Chapter Text
Suho woke up six months after that doomed fight. He found himself alone and disoriented, his heartbeat quickly spiked up and a machine started making weird, loud noises that only altered him further. His entire body felt stiff and his skin was somehow two sizes too small for his body. He could barely move his right arm to try to take off the mask that was covering most of his face, all without success.
He took a quick look at the hospital room where he was at, dimly lit, and he could see the dark night sky outside the window. A nurse opened the door, looking at him with surprise. She immediately called for someone, but Suho felt drowsy and his eyelids were already dropping. He was out before the doctor could enter the room.
The second time he recovered consciousness, he wasn’t alone anymore. A nurse was already next to him by the time his eyes were fully open, and he could hear cries on the other side of the bed. With great effort he moved his left hand towards his grandma’s hand, who was already grabbing his hospital robe tightly.
“Don’t… Cry…” He tried to mumble, his throat felt stuffed with sand, and his voice sounded incredibly rough even for his own ears. But his grandmother must have understood, because she started crying even more.
“Do you remember your name?” An old man with almost completely white hair asked him, while a nurse behind him was checking god knows what. Suho nodded without hesitation but didn’t reply, still struggling to react. “What’s your name, son?”
“Ahn… Suho.” He whispered, clearing his throat. He felt exhausted. He wanted to stay awake, his mind screaming to take back control of his body, but it was a lost battle.
“He remembers his name, that’s a really good start, and we should expect him to regain and lose consciousness for the next—“ The doctor wasn’t talking to him, Suho realized, and without guilt he allowed himself to get swiped by the heavy waves of darkness. The doctor said he would wake up again, it was fine.
—
The doctor had been right. He would wake up at random intervals and every time he was able to stay awake for longer and longer. Sometimes he was alone, sometimes his grandma was right by his side and sometimes the nurse in turn was in the room with him. He knew there was something missing, but he still couldn’t pinpoint what. The doctors weren’t pushing his memories, asking easier things like his age and what year it was. Suho couldn’t help but to wonder, of course. He didn’t remember why he was in the hospital, not quite. A fight. He had a vague, distorted image of being on the ground and feeling a lot of pain, and then nothing.
It was extremely frustrating, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had more pressing matters to worry about. It had been a miracle, the doctors said, for Suho to wake up and show such little signs of damage after six months in a coma. His mind was still relatively sharp, but his body couldn’t say the same. He was barely able to move around after two weeks of being awake, his hands refused to grip things and Suho tried to not let the humiliation wash over him everytime he needed help with any basic need. And there was the empty pressure in his chest that he knew had nothing to do with a physical condition. Something was missing, and it hurt.
Someone.
He asked his grandma one afternoon.
“Grandma, why has no one come to see me?” He wondered, unsure of what else he could ask to understand. He didn’t really remember anyone from his school. Byeoksan. He remembered having two part time jobs, remembered the restaurant and his motorcycle. A flash of a warm body against his back, arms hugging him tightly. His grandma was looking at Suho with sad eyes.
“We had to move to a new hospital for a sudden operation when your condition worsened, and then again once they realized you were still… Unconscious after so many months, my child. I lost contact with your friend… Sieun, when that happened. I tried asking for him but… I’m sorry.”
My friend.
Yeon Sieun.
Sieun-ah.
It seemed that once the memory had been unlocked, Suho was only capable of thinking about his friend, his Sieun. As a month passed by, they allowed him to get his phone back, and the first thing he did was texting Sieun. The messages didn’t arrive, the calls didn’t go through, and Suho realized with dread that Sieun must have changed his number. His friend didn’t have any social media who could aid Suho in his search either. They were living in Haeundae-gu now, his grandma told him, and it would take a long time before Suho was in any shape to go back to Seoul, all the way to Byeoksan, to ask for Sieun. The waiting made him restless, and he felt Sieun’s empty spot next to him like a missing limb.
