With Jaejoong sitting back at the table, conversation slowly resumed. Taking a chair next to him, Yunho sat down to make sure Jaejoong finished what was left on his plate and cast a grateful look to Uncle Heen, who was now deftly removing the tray with the halved eggs on it from the table. The meal went forward from there without any further incident much to Yunho’s relief.

Focused as he was on making sure his little brother was eating, Yunho hardly had attention for anything else. However, at one point he looked up and saw Ana coming towards him. It was not strange that she should be coming over at this point; no doubt, she had seen the entire episode with Jaejoong. Yet, it was the expression in Ana’s face that held Yunho’s gaze; and what passed between them in the short moments before she came to sit at the table was an entire conversation, made without words. Indeed, spoken as clearly as if they were only inches from one another, and perhaps even more so because there was no sound between them. No clutter to stop us from what we really mean to say, no temptations to digress from saying exactly what we mean. This was two hearts speaking. Two hearts caught between the same love, the same loved one, where nothing but the truth can be.

Yunho wanted to turn away, turn and bypass this moment. It was a nuisance to him. What right had she to come to him now, now as his thoughts were elsewhere and demand of him any explanation? Who was she? Where had she been all those years that gave her the right to hold Yunho’s gaze now and demand truths. These truths Yunho held deep within himself as part of the promises he made, vows buried so deep next to the fibers of his heart that to have other eyes upon them now, to have a sort of light breaking in from another was painful. He wanted to turn away. She, (he did not even give her the dignity of a name at this point), had no right to be here. Here in his heart. His cares, his concerns were enough. Didn’t she know that? For all her so called love, did not she understand that his heart was heavy enough. Did she not understand that here was room for no other? That years and time had weighed his heart down so that it never beat as it should, but pounded. That his ribs were strained and near breaking with every breath because the palpitating vital they housed was so stretched and so misshapen its presence there was barely maintainable. And it was only because the growth had been slow over the years that his chest had steeled itself to bear the weight and strain.

Get out.

But it was too late. The conversation had begun-

You love him.

I love him.

Is this the life you lead then? Is this your life with him?

Yes.

You are his protector; I never realized how much till now.

Yes.

Yunho-

I‘m asking you Ana, please. Let me alone.

Yunho-

Get out.

Yunho I love him too. Please let me-

But before Yunho could respond, a gentle pressure laid itself on his shoulder. Blinking, looking away from Ana, Yunho saw Jaejoong, his head leaning against his elder brother’s shoulder, the dark eyes half closed. With an almost violent start, Yunho swung his arm around Jaejoong’s waist and swung him up into his arms and headed quickly for the house, careful not to meet Ana’s eyes as he passed her.

Back in their room, Yunho lay his brother down on the bed, took off his shoes and pulled the covers over him. Jaejoong mumbled something about how tired he was, drowsiness muddling his words. Yunho’s response was gentle, as he brushed away some of the dark tresses that had fallen into Jaejoong’s eyes. Yet despite the steadiness in Yunho’s voice, he felt as though a chill had settled over him making him shake. Taking a chair, the young man swung it next to the window where the sun’s morning light was streaming in. He sat down and let the warm light cover him.

Out of his mind and into his thoughts, Yunho drifted. It was as though the warmth from the sun managed to reach inside of him, touch his thoughts and chase away the cold. Memories wafted up before him, ones long held in suspension in the dark places of his mind. But touched now as they were by the light, they were freed and came before him, asking not to remain forgotten. They were birthdays, Christmas mornings, and climbing trees. All filled with laughter, all filled with smiles. Yunho heard Jaejoong’s laughter, saw so clearly his smile. He heard the sound of his parent’s voices; saw the gentleness of their expressions. And almost unknown to himself, Yunho heard his own laugh, saw his own smile.

At first, it did not seem real. Standing watching himself as can only be done in dreams; the young man saw and heard the days when he knew how to laugh. Or perhaps it was more correct to say, before he had forgotten. Of course, Time and the hurts it brought with stifled any desire he had to smile.

But the light-the light now. How dark all had become in him. How cold. And here he lived. Like-like something so far from the man he was, from the man he ought to be. All was illuminated. And these things Yunho had forgotten-they were too important. Much too important. Ana’s requests, her plea to be let in-it wasn’t wrong.

It was too late. Standing in the warmth of his memories, Yunho saw clearly how far away all those memories were and how even their gentle glow now only touched his skin, without reaching inside. It was too late. Had there been a time when Ana could’ve come with the offer of her heart, maybe the the lights and the smiles surrounding him then would have been enough for Yunho to see what she wanted to give. Maybe another heart could have taken some of the years from Yunho, leaving him longer in the light of his soul.

