chapter one;

I was barely three when Jongin came into my life. He became an orphan after his parents who also were my parents’ close friends passed away in a fire at their home, and he somehow miraculously survived the tragedy. Having been good friends for so many years, my parents decided to adopt him and raise him for them as they do not have any relatives.

I was barely three and was playing with my toy fire truck when they introduced him to me.  “This is Jongin,” they said, beaming. “From now on he’ll be your brother.”

Both of us said nothing to each other but simply had some sort of a staring contest while my father started the engine and began to drive away from the orphanage. His eyes, however, were not on me, but on my fire truck. After several minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

“Is that yours?” he asked, pointing at the toy truck.

I nodded, shifting my eyes to the truck for a second before returning them to him. “Yes. Why?”

“I saw them before. The real one,”

I didn’t really know what he actually meant, nor did I know how to respond to his words. So instead, I handed him the truck. “You can have it,” I told him.

At first, he was surprised. But slowly his lips curved into a smile and he held the truck tight in his hands. “Thank you, Suji.”

-

Technically, Jongin and I are of the same age since both of us were born in the same year. However, being born in January and ten months earlier than me, he insisted on being called oppa.

I don’t remember how the discussion started, but it was a one fine day in late spring when the weather was beginning to grow hotter and the air was getting drier. Dad brought us with him to the barber and had us wait for him while he was getting his hair cut. At that time, Jongin had already turned six while I was still five.

“You should call me oppa,” he told me.

Being the headstrong me, I had to argue back. “Why should I call you that?” I retorted.

“Because I’m older than you,” he pointed out.

“But we’re both are born in the same year.”

He was quiet for a while. I assumed he had rested his case, but then he repeated his words again. “Call me oppa,”

“Why?”

“So that I have a good reason to protect you in case you get bullied,”

I looked at him but his eyes weren’t on me. I took the opportunity to study his expression to find out if he was serious, but I couldn’t find a single trace that proved he was joking. I lifted my eyes away. “Okay,” I shrugged, then added, “oppa,”

Although I wasn’t looking at him anymore, I could feel his eyes on me after I said that word and I could see him grinning widely. He put a hand on me and ruffled my hair gently. “Thank you, Suji.”

-

That night after dinner, we both were playing together in the room that we used to share. Our parents were downstairs―mum cleaning up at the kitchen while dad was watching TV in the living. I sneaked into their room and went through mum’s sewing kit in search for the sharpest needle. Once I got it, I went back to Jongin’s room where he was waiting and we settled ourselves on the carpet beside his bed.

He took the needle from my hand, and as we sat facing each other, he looked at me with his forehead creased. “You ready?” asked him with a careful tone in his voice. I pursed my lips and nodded firmly. He then poked the index finger of his left hand deeply until it bled and did the same with mine.

We placed our bleeding fingers on top of each other and let our blood blend together. Jongin smiled. “From now on, you’re my blood sister,” he remarked.

“From now on, you’re my blood brother,” I returned, grinning.

When the bleeding finally stopped, we extended our pinky finger and linked them together as a symbol of a promise ― a vow that nothing could ever break.

Nothing.  And perhaps no one.