[Mini-series] Belonged : Epilogue
Epilogue;
Life had always been funny and unexpected. Sometimes, the things you never expected to do one day would suddenly become a thing of the past, and by the time you were reminded of how unacceptable or irrational that thing was for you, you would probably looking at it as you were flipping through the photo albums with your family.
Two years into the marriage, Lee Hyukjae figured that there was a possibility for him to start loving Lee Ae Ri more than just a wife. Five years into the marriage, Lee Hyukjae was convinced that he could love Lee Ae Ri as a lover. Six and a half years into the marriage, Lee Hyukjae said “I love you” to his wife for the first time on her birthday, and Lee Ae Ri broke down in joyful tears.
Just like what Lee Donghae told him a few years ago over the phone when he doubted his own decision of marrying Lee Ae Ri;
‘I’m sure that you’ll come to love her one day,’
Lee Hyukjae gave in to his heart and accepted his responsibility fate like a man.
For thirty-three years after that, Lee Hyukjae had a fulfilling marriage with Lee Ae Ri. They fought like how married couple would have fight, sulked, and reconciled when they’ve both cooled down. They joked like best friends; kissed and made love like lovers.
It was impossible to fall out of love with Lee Ae Ri once you’re in love with her; this was Hyukjae’s conclusion as they were walking arm in arm by the sea in Jeju on their 10th wedding anniversary, reminiscing their honeymoon that were done in haste back then, because Lee Ae Ri was still a resident doctor and Lee Hyukjae was still uncomfortable with his place as the head of the family’s business. Ae Ri was squatting down, picking up the pretty seashells and that was the first time Hyukjae realised (not that he didn’t know about it, though) that Lee Ae Ri had always been beautiful since the first day he met her.
(and wondered if she looked even more beautiful now that he was sincerely in love with her)
They were blessed with three wonderful children; two daughters and a son, and despite their busy lifestyle, they still took their time to make sure that their children had enough attention growing up. And seeing how well their kids turned out to be (a heart surgeon, a Pulitzer-winning journalist and a magistrate), maybe their parenting wasn’t so bad.
“I’m glad I found you, love,” Ae Ri told him sometimes, and Hyukjae smiled as he took Ae Ri’s hand into his own.
(but sometimes he was reminded of a pair of slightly bigger hands pulling him into a dance out of nowhere)
He would reply with a kiss on her forehead or just simply said;
“Me too.”
Lee Hyukjae was in love with his wife for thirty-three years, and he loved her until the day she let out her last breath inside his arms one Sunday morning. She was fifty-nine years old by then, and something had been wrong inside her lungs from three years earlier. Hyukjae was by her side since she handed in her resignation letter as the head surgeon at the hospital she was working, and he rearranged his schedule to make sure that he would be present in every medical appointment just to hold her hands.
Because bad news is never meant to be heard alone
The doctors predicted that she wouldn’t survive long. They gave her eight months, top. Hyukjae felt like he was going to slap the young doctor’s face for giving someone’s soul an expiry date just because he was smart enough to read the data printed out from computer’s calculation. But Ae Ri comforted him, saying that that’s all the doctors could do. She knew, because she did the same to other people too. All they could do was predict, read the data and wait.
“Most patients don’t get this, but they’re the ones who have the powers to change the data. We doctors are just following what their bodies want. We’re replying to their biological urges,” she told him with a smile on her face as they were sitting facing each other in the hospital’s café waiting for her fifth appointment with her doctor; her junior during university after the treatment began. Hyukjae scrunched his nose and grunted; he hated it when Ae Ri tried to calm him down when it was her who needed to be hugged.
“Stop talking like a doctor and be worried about yourself for once, dear. For god’s sake woman, you still have a husband, three overgrown monkeys as your kids with their kids to live for,” he replied, sipping his coffee and glared at his wife’s face at the same time. Ae Ri laughed, reached for his hand and nodded. The wrinkles at the end of her eyes made Hyukjae realised that time was working on different speeds for everyone, and perhaps Ae Ri’s was faster than him.
(also, it suddenly reminded him about someone that was off his mind for a long, long time)
“Okay, I’ll be honest with you. I’m scared. I’m scared that every night could turn into my last night listening to you snoring like a bear. I’m scared that I won’t get to see our son’s wedding. I’m scared that you’ll slowly forget about me after I’m gone, when it took me years just to make you really fall in love with me,” she told her with her calm voice, and Hyukjae thought about how some people were really amazing at controlling their emotions.
“I’m the type of guy who never backs out once I’m in. I’m a lover that doesn’t stop loving once I’ve told someone ‘I love you’, long after they’re gone,” he whispered, and it felt sad to think that lately, most of their conversations turned into deafening silences like this in the end.
“Let’s use the powers. Let’s prove that your fellow doctors are wrong. Eight months? Heh, you’re going to live until you’re eighty-six years old. We’ll live together to see our great great grandchildren having their own children.” He cheered her, confident as always. For the first time in years, the fear of losing someone he loved was creeping back into his spine.
“Let’s,” Ae Ri nodded.
-
So they outlived the given time, and since then Hyukjae suddenly felt as if another year wouldn’t be impossible. Another year, and without they even realising about it, they would reach the eighty-six years he promised Ae Ri.
(except they didn’t, and Ae Ri gave up the morning of their 33rd wedding anniversary)
Their children were home because it was the monthly family dinner, and Ae Ri could not be happier.
“Nothing has changed,” she told Min Jung, their first daughter (the surgeon) as she fixed her mother’s respiratory tube. Everything was the same, except they’re having the dinner inside her bedroom because she couldn’t be separated from her bed anymore. Their son, Chan Sook (the magistrate) was nodding when his second sister, Su Bin (the journalist) stole his meatballs as he turned around to ask Hyukjae for another serving. Maybe it was when she saw how Hyukjae was scolding them as if they were still the little kids they used to be that her tears trickled down her face. Min Jung saw it, and secretly wiped them away with her thumbs.
“We’ll be fine, Mom. We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about us, and get well soon,” she whispered as she kissed her mother’s forehead. She didn’t realise that Hyukjae was listening, so when the kids were in the kitchen doing the dishes (because they never hired a live-in maid except for the personal nurse for Ae Ri’s aid), he shut the door and climbed into the bed with her. Wrapping his arms around her fragile frame, Hyukjae took a sniff of her thinning hair; it still smelt good as it did when they were younger.
“I hate it when the kids are calmer than I am,” he sulked, and Ae Ri tried to laugh but failed. It turned into a dry cough and Hyukjae rubbed her chest to sooth it down.
