VII.

Tangerine Express

 

“It's like the people who believe they'll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn't work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean.” 
 

― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book

 


 

The night before the present day.

(March 16)

 

Most mothers know that when their child yawns, it is not an indication of the nearing horizon named bedtime, the same way a child always has space for dessert even though they insist they're too full for anything else. So Yoona knows that when Jongin yawns, he's not going to say, "Mommy, I'm sleepy," and instead will most likely say, "One more story, Mommy?" for the fourth time.

And he does. Yoona sighs. She has dealt with negotiations in the court room before, but nothing compares to haggling with a little boy over the number of stories he wants to hear before going to sleep. "Fine. One more story," Yoona relents finally, ruffling Jongin's hair affectionately. "But just one."

The almost six year old breaks into a smile that says, You're the best, Mommy, and despite everything, Yoona can't help but smile, too. There's nothing better than that special smile Jongin reserves for her, and her only. It makes everything worthwhile.

Jongin scrambles off the bed and runs over to the stack of books near the door, digging through the pile with frantic fingers, searching for a specific book. It takes him a few seconds to find it, and when he finally does, he takes it back to his mother and drops it onto her lap.

"This one," he says proudly, as if he's presenting her with his first swimming ribbon.

Yoona blinks at the book. "The Elephant Who Learnt How To Fly," she reads aloud, turning to Jongin with a frown, because the title strikes her as familiar. "I thought we read this one yesterday, baby."

Jongin nods, jutting his outer lip out as if to say, So? "But I like it," he says simply.

There will be no arguing with him, Yoona sees. Her eyes flick to the analogue clock over the door, and as she does so, her ears are more conscious of its singular ticks, each passing second writing itself into a history book that no one will ever read. 11:42. She sighs again. "Okay," Yoona says. There is still time, she tells herself, and, turning to the barely patient Jongin, begins to read, in a lilting voice: "There once was an elephant who longed to fly, but as everyone knows, elephants were not simply not made to fly..."

Seven minutes later, Jongin is tucked beneath his covers, already being pulled into the depths of the dream sea (after several reassurances that Mommy will be sleeping soon, too, baby, just close your eyes).  Yoona lets her gaze linger over him for a moment longer before she even thinks about leaving the room. Just like his father, she thinks as she walks away, the image of Jongin's sleeping position burned in her mind, reminding her of someone else. Just like Luhan.

It's dark as Yoona steps into the small kitchen, but she skips past the light switches, and heads for the fridge instead, opening it and carefully extracting a white box from the third rack. Balancing the box on one arm, Yoona fiddles through her handbag for her lighter, then sets both on the table. Only after this does she turn on the lights.

This has become a ritual for Yoona. Every year, on this night, when Jongin is asleep and blissfully oblivious, she opens the white box (a different one every year, of course), and transfers the cake inside onto a plate. This year's cake isn't iced with a personal greeting, but then again, it never is; it can't be. Yoona tries not to let this bother her, but it bothers her, anyway. It always does.

If anyone were to walk into the kitchen right now, they would think that Yoona was preparing for a birthday party. Except even if the onlooker stayed a little longer, they would never see the birthday celebrant arrive. Instead, they will see Yoona sitting alone at the table, sans party hat, staring at the digital clock on the bench,  and waiting for four digits that have been tattooed on the inside of her mind: 11:54.

Then, when the time comes, she will light one of two candles on the cake (always two, every year), her hand trembling slightly as she brings the lighter over the first candle. And if the onlooker is still present, they might wait for Yoona to light the second candle, but she won't, because now isn't the time.

Quietly, a song will dance into the air, brought to life by Yoona's voice. A song wishing a 'Happy Birthday' to someone called Taemin, who isn't there; is never there. This year, Yoona rests her chin on her folded arms, and eyes the candle like a daring child looking right into the sun, singing:

Happy birthday, Taemin;

Happy birthday, Taemin.

Happy birthday, my baby;

Happy birthday, Taemin.

She doesn't sing it like a singer delivering the softest lines of a national anthem, or like a lullaby eternally on rewind. Yoona sings it as if Taemin is her only audience, as if he's sitting opposite her, waiting to blow his candles out. This song isn't for anyone else's ears, just hers, and Taemin's; once a year, every year.

But it's harder this year, hurts more somehow. Yoona fights the lump in , squeezing her eyes shut, but she can't stop the tear that slides down her cheek. It's joined by another, and then another, until she's sobbing silently into her hands.

Stop, Yoona whispers firmly in her mind. Be strong. Don't break. Chanting this, she slowly opens her eyes again to stare at the cake. Don't break, don't break, don't break.

Somehow, she can't bring herself to blow out the candles just yet, so she sings the birthday song again; she knows she'll have to sing it tomorrow, too, over the same cake, with the name in the song being the only difference, and the other candle lit.

The clock glows: 11:58.

As Yoona sings shakily, someone on the other side of the wall turns over in his sleep. Someone named Luhan, who frowns, because he swears someone is singing 'happy birthday' to him in his dreams.

 

***

Around 5 years ago

 

There are only so many times that Yoona can tell herself that it's "all right, Luhan will come back," because no matter how deeply entrenched in denial she is, there is no way for her to explain why all his things are gone, and Taemin is gone. It doesn't explain why the note he'd left her (Please don't break) feels so much like a goodbye.

There is only so much she can take before breaking down, because it doesn't take long to realise you're not in a dream when you can't wake up; Yoona has tried everything, but there is no waking up from this. And even if she does wake up, even if there is something to wake up to, how can she know that Luhan will be there, like he used to, to soothe her fears with his voice and his warm arms?

For the first time, Yoona decides that Jongin can wait, and puts him back in his bassinet. At first, she thinks of calling Yuri, but she doesn't make it to the phone before everything, every carefully assembled piece of her heart, starts breaking.

Yoona doesn't know when she decided to cry (maybe she didn't make the choice), but soon she finds herself alone in the hall, with her knees pulled up as close to her body as they can get, as if she's trying to make herself as small as she feels. And though her face is hidden, it doesn't change the fact that tears are streaming down her face like the ink of pens made to write love letters.

She is breaking, whether Luhan wants her to or not.

 

*

 

The next day, when all the tears have dried on the outside, when reality settles back in, Yoona decides that she must be practical. The same kind of practical that got her through years of life in the orphanage, years of telling herself that it didn't matter that her dad abandoned her; she didn't need a father. But that doesn't mean that Jongin should have to go through the same thing, a quiet voice in her mind says.

Yoona thinks of Jongin, asleep in his bassinet, and swallows. No, she thinks. Don't think about that. Don't compare him to yourself.

She has decided, first and foremost, that Luhan must have Taemin with him, because the older twin's belongings are gone, too. That thought is the one of three other thoughts keeping her sane right now, with the other two being that the prospect of Luhan returning isn't impossible, and that whatever reason he had for leaving, it must have been a damn good one if he left her with their other son while she still has one year of university left.

You have to be practical, she tells herself, repeating it so many times that it starts to sound like the denial that it is and she realises that the word 'practical' is a load of bull when your situation is as messed up as hers.

