the staff reciting numbers and words he couldn't seem to hear from the sharp ringing in his ears. His vision blurred, everything around him moving at a slower pace as if time had gone sluggish itself. He was only aware of the pounding of his heart, robbing him of each breath. 

Then with just one act, everything stopped. 

Dr. Han removed his mask and slowly turned to look at them, a defeated expression plastered on his face. He bowed his head and muttered, "I'm sorry."

Behind him, the monitor continued its shrill noise, a straight line pictured on the screen.