“Did you get into trouble?” Minho asked as he took a seat next to me in the gym.

I tore my eyes away from the practice game that was taking place there and looked at him. He seemed genuinely worried, with his serious expression and forehead creased. “What do you think?”

He shrugged and turned his gaze at the game. The sounds of rubber squeaking against the polished floor and ball dribbling as well as the exchanged instructions between the players and the coach and cheers from some students, mostly friends, who dropped by to watch filled the space. I waited for his answer, and for an instance I thought he wasn’t going to say anything. “He seemed angry ― your brother, I mean,” he finally spoke.

“He was,” I returned.

“Oh.” He returned his gaze at me, looking apologetic. “I’m really sor―”

“Don’t worry,” I smiled. “I didn’t get into trouble. Well, yes, Jongin was mad, and yes, I got scolded―well, not really scolded. I just received a silent treatment, but coming from him it’s worse than getting scolded at, actually. But really, he was just worried, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“Well, but still, I’m sorry.”

“Part of it was my fault too, so don’t worry,” I reassured him. Just then, I heard my coach calling out my name and telling me to do my warm up because I was going in next. I got up and walked several steps before turning to look at Minho again. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

 I bit my lower lip and fiddled with the hem of my shirt, faltering. “Um, were you and your brother close before?”

“We were.”

“Then what happened?”

He smiled but it appeared to carry a different meaning. “We grew up, I guess,” he simply replied.

-

“Why do I have to do this?”

Jongin glanced at me and smirked. “Because you’re my younger sister.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Aren’t younger sisters supposed to pampered and spoiled instead of carrying heavy stuff for their elder brothers?”

“No, where did you hear that? Younger sisters are supposed to be exploited into being their elder brothers’ slaves.” I attempted to elbow him on the arm but he managed to dodge aside, laughing. “Be glad that you’re only carrying the drinks instead of all these food,” he added, nodding at the two huge baskets in his hands.

My gaze fell to the ground and I sighed as we both carried on walking. Every once in a while, our mother would prepare something for Jongin’s whole soccer team, especially if the tournament was around the corner. Her cooking was wonderful and always welcomed and appreciated by the boys in the team who would eat it wholeheartedly.

“How come Mum never cooked anything for my basketball team, though?” I asked.

Jongin lifted his eyes and his forehead creased as he tried to come up with an answer, then looked at me with a grin on his face. “Isn’t that obvious? I’m her favourite child and she loves me more than she loves you.”

He was prepared to dodge my elbow and but instead I kicked him on the shin this time, causing him to wince in pain while I continued to walk on laughing, leaving him behind. But my steps came to a halt when something, or rather someone, caught my eyes once we reached the school field.

As if on cue, Minho turned and met my gaze. His serious face broke into a smile. I noticed then that he was talking to someone who I later recalled seeing with Riah before, but never actually learned his name. The image of him holding hands with her was flashing in my mind as I gave him a slight bow when he, too, turned to us. He smiled at the sight of Jongin and both him and Minho rushed over to help us with the stuff.

“Who was that?” I blurted out asking when the food had been distributed and everyone settled down on the grass, eating.

Minho, who had refused to take the food even though there were extras, looked up. Honestly, I had already expected his answer. A friend, or maybe, just someone I know. But his actual answer took me by surprise and even by the time he left and Jongin called out my name, I was still flabbergasted.

“The one I was talking to? My hyung.”

-

The more I thought about it, the more I could see how well the pieces fit perfectly together ― how Minho said he was never close to his brother, how he couldn’t come in between Riah’s relationship yet couldn’t really keep a distance from her. I wondered how it must have tortured him inside, knowing that you should stop yet you can’t bring yourself to it. I wondered how many nights did he stare into the darkness of the night as he lied awake in his bed, thinking and wondering about the possibilities and what ifs.

I wondered then, one day after dismissal while I was heading to the gym when I saw him looking at a distance, at the girl he likes with the boy she likes, how exactly do you walk away from something when all your heart wants to do is to stay?