“I was having a short-term crush on a fellow resident when I first met you,” Ae Ri suddenly told him after her cough subsided, and Hyukjae widened his eyes.
“Now, where did this come from?” he said, didn’t really like the words Ae Ri chose to start her conversation. Ae Ri chuckled softly as she turned to her right to see her husband’s face. Their eyes met instead.
“He was soft spoken and he really loved coffee. He was tall, tanned and wore glasses, and nurses were all over him whenever he walked into the café for lunch. I was looking at him from afar, too shy to speak to him. I thought I could never have a chance with him. But you know what he said the day I gave him the invitation?” Ae Ri asked him, and Hyukjae didn’t feel it was his job to nod, so he shook his head.
“ ‘I’m sorry but I don’t think I can go to a wedding that would break my heart,’ and his eyes were teary. The truth is, he was in love with me since the day we started our internship together, but he couldn’t mutter his courage to confess.”
“Well finder’s keeper’s. He’s too goddamn late.” Hyukjae said with a snort, and Ae Ri weakly rolled her eyes.
“What I’m trying to say is, even though he was just a crush, I can still remember his face till this day. So I wonder how vivid you are in Lee Donghae’s memory,” Ae Ri breathed out, and Hyukjae’s breath halted.
Lee Donghae. It had been a long time since someone said that name verbally in front of him. Hyukjae suddenly remembered his voice, his smile, the crinkles on his nose and the words he stuttered when he was too shy. Too often it felt like it was always at the end of his tongue, but when he tried to say it out loud, Ae Ri’s cheerful voice greeted him inside his head and their children’s homework were making him too worried to care.
“Why... how?” he asked her, not really knowing which one he should ask, though. Ae Ri smiled, and palmed his cheeks.
“Thirty-three years, and I can still see how broken you were when he handed you the ring. Thirty-three years and the sounds of you holding your tears inside Sungmin oppa’s arms are still ringing inside my ears. Thirty-three years, dear, and you’re having a panic attack after I said his name.” Ae Ri answered, and that was when Hyukjae realised that in thirty-three years, Ae Ri had learn about him more than what he had about her.
“It has been thirty-three years, Ae Ri. It doesn’t mean anything anymore. You’re imagining things.”
“Remember when you first told me that you love me?”
“Yeah.”
“I was getting ready to leave you then. I was scared that there’d never be a chance for me to have your heart. I could never compete with Donghae even if I wanted to. But you convinced me. Remember what you said?” she asked, testing him and Hyukjae pulled her into his arms tighter. Her skin felt colder.
“That I was sure I’m finally in love with you.”
“You’re finally in love with me. How can I walk away from that conviction?”
“Why are you bringing this up?” Hyukjae asked against her shoulder as he bent a little to kiss her neck. Really, Ae Ri was really cold.
“Because I’m a very cruel woman, Lee Hyukjae. I want not just you, but the person you’re going to love after me to remember who I was. And I had this strange premonition of seeing you standing in front of my altar with a man who was at our wedding years ago, apologising to me while holding hands.”
Hyukjae shook his head, pressing his tears in.
“No. That would never happen. I’m too old for all these shits.”
“I don’t think you’re right. After all, you’re the kind of lover who doesn’t stop loving once you’ve told someone ‘I love you,’ don’t you? I’m sure I’m not the first person you’ve said it to.”
“Yes, but you’re the last.” Hyukjae said bitterly. Ae Ri’s breathing was growing weaker, and he didn’t like the way the green line on the screen next to her bed was getting flatter at every minute interval.
“Ah, that’s good to hear,” she said, drawing a sharp breath. Hyukjae wanted to rush out to find their kids or at least grab the phone to call the doctor, but Ae Rig grabbed his wrist and told him to stay calm.
“At least, you’re now left with only one person to occupy your heart.”
Hyukjae kissed her cheek, and started to cry. If only loving someone doesn’t include separations like this.
“I love you, Lee Ae Ri. I really love you.”
“I know, and you’ve been the best choice I’ve ever made all my life. It’s been hard on you, love.”
Lee Ae Ri went unconscious five minutes before the doctor finally arrived. Hyukjae didn’t want to leave her alone, so his daughter had to pull him away for the doctor to do his job. An hour and a half later, he called them back into the room to tell them that it would probably be the time to say goodbye.
(again, Hyukjae hated it when they gave expiry time to a soul like that, but he was too distracted to be angry)
He climbed back into the bed with his wife after the kids kissed her one last time, and told everyone to leave them alone. Ae Ri’s heartbeat went slower, and her body went colder.
For once, Hyukjae wished he could return to the first time he realised he was in love with her.
Just once.
-
By the time Sungmin and Kyuhyun’s marriage was officially accepted in the South Korea’s family registry, they were no older than sixty-eight years old. Kyuhyun was hospitalised for the third time in that year for the after-effects of the casual drinking and smoking when he was younger, and Sungmin was the sweet old husband who kept bringing him a bouquet of roses every single day without fail.
Despite his blurry vision and less than satisfactory hearing, Sungmin swore on his life that Kyuhyun was jumping on his bed twice that day; once when the soap drama they were watching was interrupted by a special announcement in which where Kyuhyun’s name was mentioned as the pioneer of the movement that was finally passed as a bill after decades, and the second time when their lawyer came with a five-sheet document in his hands and a wide smile on his pretty face. Sungmin kissed the young lawyer’s cheeks as he received the papers inside his hands and he could hear a sincere congratulation whispered into his ear. There was also a hint of joyful tears in the young lawyer’s voice as he saw Kyuhyun pulled Sungmin’s free hand and kissed the now wrinkled skin with blue veins drawn visibly, saying ‘I love you’ a thousand times before the machine next to his bed beeping furiously, ordering him to calm down or the doctors will rush inside in no time.
“Now, can I read the love letter you wrote me?” he asked slowly while his doctor was fixing the green tube back across his face and into his nose (because he was not able to fight with the machine, apparently), making him grunted when his cheeks were touched. Sungmin laughed and thought about how Kyuhyun had really become a grumpy old man. His hand was still in his grip, and neither of them would want to be the first to let go.
