Jung Hoseok, at the age of nine, greeted his little brother with open arms. His father had told him about marrying a woman with a son, who is younger than him. Typically, any boy with wealth surrounding their days, would retort the said idea because they ‘don’t share toys’ and might as well refused to have dividing attention from their only parent. This being said, effected Jeon Jungkook’s impression when he first saw Hoseok.

For all he care, even by the age of innocence, Jungkook learned that Hoseok didn’t posed as those that were told by his classmates. Rich kids were supposed to be snobbish, spoiled, arrogant and annoyingly bossy.  And Hoseok didn’t fall in the category.

Jungkook breathes heavily when Hoseok pulls him gently to play in the large yard one day. Different species of flowers blooms along with the greeneries, making it the perfect spring wedding for his mother. With Hoseok’s hand no longer wrapped around his tiny wrist, Jungkook soon notices that he was left to stand alone on the ground while Hoseok hops towards one of the flower bush, pulling several colored petals and places it in the small pouch of his pants.

Jungkook watches in bewilderment when Hoseok returns, clutching the collected flowers in his palm and it towards Jungkook’s direction. “Here. They smell like the sun.”

“Sun?” the smaller boy questions, trying to piece the information that said sun has smells. The sun that radiates during the day and shy away when the night looms. “Mommy said the sun is too far from here.”

“But why does it look so big?” Hoseok quirked a teasing smile, winking playfully when Jungkook looks confused again.

“My teacher told me that it looks big because it needs to light up the world.”

Jungkook pouts when his answer ends. He has no idea what his teacher meant by ‘world’. All he knows is that he lives with his mother for as long as he remember, neglecting the thought that the presence of a father is much needed if they need a stable life. The world, as the adult told him, consists of people and other things.

There is so much in the world that Jungkook has no idea of.

Hoseok tilts his head, eyes wide in amazement. He grins sheepishly when Jungkook hesitantly reaches out, taking the flowers and inhales the flowery scent. The younger boy can’t distinguish the smell as similar as those of the sun, so he asks, “Is this made of sun?”

“Maybe,” Hoseok smiles. Then he drags them towards an unoccupied wooden bench, Jungkook allowing his legs to keep up with Hoseok’s fast strides. “Come on. Let’s go and pick some more!”

They sat there for hours, Hoseok plucking on flowers while Jungkook observes the petals in his hands withers and crumbles. The sun sets nicely, warm and orange casting on their youthful faces. Jungkook blinks curiously, holding one petal up and blocks his view.

His eyes widens in recognition. “Hoseok!” he nudges his brother’s arm. “Look!”

Hoseok, tearing his focus away from a red rose, stares at the petal with interest. A sudden smile crosses his pretty lips and whispers, “They’re alive.”

Jungkook nods enthusiastically. “They’re going to bid farewell to mommy sun!”

Laughing together, the moments feels like it could last forever for them. Since then, they lived by the secrets that flowers were made of sun. Because through orange rays, the petals were fluorescent and glowing. A sign of life.

Hoseok waits for him. He patiently taps his foot on the carpeted floors as Jungkook tries to suppress his tears. When the pianist sniffles lightly, he mindlessly reaches for Hoseok’s hands. Squeezing gently, he softly asks, “What happened, Hoseok?”

“Nothing.”

“That means everything.”

The older brother sighs loudly and shrugs. “I got into a fight.”

Jungkook turns his head and stares at Hoseok’s side profile. The brother gives him a brief look before he laughs dryly. “It’s not a big deal, Kookie.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Hoseok mulls the possibility of telling the truth. However, seeing Jungkook’s state tonight, he doesn’t want to burden the young male. “You don’t have to worry about it.”

Jungkook smiles faintly, still holding Hoseok’s hand. “You’re my brother. Hoseok, don’t you trust me at all?”

“I do, Kookie. I trust you.”

“Tell me.”

Biting his lips, Hoseok turns slightly and exhales softly. He closes his eyes briefly before it lands on the moonlighted face of his brother. “It’s a stupid move, okay? I walked into an unfamiliar street and I accidently bumped someone. He didn’t take it well, so I punched his sorry face for being rude.”

“But your hands are not swollen,” Jungkook disagress. “Your face is battered, though. You’re lying.”

“Kookie–”

“Really, Hoseok? Is it not a big deal that you refuses to tell me?”

“Listen. You’re upset and you’re tired. Please calm down–”

Jungkook clenches his fists and stands, striding towards his study desk and pulls the drawer open. His hands searches for something, the sound of paper rustling and pens clanking against each other is heard. Hoseok fixes his gaze on the blank wall, sighing when Jungkook hands him a folded paper.

“What’s this?”

The younger brother frowns and usher him to open it. Reluctantly, Hoseok obliges and gasps. “Are you still going to deny that you’re going into that street again? Hoseok, there’re reasons why father grounds you for that!”

“Where did you get this?”

“One of the maids found it. Apparently father knows about the competition and he wants you to stop dreaming and live as planned.”

“That’s… not true. Kookie, someone gave it to me and I just took it. I swear, I know my limits.”

Jungkook glances at Hoseok’s desperate face. It feels cruel to witness the sadness in his brother’s ey