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007. “Innocent”

 

           I was walking home from the café I worked in, it was winter, and I knew back then what to expect. It was the sixth year since the descent of Winter. I clutched my heavy things, held on to the strap of my sling bag and hugged the clear file into my chest. I was exhausted, and I wasn’t feeling good. The week’s sleepless nights and cold-filled days took its toll on me, and I was desperately yanking my foot out of the deep snow just to get to my apartment.

           Five minutes, I thought to myself, mentally counting the remaining time before I reached my home. I was freezing cold, and my beat-up coat was taking the cold in instead of keeping it out.

           The road was slippery, dirty white snow covered the entire village and my thin frame. One minute I was upright, then the next I was sprawled on the ground, panting hard to catch my breath. I was about to lose conscious when I heard a distinct and worried, “Hyung!” call out somewhere. I wasn’t sure if it was directed to me, but the concern in the voice is there, and it made me want to think that indeed, help was coming.

          “Hyung! Hyung!” I forced my eyes open, and the frantic eyes of a boy no more than 8 years old assaulted mine.

          “Don’t worry I’ll help you. Can you talk hyung? I need directions to your house.” His small hands slowly lifted me up, helping me stand. I forced my body to be as light as possible, after all he was only a child, and he can’t possibly usher a 23 year-old all by himself.

          “Point your finger, I’ll bring you home…”

           The path to my home is deserted, since no one in their right minds would possibly stay outdoors in this blizzard. But I still wished for other help, not because I was complaining for the little angel who rescued me but because I was suddenly filled with worry for him. I can distinctly hear him heave deeply as we neared our destination, as if on the verge of collapsing himself.

           “We are almost there…” I put my remaining pressure on my feet, thinking to myself how this event greatly resembled what happened 6 years ago.

            I was alone then, but was later on rescued.

            Not by an angel though.

           “Hold on hyung. I got you.” I smiled despite the throbbing pain in my head, thanking every saint I know for the help and the angel who rescued me.

 

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            I woke up an hour later, a white cloth folded in my forehead, my thick blanket wrapped around me.

           “Hyung!” It was the boy, I was sure glad he was still there.

           “I’m sorry if I meddled with your stuff, I needed to keep you warm…” His eyes are casted on the ground, both arms resting in his back. He was waiting for me to say something, and with his stance, I guess he was waiting for me to shout at him for meddling with my things. I slowly erected myself in the couch, reaching out one hand to tousle his hair.

            He grimaced and covered his face, eyes rabid, as if waiting for a slap. “Thank you for helping me. What’s your name?”

            He sighed comfortably, smiling and shaking his head. “Taemin, Lee Taemin at your service hyung!” he saluted me to emphasize his point and I chuckled at his cheerfulness and determination.

           “I’m Kibum. You can call me Key hyung.” I extended my hand to shake his, but to my astonishment, he proceeded to hug me.

           “I have a hyung! That’s so cool! You know Key hyung, I don’t have a brother, and my older friends would always pick on me, I don’t want to call them hyung. They don’t act how older brothers should act.” He pouted and continued to drone on, as if I was an old friend of his. I smiled while listening attentively to his words, drowning myself with his exuberance.

           “How do you know I would act as one?” I queered, my arms crossed in front of me, testing the little guy.

             He stopped talking for a bit and directly looked at my eyes, as if scanning my features for any signs of irritation. He didn’t find any, because I was anything but irritated with him.

            “I know you’d be a great brother,” He smiled again, the same one that he wore when I thank and asked him to address me as hyung.

 

             “I just know.”

             And for the first time that winter, I was warm again even if my first savior wasn’t there yet.

 

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             A few days passed since the day I met Taemin, but the little kid would always drop by my house, checking to see if I was doing okay. I’d serve him with a cup of warm chocolate every time and we would sit comfortably in my couch, with him talking comfortably and me listening, as if we were real brothers.

            Real brothers, the thought warmed me up, sending my insides in bliss. I said then that if it was how it felt to live for something, then I guess I could give living—not merely existing—a chance.

            I sent him off earlier one day, suddenly sensing Winter’s arrival. “You would visit me when you’re feeling okay, huh?” He said, lingering in my door.

            “Are you getting tired of coming here Taemin?” I asked, suddenly afraid that he might answer me with a dreadful yes.

            “Don’t be silly hyung! I just want to show my mom that you are real; she didn’t believe me when I said I rescued you.”

            “Oh, so you want to show off?” I raised a brow, testing him again.

             I never expected what he said after, or even the unfeigned reality of it.

            “No hyung, I want you to have a family. With me and my mom.”

             They said kids don’t lie, and I badly wished that it was true. “I’ll go now hyung! I’ll see you around!” He skittered down my path and onto somewhere I don’t know, his words still clear in my head.

             I want you to have a family.

             “Thank you Taemin, thank you very much.” I said to no one, but I do hope I can be a good brother to the innocent soul who helped me in more ways than his pure mind can imagine.

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            “Why winter?” I queered that night as I stood next to Winter, his finger drawn to my window, tracing the mists.

            “I want to limit my being a monster to only one season each year. By the start of winter, I am almost dying, but controlling the hunger made me feel less…like I am.”

            Less like a monster.

            More like a dainty human he must have been once before he turned into something else.

            I didn’t push the topic further; he’d already inflicted himself with self-induced pain, I don’t want to rub it in. Truth be told, I sometimes feel I intrude with his thoughts; it wasn’t mine in the first place, but they connect with my own, I cannot control it. He can, however, but he chose for things to stay as they are.

            “Winter must be colder to you, then.” I said before it even registered in my mind, and I strained my ears to get a gist of his response.

            Winter is cold to someone with no warm memories.

            I can almost hear the agony in his voice, and the unmasked sorrow was very evident in his eyes. Then and there I realized how cold he must be, winter or not. The season’s transition brought normal people with a subtle promise of salvation, but it marks the death of his already withered soul.

            A question always makes itself known whenever I look deep into Winter’s eyes—whenever the same feeling of being at home transcends within.

            Was everything worth it? Losing my being a human by helping a monster. Feeling warm and twistedly secure for days and so, knowing that the cold and seclusion is out there waiting?

            I never entertained the question, because as selfish as it seemed, I yearned for something like this. Now that it’s here, I am willing to pay the price.

            Yes, even knowing that the real cold and seclusion is out there.

            …waiting.