You sat in the wheelchair, looking around the pristine white room, the bright light overhead causing your eyes to burn. Blinking, you looked back down, focusing on the man sitting opposite you. With a warm fatherly smile, he clasped his hands in front of him, leaning his chin on it as he studied your expression.

“I’m curious as to why you are interested in donating your bone marrow to a girl you don’t even know,” he finally said after a moment of silence, his eyes still boring into yours as you looked away, feeling uncomfortable.

“Does it matter whether I know her or not? If I can help her, in any way possible, why shouldn’t I?” You retorted back as the man merely shrugged in response, taking up the envelope on his desk as he handed it to you.

Silently, you took the document out, scanning over the fine print as you looked up, staring at him, your eyes searching.

“You’re a match, a higher match than anyone we’ve tested,” he finally said as you nodded, rubbing circles into the side of your head. Was this a joke? Why didn't the world just let the two of you stay away from each other? You knew that going to the fan meeting that day was a bad idea. No matter how much you liked Baekhyun or the group, it was simply too big a risk.

“When can I donate?” You simply asked, settling for the most straightforward question in your mind.

“In two days, we’ll get you started on the procedures today and Inha should be able to receive the transplant in two days,” the doctor answered as you nodded, sliding the envelope into the case in your wheelchair as you waved your hand over the steering stick.

With a small bow, you wheeled yourself out of the room, with the nurse next to the door opening it for you with a small smile, guiding you out of the room.

“If you are fully aware of the risks involved in this procedure, please sign above this dotted line,” the nurse explained, gesturing to the document placed in front of you. With a small nod, you screened through the document, before taking up the pen and signing your name absentmindedly.

Your navy blue scribble of a signature stood out against the black font of the words on the page, the title glaringly obvious at the top in bold print.

Bone Marrow Transplant

“I have a request,” you mentioned quietly as the nurse looked to you curiously. Clutching onto your bed sheets nervously, you cleared your throat slightly, pushing the document away from you.

“I want to remain anonymous, don’t tell him where this donor came from,” you muttered softly under your breath as the nurse nodded slightly, before taking up the form from the table. With that, she started rattling off the different precautions you had to take before the actual donation, and the timeline of events.

Listening to her words absentmindedly, you let your mind wander with a small sigh. You had made your choice, but why did something so good feel so bad? There were many things you wanted to do, things you wanted to say but this huge amount of information was simply too much for you at this moment.

Your mind was simply too preoccupied with other things, other people, to think.

4 years.

Many things had happened in this 4 long years. He had gotten himself a younger sister, he had become a member of a worldwide boy group, and he had become someone you no longer recognised. But here you were, still the same simple girl that he left so many years ago. It was too late; things were now too different for you to go back to that time.

That time, when you were still young and immature, able to simply sit in the gardens and enjoy each others company, to sit there in silence with no one bothering you. The two of you were in different worlds now, he was born to be on stage, you were… simply not.

5 years ago

“Jong, look here,” you shouted excitedly, waving your hands for him to come over as the said male looked up, rolling his eyes exasperatedly when he saw what you were referring to.

“Seriously, don’t you ever get tired of that?” He complained jokingly, walking over nonetheless to take hold of what you were offering him. You had weaved a crown out of the white roses that grew in your mother’s garden. Giggling, you placed the crown gently on his head, brushing his hair back softly as you did so.

You always loved the texture of his hair, so soft and smooth. It was a brownish black, its colour naturally bleached by chlorine after the many swims you had in the pool together. The two of you were always together, ever since that accident.

“Jongin~” you