Suho tried his best regardless. Even when his physical therapy went terrible some days, when his entire body hurt, he kept pushing through. Suho had never been a quitter, and he wasn’t going to start now. He made sure to eat well, exercise as much as the doctors recommended him, and rest too… Not without some complaints from him, or course. Overall, doing anything in his power to get back in shape as quickly as possible.
He called Youngyi a few of times but the girl never answered. He posted a couple of selfies on instagram, letting the world know that Ahn Suho was still alive and kicking, a small part of him hoping to be contacted by Sieun at that. He was left disappointed but that didn’t deter him. Suho tried to convince himself he wasn’t doing it all exclusively to go and find Sieun as soon as possible, but also because the money would eventually run out and Suho needed to go back to working.
Maybe he could get a full time job now, since losing an entire year of school was enough to stop him from wanting to waste more time getting a degree. It was something he still hadn’t discussed with his grandma, but he was avoiding the topic, not wanting to fight about it.
After a third month of doing physical therapy and not having any type of fall or accident, he was finally discharged. He would still need to go back to the hospital three times per week, but now he had enough time to go back to Seoul and contact Sieun. His grandma didn’t object, but asked him to be very careful. Suho could see she didn’t want him running around Seoul, but she must have known. She had to. How important Sieun was to him. How there was nothing as important as Sieun.
On the way to Seoul, he indulged in some daydreaming. Thinking about Sieun, about his reaction to seeing Suho after long months of being separated. Would he cry? Would he… Would he hug him? With his heart rumbling against his chest, Suho tried to keep away the blush creeping down his face and neck. He had fought those types of thoughts more and more, recently.
He still had some hazy memories about Byeoksan, about Beomseok and Youngyi, about Sieun. And Suho couldn’t be a hundred percent sure yet, but as time passed, he felt like it couldn’t be any other way. He had liked his friend, Sieun. He still likes him. Misses him. Yearns for his presence. His phone, filled with many candid photos of Sieun under the folder ‘my sieun-ah’ spoke louder than any words could. But things hadn’t been as easy as Suho imagined they would be.
Sieun wasn’t studying at Byeoksan anymore, and none of the teachers would tell him why. The principal congratulated him on his recovery, and offered him many options to continue his studies, but he wasn’t interested in that at all. Where could he find Sieun?
He went to his house, not quite confident in the address his brain was desperately trying to remember, instead going by intuition alone. He could feel it, he had walked through these streets many times. His mind couldn’t remember but his body did. He had gone down this path night after night to visit Sieun. Suho arrived successfully, with a smile, and left heartbroken. Sieun didn’t live there anymore, the apartment was empty. The neighbors had no idea where the pair had moved to.
Suho had never felt so lost.
What if he’s the one who doesn’t want to contact me anymore? His thoughts tortured him. Maybe he decided I was enough trouble. Sieun had led a tranquil life before Suho’s sudden entrance, after all. But the thought felt wrong. His mind was telling him to leave things like that, but his heart knew Sieun wouldn’t abandon him this way. Sieun cared. He was a kind, warm and loving person. Even if Suho had been a bother…
He sighed, rubbing at his neck in annoyance. Suho decided to go back to Byeoksan and ask some students. At that hour, most of them would be leaving school and on their way to cram school. Arriving on time for the multitude to pass by, he noticed the staring and the whispers. Suho felt the slightest bit self conscious, well aware of his still weak and scrawny appearance, but he wasn’t there to look good.
“Hey, you.” Suho called a guy, recognizing him as one of his classmates. The boy had been already eyeing Suho along with two other friends who were walking next to him, and he jumped at being acknowledged. “Come here.”
Feeling just a little guilty at the boy’s panicked expression, Suho saw him walk towards him, his two other friends standing by curiously.
“Ahn Suho-ssi.” The guy mumbled, bowing. Suho bit his lip, trying to remember his name to no avail. “It’s good to see you’re well.”
Nodding, Suho smiled at his good manners. “Thank you.”
