21 :  a l m o s t  t h e r e

“We’re going shopping!”

“No, Donghae, no,” Kyuhyun declined, flapping the newspaper in his hands before cracking it open. “We’re not.”

“But I need a suit,” Donghae bargained. He had his hands clasped together and his eyes were glassy—Kyuhyun had since learnt that this was his I’m begging you, please look, and he no longer fell for it.

“You don’t need a suit.” Kyuhyun said firmly, glossing his eyes over a grayscale page. “It’s a trial, not a black tie event. You’re not going to be walking a red carpet, Hae.”

“But—”

“Just wear the suit I gave you,” Kyuhyun deadpanned. “The one I gave you for your birthday last year.” He lowered the newspaper and snuck a glance at a very pouty Lee Donghae. In his heart of hearts he admitted that the sullen man (and his adorable sulking) did tug a little at his heartstrings, but that was not enough to convince him to go shopping. He laughed.

“Stop it,” Kyuhyun warned playfully. “You know I can’t stand it when you sulk.”

Donghae brightened up immediately, thinking that his little scheme had worked. “So you’ll come with me?”

“Yes.”

“To shop?”

“Yes and no,” Kyuhyun said softly, raising the newspaper again. “I’ll take you to your favourite dessert place, and you’ll shut up about shopping. Plus, if you’re extra cooperative by wearing the olive green suit on Thursday, I might even take you to the ice-skating rink.” Kyuhyun almost couldn’t believe himself, but he supposed that after so many years of knowing the bloke, he shouldn’t be surprised that bargaining with Donghae sounded a lot like coming to a compromise with a twelve-year-old.

Donghae folded his arms, rising to his feet.

“Fine, Mr Smart Alec,” he hissed. Kyuhyun noted the pettiness in his voice. “I’ll do what you want but you’ll have to take me and Hyukjae to the rink.”

“The idiot can’t even walk—”

“—after he recovers. Or else.”

Kyuhyun’s eyes rotated like a revolving door.

“Fine then,” he sighed. “I’ll take you and Spineless to the ice-skating rink.”

“Do not call him that!”

“Or what?”

“Or—” Donghae kicked his best friend square in the shin, to which Kyuhyun winced and drew his legs up to his chest with gritted teeth, letting out the most anguished groan he could manage.

“What the is wrong with yo—”

“—everything. And it’ll get a lot worse if you keep treating me like a child, you .”

Kyuhyun tossed the newspaper aside and rubbed his legs like a magic lamp. “Good to know the old Lee Donghae is still alive and kicking, quite literally.”

“The old Lee Donghae was never gone, you asshat.”

Thursday. Thursday was all Hyukjae could think about as he laid on his back, staring at the ceiling of the hospital. His mind kept going over the same questions again and again, i.e. Am I really siding with a lover I haven’t seen in years and filing a lawsuit against my own family? Will I ever see them again? Will they disown me? Do I really hate them that much to have cut ties with them? He let out an audible sigh, and to his side. How did it all come to this, he asked himself rhetorically. He listened to the squeaking of rusty wheels rolling down the hallway and instinctively pushed himself up onto his elbows. Time for lunch.

“Thank you,” Hyukjae smiled as the nurse placed a bowl of bland porridge onto his overbed table. She poured him a glass of water and handed him a set of plastic cutlery (to which Hyukjae scoffed—why would he need a fork or knife for ty porridge, anyway).

“Eat,” was all the nurse said before whisking the trolley towards the next patient. Hyukjae groaned and stared as the second hand ticked by on the wall clock across from his bed. Where are they?

The door swung open right on time. In walked Donghae with a bouquet of sunflowers, beaming.

“Hello, Hyuk.” Donghae grinned like his life depended on it, and in return, Hyukjae mirrored the bright smile.

“Hello, Hae.”

“Look what I brought for you!” Donghae reached for his fiancé’s hands and pressed the bouquet into them. “Sunflowers!”

“Sunflowers,” Hyukjae repeated, sniffing. “Why sunflowers?”

Donghae dusted his hands and sat on the edge of the bed. “Because,” he began, “you’re my sun and I’m your sunflower. I thrive because of you, and I look up to you.”

“You’re my sunflower.” Hyukjae echoed.