It's late in the afternoon when a knock comes at the door. Yoona opens the door to find Yuri on her doorstep, with a bottle of wine and an empty notebook in hand. Those four thoughts holding Yoona's sanity together run through her mind when Yuri asks what went wrong (and Yoona has nothing else to respond with other than, "I don't know. I really don't), and those thoughts are the only things keeping her tears at bay.

"It's going to be hard." Yuri states the obvious, but Yoona doesn't mind what Yuri says as long as it doesn't agree with her own denial. "But we'll make it through; you and I."

Yoona smiles, wanting right then and there to burst into tears. But she doesn't. "Thank you, Yul," she whispers, squeezing her best friend's hand. Despite everything, Yoona feels a shot of happiness,  knowing she has at least one person in the world who will look after her. "To be honest, I don't really know what to do. All I'm telling myself is keep yourself together, Yoona, but I don't know how I'm supposed to do that."

"That's what this is for," Yuri says, holding up the wine bottle and notebook. "If I'd had more time, I would have brought vodka, but this will do. Do you have a pen?"

Yoona locates a pen and hands it to Yuri. "What are we doing?"

"Well, it's obvious that everything is a mess right now." Yuri is frank as she opens the wine bottle and pours out two glasses. "So we're going to organise your life using two things: something you're good with, and something you're bad with, respectively− alcohol and words."

Yoona snorts, mainly because she can't deny anything Yuri has just said. "And how is this supposed to organise my life?"

 "You're going to tell me everything that's on your mind, and if you have trouble expressing how you feel, you can drink until you know what to say. And through all of this, I'll listen, and write everything down; nothing else. If I want tell you that you're not thinking straight, then I'll start drinking."

"Okay." Yoona eyes the wine glass. God knows she's already identified her problems. "Let's start, then." She waits for Yuri to poise her pen above the paper, before saying the first thing that comes to mind, which happens to be, "I want to know where Luhan and Taemin are."

Yuri titles the page, To Do, then writes down, Find husband and son. The mere sight of those words has Yoona reaching for her glass; she chugs down its contents in two gulps. Yuri raises her eyebrows, but says nothing.

"You wrote it so formally," Yoona protests. She isn't even dizzy yet. "Husband and son. As if they don't have names."

"Would you like me to write their names?"

Yoona considers it for a moment. "No."

Yuri looks like she wants to say something, maybe roll her eyes, but in the end, she does neither. "Next?"

"I don't know how to... how to feel about Luhan," Yoona says, already pouring herself another drink. Her fingers tremble. "I'm wondering now if I would have told him that I loved him if I had known that he would leave." She pauses, frowning. "Do I love him?" she asks herself.

Yuri picks up her glass and takes a swig of her wine. She shakes her head, eyelids already beginning to thicken; one glass has always been enough for her. "I know I said I wouldn't interrupt, but I really don't know what to write for that, Yoong."

Yoona plays with a few sentences in her mind, wondering if there is any way to express her conflicted feelings for Luhan. Figure out how I feel about Luhan, she thinks at first, but then her mind follows it with, even though he's not here. How do you figure out how you feel about someone when they're not there? "Let's not write it down," Yoona decides finally. "I'll remember."

Yuri looks at Yoona for a long time, her eyes narrowed in uncertainty, before nodding. "If you say so... Next?"

"I still have one more year of university left, and now I have a son to look after on my own." After saying it out loud, Yoona can feel despair creeping into her bones. "I don't know how I'll manage."

The pen in Yuri's hand hesitates for a moment before gliding across the page, forming the words, Juggle university with raising a child. Look for help; I can't, and shouldn't, do this alone.

Yoona raises an eyebrow when she sees the second part. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means exactly what it says," Yuri says simply, taking another sip of her drink as punishment for speaking. "It means you don't have to be alone. Luhan might not be here, but I am. Other people will. We're here to help."

Yoona shuts her eyes tightly, wondering if she will feel less empty if she can't see anything. She sighs. "I know. It's just... I don't know how  I can ask you for help. What am I supposed to ask you to do?"

"Well, what do you need?"

"I don't know. I just know that I need help," Yoona mumbles, finally kicking down the pillars keeping her pride upright. She lets her head fall onto Yuri's shoulder and feels her wine glass being pried gently out of her hands, followed by the warmth of Yuri's arms around her.

"You know... I could take some of the load off your shoulders," Yuri offers. "If I moved in, we could split the bills, and the costs for food and transport. And I could try helping you look after Jongin." She laughs. "I might not be any good at it, but I could try."

Yoona leans back, eyes widening. "You would do that?"

"Of course," Yuri says, without a moment's hesitation. "If you'd let me. I mean, it's not like I have anything to stay at my apartment for, when my roommate never cleans or cooks or does anything useful."

Yoona has no idea what to say right now, how she's supposed to re-string the twenty-six letters of the alphabet to form a response that's better than 'thank you'. So she says nothing at all and just pulls her best friend in for a hug. And for the first time in a long time, Yoona's tears aren't born out of sadness.

 

***

 

Luhan learns that the process of moving to Japan is not an easy one, and is by no means short. As the father of a child who has yet to receive treatment for his disease, the wait for their documents to get processed feels like forever.

He also learns that waiting rooms feel like funeral homes when no matter where he is, he can't stop thinking about what Yoona is doing now, if she and Jongin are okay, if she's happy. Often he thinks about texting her, maybe to say that he's sorry, but when he thinks about it, it's a fairly ty thing to do; all he'll do is hurt her, because no matter what he says, all she'll read from the text is, I'm sorry, but I'm still not coming back.

His only hope is that she's not alone, and he reassures himself during waits at Heiwa Clinic's Korean office that there must be someone who will help Yoona; Yuri, maybe. As for himself, Luhan isn't completely alone. After a recommendation from Dr Seo, the Korean office for Heiwa Clinic takes care of practically everything. The head of the office, a Mandarin speaking doctor named Victoria (and her assistant, Jooyeon) helps him organise his certificate of eligibility, then his application for a medical stay visa.

Even though Luhan was told that Heiwa Clinic is in the process of finding him a translator to help him through conversations and daily life, the clinic still organises for him to take some preparatory Japanese classes, so he at least knows the basics of the language before setting foot in Japan. Along with visa preparations and medical forms, his schedule is absolutely packed.

To be honest, despite Victoria's infinite patience through every explanation, Luhan still doesn't quite understand how the whole process goes. All he knows is that he needs to get Taemin to the clinic as soon as possible so he knows what he can do for his son. But everything (and Luhan thinks this in Victoria's voice, because that's the only way he can remember the things she says), everything, has to be processed for him and Taemin to legally travel to and stay in Japan.

The wait is excruciating.

Three and a half months later− three long months of hotel rooms, dragging language classes, and medical and legal jargon−things finally start moving forward. It's five in the morning when Luhan boards a plane to Japan, with two carry-on bags on his back and an almost six month old Taemin strapped to his front; Luhan looks, for all the world, like a snail that sprouted legs and bloodshot eyes.

Taemin vomits on Luhan's shirt twice during the flight, but Luhan has learnt so much about patience in the last few months that he doesn't even have to swallow down any impulsive curse words when he sees and smells the splatters on his shirt. He's waited so long that it doesn't matter that he's running on two hours of sleep, or that everything he learnt in his Japanese classes is escaping his brain, or that Taemin is probably keeping everyone  on the plane awake with his splutters and coughs.