A beat passed in silence, with Suho simply staring at the crowd gathered behind the boy, and said boy looking around nervously, sweating. Suho cleared his throat, getting away from the wall he had been resting against and finally looking at the guy.
“So…”
“Choi Yisun.” The boy, Yisun, quickly introduced himself right on Suho’s cue. Suho nodded.
“Yisun-ssi, right. What have you heard of Yeon Sieun?” He went straight to the point, scratching the tip of his nose and going back to staring at the boy. He saw him gulp, looking around at his friends. “Mhm?” Suho insisted, prompting the boy to mumble for a second.
“I… W-well…” Yisun kept looking at his friends, as if looking for an escape route. That couldn’t happen. Suho took a step closer to him, ignoring the way the boy flinched, and surrounded his shoulder with his left arm.
“Let’s take a walk, Yisun-ssi.” Suho softly pushed him forward and the boy went along without struggling. He noticed even more people were staring at them, but Suho couldn’t care about that right now. “Don’t look so nervous, I promise I won’t hurt you.”
Yisun, against all common sense, seemed to take that at face value and his shoulders relaxed. Suho was aware that his classmates knew he was good at fighting, but he never hurt anyone who didn’t try to hurt him—or his sieun first. At least not publicly. It made sense that Yisun didn’t think of him as a rabid, senseless fighter. The trust felt good.
“You see, I can tell there is a reason Sieun isn’t enrolled at Byeoksan anymore.” Suho started, as they walked past the school gates at a leisurely pace. “The teachers won’t tell me anything about it, so I thought I should ask around, don’t you agree?”
Yisun nodded, understanding. He seemed a lot more calm now. Especially without the gawking crowd surrounding them.
“Something did happen… The day after—After the rumors about your absence.” The short boy admitted, looking uncomfortable about saying it out loud.
“What rumor? What happened?”
“I don’t remember exactly what people were saying that day. Something about you being hospitalized.” The boy shrugged, and Suho’s arm dropped, but they continued walking closely. “No one really understood at first.” Yisun explained, talking slowly, digging through his memories.
Suho gave him time to compose himself, hoping that he was telling the truth. He would probably still ask another couple of classmates before settling with a version of the facts anyways.
“People were already making up stories, saying it was because of a fight, just because.” Yisun shook his head and then started walking impossibly slower. Suho had to match his pace. “Until Yeon Sieun arrived at school.”
Then they were both standing still.
In the middle of a street adjacent to Byeoksan, away from the staring and whispering, Suho’s heart broke once again. He listened as Yisun relayed his version of the truth. Sieun almost killing Youngbin, hitting his face against the desk repeatedly and then stabbing him. About the apparent fight with Wooyoung that nobody saw, where Sieun broke the fighter’s ankle in so many small pieces that Wooyoung uploaded a video a few days later, saying he would never be able to fight again.
About the others. The fire extinguisher, hitting boys left and right. Sieun’s hand that had to still be broken at the time, for god’s sake.
Yisun told him about Sieun having Beomseok under him and not being able to hit him. About the teachers who tried to stop Sieun after his… His killing spree, and about the entire school seeing Sieun break two windows with his bare arm. About how hard he screamed, how he sobbed, and left. And didn’t come back.
“I honestly have no idea where he went, I’m sorry.” The boy apologized with a small bow, refusing to make eye contact with Suho. “I don’t think he was able to enter another school after that, Ahn Suho-ssi. I didn’t hear anything about him going to juvie, so maybe he struck a deal with the guys’ parents. But there’s no way they allowed him to continue studying after that.” Each word felt like a new knife stabbing Suho in the chest. “It’s hard to picture if you weren’t there, he was… It was brutal. I can’t imagine what would excuse that behavior.”
Me, he did it because of me. Suho couldn’t even try to say that out loud. Sieun probably didn’t go to jail because Beomseok’s dad needed his silence about his son almost killing Suho. Maybe Sieun had found some kind of proof… But still… After what he had done, there was no way for Sieun to lead the life he had always aimed for.