“That’s right.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I do too,” Donghae laughed. His eyes trailed towards the bowl of white gunk on the overbed table. “Lunch?”

“Lunch. Just not this one.”

Donghae took that as a cue to grab the wheelchair leaning against Hyukjae’s bed, informing a nurse that he’d be taking Hyukjae out for a while.

The route towards the hospital’s cafeteria was a smooth one; barely anybody apart from the hospital staff, some visitors and patients roamed the grounds on a weekday noon. They stopped by a table near the stalls. Donghae parked his fiancé’s wheelchair next to it.

“What do you want, baby?” He asked, looking at Hyukjae tenderly. Hyukjae looked from menu to menu, pursing his lips.

“Jjampong-myeon.”

“Really?” Donghae asked with a perfectly justified hint of irritation in his voice—it’d been months and each time he visited him, he’d asked for the same thing.

“What? I just like my jjampong-myeon, even if it’s a ty hospital version of it.”

Donghae sighed in defeat. “You’re lucky I love you. Wait here.”

It’s not like I can get up and run, Hyukjae thought as he watched Donghae walk towards a stall at the end of the row. His eyes trailed from the back of Donghae’s head to his hips, and then his—I need to get laid asap—tight, perky , before going down his legs, to his ankles. He his lips. Only he knew that he’d done that because of his fiancé, and not the tantalising smells of food in the air. Just then, the screech of a chair and a slam on the table startled Hyukjae out of his trance. He jumped. Sitting across from him was a lady in sunglasses, a big sun hat and a grey scarf that hid the lower half of her face.

“Drop the case.” The voice was completely unfamiliar. It was raspy and dull and indignant. “Drop the case, or else.”

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hyukjae stammered. “I don’t know what you’re threatening me for. I don’t know you.”

“But I know you,” the lady reassured, “and I know that if you don’t drop the case, Lee Donghae will die.”

Hyukjae’s mouth went dry. . This has to be Sora’s doing. What if they kill Donghae? What if they really kill Donghae a day before the trial? Oh my god. The lady tipped her sunglasses, and Hyukjae could almost see the evil in her irises.

“Lose the case, or lose the love of your life. The choice is yours.” The lady stood up and proceeded to leave. All Hyukjae could do was to watch as her back got smaller and smaller, disappearing into the lunch crowd. Donghae returned moments later with a tray of food, smiling.

“What did I miss?” He asked, setting the tray onto the table. He barely noticed how notably shaken his fiancé was as he placed bowls of food onto the table. “Hyukjae?”

“H-huh?”

“What’s wrong?”

Hyukjae blinked and shook his head profusely.

“N-nothing,” he stuttered. “Nothing at all. Let’s just eat.”

Donghae eyed him suspiciously. “Okay. Okay, let’s eat.”

“Something’s wrong,” Donghae presumed. “I can tell by the look on your face.” He pushed the wheelchair up a ramp, entering the lift lobby. Hyukjae kept mum, and in all honesty, he didn’t know what to say, or how. He figured he’d have to give some sort of excuse for his ty acting, though.

“I don’t think I’m feeling too well,” he lied, faking a cough. He crossed his fingers, praying that Donghae was too oblivious to notice the shakiness in his voice. Luckily for him, Donghae, thankfully, had the attention span of a goldfish and got distracted by the ding of a lift like a dog to a squirrel.

“Let’s get back to the ward.”

The journey back to the ward was silent. Neither of them even attempted to break it; Hyukjae knew better than to hold a conversation considering his unbelievably horrible skills at lying, and Donghae felt like he should at least try to give Hyukjae some space (despite almost always wanting to cling onto him like a koala). They were greeted by the sight of Kyuhyun and Jungsu, sitting on chairs by the bed.

“Kyu? Jungsu-byeonhosa?” Donghae called, mildly in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“You forgot to tell him, didn’t you?” Jungsu lamented, turning to Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“I’m only human,” he argued, embarrassed. “Anyway, Hae, we’re here to get Hyukjae to read some documents and sign some forms as a witness. Jungsu-byeonhosa realised he’d overlooked it and he needs the forms signed asap so he can hand them in to the officials. See? Even a lawyer can forget things, let alone me.”