“It’s not finished yet. You really want to read a love letter without the ending?” he asked, trying to deny Kyuhyun’s request. His thumb was softly rubbing the back of Kyuhyun’s hand, and as if on cue, his husband’s green line on the black monitor returned to normal. Kyuhyun chuckled, at least he tried, but his laughter turned into small coughs and Sungmin leant forward to rub his chest gently. Kyuhyun settled down into his pillow as he palmed Sungmin’s hand. Now that both of them were on his bony chest, Kyuhyun felt contented, as if it was a sign that Sungmin wasn’t going anywhere, not even while he was dreaming, so he shut his eyes and mumbled in his light sleep. Sungmin wasn’t sure what was he dreaming about, but he was sure his name was mentioned quite a few times to not to be curious about it.
Closing the distance between the chair he sat in and Kyuhyun’s electronic bed, he traced the outline of the sleeping old man’s face with his eyes, counting every strand of white hair left on his head and eyebrows, filling in each lines and wrinkles that were developed over the years; something that he wasn’t able to do when Kyuhyun was at his work desk, documenting and signing declarations of contracts between companies and for the movement they were fighting for since the night Kyuhyun put the ring on his finger.
The ring - Kyuhyun’s index finger was unconsciously rubbing the old ring with its tip. It was not as shiny as it used to be, having been washed and polished hundreds of times, but in Sungmin’s eyes, it was still one of the most beautiful things Kyuhyun had ever give him.
“I’m glad that I’m in love with you, Cho Kyuhyun,” Sungmin whispered as he brought Kyuhyun’s hand to his lips.
-
Kyuhyun died three weeks later.
Sungmin thought it was impossible and he did not expect it to happen; not anytime soon because only two days before that, Kyuhyun was finally taken off his life support and he was so happy that he told Sungmin to take him for a stroll around the ward. He could still remember seeing Kyuhyun’s wrinkled hands gripping the arm rest of the wheelchair tightly just to control his excitement.
(or maybe it was because Kyuhyun was hiding something else, Sungmin wasn’t really sure)
It was early autumn, and the trees in the hospital’s garden were turning orange as their leaves fell to the ground and covered the brick pavement with thick layers of dried, decomposing nature. Kyuhyun was begging the doctors to let him out for a walk around the garden since a week ago, and he was shot down every time he tried because ‘the weather is too cold for you’ and ‘you’re going to run away if we do!’
Sungmin tried to convince him to listen to the doctors at first, saying that it was for his own good and “I don’t want to lose you just because you’re being stubborn goddamn it!” but Kyuhyun retorted, saying;
“I’d rather die a free man than as a cooped up living corpse inside this fucking hospital,” and Sungmin was at loss with his words. In the end, Sungmin ended up convincing the doctors that Kyuhyun would be alright if there’s a doctor nearby to watch for him while they were outside.
(this was when he thought that his persuasion skill had really improved when you have a lawyer as your husband)
“It feels nice,” Kyuhyun whispered once the automatic door slide opened and the smell of autumn wafted through and into the air-conditioned space of the hospital’s lobby. Sungmin rolled his eyes as he pushed the wheelchair Kyuhyun was sitting on harder to pass the small drain before they reached the wheelchair lane to get down to the garden.
“I’m not going to say anything if the doctors hate you after today,” Sungmin warned him as he glanced to their left, and the young doctor who was chosen to accompany Kyuhyun today seemed nervous. Maybe it was because of the fact that Kyuhyun and Sungmin had been on the front page of several newspapers since the passing of the bill, or he was simply not comfortable seeing how a man could love another man so affectionately.
“Do you remember the day we went to sign our family registry? They said the only option we had was to adopt each other, and you were so mad you tore the form in front of everyone,” Sungmin reminisced after he parked Kyuhyun’ s wheelchair near a wooden bench in front of the fountain and they sat side by side. Kyuhyun hummed his low voice, and reached for Sungmin’s hand. Naturally, their fingers knitted and Sungmin really loved the way Kyuhyun would squeeze his palm.
“I was a madman in love, and they’re crazy if they thought a piece of paper could stop me from having what belongs to me,” he said laughingly, pulling Sungmin’s hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss on his wrinkled palm. There were a couple of teenage boys who were sitting near the fountain; one of them was a little dark with small nose and pretty smile, while the other was smaller and paler, and he looked as if he was someone who usually spoke through his eyes. Sungmin was scared to think they might be booed if they saw them. But to his surprise, the darker boy with the pretty smile suddenly clapped and nodded while pulling his friend’s hand who was reading a book next to him, asking him to look at Sungmin and Kyuhyun.
“Let’s be like that. Let’s grow old together like that, hyung,” Sungmin could hear him whispering, and by then a realisation hit him - Kyuhyun’s effort was too powerful that it gave hope to everyone to not to be afraid of loving whom they had choose to love.
“You’ve changed the world, Cho Kyuhyun. You did it,” he slowly whispered, not intending for it to be heard because Kyuhyun already seemed sleepy enough and it became a habit of him to tell him the important things he wanted to say but too shy to do so to Kyuhyun while he was asleep.
“We’ve changed the world, Vincent Cho. We did it. Not everyone is able to do so before they die, but we did. How powerful I am when I’m in love with you.” Kyuhyun replied to him, correcting his noun and Sungmin blinked thrice, a tad surprised.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“You should tell me everything while we still got the time, Sungmin-ah. There’s no use keeping them all to yourself.” Kyuhyun said, scrunching his nose, and Sungmin thought how amazing it was for him to feel that Kyuhyun was still adorable even when his complexion was at its worse and there were more bones to him that meat.
“Then should I read to you the love letter that I’m writing? I added some details in it last night,” Sungmin suggested, and Kyuhyun laughed.
“Are there complaints about me too in there?”
“Well, there’s a list of it.”
“Then I’ll read it by myself. I’m sure it’ll be too long and I’m too tired right now.” He told Sungmin, gesturing him to push him back into the ward and Sungmin nodded. He turned to find the young doctor, telling him that they’re going back inside, and he smiled as he joined them.
Kyuhyun didn’t get to read it.
When Sungmin returned to the ward that night after fetching his change of clothes, the young doctor who followed them earlier sat him down after Sungmin was forbidden to enter Kyuhyun’s room. He said words that were hard to understand, but Sungmin managed to get his point.
Kyuhyun was having another complication in his lungs, and he was put back on the life support. Only this time, he was unconscious and the doctors weren’t very sure if he’s going to open his eyes again.
“But he has to wake up. I just brought the letter I wrote him,” Sungmin said mindlessly, repeating the same words over and over again. The young doctor held his shoulder, trying his best to calm Sungmin down until Hyukjae arrived with his son a few minutes later. Chan Sook went to have a talk with the doctors about Kyuhyun’s current condition and Hyukjae was left with his brother who was drowning in his tears.