Suho knew that his hospital bill wasn’t being paid by his grandma, but she hadn’t told him the extent of her deal with Beomseok’s father. It was time to settle things.
The thought of going back to Byeoksan and having to hear the same story again made his stomach turn, made him want to run far away and never come back. But this was about his Sieun. He couldn’t be careless, he couldn’t get sloppy because of the pain. A pain he deserved, that he had inflicted upon himself and others, to... He sighed.
“Thank you, Yisun-ssi. Let’s go back to your friends,” He forced a laugh out. “The least we want is them thinking I kidnapped you, or something.”
—
The other students had told Suho the same thing, exaggerating here and there. But they’d all seemed to reach the same conclusion: There was simply no way for Yeon Sieun to study in a proper school after such public brutality. And wasn’t that the most painful thing Suho had heard since he woke up, three months ago?
He’d barely arrived at the empty alley across the school before the sadness settled and the anxiety started to rise up on his throat. Suho rested his entire weight against the wall, his body slowly falling to the ground until he was sitting uncomfortably against the pavement. He focused on breathing, consciously inhaling, holding it in for a couple seconds and exhaling slowly. The blood pounded in his ears, and he couldn’t stop his hands from shaking. His chest constricted painfully and he started looking at his surroundings with an overwhelming sense of panic. He couldn’t breathe.
Would he never see Sieun again? Did Sieun hate him? Had Sieun moved overseas or something? Why had Sieun hurt them so badly? Why had Sieun thrown his future away? Had Sieun… felt the same way as him?
“Stop crying, you’re so annoying.”
Suho hadn’t noticed the tears rolling down his face, but he immediately dried them with his windbreaker’s sleeve. It had been the voice of a kid, and Suho looked up in embarrassment. That’s when he realized the comment hadn’t been directed at him at all. Three kids were walking past the alleyway. The smallest boy was in the middle, it was the one crying quite loudly. The other two were each at his side, and seemed to be pushing him softly from one side to the other. None of them could be older than seven years old.
“This is why you have no friends, Wonhae-ah.”
Suho saw almost in slow motion how the small kid tripped with his own feet after one of the pushes, falling to his knees and crying louder. The two kids stopped next to him and exchanged a nervous look, not knowing what to do now.
“Hey… Are you okay?” One of them asked, crouching to his level to try and look at his face. The smaller boy, Wonhae, was sitting on the floor and crying, attracting many stares of bypassers who didn’t stop to help.
Suho took a deep, shaky inhale. He was standing up and walking the few steps needed to reach the scene before he knew what he was doing.
“Yah, what’s this?” Suho mumbled in a soft voice. Three pairs of eyes were on him immediately. Wonhae stopped sobbing for just a second before continuing with his crying. “Wonhae, right?”
The kid looked at him again, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, without answer.
“Are they bothering you?” Suho asked him, and the kid nodded, pout trembling. Suho looked at the other two kids with a disappointed face, and they looked back with guilty expressions. “Why are you treating him this way? He is crying, is that what you wanted?”
He tried to keep a soft but stern tone. They were too young to be behaving that way. He shook his head and offered his hand to the little Wonhae, who took his hand with caution and stood up. It didn’t seem like he was hurt, and his school uniform was just a bit dirty at the knees.
“Why are you bothering him, mhm?” Suho questioned, staring at the kids with a slight frown and a comic pout, to take the edge off the situation.
“Because… Because he’s small.” The kid on the right answered with sudden bravado, standing straight.
“So? Is that your reason?” Suho reprimanded him, shaking his head again. “If you were small, would you like it? What will you do if the other boys grow up faster than you?” At that, the kid avoided his gaze, looking at his own shoes in embarrassment.
“Because he is smaller, you should take care of him.” Suho said in a low tone, trying to convey the importance of his words with his eyes. He knew these were just kids, they probably didn’t care about the scolding of a stranger. They most likely wouldn’t listen to him. But maybe they would, and that was enough for Suho.
