176 DAYS BEFORE

                “I’d like you to discuss this question with your seatmate,” the math teacher instructed. Minhae didn’t fail to notice the look of frustration on Wendy’s face. Minhae didn’t show it, but she felt slightly annoyed as well. It was as if the teachers are trying to do things to get the class to talk to her and Junhong. “I’ll give you 6 minutes to come up with an answer.”

                Out of the corner of her eye, Minhae observed Wendy. Wendy didn’t move; all she did was stare at the chalkboard, as if she was mentally going to answer the question by herself. But the teacher already said that it was a complex question. Minhae looked at the question more closely, and faintly recalled Junhong trying to teach her something similar to it.

                Looking over her shoulder to the other side of the room, she saw him casually relaxing, not sparing a glance at his seatmate. A small smile touched her lips; he probably already solved the question. Perks of having no friends, he would say. Though, she could tell that he was affected by the loneliness. For the rest of the time, she just stared off into space, thinking, forgetting about the question.

                She returned to reality when she heard the teacher call out her and Wendy’s names, asking them for the answer they got for the question. Considering Minhae couldn’t speak, she turned to Wendy, signalling her to answer. But Wendy didn’t even look at Minhae, her eyes glued on the board. Minhae realized that Wendy was actually nervous, as if she didn’t have a clue what to say. She looked down at her notebook, trying to solve the question quickly so she could tell Wendy. But she didn’t understand it one bit.

                “S-Seven...” Wendy awkwardly answered, her eyes filled with confusion. The math teacher looked back at the duo, looking perplexed. “That’s what Minhae got. I just listened to her because I don’t really understand.” Minhae eyes closed for a split second, trying to calm herself down.

                “I’m sorry, but it’s incorrect,” the teacher responded, still looking as if it was the worst answer he had ever received. Wendy shrugged, leaning back.

                “Well, as I said, Minhae got that. So I would like some extra help after class, if possible.” Wendy requested. The teacher nodded, then continued going around the class, until he reached Junhong.

                “Junhong? Taehyun?” He asked. So far, no one got the answer correct.

                “One hundred and fifty six,” Taehyun responded, the exact same time Junhong replied quietly with “One hundred and seventeen.” Because of Taehyun’s louder, more intimidating voice, Junhong went completely unheard by the other students.

                “How did you two get separate answers? You’re supposed to be working together,” the teacher interrogated. “Is there a problem?”

                “Sir, he didn’t want to work with me. Completely ignored me. Called me stupid,” Taehyun lied nonchalantly. Junhong looked at him in surprise, but Taehyun didn’t notice. It’s not like he would argue with Junhong, so what’s the point?

                “Is that true, Junhong?” The teacher asked him. He just shrugged, as if he didn’t want to start a fight. She knew Junhong well enough that she thought he would let it slide. Shaking his head in disappointment, the math teacher went along with his lesson, not before stating, “One hundred and seventeen is the correct answer.”

***

175 DAYS BEFORE

                “I’m going to visit Yongguk tomorrow,” Junhong randomly brought up, as the pair stood in line at the cafeteria. They could hear the chattering of the other students, but they just ignored it. Minhae raised her eyebrows, to ask ‘really?’ After a small pause, Junhong opened his mouth to speak again. Before he could respond, someone randomly walked up, cutting the pair in line.

                The two looked at each other, confused. Junhong just shrugged, as if he was used to it. She understood why they did it, but it still caught her off guard. He opened his mouth to speak again, but once again, was cut in front of the line by some giggling first years. She noticed as Junhong furrowed his eyebrows, getting slightly frustrated.

                “Yeah.” He finally said, without getting interrupted. Minhae responded with a nod. Junhong started to say something before someone harshly bumped into his shoulder, pushing him back a few steps. The other boys just walked passed, cutting them in line, as if nothing happened. She watched as he knitted his brows together, visibly irritated. She was about to write something on the matter when Junhong started to speak. “At noon.” Minhae realized he just wanted to avoid the topic of the boys, so she wasn’t going to press on it. Slowly, she started to write down a question, scribbling it down.