“Hyukjae-ah, what should I do? What should I do? He still needs to read this letter,” he said as he pulled out a blue envelope, rather thick and overstuffed than it should have. It was already opened at one end, and when Hyukjae took a peek inside, he could see some of the papers were old and yellow, indicating that Sungmin didn’t start writing it just a few days ago. Slowly, he took it away from Sungmin’s hand as his eyes were asking permission from his brother to read it. Sungmin nodded without thinking.
As soon as he pulled out the letter, a sea of numbers was spread in front of his eyes. The writings were different from the beginning to the end, but it was written by the same person.
“Dates?” he asked after he realised what the numbers meant. Sungmin nodded.
“And the times I saw him laugh every day, starting from the night he asked me to marry him,” Sungmin explained; his eyes were telling Hyukjae that he wasn’t exactly there. That he was somewhere back in time, waltzing in their house with Kyuhyun who was smiling happily at every word he said.
“Hyung... did you put in the date for today?”
Sungmin nodded. Hyukjae smiled and handed him back the letter.
“But you didn’t put in the number of his laughter, did you?”
Sungmin shook his head.
“I’m still waiting for him to wake up to finish it.”
“Then don’t. No matter what happen tonight, don’t finish it. Let it be unfinished. Not every love story should be concluded at the end of its page.”
So Sungmin didn’t.
And the letter was never finished.
Because who would want to end such a love story, anyways?
-
Kyuhyun was the first to go among them.
Siwon cancelled his important business meeting for the new hotel built in Istanbul as soon as he received the call from Ryeowook.
Jongwoon was giving a lecture at the local university’s veterinary when he read the text message and started crying. His students were at loss for a few minutes.
Ryeowook had to put the intern in charge for their pet clinic even though he had never trust that lad to take care of everything, and rushed to the hospital only to find Sungmin crying, almost half-insane inside Hyukjae’s arms.
His funeral was held exactly three days after Ae Ri’s sixth death anniversary. Hyukjae wanted to count, but it would only make him more miserable than he already was.
Flowers were filling up the hall during the three days of memorial. Some of the ministers who were supporting his movement and helped in the amendment of the bill personally came and kept on telling Sungmin to stay strong.
Sungmin didn’t eat for the whole first day.
He didn’t sleep on the second day, either.
On the third day, though, he started to think that he wanted to be together with Kyuhyun as soon as he could, so he cried again (he already held it in for the two days earlier) when the guests were all gone and Hyukjae, Siwon and Ryeowook were the only people left with him.
But as soon as he started to sniffle, the door of the hall banged opened, and a kid, around nine years old in black suit were catching his breath as he stood straight, watching inside.
(his messy hair reminded them of someone familiar, though)
“Is this... Cho Kyuhyun ahjussi’s memorial service?” he asked breathlessly, and everyone nodded. He then ran outside and came back again, this time holding an old man’s hand. He was wearing a black fedora and carrying a walking stick in the other hand, so everyone wasn’t able to see his face until he took off his hat.
Sungmin’s eyes widened. Ryeowook almost jumped out of surprise. Siwon smiled knowingly.
And Hyukjae, Hyukjae instantly saw a young man with an awkward smile (and a pair of hands slightly bigger than his pulling him out of nowhere into a dance).
“So, Vincent Cho, I hope you were really happy when you’re with him,” Donghae greeted, and Sungmin’s dam of tears exploded.
-
Hyukjae took a bottle of soju from the kitchen and brought it to where Donghae was sitting near Sungmin. His brother cried to his sleep after Donghae hugged him and offered him condolences, and it was the first time Sungmin slept ever soundly after Kyuhyun was gone.
“Here,” he offered him a cup, and Donghae took it while thanking him. His grandson, the kid from earlier was also asleep, resting his head on his grandpa’s lap. The others had already gone home, promising that they would come again tomorrow and Hyukjae couldn’t thank them enough.
The silence was deafening, but it was comfortable. Hyukjae took this chance to count the wrinkles on Donghae’s forehead and cheeks, and Donghae knew he would do that. Chuckling, he turned to his side to face him.
“Yes, I’m old, Lee Hyukjae.”
“We are all old, Donghae.” Hyukjae told him, as if reminding him that time didn’t stop for anyone. Donghae nodded and adjusted his legs a little bit for comfort, carefully to not waking up his grandson. Hyukjae noticed the walking stick that he laid down behind him.
“What’s with the stick?” he asked, and Donghae laughed.
“I fell off a cliff while climbing in Indonesia. My left thigh is now a metal bone,” he told him while patting his own thigh, and Hyukjae shook his head. He then gestured towards the sleeping grandson.
“How many kids?”
“Seven. But this is my first grandson.”
“Wow.” Hyukjae said, sincerely surprised. Donghae smiled and asked for another cup of soju.
“Nothing’s shocking when you’re married three times,” he casually told him, and Hyukjae almost spurted out his drink. Slapping his chest, he looked at Donghae with a disbelief expression on his face.
“Three?”
“Three, but in the end I’m still left alone with the kids. What about you? Still with Ae Ri?” Donghae asked him, and Hyukjae solemnly smiled. Donghae could see that from the wrinkles at the side of his lips.
“She’s gone. For six years now.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Hyukjae said, this time his smile lit up better than the previous one. Donghae liked this one better.
“I’ve got three wonderful kids, and just five months ago I became a grandpa too.” He said proudly. Donghae clapped in slow motion.
“Impressive. A grandson?” he asked, and Hyukjae nodded. They were back to the deafening but comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, and Donghae was about to ask him another question when his grandson squirmed and mumbled something gibberish, and they both laughed.
“He’s just like you,” Hyukjae suddenly told him, and Donghae made a wondering face. He looked at his grandson and he was pretty sure the sleeping did not inherit anything physical from him, except maybe for his height. He’s too small for a nine-year-old. Hyukjae laughed and shook his head.
“Not your grandson. Mine. He reminds me of you, so I named him Lee Donghae. Plus he’s currently obsessed with fish.” He told Donghae again, and Donghae burst out laughing. His grandson was jolted out of his sleep, but Donghae coaxed him back to his slumber.
“What’s his name, by the way?” Hyukjae asked when the kid was sound asleep. Sungmin was still asleep, too, and he didn’t think he would be bothered by their conversation. Donghae smiled at him and lightly chuckled.
“Lee Eunhyuk. And he dances really well, like you.” This time it was Hyukjae’s turn to laugh, and it felt inappropriate to be happy at a memorial, but they just did. When their laughter subsided, Hyukjae palmed the back of Donghae’s hand, and it felt as if the thirty-three years never happened.
