The barista placed the tray on the counter and smiled at Himchan. Reluctantly, Himchan returned the smile with a faint one and carried the tray in his hands. Then he walked across the café and sat down at the table across his brother, Junhong, who had his eyes fixed on the birds that were perched on top of a tree outside the café. Without a word, Himchan laid the plate of French fries right in front of his brother, tapped the table to gain his attention and took a small sip from his Americano before he answered his vibrating phone.

It was some guy from his office. He sounded upset. Himchan knew he was going to receive bad news judging by the long sigh he heard from the other line. Himchan closed his eyes and prepared for the worst.

“Hyung, there’s k-ketchup on my fries,” Junhong scowled.

“Just eat it, Junhong,” Himchan ordered with a stern voice. Then he replied to the person on the phone. “I’m sorry. But I thought I’d sent in the reports?”

“Hyung, I c-can’t eat these,” his brother persisted.

“Then just eat the ones without the ketchup,” Himchan frowned at him and quickly apologized to the person on the phone. “Look, I’ll just send the new reports tomorrow— I promise.”

“Hyung,” Junhong tugged at his sleeve.

Himchan ignored him and continued talking through the phone.

“I can finish them by tonight, is that alright?”

“Hyung, there’s ketchup on my f-fries.”

“Please bear with me this once, huh? I can send them in tomorrow, trust me.”

“Hyung!”

“Thank you very much, I really appreciate it. I promise I won’t disappoint you,” Himchan hung up immediately and turned his attention to Junhong to yell at him. “Just eat the damn fries, Junhong! It’s not going to kill you!”

Junhong stared at him with a bewildered look, his mouth agape. The customers were eyeing both of them now. Himchan looked around him and cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Then he glared at Junhong and spoke up in a low voice.

“You better behave Junhong or I’ll never bring you to this café again.”

“But there’s-”

“Junhong.”

“I d-don’t wanna eat it.” Junhong folded his arms, his face showing how upset he was.

Himchan was more upset though.

Junhong was always picky. Everything had to be the way he wanted. If something was off, he would sulk and refuse to do anything. Even if someone tried fixing it, he would continue to brood over it—maybe because it wasn’t perfect in the first place or because he was too mad, no, Himchan could never understand his brother. It was frustrating and Himchan had trouble tolerating with him.

He’d been tolerating for a year now. Junhong’s constant whining was slowly tearing him into pieces. He doubted that he could keep up with his brother and his boring job any longer.  

It had been a year since their parents passed away and left the two of them to live together in a small apartment. A year—it was a long period for Himchan and he disliked it.

He’d been working like a madman for a year just to make sure he could buy food and pay for the rent.  

He’d been restraining himself from eating too much just to make sure there was no shortage of food supplies.

He’d been bottling up the stress from work just to make sure he wouldn’t break down.

Everything he did wasn’t for himself. It was for his brother, Junhong.

And he was getting tired of it.

“Fine, don’t eat it then,” Himchan threw his hands in the air in frustration. Then he got up and grabbed his brother by the wrist, dragging him outside the café, leaving his unfinished Americano on the table.

“Hyung, I w-want French fries,” Junhong told him as they made their way through the bustling crowd.

“I just bought it for you and you didn’t eat it,” a short sigh escaped Himchan’s lips.

“French fries,” Junhong said it again.

Himchan stopped walking and let go of his brother’s wrist. Then he turned around to face him. The younger boy looked at him with a dull expression. On the other hand, Himchan was staring at him with a mixture of irritation and sadness.

He’d loved his brother since the first day he met him. His mother had brought his brother home from the children’s institute. Himchan had no idea what the institution was for but his mother had told him that the institution was where the special kids lived.

Special kids. His mother had told him that Junhong was a special kid. Himchan didn’t understand why he was special but as he grew up with Junhong, he realized that Junhong was a bit different. Junhong was slow in learning and he kept fumbling with his words.

Junhong didn’t even go to school. His mother would bring him to a special centre where people in white coats taught him basic things like eating, reading, writing and so on. Himchan had seen them teaching his brother. It was weird. Himchan didn’t know why they would teach him simple things which every human being could do.