In the quiet of the room, with only the sound of Jaejoong’s breath beside him, Yunho saw what might have been. Not only the realization that Jaejoong would have had another hand to hold, another embrace to fall into, but the knowledge that he, himself, would have been a different man. These cares that he wore now, so heavy and painful, would not have had the power to etch away at him for all this time. Perhaps it wouldn’t be right to question if he would actually be happier, for happiness was not a word Yunho used often in connection with himself. What was the word? Lighter? Yes, lighter. Easier because there was someone else to hear Jaejoong cry, to see the delicate limbs strain and stiffen and to feel that frame fall into your arms.

But happiness isn’t something we are guaranteed in this life. And, until this moment, the memory of Ana’s gaze so fresh in Yunho’s mind, he had never asked anything other in this life than what he had. Maybe things would have been different, it was true. But Yunho had watched the light fade from all aspects of his life, except one. And that light rested now beside him on the bed. Yunho had fought to keep this light alive when all other lights went out.

It was too late. Too late for her to come in now and ask to be part of the shelter Yunho had built around his brother. The years of his life rested in each brick. His heart had lifted those walls. And it would be his blood before someone else came in.

A sudden vibration in Yunho’s pocket startled him. Quickly grabbing the phone, Yunho slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Hyung,” said an easy voice from the other end.

“Yoochun-ah,” Yunho answered.

“You holding up?”

“What makes you think I’m anything else other than a rock?” Yunho asked, a somewhat ironic smile playing over his lips given his reverie moments ago.

“Rocks break,” Yoochun answered quietly.

“I’m fine, Yoochun.”

“How is he?”

“Asleep. There was an incident over eggs this morning,” Yunho paused. “But other than that, I think he’s happy to be here, happy to see everyone. Yee had some piano set up for him to play earlier. A little show.”

“That sounds like the Yee I remember,” Yoochun replied. “You guys leaving tomorrow?”

“Yea,” Yunho answered quickly. “We’ll leave early in the morning, after church.”

“I’ll meet you at your place with Junsu.”

“I suppose you think I need that,” Yunho asked.

“I do. That and a few beers.”

“Soju for Junsu,” Yunho replied, smiling at the memory of the way Junsu’s nose crinkled up after every shot of the potent beverage.

Yoochun sighed, “Babo. Yea, Soju for him and beer for us.”

Awake, as if he had never been asleep, Jaejoong sat at the end of the bed, carefully slipping a sock over each foot. Yunho watched, without saying anything from the doorway. While there were many things that Yunho was “allowed” to help his brother with, putting socks on was not one of them. And why that was true, Yunho hadn’t the faintest idea. It was one of the few areas in their life together where Jaejoong declared his independence. It was an independence that sometimes caused them to be late running out the door for school, but they would be even later if Yunho wasted time insisting on helping with the socks.

Every time Jaejoong placed a sock over his foot, it was as if he watched in fascination as the skin of his foot vanished beneath the cloth of his sock. And it was new and spell-binding every time. The slender fingers grasping the opening of the sock, Jaejoong brought it to his foot, toes wriggling in anticipation. The gentle face was stern with concentration as dark eyes grew wider with the approach of the impending moment. There had been times when Yunho tested to see what, if anything could break Jaejoong’s concentration. If there was anything that could take those eyes off his own foot. Time had proven that while Jaejoong would respond to something Yunho said, not even a unicorn flying through the wall could hold so much wonder as now.

There was one time though, where the magic of socks had been questioned. It was an exceptionally balmy day that summer, even for Korea. The clouds that had been promising rain and relief from the humidity had only succeeded in enveloping the city into what felt like a teapot. Jaejoong had been given a plant from his teacher at school as an over-the-summer project. It was his plant to water and weed and watch if the blossoms would open. He had a log in which he recorded every day. Yunho had explained to him that on the days it rained, much to Jaejoong’s disappointment, it was not necessary to water “Fern.” And every day that the rain had stayed away, while the rest of the city was wilted and soggy, Jaejoong bounded out the door, fresh and bright, to water his Fern.

On one this day in particular though, Yunho had lost track of time, working from home and realized that Jaejoong was going to be late for his piano lesson, if they didn’t leave very soon. Calling Jaejoong in, Yunho sent him up to change as fast as he could. Jaejoong nodded dutifully, and hurried to his room, mumbling something about what he’d tell Fern when they got back home. Yunho went into the bathroom, to dampen a towel and run it over Jaejoong’s flushed face. As Yunho was making a mental note to tell Jaejoong to put on deodorant, the slim figure appeared in the door way of the bathroom. The dark eyes were wide with worry.

“What is it, Jae?”

“My sock won’t work,” he said, the words thick with emotion.

“What?” Yunho asked, before looking down and understanding what he meant.