"Just wait a little longer. You'll be okay," Luhan murmurs, patting Taemin's back. It's what he's been telling himself these past few months; just wait a little longer. You'll be okay.

 

***

 

"I just thought of something," Yuri says out of the blue, pausing in the action of folding clothes into her bag, and looking up at Yoona, who is standing on the other side of the room.

For the first time in a while, Yuri and Yoona's days off university coincide with each other, so they finally have the opportunity to start packing up Yuri's belongings, ready for her to move in with Yoona. They would have finished doing so by now, had it not been for Yuri's roommate, Jessica, who has poked her head in so often that she might as well have been a permanent fixture in the room.

Luckily, Jessica isn't poking her head in at this moment (as she had before) to ask why there is a baby in the apartment, and why Yuri is packing up her stuff, even though Yuri told her last week that yes, her friend Yoona has a baby and might be over at the apartment sometimes, and that yes, she will be moving in with Yoona as soon as she has enough time to transfer her belongings.

"What is it?" Yoona asks, zipping up Yuri's make up bag after having finished gathering up all the cosmetics products in the house labelled 'Yuri' and not 'Don't touch: Property of Princess Jessica'.

"Have you asked Sehun if he knows where Luhan is?"

Yoona's eyes widen, and she gasps, shaking her head. "Oh, my God... I didn't− I never even thought about it," she breathes, looking down at her hands in shock. How could she not have thought of this? "I didn't think."

Yuri rushes over immediately, putting an arm around Yoona, who has sunk to the floor. "It's okay," she murmurs reassuringly. "As soon as we've finished packing, we can go and see him. You know his address, right?"

Yoona nods, eyes fixed on a point that only she can see. I'm messing everything up, she thinks, her mental voice almost sounding like a sob. I tried to be practical, level-headed, but I didn't even think to ask Luhan's brother if he knows about Luhan's whereabouts. "I'm pretty sure I do..." she says faintly. "Jesus. Sehun is in my classes, and I didn't even think to ask him! I mean, I saw him yesterday, and I didn't−" She breaks off, slowly losing the fight between her self-control and her tears.

"Hey, hey, shh..." Yuri holds Yoona close, rocking her back and forth. "Don't be too hard on yourself. You've handled this a lot better than most other people. I know that if it were me in your position, I would have gone insane."

Yoona doubts that that's true, but she appreciates Yuri's efforts. "I'm sorry," she sniffs. "I keep losing it, even though I tell myself not to."

"It's fine, Yoong. These things take time."

"Everything takes time," Yoona says.

"Exactly. So don't feel too bad about crying, or falling apart," Yuri says, offering a smile. "No one expects you to be strong all the time."

I do, Yoona thinks. And one day, Jongin will, too.

 

***

 

Sehun lives with Kris in an apartment near his university, and for the past week or so, he has been staring at the phone. So far, he hasn't said a word to answer Kris' demands to know what is bothering him so much, and to be honest, he doesn't even know what he's doing.

He's been thinking about Luhan, and about Yoona.

Luhan is gone, he knows, though to where and for what reason, he has no idea. All his brother had said before pushing him out of the house months ago was, "Sehun, I'm going to be leaving the country with Taemin. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but you have to trust me, okay? And before you go− there's something I need you to do for me."

Sehun had swallowed his questions, because he had known he wouldn't have gotten any answers. "What is it?"

"After I leave, Yoona might come to ask if you where I am," Luhan had told him. "But I want you to say nothing. Don't act like you know that I won't be in the country for a while. Don't tell her anything."

"I don't understand," Sehun had said, and shook his head. "Why aren't you telling her where you're going?"

Luhan had closed his eyes then, as if everything would be clearer behind his eyelids. "I just can't." And his voice had been so broken that Sehun didn't question his reasoning after that. "Just trust me, okay? I know what I'm doing."

Sehun didn't think that he'd have agreed with Luhan if he'd known what his brother intended to do, but he'd nodded, anyway. "Okay. I won't say anything."

Only after he had left Luhan's house, after he had come home and kissed Kris hello and goodnight, did he start doubting his promise. Maybe it's because Sehun has a soft spot for the people kept in the dark about the truth, or maybe it's because he has a feeling that what Luhan is doing might just screw up all the efforts that have gone into strengthening his and Yoona's shaky marital bonds.

Whatever the reason, Sehun is torn. He has Luhan and Yoona's house phone number memorised, but so far, he hasn't called. Yet. Every day brings new waves of guilt, as Sehun offers apologetic smiles to Kris instead of explanations. Smiles that say, Trust me; I know what I'm doing, even though he doesn't, and now that he thinks about it, Luhan probably didn't, either.

He's just about to pick the phone up (and would have probably put it back down straight afterwards), when a knock comes at the door. Sehun frowns. Kris is at work, but he can't be coming home so early, can he?

As he goes to answer the door, Sehun's mind abandons all thoughts about Luhan and Yoona, but when he opens the door and sees who is standing on the door step, his thoughts pick up again. Standing in front of him is Yoona, wearing the face of a teenager on a Monday, and beside her, holding Jongin, is her friend− Yura, wasn't it?

Sehun's mouth goes dry. He had known this would happen, had considered that if he didn't find her first, then Yoona would come to him. Act like you don't know, his mind screams. "Hi," he says, not at all in the confident manner he had intended to speak in. "What are you doing here?"

"Luhan is gone," Yoona says, not wasting any time.

"Gone?" Even his raised eyebrows feel like a lie. "What do you mean, gone?"

Yoona exchanges a glance with Yuri. Her eyes are wide when she turns back to Sehun. "You mean you didn't know?"

"Didn't know what?"

"All of Luhan's things are gone, and so is he. I've tried calling him, but his phone number isn't working for some reason. I don't know where he is." Yoona blinks, eyes glistening like wet mirrors. "Taemin is gone, too."

"Oh, my God," Sehun exclaims, hoping his voice doesn't sound flat. "I didn't know any of this."

"He didn't tell you anything?" Yuri bursts out in disbelief, speaking up for the first time since their arrival, because Yoona is too shocked right now to speak.

 Sehun shakes his head, even though he wants to spill his guts right now.

"Will you help us look for him, then?" Yoona asks.

"I−" He breaks off. But where would we look? And what happens if we actually find him? Sehun tries to adopt a gentle tone. "Listen, Yoona, I know my brother. If he's just disappeared, then he'll have had a good reason for doing so. Maybe we should just give him some time."

"Some time for what?" Yoona throws up her hands, completely abandoning her vow of practicality. "What does he need time for that he can't talk to me about? He took our son with him without saying a word!"

"Just trust him," Sehun begs, and he sees the light of suspicion beginning to burn in Yoona's eyes. "Trust that he's doing the right thing. Maybe he's trusting you to believe in him."

Yoona stares at him for a long moment, eyes searching his, the way an art looks at abstract paintings. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Sehun swallows, forcing himself not to look away. "No. Really; I had no idea he was gone. But he's my brother, and I'm going to trust him," he says. "Maybe you can ask his boss? Luhan can keep things from us, but not from his boss."

