“Would you like anything to eat?”

The voice sounded distant in his ears, like it was muffled, and faded. He kept his eyes on the window, watching the tiny little raindrops dripping down the glass. Where was he again? This wasn’t his room. Was it a hospital? Crap, he didn’t like this place. There was this strange smell that kept poking his nose, and the white light was too bright it was starting to give him a headache. He hated it. He wanted to leave. How the hell did he end up here again?

“Hyukjae.”

Jongwoon was standing at the edge of the bed, looking concerned, but still made sure not to get too close. Last time he did, he got a fist in the face, but that didn’t stop him from trying. But right now, Hyukjae didn’t even have any strength left to lift his arms.

“Your father and Jungsu will most likely arrive tomorrow morning. They’re on their way back from Milan.”

Was that even necessary? He could handle this alone. He’d been doing just fine without anyone, so was there really a need for them to be rushing back because of this? He didn’t want to see them. Both his father and Jungsu were liars. He didn’t need them here with him, if they were just going to leave again soon. It’d always been like that. People come and go, and never come back, leaving only empty spaces behind.

“Donghae,” he murmured.

“Did you say something?” Jongwoon stepped closer, bending down towards him.

“Where’s Donghae?”

“He’s outside. Would you like him to come in?”

Hyukjae shook his head. He hugged his knees close to his chest and leaned back against the headboard, his eyes never left the view outside even as Jongwoon left the room. It felt colder than before, but whether it was because of the rain or because he was seriously sick, he really had no idea. He couldn’t even tell what time it was now, or what was happening. It was like his senses had gone numb.

He remembered that voice though. That calm, but cold voice talking to him through the phone, using Yunho’s number. Who was that? A ghost? Or was it his imagination after all? He slowly scooted to the edge of the bed and climbed down, staggering to the window. He took a look outside, squinting at the tiny raindrops falling onto the glass. It was raining out there.

Just like how it was on that long, gloomy day, when it never stopped pouring, and he was left alone, shivering in cold. And there was this unbearable stench of blood, that never seemed to disappear. And then, his mother’s body was there too, sprawled on the floor, unmoving.

Hyukjae gasped, his eyes widened as he clamped his hand over his mouth. Don’t remember, he told himself. Don’t remember. Forget everything. Just forget.

“Easy now, Hyukjae. It’s just me.”

He clenched his eyes shut, trying to push that haunting, yet mysteriously familiar voice away.

“If you tell anyone about me, I’ll hunt you down. So let’s keep this a secret between us, okay?”

“Hyukjae.”

Hyukjae flinched, surprised by the voice coming from behind him, but was instantly relieved when he saw Donghae’s reflection on the window. He was close, way closer than he’d ever been before. But strangely enough, he didn’t dislike it. It was comforting. To have him standing there right behind him, to realize that someone would be there if he looked back, it relieved him, so much that it surprised him.

It was funny though, that the one who was there everytime he was at his worst was Donghae, and not his own father. He was always there.

“Donghae,” Hyukjae whispered. “I don’t want to stay here.”

Someone was coming to pick him up. Someone he knew was b with danger. He remembered every single word he heard, and it kept ringing in his head. It brought back some of the forgotten pieces of memories from the past, and it terrified him. He could remember bits and pieces of what happened that day, but everything else was foggy.

He kept telling himself to forget, and he really did. At least most of it. He was too afraid he’d open an old scar. He was afraid of that door that he’d kept closed all this time. He didn’t want to look inside. Whatever it was in there, it must’ve been painful.

“Hyukjae,” Donghae held his arm, turning him around to face him. “It’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” Hyukjae’s voice trembled. “You don’t know-“

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” Donghae pulled the younger’s body into his arms, letting his head fall onto his chest. He could feel Hyukjae’s cold hand grabbing his shirt, as if trying to hold onto him, so that he wouldn’t fall. “Trust me, Hyukjae. As long as I’m alive, I won’t let you get hurt.”

* * * * *

Hyukjae glanced to the door when his father stepped into the ward, along with Jungsu, the doctor in charge of him, and one of the nurses on duty. Donghae backed away a little from the bed and gave a slight bow to Donghoon, his father, who nodded at him in return.

Scowling, he turned his head back to the window, gazing blankly at the grey clouds outside, and the droplets of rain falling. It had been raining since last night, as if the earth was in sorrow too. He could feel their eyes on them, but he didn’t bother to turn their way. He was exhausted, and the only thing he wanted was to be left alone.

“Hello, Hyukjae,” the doctor moved to his right side, blocking his view from the window.

The rest of them stood on the left, all were watching him closely. God, he hated that. He would’ve lashed out at them usually, but he no longer had any strength left in him. His father was close to his side, closer than any of them, while Jungsu stood at the edge. He kept his eyes elsewhere, refusing to meet their stares.

“I would really suggest to let him stay for at least another two days,” the doctor started. “He’s really weak right now, so I’ve been giving him the IV drip and some medicines. He refused to eat and drink, and he’s badly dehydrated.”

“Why haven’t you been eating?” his father asked in a soft voice, but he remained quiet.

It had been such a long time since he