(except it did, and he could feel how dry and coarse Donghae’s skin really was)
“Where have you been, Donghae? Why did you leave?” he asked, slowly and silently, as if the questions were always held inside his throat, waiting to flow out if he weren’t careful enough.
But now he didn’t have to, did he?
“Everywhere, Hyukjae. Everywhere, because I’ve lost my place here when I lost you,” he turned his palm upwards, catching Hyukjae’s fingers in between his. Hyukjae adjusted his seat so that he would be leaning against the same wall Donghae was leaning too. Closing his eyes, he breathed in, as if a heavy burden he was carrying on his shoulders had been lifted when their skins met, and unknowingly, Donghae was doing the same thing.
“Are you staying this time?” Hyukjae asked him, eyes still close and hands still entangled.
“Indefinitely.”
“So, let’s grab a drink sometimes.” Hyukjae suggested, and Donghae hummed an agreement.
“Only if it’s on you.”
-
All our lives, we’re searching for the right places. To fit in, to be loved, to be longed by another living person. Some people found their places earlier than others, and they took it for granted, thinking that it would belong to them until the end, that it could never be taken away. Some struggled hard enough to have the places they thought they deserved only to be disappointed to find that it wasn’t the place they’re looking for. Some let it to fate to decide whether they really belong in a place at all.
But the truth is, in the end, we will all find our places. Sometimes it’s in the place that was once belonged to someone else; sometimes it’s in the place where nobody had travelled before. Maybe it had always been in front of us, waving at us with its big signs, but we’ve always been distracted with other people’s places. After all, humans do have shorter attention span as we evolved.
So if you have found your place, congratulations. Now keep it. Take a good care of it, and never take it for granted.
And if you’re still searching for it, keep your eyes open. Maybe, just maybe you’re probably already in the right place all along.
Just right there, right where you belong.
-End-
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End note: Finally. Thank you to all readers! Instead of ending it with the typical happily ever after like most of my stories, I decided to write the ending for Belonged with the sense of familiarity, hope, the memories of what was once a great love and an eternal connection between two souls, regardless of who they were in the beginning.
So, who’s up for some special spin-offs?
P.S: Kidding. I'm not. You might find an update on the spinn-offs out of nowhere so stay with me.
Life had always been funny and unexpected. Sometimes, the things you never expected to do one day would suddenly become a thing of the past, and by the time you were reminded of how unacceptable or irrational that thing was for you, you would probably looking at it as you were flipping through the photo albums with your family.
Two years into the marriage, Lee Hyukjae figured that there was a possibility for him to start loving Lee Ae Ri more than just a wife. Five years into the marriage, Lee Hyukjae was convinced that he could love Lee Ae Ri as a lover. Six and a half years into the marriage, Lee Hyukjae said “I love you” to his wife for the first time on her birthday, and Lee Ae Ri broke down in joyful tears.
Just like what Lee Donghae told him a few years ago over the phone when he doubted his own decision of marrying Lee Ae Ri;
‘I’m sure that you’ll come to love her one day,’
Lee Hyukjae gave in to his heart and accepted his responsibility fate like a man.
For thirty-three years after that, Lee Hyukjae had a fulfilling marriage with Lee Ae Ri. They fought like how married couple would have fight, sulked, and reconciled when they’ve both cooled down. They joked like best friends; kissed and made love like lovers.
It was impossible to fall out of love with Lee Ae Ri once you’re in love with her; this was Hyukjae’s conclusion as they were walking arm in arm by the sea in Jeju on their 10th wedding anniversary, reminiscing their honeymoon that were done in haste back then, because Lee Ae Ri was still a resident doctor and Lee Hyukjae was still uncomfortable with his place as the head of the family’s business. Ae Ri was squatting down, picking up the pretty seashells and that was the first time Hyukjae realised (not that he didn’t know about it, though) that Lee Ae Ri had always been beautiful since the first day he met her.
(and wondered if she looked even more beautiful now that he was sincerely in love with her)
They were blessed with three wonderful children; two daughters and a son, and despite their busy lifestyle, they still took their time to make sure that their children had enough attention growing up. And seeing how well their kids turned out to be (a heart surgeon, a Pulitzer-winning journalist and a magistrate), maybe their parenting wasn’t so bad.
“I’m glad I found you, love,” Ae Ri told him sometimes, and Hyukjae smiled as he took Ae Ri’s hand into his own.
(but sometimes he was reminded of a pair of slightly bigger hands pulling him into a dance out of nowhere)
He would reply with a kiss on her forehead or just simply said;
“Me too.”
Lee Hyukjae was in love with his wife for thirty-three years, and he loved her until the day she let out her last breath inside his arms one Sunday morning. She was fifty-nine years old by then, and something had been wrong inside her lungs from three years earlier. Hyukjae was by her side since she handed in her resignation letter as the head surgeon at the hospital she was working, and he rearranged his schedule to make sure that he would be present in every medical appointment just to hold her hands.
Because bad news is never meant to be heard alone
The doctors predicted that she wouldn’t survive long. They gave her eight months, top. Hyukjae felt like he was going to slap the young doctor’s face for giving someone’s soul an expiry date just because he was smart enough to read the data printed out from computer’s calculation. But Ae Ri comforted him, saying that that’s all the doctors could do. She knew, because she did the same to other people too. All they could do was predict, read the data and wait.
“Most patients don’t get this, but they’re the ones who have the powers to change the data. We doctors are just following what their bodies want. We’re replying to their biological urges,” she told him with a smile on her face as they were sitting facing each other in the hospital’s café waiting for her fifth appointment with her doctor; her junior during university after the treatment began. Hyukjae scrunched his nose and grunted; he hated it when Ae Ri tried to calm him down when it was her who needed to be hugged.
“Stop talking like a doctor and be worried about yourself for once, dear. For god’s sake woman, you still have a husband, three overgrown monkeys as your kids with their kids to live for,” he replied, sipping his coffee and glared at his wife’s face at the same time. Ae Ri laughed, reached for his hand and nodded. The wrinkles at the end of her eyes made Hyukjae realised that time was working on different speeds for everyone, and perhaps Ae Ri’s was faster than him.
(also, it suddenly reminded him about someone that was off his mind for a long, long time)
“Okay, I’ll be honest with you. I’m scared. I’m scared that every night could turn into my last night listening to you snoring like a bear. I’m scared that I won’t get to see our son’s wedding. I’m scared that you’ll slowly forget about me after I’m gone, when it took me years just to make you really fall in love with me,” she told her with her calm voice, and Hyukjae thought about how some people were really amazing at controlling their emotions.