Jaejoong stood, and upon his foot a sock, which had clearly been pulled as far as it would go, leaving more than half the sock dangling off his foot. Humid as it was outside, Jaejoong’s feet were too hot and sweaty to pull a sock over. The expression of woe on his brother’s face was as poignant as the moment was comical and Yunho bit the inside of his so as not to smile.

“Jae,” he said gently, reaching for the baby powder he was grateful he kept in the cabinet, “Socks don’t like wet feet.”

“They don’t?”

“No. Feet have to be dry before socks will cover them,” Yunho replied, motioning for Jaejoong to sit down.

Yunho pulled off the sock and shook a cloud of baby powder into his palm. Carefully, for Jaejoong was extremely ticklish, he rubbed the drying powder over each foot.

And had there been eyes to watch both of them at that moment, they would have seen one man, made strong by his own will to be a force to protect this little prince, lost in a world not his own. This man, down on his knees to serve his prince.

Still standing in the doorway, Yunho was about to ask Jaejoong why he was changing his socks, when Jaejoong spoke aloud.

“I have to change my socks,” he said.

Whether or not, the statement was meant for Yunho, the man did not know. In fact, it was not uncommon for Jaejoong to say something seemingly to no one. But Yunho took the moment to ask anyway.

“Why, Jae? Why do you have to change your socks?”

“Ana’s taking me to the museum.”

“What!?” Yunho exclaimed, hot emotion at the end of his words. “When did she say that?”

“Last time,” Jaejoong answered simply.

“Last time…?” Yunho’s mind raced to think of when the last time was that Jaejoong had seen Ana. It hadn’t been for years. “Jae…the last time you saw Ana was-“

The memory hit him like a thunder bolt.

That day. The last day of the trial. She must have said it to him then, sweet empty words to lessen the knowledge that it might be never before she saw Jaejoong.

The heat in his voice blew out. “Jae,” he said quietly, coming over to his brother and sitting down, “That was a long time ago when Ana said that to you. She might not remember.”

“I remember,” Jaejoong replied, looking at Yunho as if that was answer enough.

“I know you do you Jae but-“

But Yunho stopped himself. It didn’t matter whether Ana remembered she had said that to Jaejoong. It truly didn’t. Of course she would take him. Even if her plans were already set for the day, she would break them for Jaejoong. There was probably little she wouldn’t do for him.

The dark eyes were upon him, waiting for Yunho to continue.

“But,” Yunho fumbled for words. “But you better hurry and find her, before the day gets any later,” he said at last.

“Okay!” Jaejoong exclaimed, bounding up. “Do you want to come?”

“No,” answered Yunho quickly. “I-I’ll stay here and pack up our things. We’re leaving tomorrow morning.”

Jaejoong looked confused.

“Yoochun called,” Yunho answered the expression on his brother’s face, “He’s going to be at home when we get there with Junsu. We’ll have a fun day.”

“Will he bring milk tea?” Jaejoong asked, clasping his hands together excitedly.

“I’ll remind him,” Yunho said.

“Okay!” Jaejoong clapped and bounded out of the room.

Yunho felt a tightness in his chest release and he wrote out a text to Yoochun.

“Buy some milk tea.”

                             *

It wasn’t until Yunho saw Ana’s car pull out of the driveway that he began to pack Jaejoong’s things and his own, leaving out only what they would need for tomorrow. If there were thoughts, he blocked them out. And it was his intention to stay in the room all day, maybe checking some emails and preparing himself for the work load he knew to be waiting for him when he got back to work on Monday. As it was though, Yunho had only just zippered his own duffel bag shut when Uncle Heen’s rather broad figure appeared in the doorway.

We appreciate people in our lives for all different reasons. There are those whose continual support of our day-to-day lives charge and further us. These are the people we see and talk to nearly every day. But there are those who only make brief appearances in our lives. They appear and fade at so long of intervals that we forget how strong their presence is. Heen was one of these. A pillar of support and strength.

He came into the room and smiled at Yunho, asking if they might sneak away from the house together. Yunho looked at him and nodded. Of course he would go with him. Heen swung his arm around Yunho’s shoulder and whispered that he had driven his newly furnished and detailed corvette to this reunion, “just to make Yee sneeze,’ as he always put it. In spite of himself, Yunho laughed, glad to be next to Heen, glad for his sameness.

  Needless to say that during the whole legal process, all of the family showed as much disapproval of what Yunho was trying to accomplish as they possibly could. Uncle Heen, though, never did. He was there at every hearing; Yunho never knew how he managed to keep his job. But every day, Yunho could turn and look and seen Heen sitting in the far back corner. And when it was finally over, as Yunho was walking out of the courtroom, he felt a strong arm fall across his shoulders and a squeeze of pressure on his arm. Yunho turned with enough time to see Heen nod his head and turn and walk away.

