The funeral started on the first day of the new year. Daehyun was cremated, and the brother that Myungsoo loved had his remains placed in a blue urn. He didn’t have any black suits, and so Sunggyu went on his way to buy him a set.

<:>

   “Wear this,” Daehyun’s mother said, as she handed him a hemp armband.

   “I’m not even your son,” he choked out.

   “But you’re Daehyun’s older brother,” she said, with tears b from her tired and sleepless eyes. “And I’ve always considered you as my own.”

   Myungsoo looked down. “I’m sorry…if I wasn’t good enough.”

   She smiled, and placed her hands on one of his shoulders. “You’re more than who you think you are, Myungsoo. Thank you. For everything.”

   There was a long pause. Finally, he asked, “What about his father?”

   “He’s going home on the last day of the funeral.”

   “What a dedicated man,” Myungsoo muttered. He wore the armband, bowed at her, and went to the entrance of the memorial area to greet the guests.

   It was a small crowd. There was the Bae family with Sungjong, one of the pastors in Daehyun’s church and several young people who helped in serving the other visitors. Myungsoo blankly stared at his surroundings. He would look at the white envelopes, with the same Chinese characters on it. It was always the same. Even then. Like before, he wore a black suit and read the repetitive words written on those envelopes until it completely lost its meaning.

   I’m sorry for your loss.

   “Yeah, right,” he scoffed. The last guest arrived, and the moment he stepped into the room, Myungsoo walked away to clear his head. He hoped that the crisp air outside would do him some good. He hoped that it would have an anesthetic effect on his heart.

   Traces of snow were still present on the frosty roads and damp trees. He exhaled, and a thin ribbon of mist languidly emerged from his mouth, vanishing into thin air after a few moments. Shoving his hands into his slacks’ pockets, Myungsoo walked around the area, and finally settled on the lone bench under a shed located at the back of the building. It was the only dry seat available. He flinched upon feeling the coldness penetrate his pants. Before he could even stop himself, he took his phone out, and called a dead person.

   Hello, this is Mrs. Kim. I can’t answer the phone at the moment. Please leave a message after the beep.

   Beep.

   “Mom,” he choked out. “It’s me. I’ve told you about Daehyun, right? Well guess what? He’s freaking dead. Like you. Is it fun, Mom? Leaving people like me alone, is it fun? I’m sorry if I did those bad things to you. I’m sorry if I became a bad son. I’m sorry if—” he started sobbing loudly. The lump in his throat and the pain he was feeling deep inside him was too much.

   “I’m just…I thought I can finally be happy for once. I thought I can finally let you go because I’ve Daehyun with me. But what happened? Why did he die? Why did it have to be him?”

   With tears blurring his vision, he looked ahead, and whispered, “How can hell be so cold?”

   He hung up, and buried his face in his hands. He didn’t know for how long. All he wanted was for the world to stay still. But of course, it didn’t. It carried on, even without him.

   “Some bitter winter, huh?” a familiar voice asked. He wiped his tears dry with his sleeves, before looking at the person who sat beside him. It was Pastor Kang.

   Myungsoo didn’t reply.

   The pastor sighed before fishing out a hot can of coffee from his blazer’s pocket. “Your hands are red.”

   “T-Thank you,” he mumbled, before taking the item.

   “Crying is good,” Pastor Kang remarked. “It’s human nature to cry whenever we feel inexplicable pain.”

   “You think?”

   “Even Jesus wept when Lazarus died.”

   Myungsoo sneered. “Are we going to revolve around this thing again? It’s good and all, Pastor, but the thing I don’t need the most right now is religion.”

   “We’re not talking about religion, though,” he replied. “I’m talking about a man who wept because His friend died.”

   “I know. Daehyun told me that story.”

   “Ah, did he?”

   “Once. But I still remember. Because he said he liked how the sisters said, ‘Lord, the one you love is sick.’ I can’t forget it, because of the way he smiled.”

   And Myungsoo was telling the truth. Daehyun loved it so much he would recite it every now and again.

   There was one night when Daehyun was in the kitchen, drawing. Myungsoo was there with him, preparing dinner when he caught him whisper, “Lord, the one you love misses his parents.”

   Whenever Myungsoo would frown because he couldn’t get the right notes while he composed, Daehyun would wrap his arms around him, close his eyes and say, “Lord, the one you love is having a difficult time with his homework. Please give him wisdom!”