                “Is he any better?” The notebook read, and she noticed Junhong visibly flinch. Maybe it wasn’t the best question to ask. “Never--” She was in the process of writing when Junhong interrupted.

                “Kind of? No... not really,” he responded sheepishly, a look of frustration spread across his face. “We thought the chemotherapy would work,” he said in a hushed tone, “but it’s starting to develop faster now...” Minhae started to get curious.

                “Does he always stay in the hospital?” She wrote down, completely forgetting that Junhong could be sensitive to the questions. He looked shocked at her curiosity, and seemed a bit awkward when answering, but she didn’t notice.

                “No, he comes home usually. But he went to the hospital yesterday for check-up and for some more intense medication and chemotherapy,” Junhong half-heartedly responded, looking around the cafeteria. Minhae nodded, deeply intrigued by the conversation. Hesitantly, she wrote down another question.

                “May I come visit tomorrow?” She slowly showed him the notepad, and when he looked up at her face, she gave him a nervous smile, as if she were uncertain herself. He just gave her a small smile back.

                “Of course you can,” he answered. After a split second, he added on. “Ah, we should work on the history too. Can we go to your house after?” Minhae immediately shook her head. Junhong was taken aback by her quick response. “W-Why?”

                “My dad doesn’t allow people over,” she wrote down. Junhong furrowed his eyebrows, as if it was the most absurd thing he had ever read.

                “Why?” He slowly questioned, making Minhae shrug.

                “He just doesn’t like it. How about your house?”

                “Uh,” Junhong stuttered, making Minhae tilt her head in confusion. “W-Well, maybe, I guess, I have to see if they’ll-- I mean, ask my parents...” His words got less and less audible, and she struggled to hear his words. She just gave him a slow nod, eyeing his every moment. Junhong was slightly shaking, she noticed, as he was fidgeting and slightly pacing back and forth, though, not noticeable. There was dead silence between the two. It was thirty minutes before the pair reached the servery, being welcomed with cold pasta and fries.

                After lunch ended, the two headed off to their classroom, yet an awkward tension remained. None of them broke it, both going to their own desks on opposite sides of the room once they entered the class.

                Minhae was reading a book, waiting, when she felt someone tap her chair, signalling her to tuck in. She did it without looking, concentrating on the people in her fictional world. Wendy started to take out her stuff, but Minhae wasn’t concentrating on her. If Wendy didn’t care about her, why did she have to care about Wendy? She gulped. It was useless to care about those who didn’t care for you.

                She noticed when they stood up, welcoming in the English teacher. Woah, when did Wendy get so tall? Is she wearing high heels? Minhae clearly remembered Wendy as a girl only slightly taller than her, but that day, she seemed extremely tall, towering about her. Maybe I can... just take a peek... pretend I’m looking out the windo--

                Her train of thought was interrupted when she looked to the left. In her sight was not Wendy. In fact, it was a completely different girl that she could barely recognize. Am I in the right class? She looked to her right, and was greeted with her usual classmates. Her eyes suddenly focused on Wendy, who was now sitting in the front corner of the class. What? Minhae looked up straight again, looking at the mysterious girl from the corner of her eye. The girl didn’t bat an eyelash at Minhae’s direction; her eyes were glued to the front of the class.

                Minhae tried to ignore it, but she still felt a pang of hatred from Wendy. She could have just ignored Minhae forever, but instead, she changed seats. Minhae shouldn’t be caring about how others thought of her, but she still felt like she was worst person alive. People ignore her, and now, people make up excuses to get away from her.

                As she started to work, she felt a person come up next to her. It was the English teacher.

                “Minhae, Wendy had to move seats,” her teacher informed her. She furrowed her eyebrows. What kind of excuse did she make up this time? “She couldn’t see the board from so far back, so she had to move up. Hayoung is your seatmate now, okay?” Minhae returned with a nod, trying to look as unaffected as possible. As he walked away, she noticed he talked with a soft, delicate voice, as if Minhae was so fragile that she would break. Minhae pressed her lips together, a bit turned off that the teacher thought she was so weak. But deep down, she knew that was exactly how she felt.

