Their progress to the hill was slow. And even slower was the ascent, given Madeline’s legs. And at one moment, she seemed to slip. To trip and lose her balance. Jaejoong, seeing her stumble, laughed. Not understanding. She fell down and for a moment, he waited, apparently thinking she would just get back up. But when she didn’t, Jaejoong dropped down too.

Changmin started to take a step. But Yunho’s hand stopped him.

“Wait,” he said, watching closely.

“Wait? Yunho, she fell.”

“Just wait.”

Turning to look back, Changmin gasped. Jaejoong had picked Madeline up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way up the hill.

Yunho, a tremble in his voice, a thick waver, said, “It happened a few weeks ago. She tripped. He laughed at her for a second. And then-he picked her up. Just like that.”

Changmin, a throb in his own chest, replied, “Is that why she calls him Hero?”

* * *
Is that why she called him Hero?

Yunho turned away from Changmin; turned away so his friend would not see the bitter smile that crossed his lips now. How odd it was, that of all the memories Jaejoong did retain after the accident, that his nickname was Hero should be one of them.

In those brief days before Jaejoong’s world came to a sudden halt, in those days Yunho never imagined would be cut off so suddenly, never thought once that the brother he knew then would cease to be, he was Hero to everyone.

Father called him Hero. The family, even neighbors. It seemed as if anyone who came near Jaejoong, anyone who stepped inside that strange light that clung to him even then, they knew he was a hero.

A hero for what? Yunho had wondered so many times. And yet, it was undeniable. Jaejoong could walk into a room, a room filled with nothing, a place in which the air was still, motionless-he could walk in and-and what? What happened? A thousand flowers exhaled. A small crisp breeze danced through. The sun turned around to look at where Jaejoong stood. He did nothing and everything changed, in one brief sudden instant. It had left Yunho breathless countless times.

And to those others who experienced it, Father, the family-Yunho used to sit and watch their faces change. He would stare at them, usually sitting out of sight, and watch a face, dull from the day, pale from the anxieties and stress the day had left them, catch the scent of those flowers as they bloomed by the dozens in Jaejoong’s presence, turn to feel the delicious cool wind caressing their face, stirred as it was by Jaejoong’s step, raise and look up to feel the warmth of the sun as it moved to light this child’s way. Yunho, out of sight, would watch the grown-ups stare at his brother, stare in disbelief, not comprehending this child who brought with him spring every time he entered a room-this child in whose wake the seasons played.

Reasonable minds fought vainly to comprehend. This could not be true. Surely not. These happenings were straight out of a fairy tale. No creature made of the dust of the earth could do this. This was not of flesh and blood.

Perhaps then Jaejoong was not made entirely of flesh and blood. Perhaps in him one more gift had been given. One more sweet kiss, one last gentle touch-these had been his before he came into this world, the child Heaven smiled upon, the child the stars longed to see again, the new life angels had borne upon their wings.

Jaejoong had not been born. He had blossomed, like a note of music.

He was indeed a hero.

How strange though it was to Yunho to think, that out of everything, Jaejoong should remember this. A nickname.

Jaejoong did not remember his father, never knew his mother, and had to be told who his family members were. He even had to be told Yunho was his brother. But this one thing he retained and proclaimed it proudly now. How often Yunho wondered if it was some kind of bitter irony, some slap fate chose to prick him with. A blow to his pride. A name, but not his brother. A word, but not all the ones who loved him.

A hero, ill-begotten of a time and life he had ceased to remember.

Changmin did not notice Yunho’s movement. His eyes were only for Maddy and Jaejoong as they made their way up the hill. He watched, breathless, as this young man, this one who had been a child only a moment ago, turn and stand up a man. Beautiful and beyond human touch, he carried now Changmin’s treasure in his arms. He carried her gently, carefully and with a certain strength Changmin would not have given him credit for only a moment ago. And she, like a withered flower, bent her head upon his shoulder, rested and content.

Yes, he was a hero. He carried now his princess, lifting her out of the dust into which she had fallen, up and away into their garden, far from everything surrounding them. Sometimes it seemed that Jaejoong’s head turned to Maddy; maybe he spoke to her, maybe he looked to see if she was alright. Changmin did not know. But to his little girl, Changmin watched this boy-man lavish such attention.

When both these ones reached the top, Jaejoong, with exquisite care, set Madeline back down upon her feet. She then, took his hand in hers, obviously very excited, and pointed to some spot unforeseen which she wanted Jaejoong to see. He nodded at her words and together they set off, Jaejoong letting Madeline lead the way, letting the lovely bird, whose wings were bent beyond repair, take her tilted awkward flight while he slowly followed.

After a few steps, still in plain view, Madeline stopped and sunk down to the ground, tugging excitedly at Jaejoong’s hand. He sat alongside her while Madeline showed to him the flower she had planted all by herself a few weeks ago.

At this point, both Yunho and Changmin moved closer to the hill, almost instinctively. It was not a wish to intrude upon these two, nor a curiosity to be a part of their moments together. It was a movement made by hearts wary of their tender chords, fibers woven so tightly into the very make-up of their own hearts they could not do very long to let these precious lines wander far. There could be no risk of any harm befalling these most cherished chords, for fear of a rupture so dire it would mean life as they knew it.

Changmin’s question had long gone unanswered at this point, but it did not seem to matter. In all honesty, it had not been a question to be answered; it was a spoken thought. A comment he made almost without thinking, expecting no answer from Yunho.