Donghae sent his best friend a look of annoyance. “Okay, fine. I’ll help Hyukjae onto the bed and leave you guys to it.” Donghae said firmly. Donghae lowered one of the bed’s side rails and lifted Hyukjae off the wheelchair, hooking his arms underneath the latter’s pits. Once Hyukjae was on the bed comfortably, Donghae folded the wheelchair and placed it in the wedge between the bed and the bedside table before exiting the room. He waited impatiently against a wall in the hallway.

“Drop the case.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, drop the case.”

Kyuhyun and Jungsu stared at Hyukjae quizzically, as if he’d said the most ridiculous thing possible. Hyukjae maintained his stand, glaring back at them whilst chewing his lower lip. In all honesty, he didn’t know what to do next in this predicament.

“Weren’t you the one who gave me all this money to hire you a good lawyer for a case against your lunatic family?” Kyuhyun chided. “What’s gotten into you, birdbrain?”

“Someone threatened me,” Hyukjae said quietly, looking around to make sure no one had heard him. “Someone warned me to drop the case, or else Donghae would die.”

Jungsu looked from one to another, huffing. “Who threatened you?”

“I don’t know,” Hyukjae shrugged. “Recognised neither the face nor the voice. She didn’t give me a name either.”

Jungsu hummed pensively. “Perhaps your family hired someone to threaten you so they wouldn’t be caught in public talking to you, considering that you’re filing a case against them.”

“Perhaps.”

“But why now? Why are they doing this a day before the trial?” Kyuhyun butted in. The three of them began to crack their heads for an answer but to no avail. Hyukjae snapped out of his thoughts and gripped at the sheets.

“Donghae.” He growled. “Donghae. Where’s Donghae? Don’t let Donghae out of our sight!”

Kyuhyun grabbed him by the shoulders. “Easy, birdbrain, easy. I’ll go get Donghae. He’s outside. He’s waiting for us to be done. Jungsu-byeonhosa, you can get started with the forms. I’ll go get Donghae.”

Jungsu nodded and proceeded to unclasp his briefcase, unearthing a thick stack of documents for Hyukjae to read through (and sign). Kyuhyun, on the other hand, left the room in search of his brown-haired best friend.

But Donghae was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh .”

“Thank you!” Donghae exclaimed as the cashier handed him a receipt. He’d been roaming around a candy shop at the basement despite previously muddling over the irony of having a sugar loaded store in a hospital (where patients—including diabetics—are treated). He unwrapped his lollipop and tossed the wrapper into a bin, sticking the hard candy into his mouth. He began to roam from store to store, fiddling with odd knick knacks and novelty items on the shelves of some stores, oblivious to the buzzing of his phone. By the fourth store, Donghae had gotten bored. He whipped out his phone and nearly choked and swallowed his lollipop whole at the sight of 32 Missed Calls. Oh no.

“Kyu?” he cried as soon as he’d called back. He heard the tussling of hair, followed by the crackling of the line.

“Lee Do—” the line crackles “—nghae! You little imbe—” more crackling “—cile! Where the hell are you?!”

Donghae frowned at the unwarranted name-calling. “I’m at the basement because I got bored waiting for you bozos to be done.” He refrained himself from singing the next line to a famous song by MAGIC! “Why you gotta be so rude?”

“Okay first of all, you know rudeness is a personality trait of mine. Secondly, you scared me less. Quit putting your phone on silent mode, you dingbat! And stay there! I’m coming to get you.”

“But I—”

“I’M. COMING. TO GET YOU.” Kyuhyun almost roared. “Stay there.”

The line crackled and cut off before Donghae could say anything. He sulked (as always) and on his lollipop, resting the ball of sugar on the inside of his cheek. He stood outside a novelty store and waited for his best friend to come pick him up, and as soon as Kyuhyun showed, he flipped him the bird.

“.”

“Thanks,” Kyuhyun said snidely. “You owe it to Hyukjae and I that you’re alive at this very moment.”

“What do you me—”

“Someone threatened Hyukjae to drop the case or get you killed,” Kyuhyun growled, yanking on his best friend’s arm and dragging him in tow. They kept silent until they’d gotten into an empty lift. Kyuhyun jabbed at the number eight and sighed, turning to his puzzled friend.

“In other words,” he whispered, even though there was no one in the lift but them, “if we don’t drop the case and leave you out of our sight even for a second, they might send someone to kill you.”