When Himchan entered the university, Junhong was still the same. He was still being as childish as he was, just like the first time he met him. Junhong was seven years old when he was brought to the family. Now, he was still the same seven-year-old kid although he’d reached the age of seventeen. The only difference was that he had grown bigger. He was taller and he was older.

He was just a seven-year-old kid who was trapped in a teenager’s body.

“Hyung, I’m hungry,” Junhong’s anxious voice jolted Himchan out of his thoughts.

Himchan blinked and stared at his brother for a moment before he switched his gaze towards the sea of crowds surrounding them. The city was busy—busy as always. Everyone had their own problems to deal with so they had no time to watch the two brothers standing in the middle of the street. If only they’d seen the look on the older brother’s face maybe they would be interested to know what was going on.

“Hyung,” Junhong tugged at Himchan’s sleeve.

Himchan stared at Junhong’s pale hand that was holding his sleeve and then back at the crowds.

What would happen if he left his brother here? Could his brother find his way back home? Would his brother be able to find him? Would someone decide to take him to their home? Would his brother live with another family? Would he fall down to the ground and get trampled by the pedestrians?

“Hyung, I’m cold.” Junhong tightened his grip on Himchan’s sleeve.

Himchan shook his head and led Junhong back home. He didn’t dare to think about it anymore. He didn’t want to have dark thoughts. It wasn’t a good thing to do. He’d promised his parents that he wouldn’t abandon Junhong if they were to leave the world someday. He didn’t want to break that promise, ever.

He didn’t want to be a bad person.

*

 “Hello?” Himchan answered the phone groggily.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up on the bed. When he took a glance at the clock on the wall, he scrambled to his feet and rushed out of his room. He’d overslept. It was already 10 in the morning and the person on the phone was yelling at him.

“I’m really sorry,” Himchan apologized. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes, I swear. I’ll bring the-”

The person hung up after saying two words to Himchan.

“H-hello?”

Himchan stared at the screen of his phone blankly, not quite sure what just happened. Junhong came out from his room, shuffling towards his brother who was currently standing in the middle of the living room.

“Hyung, ramyeon.” Junhong tugged at his sleeve.

“I got fired.” Himchan muttered under his breath, his hand trembling.

“Hyung.”

Himchan dropped himself on the couch and buried his face in his palms, holding back the tears and exasperation that were burning inside him. He got fired just like that. The person on the phone didn’t even listen to what he wanted to say. He had his own reason for not showing up at the office.

He’d been fixing the broken sink last night. It got clogged and murky water was coming out of it, flooding the kitchen. Junhong was being stubborn and decided to play with the dirty water instead of going to bed. Himchan had scolded the younger boy but he didn’t listen to him. It was a tiring night and Himchan could only touch the pillow at 4 in the morning.

“I wanna eat r-ramyeon,” Junhong sat down next to him.

Himchan still had his face buried in his palms. He didn’t want to look or talk to his brother. He was afraid that he would snap at him just like the other day when they went to the café.

“Hyung, I’m h-hungry. I want ramyeon.”

What should he do now? Where would he find his new job? When would he be able to pay the landlady? Would he not be able to buy food from now on?

“Ramyeon.”

Himchan was getting tired of it.

“Junhong, enough,” Himchan placed his hand on Junhong’s shoulder to stop him from repeating the same word. “I’ll cook your ramyeon for you so stay here and keep quiet, okay?”

With heavy steps, Himchan walked into the kitchen and took out a packet of ramyeon from the old cupboard. Then he switched on the stove and boiled water in a pot. He felt muzzy. He wasn’t thinking straight. The fact that he’d been fired didn’t hit him hard enough, he thought.

“Hyung, I want tomatoes,” Junhong came to his side.

Without replying, Himchan went to the fridge and opened it. Inside, there wasn’t much to see. The fridge was nearly empty. There were only three bottles of mineral water, a bottle of soju and a packet of tomatoes. Tomatoes were Junhong’s favorite food.