“I’m the type of guy who never backs out once I’m in. I’m a lover that doesn’t stop loving once I’ve told someone ‘I love you’, long after they’re gone,” he whispered, and it felt sad to think that lately, most of their conversations turned into deafening silences like this in the end.
“Let’s use the powers. Let’s prove that your fellow doctors are wrong. Eight months? Heh, you’re going to live until you’re eighty-six years old. We’ll live together to see our great great grandchildren having their own children.” He cheered her, confident as always. For the first time in years, the fear of losing someone he loved was creeping back into his spine.
“Let’s,” Ae Ri nodded.
-
So they outlived the given time, and since then Hyukjae suddenly felt as if another year wouldn’t be impossible. Another year, and without they even realising about it, they would reach the eighty-six years he promised Ae Ri.
(except they didn’t, and Ae Ri gave up the morning of their 33rd wedding anniversary)
Their children were home because it was the monthly family dinner, and Ae Ri could not be happier.
“Nothing has changed,” she told Min Jung, their first daughter (the surgeon) as she fixed her mother’s respiratory tube. Everything was the same, except they’re having the dinner inside her bedroom because she couldn’t be separated from her bed anymore. Their son, Chan Sook (the magistrate) was nodding when his second sister, Su Bin (the journalist) stole his meatballs as he turned around to ask Hyukjae for another serving. Maybe it was when she saw how Hyukjae was scolding them as if they were still the little kids they used to be that her tears trickled down her face. Min Jung saw it, and secretly wiped them away with her thumbs.
“We’ll be fine, Mom. We’ll be just fine. Don’t worry about us, and get well soon,” she whispered as she kissed her mother’s forehead. She didn’t realise that Hyukjae was listening, so when the kids were in the kitchen doing the dishes (because they never hired a live-in maid except for the personal nurse for Ae Ri’s aid), he shut the door and climbed into the bed with her. Wrapping his arms around her fragile frame, Hyukjae took a sniff of her thinning hair; it still smelt good as it did when they were younger.
“I hate it when the kids are calmer than I am,” he sulked, and Ae Ri tried to laugh but failed. It turned into a dry cough and Hyukjae rubbed her chest to sooth it down.
“I was having a short-term crush on a fellow resident when I first met you,” Ae Ri suddenly told him after her cough subsided, and Hyukjae widened his eyes.
“Now, where did this come from?” he said, didn’t really like the words Ae Ri chose to start her conversation. Ae Ri chuckled softly as she turned to her right to see her husband’s face. Their eyes met instead.
“He was soft spoken and he really loved coffee. He was tall, tanned and wore glasses, and nurses were all over him whenever he walked into the café for lunch. I was looking at him from afar, too shy to speak to him. I thought I could never have a chance with him. But you know what he said the day I gave him the invitation?” Ae Ri asked him, and Hyukjae didn’t feel it was his job to nod, so he shook his head.
“ ‘I’m sorry but I don’t think I can go to a wedding that would break my heart,’ and his eyes were teary. The truth is, he was in love with me since the day we started our internship together, but he couldn’t mutter his courage to confess.”
“Well finder’s keeper’s. He’s too goddamn late.” Hyukjae said with a snort, and Ae Ri weakly rolled her eyes.
“What I’m trying to say is, even though he was just a crush, I can still remember his face till this day. So I wonder how vivid you are in Lee Donghae’s memory,” Ae Ri breathed out, and Hyukjae’s breath halted.
Lee Donghae. It had been a long time since someone said that name verbally in front of him. Hyukjae suddenly remembered his voice, his smile, the crinkles on his nose and the words he stuttered when he was too shy. Too often it felt like it was always at the end of his tongue, but when he tried to say it out loud, Ae Ri’s cheerful voice greeted him inside his head and their children’s homework were making him too worried to care.
“Why... how?” he asked her, not really knowing which one he should ask, though. Ae Ri smiled, and palmed his cheeks.
“Thirty-three years, and I can still see how broken you were when he handed you the ring. Thirty-three years and the sounds of you holding your tears inside Sungmin oppa’s arms are still ringing inside my ears. Thirty-three years, dear, and you’re having a panic attack after I said his name.” Ae Ri answered, and that was when Hyukjae realised that in thirty-three years, Ae Ri had learn about him more than what he had about her.
“It has been thirty-three years, Ae Ri. It doesn’t mean anything anymore. You’re imagining things.”
“Remember when you first told me that you love me?”
“Yeah.”
“I was getting ready to leave you then. I was scared that there’d never be a chance for me to have your heart. I could never compete with Donghae even if I wanted to. But you convinced me. Remember what you said?” she asked, testing him and Hyukjae pulled her into his arms tighter. Her skin felt colder.
“That I was sure I’m finally in love with you.”
“You’re finally in love with me. How can I walk away from that conviction?”
“Why are you bringing this up?” Hyukjae asked against her shoulder as he bent a little to kiss her neck. Really, Ae Ri was really cold.
“Because I’m a very cruel woman, Lee Hyukjae. I want not just you, but the person you’re going to love after me to remember who I was. And I had this strange premonition of seeing you standing in front of my altar with a man who was at our wedding years ago, apologising to me while holding hands.”
Hyukjae shook his head, pressing his tears in.
“No. That would never happen. I’m too old for all these shits.”
“I don’t think you’re right. After all, you’re the kind of lover who doesn’t stop loving once you’ve told someone ‘I love you,’ don’t you? I’m sure I’m not the first person you’ve said it to.”
“Yes, but you’re the last.” Hyukjae said bitterly. Ae Ri’s breathing was growing weaker, and he didn’t like the way the green line on the screen next to her bed was getting flatter at every minute interval.
“Ah, that’s good to hear,” she said, drawing a sharp breath. Hyukjae wanted to rush out to find their kids or at least grab the phone to call the doctor, but Ae Rig grabbed his wrist and told him to stay calm.
“At least, you’re now left with only one person to occupy your heart.”
Hyukjae kissed her cheek, and started to cry. If only loving someone doesn’t include separations like this.
“I love you, Lee Ae Ri. I really love you.”
“I know, and you’ve been the best choice I’ve ever made all my life. It’s been hard on you, love.”
Lee Ae Ri went unconscious five minutes before the doctor finally arrived. Hyukjae didn’t want to leave her alone, so his daughter had to pull him away for the doctor to do his job. An hour and a half later, he called them back into the room to tell them that it would probably be the time to say goodbye.