Yoona slaps a hand to her face. "God, I didn't think of that, either," she mutters. "What is wrong with me?"

"What?" Sehun is lost.

Yoona shakes her head dismissively. "If you find out anything, let me know," she says, already walking away. She and Yuri begin discussing something in low voices; car keys change hands.

"Wait, where are you going?" Sehun calls after them. He had hoped to spend some time with Jongin.

"Thank you, Sehun!" Yoona yells over her shoulder.

 

***

 

Narita International Airport is the second busiest airport in Japan, and with its white walls and eyeball glossy floors, it's far from a shabby sight, but none of these facts register themselves as 'important' in Luhan's brain when he arrives in Japan.

His attention is distracted and fought for by six need-to-do's: making sure Taemin is okay, not bumping into anyone, keeping an eye on his baggage, pushing the trolley in the right direction, finding the right place to put his wallet, and looking for the person who is supposed to pick them up.

Luhan doesn't even know if he's looking out for a man or a woman; all he remembers is what Victoria had told him. Her voice echoes in his head now. One of our staff members will pick you up near the Departures Terminal, since it's less crowded there. I'll make sure that he or she speaks Korean−or Chinese, if you prefer−and he or she will be holding up a sign with your name on it. Look out for it.

It's a struggle, to say the least, to navigate through the crowded airport with a rickety trolley and a baby strapped to your body, but Luhan manages to make his way to Departures. Contrary to what Victoria had said, Departures is practically just as crowded as the Arrivals Terminal, but something catches Luhan's eye immediately.

A man−red hair, sunglasses the size of Venus, bright yellow coat−stands near the 'Departures' sign, holding a card that says, in capital letters, LUHEN.

Luhan lets out a sound that is somewhere between a scoff and an exasperated sigh as he approaches the man, who grins at him. "Really?" Luhan raises his eyebrows.

The man shrugs. "Thought it might get your attention," he says, not bothering to apologise. He doesn't look like the type of man who says sorry on a regular basis, Luhan thinks, taking in the yellow coat. Offering a hand, the man says, first in Japanese, then in Korean, "I'm Jaejoong. Welcome to Japan."

 

*

 

Jaejoong is the type of driver who cares for road safety about as much as a lion cares for broccoli. Since the baby booster seat is located in the backseat of the car, Luhan insists on passing up Jaejoong's offer to let him sit shotgun, instead opting to stay beside Taemin. But that doesn't mean that Jaejoong has decided to abandon any attempts to make conversation with Luhan.

In fact, the red-haired man's eyes flick up to the rear-view mirror too often, and he asks too many personal questions for Luhan's liking. As well as breaking one of the main rules of driving (Keep your eyes on the road), Jaejoong also drives with one hand on his knee, tapping and humming the rhythm of a song Luhan is pretty sure doesn't exist.

The metal canyons of Tokyo's cityscape fly past the car's windows, an almost monochromatic line of buildings that surround the highway on both sides, like the thrones of gods. Luhan tunes Jaejoong out, pressing his face so close to the window that his nose bumps the glass. Everything looks so tall, ever reaching higher and higher towards the sun and stars; compared to Tokyo, Seoul is a green pancake of riverside roads. Here, there is no Han river, and buildings with less than three floors are all but non-existent. This is only the highway, but already it looks like they're in the heart of a city; Luhan is used to seeing this many buildings only in the lungs of a city, not in its arteries.

"...so sure I was going to win, but then I lost miserably, and on my knees, too!" Jaejoong is saying when Luhan comes back down to Earth. At Luhan's lack of reaction, Jaejoong frowns, eyeing him through the rear-view mirror. "You don't talk much, do you? You know you don't have to worry about your Japanese not being up to scratch. I may not speak Chinese, but I do speak Korean, and I was told you're fluent."

"I am," Luhan says. "I just don't feel like talking. No offense."

Jaejoong shrugs. "Maybe you don't feel like it now," he says. "But you're going to be seeing a lot of me. I'm your ticket to surviving life here."

"Only until I can speak Japanese well enough."

"Let's be realistic here, buddy," Jaejoong says. "That will−"

"I am being realistic," Luhan snaps. "I know that life here might just turn out to be hell, but I also know that it won't ever be worse than dealing with the fact that my son is sick and might just die before me− nothing is worse. Not the fact that I have no idea what I'm doing, not the fact that I don't have a job; not even the fact that I left my wife to look after our other child on her own while she's studying. I'm not sugar-coating it, buddy."

A long silence hugs the car in a crushing embrace, in which both men realise the gravity of what Luhan has just said. Luhan squeezes his eyes shut, internally berating himself for losing it so soon, and for always screwing things up with people; as he does so, Jaejoong says, ", man. I'm sorry."

"I am, too," Luhan murmurs. He looks down at his hands, puzzled when his fingers feel wet. Frowning, he glances up at the car ceiling, thinking the roof is leaking. It takes him a moment to realise that he's crying.

"It's okay," Jaejoong says, offering him a smile, though half of it is cut off by the edge of the rear-view mirror. "I won't judge your masculinity if you cry; I cry, too. Everyone does. If it helps," he adds quietly, "I left my wife, too. Except we didn't have a sick child."

Luhan is caught between asking him what happened, and eventually decides not to ask. But Jaejoong has other ideas. "She was on life support, and the doctors asked me if I wanted to pull the plug," he continues. "And I didn't want her to suffer, so I told them to let her go." Luhan looks down again, wishing he didn't have to hear this. "People say there was nothing I could have done, but I know that I let her go. I left her."

"I'm sorry," Luhan says, finally looking up at Jaejoong, who isn't crying. "You know, you said that you cry, too. I'm starting to think that's a lie."

Jaejoong smiles. "I do cry. It's just that I've had time to heal."

Luhan doesn't want to talk about healing, especially when it's something he can't see himself doing any time soon. "What do you cry about, then?" he asks instead.

"Getting kneed in the family jewels."

Luhan actually laughs.

 

***

 

Heiwa Clinic is located just outside of Tokyo, secluded from the residential areas, on a patch of land populated by a fairly long driveway, a modest car park, and two six-storey buildings. The gold letters of a large sign between the car park and the buildings say, Welcome to Heiwa Clinic, in English and Japanese; and, in smaller writing, Korean, Chinese, and Spanish.

Although, by definition, a 'clinic' is a place where patients are treated without having to be hospitalised, Heiwa Clinic is actually more like a small hospital, mainly because it specialises in treating children with cystic fibrosis, and in some cases, hospitalisation is inevitable for the patients they deal with. Luhan has seen examples of such cases in Heiwa Clinic's brochures, which had been full of pictures of kids being treated in the wards. He had wondered, and still wonders, if Taemin will end up like that.

Jaejoong steps out of the car and holds the door open for Luhan as the latter gathers Taemin in his arms, then slings Taemin's baby bag over his shoulder.

"Don't worry about your other bags," Jaejoong says, leading the way down the path. They're heading for the building on the left; above its doors, there's a sign in Japanese (that Luhan is proud to say he can actually read) that says Medical Building. Luhan notes that the other building says, Research and Support. "You'll have to wait until after your appointment to go to the apartment the clinic arranged for you."