The years had done nothing. Heen was the same.

Outside in the car, the hum of the powerful engine purring in his ears, Yunho eased back and watched the city streets jump away at the sight of this car. Heen teased Yunho about his lack of automotive knowledge, gleamingly proud of his car. And Yunho teased Heen for spending twice as much on this car as he could have for one that was newer and passed more than every gas station in town.

Their conversation was light and meaningless. Both knew how much had passed and how each other had suffered in different ways over the same cause that there was no need to bring it up. Without a doubt, Yunho knew Heen had received his own special disdain from the family for not sticking on their side. And he wanted just as much to help his uncle have a good time.

The little thunder-clad car sped into town and swung into an American bar. In Korea, there are bars for foreigners, for people whose native tongue wasn’t Korean. This was one of those places and a predominantly American one at that. The music, the menus, were all in English and even the wait-staff were required to be fluent in English. Yunho felt a flush rise in his cheeks. While he understood English perfectly and could even write it fairly well, Yunho had trouble speaking it. There was a rhythm to English he never managed to catch. And on top of that, the letter “r” never sounded…right. Heen smacked him in the arm, a wicked grin on his face. Yunho laughed and got out of the car.

                        *

It was after dinner by the time Jaejoong came back to the house with Ana. Jaejoong clung to a stuffed purple Brontosaurus, his eyes blinking sleepily. Yunho was able to lead him upstairs, listening as Jaejoong’s words about his day at the museum began to slow and blur into one another. Without doing more than taking off his shoes, Yunho lay his brother down into the bed, draped the blanket over him and whispered goodnight.

“Kiss Marty,” came the sleep-slurred voice.

“Good-night Marty,” Yunho said, placing a kiss on the fuzzy toy.

Still early in the evening, most of the Jung family had collected somewhere between the living room and the outside patio. But the den towards the back of the house was untouched and Yunho went back there to his laptop, where still unanswered emails awaited him. Voices from the other end of the house were a dull hum and the only other sound was that of Yunho’s fingers as they struck the keyboard. He had been at work here since him and Uncle Heen had come back from the bar. Yunho hoped to be able to finish off the last few of what had been a mound of emails before he went and faced the family, informing them all that, sadly, he and Jaejoong would be leaving early tomorrow morning, before breakfast.

              So concentrated was he, the sliding back of the door and Ana’s silhouette appearing there, didn’t cause Yunho to look up from the computer screen. She coughed, but Yunho still did not look up.

“Am I disturbing you,” she asked, stepping into the room. “I come bearing coffee,” Ana continued, holding out a steamy cup.

Without raising his eyes from the screen, Yunho replied, “Thanks Ana. But I don’t drink coffee this late.”

              “Oh. Well, I just really wanted to come in and thank you.” She paused, waiting for Yunho to make some kind of response, but he didn’t, so Ana continued. “I wanted to thank you for letting me take him to the museum today, Yunho. It meant a lot to me. Being with Jaejoong and all…it’s wonderful. And you should see the way people just stare at him! Like he’s out of this world. Especially women.”

              “You should see them stare when he’s holding my hand,” Yunho replied dryly.

              Ana laughed and paused for a moment, as if unsure how to continue. At length she said, “I had so much fun today Yunho. I’d do it again in heartbeat. I’d be there for Jaejoong if you ever needed. If you asked. I’d be there.”

                Closing his computer, Yunho’s eyes met Ana’s. “I know that Ana. And thank you. But it’s not your job.”

              “My job? Well no, of course not. It’s not a job,” she said, the emotion in her voice beginning to rise. “That’s not how you think of it, is it?”

              “Think of what,” Yunho asked, the dark eyes still upon her’s.

              “Is that how you think of your life with him? As a job?! It’s not! It’s something you do. Something you just do! Like-like-“

              “Like living,” Yunho growled, standing. “This is my life you’re talking about Ana. With Jaejoong every day. It isn’t something you just take on for fun.”

              “Stop sounding like a martyr,” she snapped.

              “When you stop sounding like a willing victim,” Yunho snarled, his voice dangerously low. “Could you do it, Ana? Could you die for him?”

              “Any day,” she cried.

              “Then do it every day. Every morning I wake up, every side-ways glance someone gives him in the store, every moment I remember that he’ll never fully be able to participate in this world, I die!”

              “Fully participate?” Ana cried. “You make it sound like he’s not everything he should be. He’s wonderful! How dare you make that judgment on him. Who do you think you are?”

              “I’m his brother!” Yunho roared, striding over to Ana.

              Ana gasped. Her hand flew to . “Oh, Yunho. I’m-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please-I-I’m sorry.”

              His eyes blazed and his chest heaved with emotion, but Yunho spoke with a deadly calm. “Good night Ana. We’re leaving in the morning.”