“They?” Donghae questioned, confused.

“Who else?”

“Oh.”

Donghae could feel his skin crawl. He fought back the flashbacks of the car accident; both the one his parents had died in, and the one that got Hyukjae warded. He didn’t know what to feel about being at the top of someone’s hit list, even though he was very much a victim in both cases.

“Just stay within our line of sight, okay Hae? It’s the least you could do for yourself, and for Hyukjae.” Kyuhyun trailed off. He didn’t like how serious he sounded, however, so he decided to add some snarky commentary at the end. “I mean, I couldn’t care less. I’ve tolerated nearly two decades of your insufferable and that’s more than enough, but I figured the dumb redhead in Room 4 still needs you.”

“Gee, Kyu, thanks a lot.”

“You’re most welcome.”

On Thursday morning, Donghae found himself staring into his dressing wall mirror, pulling cufflinks through the holes of his sleeves. He’d decided to pair a white dress shirt with his olive green pants, forgoing its matching blazer. In its place, he’d tied a thin black tie around his neck loosely. He scanned his eyes over the fading scars that marked parts of his face. He almost couldn’t believe that today was the day.

On the other side of the room, Kyuhyun was going through various documents that Jungsu had ordered him to bring along to the court later that day. The first hearing would be taking place in approximately three hours, but Kyuhyun had decided that them being early beats them being late. This was serious business, after all, and they had to pick Hyukjae up anyway.

“I’m nervous.” Donghae confessed as he took a step back and sized himself up.

“You shouldn’t be.” Kyuhyun offered nonchalantly, flipping through a file. “We have enough evidence to send those motherers—wait, sorry—send Hyukjae’s family to jail.”

Donghae laughed. “Family. What is family, anyway?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Kyuhyun said softly, returning the file to the bag it came from. “For instance, I consider you my family, even though you’re a huge pain in the .”

“Likewise, Cho Kyuhyun. Likewise.”

They exchanged soft smiles. Kyuhyun walked over to his best friend’s side and gave him a tight squeeze.

“Let’s win this,” he uttered, rubbing Donghae’s back reassuringly. Donghae had tensed up a little—he really was nervous—but it didn’t take long for him to melt into his best friend’s arms. He knew that he shouldn’t have anything to worry about, not when they had Jungsu representing them. Over the course of months, he’d grown more confident of winning the case with Jungsu on their side. He still wondered how Kyuhyun had afforded the best attorney in town, though.

“All good to go?” Kyuhyun asked as he helped Hyukjae onto his wheelchair. Hyukjae was clad in a vintage sweater and jeans (he’d insisted on not wanting to turn up at the hearing in a hospital gown) and very much ready to put his former family behind bars.

“I’m good,” Hyukjae replied, nodding his head. Donghae frowned. He still couldn’t believe he’d be sending his own fiancé’s family to jail like this. I mean, yes, they were s and all, Donghae thought, but still. They’re his family. Or at least were. The trio left the hospital not long after, getting into Kyuhyun’s black sedan moments later. Kyuhyun drove them towards the supreme court with ease, almost taking his time, considering that they were more than an hour early to the hearing. In the backseat, Donghae was clinging onto a limp Hyukjae, frowning still.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asked his fiancé, looking up at him.

Hyukjae sighed, smiling. “Yes, Hae. For the millionth time, I’m okay.”

“But they’re your family.”

“And they’re the reason why yours isn’t around anymore,” Hyukjae countered. “From the moment I found out about that, my family was dead to me. I’m okay, Hae. Really. I can do without them.”

Donghae nearly choked on his tears. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Hyukjae denied, “I am. I’m sorry you’re going through all of this because of me, but I’m not going to focus on the negatives. I have you and you have me, and that’s all that matters.”

Kyuhyun coughed, taking a peek at them in the rearview mirror. “You guys remember I exist, right?”

“Sorry, asshat.”

“Shut up, dingbat.”

“Heh.”

The rest of the ride to court was silent, but it wasn’t an awkward sort of silence; it was very much comfortable, reassuring even. The ride to court had the same calming effect on Donghae as the foamy waves of a sea crashing against the seashore—Donghae had always been a sea type of person, anyway, and it made him feel free. Maybe soon, they’d be free from the shackles this wretched life had clamped them in.