Luhan nods, only half listening. His mind is overflowing with all the things he needs to remember, all the details Doctor Seo and Victoria had explained to him, and all his concerns.

The doors open right into a spacious reception area that, at the moment, is quite empty. A nurse with a smile that narrows her eyes into half-moons walks past, holding a clipboard; she says 'hello' in Japanese, but Luhan is too distracted to reply in time. There's a desk in the centre of the room that sweeps across almost a third of the reception area, manned by yet another sunny-smiled nurse (Luhan is beginning to think they all came from the same school, these smiley nurses). Her nametag says 'Nicole'.

"Hi there," she greets them brightly. "Do you have an appointment?"

Luhan had understood her up until the end of "Hi there". Everything else sounded like a jumble of a's and k's. Fortunately for him, Jaejoong knows exactly when he's needed, and steps forward when he sees the expression on Luhan's face.

As Jaejoong speaks to her, Luhan plays close attention, taking note of the way they speak, because his Japanese tutor had told him that he needed to work on his accent. Jaejoong speaks like a native, the words rolling from his tongue almost like second nature. Nicole has a voice that was made for laughing, and Luhan finds it pleasant to listen to. He almost gets lost in their conversation like a tennis match spectator, even though he doesn't understand most of it.

"The doctor will be here shortly," Jaejoong tells Luhan, after stepping away from the desk to let the next person in line have their turn.

"Do you know him?" Luhan asks. "Or her?"

"It's a him," Jaejoong says, "and yes, I do know him. I've translated for him before. And on top of that, Dr. Jung has been my friend since high school; he's the head doctor here. You're lucky to have him."

"Jung?" Luhan repeats. "He's Korean?"

"Yep. So you won't need me in there," Jaejoong says. "But I'll be sticking around until you're done, since I still have to drive you around and everything."

Luhan nods. "Thank you," he says sincerely. Although Jaejoong can be a pain, Luhan doesn't think he would have gotten this far without him.

"Are we going to have another moment like the one in the taxi? Because I'm afraid public displays of open emotion will force me to judge your masculinity." Jaejoong grins, then stops suddenly, spotting something over Luhan's shoulder. "Ah, he's here."

A tall man with a shock of black hair is walking towards them, hand already outstretched, as if he expects Luhan to shake his hand across the three foot wide space. When the man reaches them, he smiles, and formally offers Luhan a handshake. "Hello, Luhan. I'm Dr. Jung," he says, all in Korean. He then turns to Jaejoong. "I see you have found a new person to impose your oddity on."

"Imposing my oddity on strangers is my job, Yunho," Jaejoong says, winking.

"Yeah, yeah, and no one else can do your job as well as you do," Dr. Jung replies, rolling his eyes.  He makes a shooing motion with his hands. "Time for you to scram. As far as I know, you're not needed during this appointment."

Jaejoong feigns hurt, clutching a hand to his chest dramatically. "Oh, I see how it is."

"Good," Dr. Jung says, ruthless, though Jaejoong knows that he's only joking. The former waits until Jaejoong has left, then turns to Luhan. "I'm sorry about that. That guy just can't keep his mouth shut."

Luhan laughs. "Oh, I know."

Dr. Jung gives a sigh of exasperation in agreement, then clears his throat, assuming a face of business. He bends down a little to take a peek at Taemin, who is now awake and wheezing. "This must be Taemin," Dr. Jung says, his face twisting into a sympathetic smile. "Let's head to my office and get started. I hear you and Taemin have been waiting a while."

You have no idea, Luhan thinks.

 

***

 

Dr. Jung's office looks less like an office and more like an IKEA showroom inspired by the feathers of a tropical parrot. The floor is made from coloured and polished blue wood (Luhan didn't even know that existed), and instead of the usual desk and chairs setting, there is a purple loveseat opposite a desk topped with a slab of coloured glass. All around the room are bean bags, as well as a box of toys, which are scattered around the room. Set into the back wall is a large television.

"Please take a seat," Dr. Jung says, taking his own place behind the desk. Luhan sits, a little uncertainly, on the crack between the loveseat's upholstery. "Okay, so from the information sent to me by our clinic's Korean office, Taemin was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis at around the two-month mark after his birth?"

Luhan nods. "That's right."

Dr. Jung slips on some glasses and shuffles through his papers, squinting at the information. "It's been three months since then, so I'd imagine that you're anxious to know what needs to be done. So I'll tell you now." He sets the papers down and steeples his fingers. "I know that Taemin has already taken a sweat test and preliminary health checks, but before we can settle him into any routine treatments and programs here, we need to know how severely the disease is affecting him. With that being said, I want to run some more tests, mainly to check the state of his lungs, since you expressed the most concern for his breathing and coughing."

"Basically," Dr. Jung continues, "no matter how the tests turn out, we will still end up clearing Taemin's lungs. We'll also do a nutritional assessment specifically for Taemin, to see what he needs to be eating to gain weight. As you know, this clinic also does research on cystic fibrosis, so he may need to be confined to a room in the clinic while we treat him and record his progress, since we need to know how he fares over a period of time. I need to know that you understand and are okay with this."

"I understand, and I'm okay with it," Luhan says, nodding firmly. "I'll do whatever I have to."

"All right," Dr. Jung says. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, there are some forms I need you to fill out before we can begin. We already have records, but they're just copies from the Korean office, and they're a couple of months old, so we'll need you to fill out some new ones− the usual: personal details, preferences, legal jargon."

Luhan nods, and takes the small stack of papers that Dr. Jung hands him. Fortunately for Luhan, Dr. Jung had been considerate enough to print the forms in Korean; he starts filling them out while Dr. Jung turns on the television and busies himself with watching cartoons.

The first fields are easy, and Luhan has memorised the responses to these areas like math equations: guardian's surname, then first name, date of birth, and everything else. On the next page, there is a section that he hasn't seen before, since it concerns specific details about Taemin's stay here, which is all fine and easy enough to answer. But then Luhan sees a little box at the bottom that makes him freeze. "Excuse me, doctor?"

Dr. Jung tears his gaze away from the cartoons. "Hmm?"

Luhan frowns, as if he's not seeing straight. "It says here, Emergency Contact Details."

"Yes," Dr. Jung says slowly. "So, you're supposed to fill in the details of the person you want us to contact in the case of an emergency, should you not be present."

"I know," Luhan says. "But I was wondering..." He pauses, thinking about how he's supposed to phrase his question. "See, I don't really know anyone in the country. Would it be all right if Taemin's emergency contact wasn't in the country?"

Dr. Jung considers it for a moment. "If there's really no one else, then yes, I guess it's fine," he says. "We just need to be able to contact them immediately in the case of an emergency."

Luhan nods. "Okay, thank you," he says, chewing his lip once more as he turns back to the form. With an unsteady hand, he writes down Yoona's name and contact details, thinking, Let's hope there isn't an emergency.

He doesn't realise that he'd spoken aloud until Dr. Jung says, "Yes; let us hope."

 

***

 

After all the forms are filled out, Dr. Jung suggests that Taemin starts his first tests, and Luhan readily agrees. The first thing Dr. Jung wants to do is another sweat test, to see if Taemin's levels have risen since his first two sweat tests.