(again, Hyukjae hated it when they gave expiry time to a soul like that, but he was too distracted to be angry)
He climbed back into the bed with his wife after the kids kissed her one last time, and told everyone to leave them alone. Ae Ri’s heartbeat went slower, and her body went colder.
For once, Hyukjae wished he could return to the first time he realised he was in love with her.
Just once.
-
By the time Sungmin and Kyuhyun’s marriage was officially accepted in the South Korea’s family registry, they were no older than sixty-eight years old. Kyuhyun was hospitalised for the third time in that year for the after-effects of the casual drinking and smoking when he was younger, and Sungmin was the sweet old husband who kept bringing him a bouquet of roses every single day without fail.
Despite his blurry vision and less than satisfactory hearing, Sungmin swore on his life that Kyuhyun was jumping on his bed twice that day; once when the soap drama they were watching was interrupted by a special announcement in which where Kyuhyun’s name was mentioned as the pioneer of the movement that was finally passed as a bill after decades, and the second time when their lawyer came with a five-sheet document in his hands and a wide smile on his pretty face. Sungmin kissed the young lawyer’s cheeks as he received the papers inside his hands and he could hear a sincere congratulation whispered into his ear. There was also a hint of joyful tears in the young lawyer’s voice as he saw Kyuhyun pulled Sungmin’s free hand and kissed the now wrinkled skin with blue veins drawn visibly, saying ‘I love you’ a thousand times before the machine next to his bed beeping furiously, ordering him to calm down or the doctors will rush inside in no time.
“Now, can I read the love letter you wrote me?” he asked slowly while his doctor was fixing the green tube back across his face and into his nose (because he was not able to fight with the machine, apparently), making him grunted when his cheeks were touched. Sungmin laughed and thought about how Kyuhyun had really become a grumpy old man. His hand was still in his grip, and neither of them would want to be the first to let go.
“It’s not finished yet. You really want to read a love letter without the ending?” he asked, trying to deny Kyuhyun’s request. His thumb was softly rubbing the back of Kyuhyun’s hand, and as if on cue, his husband’s green line on the black monitor returned to normal. Kyuhyun chuckled, at least he tried, but his laughter turned into small coughs and Sungmin leant forward to rub his chest gently. Kyuhyun settled down into his pillow as he palmed Sungmin’s hand. Now that both of them were on his bony chest, Kyuhyun felt contented, as if it was a sign that Sungmin wasn’t going anywhere, not even while he was dreaming, so he shut his eyes and mumbled in his light sleep. Sungmin wasn’t sure what was he dreaming about, but he was sure his name was mentioned quite a few times to not to be curious about it.
Closing the distance between the chair he sat in and Kyuhyun’s electronic bed, he traced the outline of the sleeping old man’s face with his eyes, counting every strand of white hair left on his head and eyebrows, filling in each lines and wrinkles that were developed over the years; something that he wasn’t able to do when Kyuhyun was at his work desk, documenting and signing declarations of contracts between companies and for the movement they were fighting for since the night Kyuhyun put the ring on his finger.
The ring - Kyuhyun’s index finger was unconsciously rubbing the old ring with its tip. It was not as shiny as it used to be, having been washed and polished hundreds of times, but in Sungmin’s eyes, it was still one of the most beautiful things Kyuhyun had ever give him.
“I’m glad that I’m in love with you, Cho Kyuhyun,” Sungmin whispered as he brought Kyuhyun’s hand to his lips.
-
Kyuhyun died three weeks later.
Sungmin thought it was impossible and he did not expect it to happen; not anytime soon because only two days before that, Kyuhyun was finally taken off his life support and he was so happy that he told Sungmin to take him for a stroll around the ward. He could still remember seeing Kyuhyun’s wrinkled hands gripping the arm rest of the wheelchair tightly just to control his excitement.
(or maybe it was because Kyuhyun was hiding something else, Sungmin wasn’t really sure)
It was early autumn, and the trees in the hospital’s garden were turning orange as their leaves fell to the ground and covered the brick pavement with thick layers of dried, decomposing nature. Kyuhyun was begging the doctors to let him out for a walk around the garden since a week ago, and he was shot down every time he tried because ‘the weather is too cold for you’ and ‘you’re going to run away if we do!’
Sungmin tried to convince him to listen to the doctors at first, saying that it was for his own good and “I don’t want to lose you just because you’re being stubborn goddamn it!” but Kyuhyun retorted, saying;
“I’d rather die a free man than as a cooped up living corpse inside this fucking hospital,” and Sungmin was at loss with his words. In the end, Sungmin ended up convincing the doctors that Kyuhyun would be alright if there’s a doctor nearby to watch for him while they were outside.
(this was when he thought that his persuasion skill had really improved when you have a lawyer as your husband)
“It feels nice,” Kyuhyun whispered once the automatic door slide opened and the smell of autumn wafted through and into the air-conditioned space of the hospital’s lobby. Sungmin rolled his eyes as he pushed the wheelchair Kyuhyun was sitting on harder to pass the small drain before they reached the wheelchair lane to get down to the garden.
“I’m not going to say anything if the doctors hate you after today,” Sungmin warned him as he glanced to their left, and the young doctor who was chosen to accompany Kyuhyun today seemed nervous. Maybe it was because of the fact that Kyuhyun and Sungmin had been on the front page of several newspapers since the passing of the bill, or he was simply not comfortable seeing how a man could love another man so affectionately.
“Do you remember the day we went to sign our family registry? They said the only option we had was to adopt each other, and you were so mad you tore the form in front of everyone,” Sungmin reminisced after he parked Kyuhyun’ s wheelchair near a wooden bench in front of the fountain and they sat side by side. Kyuhyun hummed his low voice, and reached for Sungmin’s hand. Naturally, their fingers knitted and Sungmin really loved the way Kyuhyun would squeeze his palm.
“I was a madman in love, and they’re crazy if they thought a piece of paper could stop me from having what belongs to me,” he said laughingly, pulling Sungmin’s hand to his lips and planted a soft kiss on his wrinkled palm. There were a couple of teenage boys who were sitting near the fountain; one of them was a little dark with small nose and pretty smile, while the other was smaller and paler, and he looked as if he was someone who usually spoke through his eyes. Sungmin was scared to think they might be booed if they saw them. But to his surprise, the darker boy with the pretty smile suddenly clapped and nodded while pulling his friend’s hand who was reading a book next to him, asking him to look at Sungmin and Kyuhyun.