In turn, Yunho did not hear Changmin’s question as one directed to him. The young man heard it as a statement, almost an explanation. And one that brought with it countless memories, all of them faded and wonderful and full of pain. Days now only to be lived in dreams, moments that would never again see daylight, and fantastic times that would only have life again when this world was gone.

Why did she call him Hero? Because he is one and had always been.

Close enough now to hear them, near enough to catch their laughter, Yunho and Changmin stopped, not wanting to intrude upon Jaejoong and Maddy. And like the two children, the two young men sat down upon the grass. Yunho leaned back, one arm supporting his head, so he could keep his eyes upon Jaejoong while Changmin, sunk down cross-legged.

The grass, warm from the sun, bent under their weight, sent up its fresh verdant scent, smelling of a new summer’s rain and all the life it brings. An aroma at once heady and sweet that reaches far back into the mind and makes one want to run, to topple about only to fall down again, cushioned by the soft grass and take a long undisturbed nap.

Some time went by, the sound of Jaejoong’s and Madeline’s laughter ebbing in and out, louder and softer. A song one caught in brief stanzas, interrupted often, a melody un-whole; yet in it’s strange verse, lovely. Somewhere in the midst, Changmin spoke sounding as if he began in a conversation he was already having with himself.

“I wouldn’t want to,” he said quietly.

Turning, Yunho looked at him. Changmin eyes were very much upon Jaejoong and his daughter, a dewy light clinging there.

“Wouldn’t want to-what? Min,” Yunho asked.

“Interrupt them,” he replied. “I couldn’t. Look at them Yunho. They look like-”

“Yea,” Yunho responded, quickly.

He had no need to hear the rest of what Changmin said. This was a conversation both had had before. But not with one another. This was a conversation each had spoke to himself in quiet nights, on long drives, when their thoughts were their own. A conversation that spoke of the gem that each had in his possession. Unpolished, dim to the rest of the world-this jewel sparkled and glistened in patterns few saw, that few were capable of seeing.

Yet, in Changmin’s unfinished sentence there was more. More that Yunho could not bear to hear spoken. That ever-lingering thought. The one that began with “what if.”

What if things were not as they are?

What if life did not go on as it did?

What if the days could be turned around?

These were not new questions. But every parent, every guardian, on countless dark nights, between dawn and dusk had faced them, over and over. Questions asked and never answered. And the satisfaction one had to find in never knowing the answer, for it was not to be had in this world.

Changmin went on.

“Do you ever wonder Yunho? What it would be like if-”

“Yea,” came the quick reply. “If Jae wasn’t-wasn’t what he is.”

“What a man he’d be. For just a moment there, I saw it. When he was carrying her. It was like, he bent down a little boy and stood up-”

“Yea,” responded Yunho, feeling a stinging in his eyes. “I saw it too.”

Changmin wiped his eyes, “He’s a hero.”

“Yea he is.”

And then, Changmin, obviously wanting to lighten what was quickly becoming a dim conversation, said, a laugh in his voice, “Say, if I had a sister-I’d have her after you.

Then-”

Yunho sat up, smacking Changmin in the arm, “Then I’d be related to you. No thanks.”

They laughed.

By this time, Jaejoong and Maddy were making their way back down the hill, coming to where Yunho and Changmin sat. As before, Maddy led the way, but now, having been out in the sun and exerting much energy, her cheeks were flushed. Upon seeing his daughter thus, Changmin stood up and went quickly over to her. Yunho followed.

The little girl, obviously tired, still held tightly to Jaejoong’s hand and her first words, breathy and hard to catch were not for her father, as he bent down, cupping both hands around her small face, feeling just how warm she was, but to Yunho.

He bent down as well to hear her.

“Mr. Jung,” she began.

Jaejoong giggled, and Madeline turned to him. “What’s so funny,” she asked.

“Mr. Jung,” he repeated, still laughing. “Sounds like he’s the President. That’s Yunho, Maddy-Maddy.”

She shook her head at his words, as if he only a silly boy and not to be taken seriously and continued.

“Mr. Jung, can Hero come over today, after school? Can he stay for dinner? Can he sleep over?”

“Yes Madeline, Jaejoong can come over. But don’t you think you better ask your Daddy?”

The dark eyes, hopeful and bright, turned to Changmin, “Daddy? Daddy, is it okay? Can he?”

And Changmin, with a tender to her face, replied, “Sure Maddy, Jae can come over for dinner. But tomorrow’s a school day, Sweetheart. I don’t think a sleepover would be a good idea.”

He said this casting a look over to Yunho. There was something else here. Something not to be explained to these butterflies, for there was no way to explain it. A line not to be crossed. A line between boys and girls.

Yunho nodded, catching Madeline’s other hand in his own, “Your Daddy’s right Madeline. Both you and Jae have school tomorrow. But Jaejoong can still come over and stay for dinner. Okay?”

And here Jaejoong spoke, “Yea, Maddy. I don’t even have my sleepy bag.”

The little girl nodded her head, satisfied and said to Jaejoong, “Okay. Can you help me back to my chair, Hero?”

Jaejoong nodded and they both went down the hill again.

Yunho and Changmin started to follow.

“Yunho, do you want me to just take Jae over right now?”

“Sure, and then I’ll pick him up so you don’t have to drop him off too. I’ll get his stuff together.”

“What will you do with your night?”

“All four hours of it,” Yunho asked, laughing, and turning to go ahead and get together Jaejoong’s odds and ends.

Four hours to be unto himself. Nothing he had to do. No immediate needs to be met, except his own. Fours rare hours.

Yunho laughed to himself at the idea. He’d probably fall asleep.