By now, Luhan is familiar with the procedure, and holds Taemin while two nurses collect his son's sweat samples. Afterwards, Dr. Jung weighs and measures Taemin, then writes the information down on a clipboard that he hands to Nicole.

"I'll have our nutritionist and junior doctors look at that," he tells Luhan, "so we can start drawing up a diet plan for Taemin."

The final test for the day is something called a flexible bronchoscopy, which Dr. Jung says is a procedure in which a tiny camera is placed down Taemin's windpipe and lung airways to see if his airways are blocked or narrowed. In Taemin's case, Dr. Jung wants to see just how clogged up Taemin's lungs are.

Dr. Jung wants Luhan on hand for the procedure, so he can see for himself what cystic fibrosis does to one's lungs. If Luhan wasn't Taemin's father, he probably would not have accepted the offer, but because he is, he swallows down his worry.

There is another set of forms he has to sign, this time giving his permission for Taemin to be sedated during the bronchoscopy. Since Taemin's weight and vital signs have already been measured, Luhan is allowed to take him straight to a holding room near the operating room.

The sun is creeping into its late afternoon position by the time Luhan and Taemin are called in. Taemin is laid on a bed, and Luhan is asked to stand back as a team of people in scrubs put a mask over Taemin's face, which puts him to sleep.

Luhan holds Taemin's limp hand even after they place an IV in his son's arm. Dr. Jung pulls out a device called a laryngeal mask (which looks more like a flexible spoon with a tube-like handle than a medical instrument), which, he explains, is to be placed down some of Taemin's throat so the bronchoscope can go down the tube.

For once, Taemin doesn't cough every few seconds. A video screen mounted on the wall shows the camera moving down Taemin's throat, and into his lung passages.

"Look here," Dr. Jung directs Luhan, pointing to an image beside the screen. "This is what a normal airway should look like." The image shows a cross section of an airway, which is coloured a healthy-looking pink, and has a thin layer of mucus. "And this is what Taemin's airways look like," he says, redirecting Luhan's attention back to the video screen. On the screen, Luhan sees the walls of Taemin's air passages, but in some places, there are spots of darker pink, almost red, and unlike the image of a healthy airway, there is mucus pressed up against the camera, narrowing the passage into a pale yellow cave.

"All this mucus is the reason why Taemin is coughing so much," Dr. Jung explains. "His lungs are irritated, and because of the disease, the mucus will continue to be produced in excess."

Luhan looks at the screen in horror; the image makes him think of a squashed maggot. "And what can we do about it?"

"We can use a variety of airway clearance techniques, which I'll explain to you later," Dr. Jung says. "Basically, they are just different methods we use to clear a patient's airways; some require special devices, and some can be performed by the parent."

Luhan nods. "This will be done...?"

Dr. Jung understands Luhan, even though the latter can't think straight enough right now to speak in full sentences. "As soon as possible," he assures Luhan. "The recovery from this operation takes up to several hours, so I recommend that Taemin sleeps in a recovery room overnight. Tomorrow, we can discuss his treatment."

After the bronchoscopy, Taemin is moved into a private recovery room. He is still asleep; an oxygen mask has been placed over his face to help him breathe. Wires connected to his body keep track of his breathing and heartbeat.

Amongst the sheets of the small bed, Taemin looks tiny and pale, like a bundle of feathers floating in oil. Luhan blinks back tears as he runs his knuckles softly down Taemin's cheek. "You'll be okay," he keeps whispering to his son. "I'm here."

Luhan settles into a chair and rubs circles on the back of Taemin's hand with his thumb. Quietly, he hums Yoona's song, the song that has become Taemin's lullaby. The past few months feel like one really long day to Luhan as he allows himself, for the first time in a long time, to simply sit and relax.

Exhaustion weighs on him like a coat of diamond feathers, and his eyes are beginning to droop when suddenly, he remembers something. Rummaging through his bag, Luhan finds the only toy of Taemin's that he'd brought from Korea− the little orange train.

Luhan realises that he'd never actually looked at the bottom of the train to see whose initials are printed on the bottom. He flips it over now, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees the letters J. I, for Jong In.

That means that back home, Taemin's train is sitting on the shelf, Luhan thinks. What are Jongin and Taemin going to think when they're old enough to know that the orange train they each have is labelled with someone else's initials?

Luhan pushes the thought away. Later, he promises himself. Later, he will have to deal with everything. Later, the ghosts of his past will catch up with him, and he'll have some explaining to do, though to whom, he does not know.

There's a low table beside Taemin's small bed. Luhan places the train on top, hoping it's still there when he returns. A piece of paper lies on the edge of the table, which Luhan picks up. It's a booklet, printed in English and decorated in Heiwa's colours of light blue and orange.

Luhan hasn't seen this booklet before− not in Korea, and definitely not here. That being said, despite his lack of proficiency in English, curiosity drives Luhan to make an attempt to decipher the text.

"'What you need to know about cystic fibrosis'," Luhan reads the title aloud, after struggling through some of the words. He flips the page. There are some terms on the next page that he can't understand the meaning of, so he skips a few paragraphs, to where there is a diagram.

The diagram is titled, Cystic Fibrosis Inheritance, and depicts two large figures at the top, each figure coloured half in white, and half in blue. A complicated network of lines connects the two figures to four smaller figures below them. The first smaller figure is white, the second and third are both half white and half blue (like the larger figures), and the last one is fully blue.

Luhan doesn't understand the diagram, so he moves onto the sentence below it. The words in it are simple enough. "For a child to be born with CF, both parents have to be carriers of the CF gene, although they do not have to have CF themselves, as shown in the diagram above."

He reads the sentence three times before he fully comprehends it, and when he finally understands what the words means, the booklet falls out of his hands. Luhan's world spins. Both parents. For a child to be born with cystic fibrosis, both parents have to be carriers of the CF gene.

All this time, he'd thought that the fact that his cousin had had cystic fibrosis was enough evidence to blame himself for passing on the genetic disease to Taemin. But no one− not Doctor Seo, or Dr. Jung, or even Victoria or Jooyeon, or any of the nurses− had told him that cystic fibrosis can only be passed onto a child if both parents were carriers of the gene.

So... it's not all my fault, Luhan thinks. His eyes, wide open, are both painfully dry and on the brink of being flooded with tears. Still...I couldn't have told Yoona that Taemin being sick is partly her fault, too. I couldn't have piled that guilt onto her.

But she would have taken responsibility for him, Luhan realises. She would have done whatever she could to help Taemin. But I guess I'll never know what would have happened. It's too late now, he knows. He can't go back, can't even talk to her, because he had abandoned her, and for that, forgiveness will be hard to earn, let alone trust.

Luhan lets himself cry. No one else is in the room to see him, and the only other noise engaging the space is the beeping of the machines hooked up to Taemin. He cries for himself, for Yoona, for Jongin and Taemin, and for all the wrong choices he's made that he can't take back.

 

*

 

At around 8 o'clock in the evening, Jaejoong pokes his head in, accompanied by a nurse who looks young enough to be his daughter. If he notices Luhan's swollen eyes, he doesn't say anything.

"We should  go now," Jaejoong says. "It's getting late, and you haven't seen your apartment yet. Yunho−I mean, Dr. Jung−says that you should probably familiarise yourself with your new home before coming back to see Taemin."