                This was much worse than when Wendy was sitting next to her. When Wendy was there, not saying anything, it was like being stabbed with a knife. When Wendy purposely lied to get away, it was like being stabbed repeatedly. She could just imagine Wendy looking at her, her face blank, empty of care, empathy, and even sympathy. If she looked closely enough, maybe she could see a look of pity. Just maybe.

***

174 DAYS BEFORE

                Minhae gulped as she stood in front of the door to Yongguk’s room at the hospital. In her hand was a bag, which had Yongguk favorite food. Deciding to do something nice for him, she made sushi, which according to Junhong was his most favorited food, other than the godly ramen of course. Slightly shaking her head with a small smile on her face, she slowly opened the door and peeked inside.

                “Junhong?” She heard a hoarse voice call out. Slowly, she walked in towards the room, afraid to see a look of disappointment on Yongguk’s face. Instead, he had a small smile on his face when he noticed her, brightening up at the bag in her hand. “Ah, Minhae. I’m sorry, Junhong isn’t here yet. But take a seat.” He motioned towards a chair near her. She eyed him suspiciously; she noticed that he seemed weaker and slower. She slightly bit her lip in worry.

                Placing the bag on the table, she took out the box, revealing her own handmade sushi. She let out a nervous giggle, remembering the trouble she had to go through the day before. Never in her life had Minhae made sushi, though now, she thought she could be calling herself an expert. Yongguk’s face visibly brightened, looking at the sushi.

                “Is that... for me?” He asked, eyeing it with a gummy smile on his face. Minhae sheepishly nodded. “Handmade?” She nodded once again in response. “Thank you so much, I’m grateful. I haven’t had it in a while.” He let out a deep laughter. Minhae headed towards her chair, relaxing. It was nice being with Yongguk. He had a comforting sort of aura, something that Minhae didn’t mind being next to. She felt a small smile making its way towards her lips.

                “Listen, Minhae,” Yongguk started to say. She blinked at him, interested. “Thank you. Not just for this but for... being with Junhong.” Minhae furrowed her eyebrows, confused. She took out her notepad.

                “What do you mean?” She neatly wrote, showing Yongguk. She could get at what he was saying; ‘thanks for being friends with him,’ but was it really something to thank her for?

                “For being his friend.” She knew it. “For a kid who’s only 16... he has it rough. I mean--” He paused. “Maybe he should be telling you this.” Minhae just shrugged. He let out a sigh. “It’s worse than most people, I suppose.”

                “A lot of us have it hard...” Minhae scribbled down. “It just depends on how you deal with it.” Yongguk just nodded in return. They sat in silence, but it was comforting. Despite only knowing him for such a short time, they seemed very natural with each other.

                “Minhae, do you happen to know Hayoung? Yoonho? Yugyeom?” Yongguk suddenly asked, a more serious look on his face. But still, he couldn’t look serious as he was eating his sushi very intently. Thinking for a second, Minhae recalled those three people. They were all in the same grade as Minhae. She had never talked to them before, but she knew who they were. She nodded.

                “I know of them,” she wrote down. “But I didn’t talk to them.” She paused. “Actually, I’ve talked to Hayoung a few times. She seems lovely.” Minhae gave him a small smile, as he nodded, taking in her response. “Why?” She scribbled down. He paused, as if he was thinking.

                “I was just wondering,” he responded, his deep voice sounding strained. “They were... close with Junhong back then.” She knew exactly when he meant by back then. Back when he wasn’t an outcast and could just live him life peacefully. A question slithered its way into her head. She swatted it away. No, I can’t, it’s too personal. But she wanted to know. Everyone became an outcast for some sort of reason; whether they talk to one, or they’re ugly, or even if they’re overweight. But no one became an outcast for no reason.

                Hesitantly, she wrote down, “do you know why?” Yongguk looked taken aback.

                “Why... what?” He questioned. Though, it seemed as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. As if he just wanted to stall.