Himchan started slicing the tomatoes absently, his mind somewhere else. He was holding the knife in his hand tightly, his knuckles turning white. He could hear Junhong plopping himself on the couch, watching a cartoon show from the small TV. Pressing his lips together, Himchan looked down at the knife in his hand, still slicing the tomatoes.

What would happen if he stabbed someone in the chest with the knife? Would the person die instantly? Would there be a pool of blood? Would the blood splatter all around the place?

Would Junhong still nag for food if he was to be stabbed?

Would Junhong still run around the apartment childishly after losing so much blood?

Would Junhong still be a burden to Himchan if he died?

Himchan blinked and let go of the knife, dropping it to the floor—it missed his foot by an inch. Again, dark thoughts had made their way to his head. He shook his head furiously, refusing the fact that he’d been thinking of something evil.

Burden.

The word echoed in his head. Since when did he thought of Junhong as a burden? Since the death of their parents? Since the first day he met him? Or was it a recent thought?

Himchan was getting tired of it.

He would break down soon, he could feel it. Life had become a great challenge for him and it felt like he was going through an endless nightmare.  

There was no end to his miserable life.

What would happen if Junhong was out of his life? Would he be free? Would he be able to live well without him? Would he be happy?

Strings of questions ran past his mind like a train. Himchan blinked them away instantly.

He didn’t want to think about it. He’d promised to his parents that he would take care of Junhong.

He didn’t want to be a bad person.

*

 Stepping into the apartment clumsily, Himchan made his way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. He bent down to peer inside—losing his balance for a while—and grabbed the bottle of soju that was lying on the top compartment of the fridge. He sat down on the edge of the table— his left leg stepping on the chair while the other dangling over the side— and uncapped the bottle before he drank it in one gulp.

It had been a hard week for him. He’d been searching for jobs everywhere but no one was willing to employ him. Working as a bus boy or a cashier wouldn’t get him anywhere. The salary wouldn’t be enough to pay the rent on time. The landlady had threatened to kick them out if he didn’t pay her within three weeks. It was devastating. He couldn’t sleep at night. He would only sleep when he was extremely exhausted or after drinking three to five bottles of soju.

Junhong was still the same. The same seven year-old kid.

Just a burden for you to carry.

Himchan pressed his palm to his throbbing head. He’d been drinking since the day he got fired and he couldn’t remember how many bottles he’d downed so far. He tipped the mouth of the bottle to his lips but the bottle was empty. He turned it upside down, shaking it slightly to see whether liquid would pour down but nothing came out of the bottle. Scowling, he rummaged through the cupboards, searching for anything he could drink. He felt thirsty all of the sudden.

Everything was empty. The cupboards. The drawers. The fridge.

Nothing to drink. Nothing that could put his mind to ease. Nothing to take him away from this endless nightmare.

Himchan slumped into the couch, defeated. His vision spun like a whirlpool. The atmosphere was heavy and he didn’t think he could move anymore. He felt like his head would explode if he were to shake it.

“Hyung?”

Himchan shut his eyes. He could feel his brother approaching him, staring at him and listening to him. A cold hand touched the back of his hand. Himchan opened his eyes slowly and saw Junhong staring back at him with teary eyes.

Was he crying? Did something upset him? Was he going to whine again?

“Hyung, where’s m-mom and dad?”

Himchan was a taken aback by the sudden question. It was rare for Junhong to ask. He was never the one to ask questions. He always asked for food, that was it.

“I m-miss them.”

“They’re not here anymore, Junhong,” Himchan croaked, feeling a big lump in his throat.

A burden. A heavy burden for you to carry.

“W-where’s mom and dad?”

“I told you they’re not here anymore!” Himchan creased his forehead, his face flushing with anger. “You should’ve known because you-”

Himchan stopped yelling immediately. Junhong was staring at him silently, his mouth slightly open.

He was a special kid. Himchan had to remind himself about that. He was just a seven year-old kid. He was innocent. He didn’t know what he had done. If he were seventeen and weren’t mentally disabled, Himchan would’ve beaten him to pulp. He would’ve hated him to the core.