Luhan hesitates, looking back at Taemin, who had woken a few minutes ago, only to fall asleep again, a frown etched into his face.

"We'll be back tomorrow," Jaejoong adds. "Taeyeon here will look after him."

The nurse gives him a small smile and bows her head, acknowledging the mention of her name. After a few moments, Luhan nods and slowly gets to his feet. He follows Jaejoong out of the room, leaving the little orange train where it is.

 

***

 

Outside, the sky is an inky wash of starless black. Jaejoong's car is barely any lighter, a shadow amongst shadows in the car park. The two of them don't speak as they head towards it and slip inside. Luhan sits in the passenger seat this time, with no excuse to sit at the back, so he can't hide his face from Jaejoong, whose eyes, as usual, rarely stay on the road.

Only when Heiwa Clinic's winding driveway is flying under the tires does Jaejoong speak up. "You've been crying," he says. It's not a question.

Luhan doesn't say anything in response, fiddling with his seatbelt.

Jaejoong eyes him. "Don't want to talk about it?"

Luhan shakes his head.

"Well, too bad," Jaejoong says, "because we're going to talk about it. Not talking about your feelings to your only friend in the country will probably damage you. So you're going to talk, and I'm going to listen."

For a moment, Luhan considers ignoring Jaejoong. What could the other man possibly do if he decides not to talk to him? They're not really even friends. But then Luhan realises that Jaejoong is right. By bottling up his feelings, he's only going to hurt himself. He sighs. "It's about Yoona," he says quietly.

"Your wife?" Jaejoong guesses.

"Yeah," Luhan mumbles. "Well, actually, it's not completely about her. It's about me and her."

Jaejoong raises a brow. "What, relationship issues...? I thought you said you left her to fend for herself."

"I did," Luhan says, and the words feel like raw star anise on his tongue; unwelcome, bitter, and the product of a bad idea. "It's just...When Taemin got sick, the doctor who diagnosed him told me that cystic fibrosis is a genetic disease. Genetic as in−"

"As in, inherited from your parents," Jaejoong finishes. "I know."

Luhan nods. "See, that's the thing. Cystic fibrosis is inherited from your parents. Parents with an 's', as in plural." He sighs heavily. "I thought Taemin having cystic fibrosis was all my fault. I have a cousin who died from the disease, and I didn't want to face Yoona knowing that I had brought the disease to our son. I couldn't... I couldn't bear the thought of looking her in the eye and telling what I thought was true, that I made our son sick." He shuts his eyes, and lets out a breath. Slowly. Shakily. "But I just found out that it's not true. Cystic fibrosis can only be inherited if both parents carry the gene."

"So you're saying that you only just found out that you blaming yourself for Taemin's disease was completely irrational?"

"I guess you could say that..."

"Luhan, in the case of a freaking genetic disease, neither of the parents should blame themselves for supposedly being the reason their child is sick. That's how life works. happens, but you get up, and you deal with it," Jaejoong says this calmly, without any malice. "You have enough on your plate without the guilt of whatever it is you think you have done. I mean, do you want to blame your wife, too, for supposedly contributing to the disease? Is that going to make you feel any better?"

"It makes me feel worse," Luhan says, "especially when I think, If I had known that it wasn't all my fault, would I have acted so impulsively?"

"So don't think about it," Jaejoong half-exclaims. "If you came here for Taemin, to help him live a better life, then whatever happened in the past is done. You can't go back and redo anything. If it helps, focus on Taemin and nothing else. Time will heal you."

"And if it doesn't?"

"It will," Jaejoong says confidently. "And if it doesn't heal you, it will find you a new source of happiness. Just do what you came to do."

"All I know is that I came here for Taemin," Luhan whispers, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "I don't know what I'm doing for myself here."

"Then try your damned hardest to find out," Jaejoong says. "If need be, I'll help you find something to do with your life. Just don't let guilt tear you up; it'll ruin you."

 

***

 

Luhan's apartment is located in a relatively low-rise block on the outskirts of Tokyo, only a few miles away from Heiwa Clinic. It also happens to be only one floor above Jaejoong's own apartment, a fact which Jaejoong insists is 'fortunate' for Luhan, though the latter doesn't know if he agrees.

The apartment block has seven floors in total, which Luhan finds out when he steps inside the elevator and sees the nine buttons (one for the ground floor, and one for the underground parking lot) beside the elevator doors. He is alone in the elevator for a few moments, because Jaejoong is striking up a conversation with the old man who is walking his dog up and down the stairs, and isn't aware that Luhan is already in the elevator.

"Jaejoong, hurry up!"

"Oh!" Jaejoong exclaims, bidding the old man goodbye, and rushing towards the elevator. He barely makes it. "Sorry about that," he mutters, pressing the button for the fifth floor. "I swear, one of these days, Mr. Yoochun is going to crack his back on the way down the stairs, and fall to his death. He never listens to me."

Luhan doesn't know what to say to that, and lets the elevator music fill the silence.

As they travel upwards, Jaejoong fishes the apartment key from his back pocket and hands them to Luhan. "There are copies of this key around your apartment. Be smart and don't tell anyone where they are when you find them, yeah?"

The elevator doors slide open with a ding at the fifth floor, and the two of them make their way down the hall to room 28, which is the second to the last door on this side of the hall. Luhan turns the key in the lock and pushes the door open.

Inside, the space is small, but the way the furniture has been arranged makes the apartment look bigger than it actually is. Jaejoong follows him inside, dumping his bags in the hall.

"The general layout of your apartment should be similar, if not identical, to mine, so I'll give you a quick tour," Jaejoong says. "To our right is your little kitchen, and across the bench is your dining area."

Jaejoong continues pointing out the obvious, so Luhan chooses to tune out and inspect the house for himself. The rest of the room they're standing in is a living room. Lining the back wall is a large fireplace, flanked on either side by a tall window. The couches have been pushed up right against the walls to leave a square patch of floor in front of the television, which stands on the east wall.

Between the living room and the dining area, there is a hall. Jaejoong sees Luhan looking in its direction, so he leads Luhan into the hall, and points at the doors. "The two doors on the left are bedrooms; the one on the right should be your bathroom."

Luhan takes a quick look at the rooms. One is bigger than the other, and both are furnished with a simple bed, nightstand, and drawers; the bigger room has a double bed. Like the rest of the apartment, the walls are a bare white, void of any paintings or marks of any sort. It's nothing special, but it's better than what Luhan has expected.

Satisfied, Luhan goes back to the entryway of the apartment and fetches his bags, proceeding to drop them onto the double bed. There will be time later to inspect the house in more detail, but for now, sleep is calling him.

As Luhan takes out his toothbrush, toothpaste, and gargling cup, he wonders why it is suddenly so quiet, and realises that Jaejoong has stopped talking. Frowning, he pads out of the room, and finds Jaejoong lying on his stomach on one of the couches, watching TV.

Luhan blinks. "What are you doing?"

"I'm exploring the wonders of this little box," Jaejoong replies, not looking away from the TV. "Would you like to join me while I watch what happens to Son Goku?"

"Are you going to be there all night?" Luhan asks.