                Before any of them could say anything else, they turned their heads when they heard the sound of the door opening. It was Junhong. He gave them both a small smile, though notably, a brighter one for Yongguk. Of course. She was still itching with curiosity. Why was Junhong outcasted? He wasn’t particularly overweight or ugly or dumb, like other outcasts were. She looked at him, wondering. Junhong caught her glances, and in return, sent her a quick smile. She felt herself return it. He had a sweet smile, so why did it have to be like this, she wondered.

                “Oh, Minhae brought you sushi?” He asked in shock, looking at the food in Yongguk’s hands. Minhae nodded, even though the question wasn’t directed at her. He shot her glance, looking grateful, before turning back to tend Yongguk. The question still stuck at the back of her head, but she let it fade, taking in the calming visit.

                It was a quiet visit. But something made it very memorable. Maybe it was the way Yongguk looked so grateful, or how Junhong looked genuinely happy for once. All she knew was that she was glad that she visited, even though she did not do much. It stung a little as Junhong and Minhae both left his room, waving as the nurses ushered the pair to quickly depart. Despite his smiling face, she could sense the pain and loneliness behind Yongguk’s eyes. They were just like his brother’s, Junhong’s.

                The two slowly walked away from the hospital in silence. She shuffled her feet slowly, looking at the floor and thinking about Yongguk.

                “You can come over, I suppose,” Junhong quietly uttered, breaking the tension. Minhae looked up. “To do the history project, Minhae. It’s due soon, remember?” She nodded solemnly, her mind still wandering. She could hear every word that Junhong was saying, but it just wasn’t processing. If he noticed, he didn’t point it out.

                The two boarded the bus, riding in silence save for the occasional sneezes and coughs. Minhae’s mind was somewhere else, and she thought his was too. Junhong was staring off into the distance, a look of innocence on his face. The silence was comforting, in a strange way. When they reached the stop, the atmosphere suddenly grew a bit tenser.

                “My parents aren’t home,” he said, breaking the tension. His voice was shaking, but she didn’t point it out. “Or at least, they shouldn’t be.” Minhae just nodded in response, unsure of what to say. The pair stopped in front of a house; it was an average sized house, looking like completely normal. It seemed inviting. But Junhong’s sour expression indicated otherwise.

                The moment Junhong pushed open the door, she heard a loud noise, as if glass was breaking. Junhong looked visibly taken aback, gripping the handle of the door a bit tighter. Peering into the house, she found it messy.

                “I’m home,” Junhong called out, his voice hoarse. She could see the frustration building up in him. Maybe this was why he didn’t want her over. A woman peered out into the hallway, someone she suspected to be Junhong’s mom. She had dark blonde hair, similar to Junhong’s, but it looked dishevelled. There seemed to be tear marks on her face, her eyes puffy. She had a big grin on her face, hiding it, but it didn’t seem genuine. In fact, it seemed insane.

                “Oh, hello dear!” She called out, her voice shrill from ‘excitement’. It seemed too peppy. Junhong must have noticed as well. “I’m sorry, I was just--” Another loud shatter.“--cleaning the dishes. Clumsy me!” She let out a forced giggle. She stopped, seeming to notice Minhae. “Ah, is this your friend, Junhongie?”

                “Mom...” Junhong growled, seeming irritated.

                “Why, hello there! Do come in!” She welcomed. Mrs. Choi took one step back into the kitchen, disappearing. Minhae gulped, slightly unsure of what was going on. Junhong let out a sigh.

                “Sorry, Minhae,” he said quietly. “Come in, I promise, nothing will happen to you.” Minhae hesitated for a second, looking into his eyes. She couldn’t help but feel how genuine he was. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the house. Minhae felt bad for thinking it, but she was scared. Something about Junhong’s mom seemed wrong. “Let’s go upstairs, quickly,” he uttered, grabbing her wrist. They both went up the stairs, but not before Minhae caught sight of someone else in the kitchen with his mom.

Author’s note: i am honestly so so so sorry for the long delay, last week was super busy and i was trying to concentrate on another fic for a contest ending soon. I hope that this chapter was up to expectations. The pace will quicken soon (honestly, how will I ever finish this story? haha), i hope.

if you enjoyed, i would appreciate it if you guys upvote, comment and subscribe, it really motivates me (: thank you so much for reading, i hope you have a nice day!