“We didn’t think it was too serious.” The boy on the left mumbled, looking like he was the one about to cry now. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me.” Suho told him, and observed as the two boys apologized and bowed to the smaller boy, who only nodded in silence. “You want to make your parents proud, right? This isn’t the way.”
“But older boys do it too.” One of them complained with a whine, immediately sending Suho a sheepish look.
“You don’t want to be like them. What’s your name?”
“Jang Sungkyu.” He answered politely.
“Do you like bullies, Sungkyu?” The kid shook his head vehemently. “You’re acting like one.”
“But we were just playing!” The other kid blurted, frowning.
“He was crying,” he moved his head towards Wonhae, who was staring at the unfolding situation with increasing attention. “That’s not a game. You can’t play unless everyone is having fun.”
“I’m sorry, Wonhae-ah.” Sungkyu apologized again, more heartfelt this time, bowing lower. Wonhae smiled, tears forgotten. “And Byungjoon-ah is sorry too, right?”
The other kid nodded enthusiastically, taking Wonhae’s hand in his. Something inside of Suho’s heart started warming up again. Something he thought lost after everything that had happened back at Byeoksan. Humans weren’t inherently evil. They imitate behavior and continue when they’re not told to do otherwise.
“Now, hyung will buy you ice cream if you promise to take care of each other, mhm?” Suho said, standing up at full height and stretching. The three kids cheered, already running ahead of him towards the convenience store on the same block. Suho smiled to himself.
—
“I’m so proud of you, my child.” His grandma told him, voice thick with love and respect, and Suho felt like every night studying and every week at cram school had been completely worth it.
He was graduating a year later than he should have, but he was there regardless. A perfect assistance, top three of his class. He had made it. His grandma pinched his cheek before letting him go, ushering him to take a few steps back before a flash of pictures dizzied him. He could hear all his classmates around him, cheering, chatting, taking group photos.
He smiled brightly towards the camera, allowing his grandma this beautiful memory. He hadn’t made any friends at his new school in Haeundae-gu. He was busy enough with his physical rehabilitation and studying, but he also simply didn’t feel like it. He knew the emptiness in his chest couldn’t be filled by anyone else.
“Darling, could you get me a bottle of water?” His grandma asked, snapping him back to the present moment, and Suho was almost immediately on his way to his school’s vending machine. There was a small line in front of it, groups of friends and family wanting a snack or some water before hitting a restaurant in celebration.
Suho took his wallet out, grabbing some cash and pausing for a moment. His left thumb caressed a picture, safely kept behind a transparent plastic holder made to showcase a photo. His Sieun was looking away from the camera, the ghost of a smile adorning his face, his Byeoksan uniform still on, a gray hoodie on top. Suho gulped. He saw that picture dozens of times every week, and it still took him a couple of seconds every time to compose himself.
He had graduated for Sieun, as much as for his grandma, or for himself, he could be honest about that.
Suho loved to entertain—to drown in thoughts about Sieun. About how proud he would be to find out about Suho’s achievements. How would he have rewarded Suho’s efforts? Suho sighed, taking a few steps forward as the line advanced. Sieun had known that Suho was smart, hardworking, and that he could fully dedicate himself to things. Suho never doubted that his friend knew. And yet, Suho’s heart still ached at the lack of chances they had back then to show appreciation to each other. To be honest about their feelings, about their love.
Clearing his throat, he put the wallet back in his pocket and bought his grandma’s bottle of water, bringing it to her. While she called a cab to pick them up and take them back to their house, Suho allowed himself one last look at his school. He had spent more time studying and learning here than back at Byeoksan, but he still didn’t feel any type of connection to this place or its people. He sighed softly again. He disliked feeling so disconnected to his surroundings, but it was so hard to let go of the past.
Sieun was like the sea, and Suho found himself stranded on a little island, right in the middle. He was alone, surrounded exclusively by Yeon Sieun’s immensity. The sea would sometimes bring memories to his shore. Suho, resting his head between his arms, staring at Sieun as he studied. He could still remember it so clearly, and he was grateful for it. His brain injury had taken away some of his last memories before the fight, but not Sieun’s. Never his.