Junhong had caused their parents’ deaths. He was playing with a lighted candle that his mother had placed on the table when the electricity went off. He thought it was fascinating to watch the papers on fire so he lit them up, one by one, until he accidentally burned the curtains and set the house on fire. Their parents were upstairs, searching for torchlight and extra candles. They didn’t notice the fire. They were trapped the moment they realized that the house was burning down.

Himchan had just arrived home from work and was too shocked to see the beginning of his nightmare. He was scared and he didn’t know what to do. He’d seen Junhong in the living room, lying unconsciously on the floor after inhaling too much smoke. He’d dashed inside and brought his brother outside.

He wanted to save his mom and dad but he was too late.

The fire had the house to ashes.

The firefighters had finally arrived 20 minutes later. They’d put out the fire but it didn’t save the house or his parents. Everything was dead.

Himchan wanted to blame his brother but he couldn’t. He had loved him since the first time they met. He had loved him as they grew up together. He had always loved him.

But now, Himchan wasn’t sure whether he still loved him.

He was getting tired of everything.

“M-mom and dad,” Junhong blinked, his eyes were watery but there were no tears on his cheeks.

Maybe Himchan was just imagining it. He was drunk and tired and maybe depressed too. He was about to break down and he knew he would sooner or later.

“Do you miss them that much?” Himchan asked Junhong in a haunting whisper.

“I m-miss them,” Junhong blinked again.

“Do you want to meet them?” Himchan stared at his brother in the eyes, biting his lips so he wouldn’t cry.

“Mom and d-dad.”

Himchan wrapped his arms around Junhong and patted him on the back of his head. Junhong returned his hug with a tighter one, chuckling. Himchan was the closest person to Junhong—his brother had no friends since he didn’t attend school like any normal kid. Junhong was not the type to open up to anyone. He was only affectionate to his family. Now that their parents were dead, Himchan was the only one he had. Himchan was the only person he could count on to play with and feed him.  

Himchan pulled away slightly just so he could see his brother’s face and placed his hands on the younger boy’s shoulders, taking a brief look of his appearance. Junhong stared back, a childish smile grazing his lips. Fighting back the tears, Himchan held his fingers up to his brother’s neck. Junhong’s neck was cold. It was like touching a frozen pole.

“Close your eyes, Junhong,” Himchan told him. His brother blinked, not doing what he told him to so Himchan told him once again and this time, he obeyed. “You’ll meet them soon, I promise.”

Himchan brought his brother down and tightened his grip around his brother’s neck. He felt like throwing up but he held back. His hands started trembling—his veins visible even under the dim light. He could even feel adrenaline coursing through his body. The voices in his head started talking rapidly. Junhong’s eyes flickered open, his hands reaching for Himchan’s.

“H-hyung?”

“You’ll meet them soon, Junhong. Don’t worry.” Himchan smiled bitterly, tears damping his cheeks.

No more burden to carry.

No more whining.

No more Junhong.

Himchan was tired of everything.

“I c-can’t b-breathe. Channie hyung…”

But he didn’t want to be a bad person.

Himchan caught Junhong staring at him with those watery eyes of his and almost instantly, he let go of him and gasped. The younger boy fell back and coughed. There were red marks on his pale neck.

 Shaking his head repeatedly, Himchan got up from the couch and backed away. The dark thoughts had succeeded into invading his mind.

“Hyung,” Junhong reached out for him but Himchan took another step backwards.

He’d been thinking of killing his brother. How did he come up with such a cruel thing? His brother didn’t seem bothered at all. He was still staring at Himchan with those innocent eyes. It was as if nothing happened a minute ago.

Why did he have to be so innocent?

He was like a puppy—always finding its way back to his master, wagging its tail even though it had been hurt several times.

“Hyung, you look sad.”

Junhong couldn’t read facial expressions. He didn’t understand certain emotions. But sometimes, he could feel it. And now, he was staring at Himchan with a worried expression, a rare sight for Himchan.

He was special indeed.

Choking at his own tears, Himchan ran outside the apartment, leaving his brother alone. He kept stumbling along the street since he was a bit tipsy but he could still manage to reach the park. It was cool there but it didn’t help him to calm down immediately. He settled down under a tree and leaned his throbbing head against the trunk, weeping silently.