   Myungsoo was the type who would feel uncomfortable whenever he would hear someone talk about a divine being. As much as possible, he’d rather talk about something else. However, with Daehyun, it was different. Perhaps it was because he could see how the young boy stayed true to his beliefs. His faith towards the unseen was so great, Myungsoo could only be amazed.

   A few days before Daehyun died, Myungsoo remembered a conversation they had. They were about to sleep, then, when Myungsoo asked, “Why do you love God, Daehyun?”

   He didn’t mean to ask it, and he didn’t expect to receive an answer, especially to someone as young as Daehyun. Nevertheless, he was surprised as his brother replied, “Because God loved us first.”

   Silence filled the room.

   “Daehyun,” Myungsoo whispered once again. “Do you think…God loves me?”

   “Of course he does!”

   “Why? I’m a very bad person. I know I am.”

   Myungsoo had no idea why he was asking Daehyun for answers. Still, something inside him was convinced that the understanding of a child was what he needed in order for his thoughts to be put to rest.

   A pause. “Because God loves the world.”

   “The world,” the older one repeated.

   Daehyun nodded. “Not just the good people. Not just the rich ones. Not just the singers. But the world.”

   “Does that make a difference?”

   The young boy yawned, and answered, “It makes a lot of difference, hyung. Because that means God loves everyone.”

   “Even me?”

   “And me.”

   Myungsoo chuckled. “Clever boy.”

   He was dragged back to reality upon hearing the sound of the can he was holding fall on the frozen ground. He quickly picked it up, and noticed that Pastor Kang was still there, with a calm smile on his face. The way he sat down signaled that he was open for a long conversation.

   “What made you believe in God, Pastor?”

   “Ah,” he said profoundly. “I made a deal with Him when I was still seventeen years old.”

   Myungsoo cocked his head. “What kind of deal?”

   “That if He’d save me from my father’s beating I’d believe in Him.”

   “And then what happened?”

   “He did just that.”

   “Did you believe?”

   “Not at that time.”

   “Then when did you start believing?”

   There was a long pause, and Pastor Kang said, “When I finally had nothing left.”

   “Why do people have to be empty first?”

   “So that God’s love can fill them in.”

   Myungsoo bit his lower lip.

   “This question may seem weird to you, but Myungsoo, can I pray for you?”

   He stared at Pastor Kang, with tears threatening to emerge from his eyes. Pastor Kang smiled warmly at him. He patted Myungsoo’s back twice, and with his firm hands he held the student’s shoulders. The both of them closed their eyes, and the words which escaped from Pastor Kang’s mouth felt like the warm rays of the sun shining down on Myungsoo’s frozen heart. In the middle of it all Myungsoo’s mind began to travel back to the past, unraveling more of the conversations he had with Daehyun. So far, the one that struck him the most was this:

   “But if it isn’t what God wants, then I’m praying that I will obey and not whine and not be angry. But if I ever become angry, then I’m praying that I won’t be angry for long.”

<:>

   It was on the third and final day of the funeral when Myungsoo’s father showed up. Myungsoo’s blood began to boil upon seeing his face. His familial duty urged him to talk to his father, but his pride told him otherwise. In that internal battle, the latter won.

   The day went by rather quickly, and the next thing Myungsoo knew, he was already standing by the door, watching Sunggyu pack his things. Suzy and Sang Moon were sitting on the bed, staring at their older brother’s suitcase.

   “You’ll get more upset if you stare, you know,” Sunggyu remarked.

   “We can’t help it!” the two chorused.

   The older one smiled. He faced Myungsoo, and said, “From now on I’ll entrust these two to you. You have to be careful, though. They fight like piranhas.”

   “Hey!”

   A short, genuine laughter escaped from Myungsoo’s lips, and the three felt relieved. That was the first time they heard him laugh like that after his loss.

   “I think,” he began, as he raked his right hand through his dark hair. “That these two should be looking after me.”

   “It’s no problem, then,” Sang Moon said with a confident nod. “We’ll just have to look out for each other.”

   “You finally said something sensible today, Sang Moon-ah,” Suzy teased.

   The younger one made a face, and before things got worse, Sunggyu stood between them. 

"We love because He first loved us."
- 1 John 4:19