Jaejoong stretches luxuriously, as if invisible hands are pulling him in all directions. "Yes, I think I will," he tells Luhan finally. "I have to drive you to Heiwa tomorrow."

"But isn't your apartment like, one floor below mine? Does it really take that much effort to get into the elevator and go to your own place?"

"Yes," Jaejoong answers without hesitation. "That, and the fact that your couch is really comfortable. Plus, the cleaning lady only comes when I'm not in my apartment, and right now, my place is a mess and I have better things to do than clean it."

"And by better things, you mean watching Dragon Ball Z?"

"Yep."

Luhan stares at Jaejoong for a long moment before shaking his head. "All right, then. Well, I'm going to sleep," he says, heading to the bathroom. "Night."

And so ends Luhan's first day in a new country, a new life.

 

***

Around 3 months ago

 

"Hello, this is Hyoyeon at EXO-K Engineering and Communications; how can I help you?"

"Hi," comes the brisk reply. "I was wondering if I could speak to Kim Junmyeon?"

"Name?" Hyoyeon asks.

"Im Yoona."

"Hold on a moment, please."

Junmyeon sits at his desk, carefully manoeuvring the lid off a too-full cup of coffee, when the phone rings. He stops mid-sip and puts his coffee down. "Hello?"

"Sir, there's a call coming in, from a woman named Im Yoona," his receptionist, Hyoyeon, says. "Would you like to accept it?"

It takes Junmyeon a moment to place the name; when he does, his eyes widen. "Yes, yes. Connect me, please."

There's a click, and a few seconds later, a new voice sounds down the line. "Hello," Yoona says immediately, running before her mind, because right now, she doesn't want to waste any time. "It's Yoona; Luhan's wife."

"I remember," Junmyeon says. "What can I do for you?"

"My husband has gone missing," she says. "I was wondering if you know where he is?"

"Missing?" In his shock, Junmyeon knocks over his coffee, which explodes in a puddle on the floor. Ah, , he thinks, and with an effort, turns away from it. There is a more pressing issue at hand, it seems. "What do you mean, missing?"

"I mean that he's gone," Yoona says. "All his belongings are gone, and his own brother doesn't even know where he is."

"What makes you think I'd know where he is?"

"Because you're his boss," Yoona answers.

Junmyeon bites his lip. He doesn't know what's going on, but it's obvious that whatever Luhan has done, it's not what Junmyeon had expected. It sounds complicated, and Junmyeon doesn't want to entangle himself in anyone else's personal matters when he's only a bystander. "Not anymore," he tells her. "Luhan resigned not long ago. He didn't tell me anything else, and since I am not his boss anymore, it is not my job to know his whereabouts."

"You mean..."

"I mean what I just said, Yoona," Junmyeon says, not unkindly. "I know just about as much as you know about his whereabouts and what he's doing. I'm sorry."

Junmyeon isn't exactly lying because yes, he is truly sorry that for privacy reasons, he can't tell Yoona that in his resignation email, Luhan had cited his reason for resigning as, Moving country. And he is sorry because he had thought that Luhan would be taking Yoona with him. 

 

***

 

A/N: Oh my g o s h. This is a monster of a chapter >.<

Now all SNSD members have appeared in the story. Did you spot all of them?

Anyway, there are so many details in this, which is why it's so long. I know I didn't really detail how he came to Japan, but I figured that how Luhan gets to Japan (as in, visas etc) isn't really central to the story, so I left a lot  of the nitty gritty details out, because immigration to Japan turned out to be a lot more complicated than I thought >.<

Here is the chart that shows how cystic fibrosis is inherited (the one in the booklet).

Lots of new things in this chapter, too, hahaha xD I managed to squeeze in three TVXQ members. I know it would have made more sense to have a Japanese idol as a doctor at Heiwa, but since TVXQ are so popular in Japan, I thought it wouldn't be too weird to include them. They usually make cameos in my fics, anyway, hahaha

Oh, and by the way, if you're getting confused about the times/years that everything happened... The first section where Yoona sings happy birthday is the night before the present day, and everything else happened years before.

Thanks for reading! ^^

Like this story? Give it an Upvote!
Thank you!
oneoftheboys
Up-up-update coming up!

Comments

You must be logged in to comment
Fire_trek 274 streak #1
Chapter 16: Brilliant bravo, author nim, bravo 🎉 thank you for this story and all the emotional twists and turns that you put us through as an audience. I’d like to think they had a happily ever after, it brings me a peace of mind and heals my heart. Thank you again
Fire_trek 274 streak #2
Chapter 15: More tears 😭 and sadness, Yoona’s speech at the funeral was heartbreaking. But Luhan’s story to Jongin was beautiful and inspiring and real. Maybe not a happily ever after but a very special moment for him. I’m glad he knows his son and got his memories back. Can we please have a happy ending? Pls!
Fire_trek 274 streak #3
Chapter 14: I’m crying actual literal tears right now. How dare you write something so thought provoking and emotionally damaging for all of us to read? Poor little baby TAEMIN and poor little Jongin. Luhan has a son he doesn’t even know existed, dying and Yoona is nowhere to be found. Le sigh 😔
Fire_trek 274 streak #4
Chapter 13: Is he going to remember? That’s all I want to know and apparently my petition to let Yoona see TAEMIN worked! It’s sad how people talk when they think no one is listening… I hope my heart is not breaking by the end of this (even if I feel like it will)
Fire_trek 274 streak #5
Chapter 12: Luhan pls remember! Yoona just poured he heart out to you and you don’t even know. He can’t even remember poor lil baby TAEMIN! This is really breaking me up and we only have like 3/4 chapters left.
Fire_trek 274 streak #6
Chapter 11: I’m signing the “let Yoona see TAEMIN” petition right now. I know everything is messed up rn with Luhan’s amnesia but at least let her see her kid. I wish Luhan remembered them hopefully he remembers TAEMIN at least. This was such an emotional chapter, but such a good one
Fire_trek 274 streak #7
Chapter 10: Yes! Yes! And yes! Finally Yoona gets that emergency call. (Sad it had to happen but I’m glad it did) oh, Luhan I hope you can at least walk for TAEMIN’s sake. I can’t wait until the next chapter because I know that Yoona and Luhan will be reunited… please?
Fire_trek 274 streak #8
Chapter 9: Little TAEMIN being sick is not good for my little heart. I’m glad that Luhan is an attentive parent and is always on top of everything. I feel bad for him when he called Yoona and received a different message if only he would have called earlier. Also uncle Sehun! I wish he’d tell Yoona about their whereabouts.
Fire_trek 274 streak #9
Chapter 8: Omg Yoona confessed her love for Luhan and Jongin had his first steps and said his first word! So exciting! Now onto the sadness :( TAEMIN will only live to thirty? That’s heartbreaking and Luhan can’t let him leave the hospital for 7 months, that’s ridiculous. Also I’m not ready for chapter 9
Fire_trek 274 streak #10
Chapter 7: Yes, I saw all the SNSD members and some TVXQ members as well, I love little cameos like that. And wow, Luhan, way to leave the country without letting Yoona know only to find out that CF is inherited from both parents smh I hope he contacts her or something. And here I thought at the beginning of the story that Yoona was a bad parent and up and left him. I was totally wrong. I feel bad for both of them