He remembers feeling confused back then. Observing Sieun, his dearest friend, while he studied. The remaining sunlight rays shining softly over his pretty face. Sieun was so pretty. Long lashes, pouty lips, rounded cheeks. Just looking at him brought Suho a sense of peace. Almost a feeling of… Belonging. Suho didn’t understand how he could feel so much tenderness and adoration for him.
He had never liked anyone before, not really. Suho had gone out with some girls to have a meal, and had kissed two or three girls who were nice enough and had at least a bit of chemistry with him, but… It never felt like this. The need to be close to Sieun, to touch him, to always have Sieun’s eyes on him, always. It had never been like that before.
Please look at me, he remembers thinking, without reason, still laying down. I miss you and you’re next to me.
It was a difficult feeling to process, being only seventeen. Suho always thought these kinds of feelings were something you were supposed to get later in life. They were so… Final, so definitive. They didn’t feel superficial. They ran deep, deep, deep into Suho. Past his thoughts, past his subconscious, all the way to his core, to who he was as a person. As if his genetic code was being rewritten, because he was no longer just Ahn Suho. He was Yeon Sieun’s Ahn Suho.
The ache on his chest had faded a little with time, that much was true. The first year after losing Sieun, a simple memory had been enough to render him a mess. Tears would escape without his permission, falling one after the other. His throat would close painfully, and his body would move through life senselessly, mind far away. Suho found that, as time passed, those memories weren’t as painful anymore. Heaven had allowed him this small mercy; to be able to think back to his friend, and feel love, plain and simple.
Their memories together would always be slightly tainted by sadness, by nostalgia, by a yearning so desperate that it shaped him into a new man. But they were also warm, tender and special. His love for Sieun had also shaped him into a new person.
“My child…” His grandma called him softly, and when Suho looked back at her and their eyes met, Suho knew that she knew. No one could ever care about him as well as her, after all. Not even his parents. Maybe just Sieun. And wasn’t that the biggest proof of Sieun being family? “He would be very proud of you.”
His eyes stung with tears as he smiled at her, with a short nod. He knew that. He also knew that his grandma felt guilty, at least on some level, for his separation with Sieun. For not making sure she had a way to contact him besides his old, disconnected, useless phone number. Suho made sure to reassure her every time that it hadn’t been her fault. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault. And he tried his best to never let her know how deeply he felt Sieun’s absence in his life.
How long could he keep going like this? A zombie walking through life.
His purpose had been to graduate in a way that would make his grandma and Sieun proud, and he had only cared about that. Now his next goal was to start college and give it his best. He had been accepted to every college he had applied to; his grades spoke volumes, and the tragic, sob-worthy backstory about his brain injury had bagged everyone who was hesitant to accept him.
He never thought he would be interested in becoming a teacher, if he was quite honest. Back then, he saw himself as the owner of a small restaurant, maybe. Or simply doing jobs here and there to support his grandma and himself. The ideal situation would have gotten him doing sports professionally, but he never thought of himself as capable of that. He hadn’t really even considered going to college, back when he was studying at Byeoksan. The money was more important when they were in Seoul, and he had preferred the idea of getting full time jobs than studying something he didn’t really care about.
Teaching, though, was something he really cared about now. Something he felt passionate about. His small encounter with those little kids from his last visit to Byeoksan had ignited something inside him for good. The idea of being able to support every kid going through a rough time, and to make sure no one in his classes would ever cross the line, was fuel enough. And he really loved kids.
Suho had been focusing exclusively on his goal all through high school and he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep living like that. Trying to connect with people was scary as fuck, but living as a ghost, as just half of a person, was scarier. If Sieun couldn’t be by his side, Suho would live a life that would make Sieun proud.
He would be healthy, kind, brave and happy.
And he would always keep Yeon Sieun, his first love, close to his heart.