He needed to breathe in peace.

It was already midnight and there was no one in the park except for him.

Now what should he do? Should he search for jobs again in the morning? Should he even go home after trying to murder his own brother?

He’d thought of committing suicide but he was scared. He didn’t like hurting himself. And the thought of abandoning his brother alone in the world made his heart sink. No one would be there to take care of him if he left the world.

Himchan felt ashamed of himself. He couldn’t face the hardships of life like a true man. He was weak. He was useless. He couldn’t even deal with his mentally disabled brother.

But then, dark thoughts invaded his broken mind once again.

Life would be easy without Junhong. No more burden. No one to hold you back. No more listening to Junhong whining for food. No more starving for Junhong’s sake. No more endless nightmare.

“No more Junhong,” Himchan muttered the words like a mantra. “No more burden. No more Junhong. No more burden.”

He closed his eyes but decided against it when he saw someone lying on a bench in the cold. He squinted, trying to take a better look at the person. Without realizing it, he had approached the person and was now standing before him. He didn’t recognize who the person was but suddenly he had the urge to do something.

Something he’d been curious about.

Would I feel satisfied if I killed a stranger?

Would I be able to breathe easier if I poured out everything that’s been building up inside me to this stranger?

Would it get rid of my evil thoughts and keep me away from hurting my brother?

Himchan wanted to try.

And so he did.

It didn’t take him long. The stranger didn’t even get to fight back because he’d just woken up from his deep slumber. He was dazed and surprised so it was easy. Himchan strangled him for only 2 minutes. That was all to make the stranger stop breathing.

Somehow, Himchan felt a big chunk of lump had just been taken out from him. He felt lighter. He felt a bit better. He could now breathe easier.

But when reality finally struck him in the head, he went mad. He started crying and like a child. He was angry at himself because in the end, he was defeated by dark thoughts.

He’d finally broken down.

But it wasn’t because of Junhong. It was because he didn’t have the will to fight back— he was weak.

He continued on crying and the next thing he knew, the moon had already disappeared.

It was still dark when he opened his eyes but he was sure that it was already morning— he realized that he’d cried himself to sleep. When he turned around to leave the park, he saw the lifeless body that was lying on the bench. His heart almost stopped beating at the horrifying sight.

He’d killed someone.

What should he do now? How did he end up being a murderer? Would everything be okay after this?

He couldn’t blame alcohol. He couldn’t blame Junhong. He could only blame himself for everything.

It’s okay. Everything’s fine. You felt better and you can finally breathe easier now. There’s nothing to worry. You’re not a bad person.

“I’m not a bad person,” Himchan muttered, repeating it once in a while as he walked out of the park.

Wiping his tear streaked face with the sleeve of his brown coat; he made his way back to the apartment. The door wasn’t locked so he stumbled inside and looked for his brother. The TV was on but the lights were off. Junhong was on the couch, his long legs stretched out before him and his left hand dangling over the armrest. He was sleeping, his mouth slightly agape as he snored faintly.

He would only sleep in his bed when Himchan was home.

Smiling, Himchan walked up to Junhong and sat down beside him on the couch, resting his head on his brother’s shoulder. Junhong stirred but didn’t wake up. Closing his eyes, Himchan made himself forget everything that had happened last night.

He realized that he still loved his brother despite the constant whining and childish behavior. He knew he needed him by his side because if Junhong wasn’t there for him, he was sure that he would break down harder. He might get tired again but he could always find a stranger and pour out everything he’d bottled up—the voices in his head had told him that it was okay. 

He’d also promised to his parents that he would take care of his brother and so he kept his promise.

He didn’t leave his brother, he didn’t give up on him and he didn’t kill him.

He was not a bad person after all.

For the first time, Himchan could finally sleep in peace.

A/N: I've killed so many people in my stories OTZ 

My mind is so unhealthy T.T

In case you were wondering, Junhong suffers from autism.

Oh, if you guys are craving for more Himlo then read this- Resonance-

It was written by eatramyeon and I assure you guys that Resonance is her best work! :D

You won't regret reading it so read~