“Let’s be like that. Let’s grow old together like that, hyung,” Sungmin could hear him whispering, and by then a realisation hit him - Kyuhyun’s effort was too powerful that it gave hope to everyone to not to be afraid of loving whom they had choose to love.
“You’ve changed the world, Cho Kyuhyun. You did it,” he slowly whispered, not intending for it to be heard because Kyuhyun already seemed sleepy enough and it became a habit of him to tell him the important things he wanted to say but too shy to do so to Kyuhyun while he was asleep.
“We’ve changed the world, Vincent Cho. We did it. Not everyone is able to do so before they die, but we did. How powerful I am when I’m in love with you.” Kyuhyun replied to him, correcting his noun and Sungmin blinked thrice, a tad surprised.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“You should tell me everything while we still got the time, Sungmin-ah. There’s no use keeping them all to yourself.” Kyuhyun said, scrunching his nose, and Sungmin thought how amazing it was for him to feel that Kyuhyun was still adorable even when his complexion was at its worse and there were more bones to him that meat.
“Then should I read to you the love letter that I’m writing? I added some details in it last night,” Sungmin suggested, and Kyuhyun laughed.
“Are there complaints about me too in there?”
“Well, there’s a list of it.”
“Then I’ll read it by myself. I’m sure it’ll be too long and I’m too tired right now.” He told Sungmin, gesturing him to push him back into the ward and Sungmin nodded. He turned to find the young doctor, telling him that they’re going back inside, and he smiled as he joined them.
Kyuhyun didn’t get to read it.
When Sungmin returned to the ward that night after fetching his change of clothes, the young doctor who followed them earlier sat him down after Sungmin was forbidden to enter Kyuhyun’s room. He said words that were hard to understand, but Sungmin managed to get his point.
Kyuhyun was having another complication in his lungs, and he was put back on the life support. Only this time, he was unconscious and the doctors weren’t very sure if he’s going to open his eyes again.
“But he has to wake up. I just brought the letter I wrote him,” Sungmin said mindlessly, repeating the same words over and over again. The young doctor held his shoulder, trying his best to calm Sungmin down until Hyukjae arrived with his son a few minutes later. Chan Sook went to have a talk with the doctors about Kyuhyun’s current condition and Hyukjae was left with his brother who was drowning in his tears.
“Hyukjae-ah, what should I do? What should I do? He still needs to read this letter,” he said as he pulled out a blue envelope, rather thick and overstuffed than it should have. It was already opened at one end, and when Hyukjae took a peek inside, he could see some of the papers were old and yellow, indicating that Sungmin didn’t start writing it just a few days ago. Slowly, he took it away from Sungmin’s hand as his eyes were asking permission from his brother to read it. Sungmin nodded without thinking.
As soon as he pulled out the letter, a sea of numbers was spread in front of his eyes. The writings were different from the beginning to the end, but it was written by the same person.
“Dates?” he asked after he realised what the numbers meant. Sungmin nodded.
“And the times I saw him laugh every day, starting from the night he asked me to marry him,” Sungmin explained; his eyes were telling Hyukjae that he wasn’t exactly there. That he was somewhere back in time, waltzing in their house with Kyuhyun who was smiling happily at every word he said.
“Hyung... did you put in the date for today?”
Sungmin nodded. Hyukjae smiled and handed him back the letter.
“But you didn’t put in the number of his laughter, did you?”
Sungmin shook his head.
“I’m still waiting for him to wake up to finish it.”
“Then don’t. No matter what happen tonight, don’t finish it. Let it be unfinished. Not every love story should be concluded at the end of its page.”
So Sungmin didn’t.
And the letter was never finished.
Because who would want to end such a love story, anyways?
-
Kyuhyun was the first to go among them.
Siwon cancelled his important business meeting for the new hotel built in Istanbul as soon as he received the call from Ryeowook.
Jongwoon was giving a lecture at the local university’s veterinary when he read the text message and started crying. His students were at loss for a few minutes.
Ryeowook had to put the intern in charge for their pet clinic even though he had never trust that lad to take care of everything, and rushed to the hospital only to find Sungmin crying, almost half-insane inside Hyukjae’s arms.
His funeral was held exactly three days after Ae Ri’s sixth death anniversary. Hyukjae wanted to count, but it would only make him more miserable than he already was.
Flowers were filling up the hall during the three days of memorial. Some of the ministers who were supporting his movement and helped in the amendment of the bill personally came and kept on telling Sungmin to stay strong.
Sungmin didn’t eat for the whole first day.
He didn’t sleep on the second day, either.
On the third day, though, he started to think that he wanted to be together with Kyuhyun as soon as he could, so he cried again (he already held it in for the two days earlier) when the guests were all gone and Hyukjae, Siwon and Ryeowook were the only people left with him.
But as soon as he started to sniffle, the door of the hall banged opened, and a kid, around nine years old in black suit were catching his breath as he stood straight, watching inside.
(his messy hair reminded them of someone familiar, though)
“Is this... Cho Kyuhyun ahjussi’s memorial service?” he asked breathlessly, and everyone nodded. He then ran outside and came back again, this time holding an old man’s hand. He was wearing a black fedora and carrying a walking stick in the other hand, so everyone wasn’t able to see his face until he took off his hat.
Sungmin’s eyes widened. Ryeowook almost jumped out of surprise. Siwon smiled knowingly.
And Hyukjae, Hyukjae instantly saw a young man with an awkward smile (and a pair of hands slightly bigger than his pulling him out of nowhere into a dance).
“So, Vincent Cho, I hope you were really happy when you’re with him,” Donghae greeted, and Sungmin’s dam of tears exploded.
-
Hyukjae took a bottle of soju from the kitchen and brought it to where Donghae was sitting near Sungmin. His brother cried to his sleep after Donghae hugged him and offered him condolences, and it was the first time Sungmin slept ever soundly after Kyuhyun was gone.
“Here,” he offered him a cup, and Donghae took it while thanking him. His grandson, the kid from earlier was also asleep, resting his head on his grandpa’s lap. The others had already gone home, promising that they would come again tomorrow and Hyukjae couldn’t thank them enough.
The silence was deafening, but it was comfortable. Hyukjae took this chance to count the wrinkles on Donghae’s forehead and cheeks, and Donghae knew he would do that. Chuckling, he turned to his side to face him.
“Yes, I’m old, Lee Hyukjae.”
“We are all old, Donghae.” Hyukjae told him, as if reminding him that time didn’t stop for anyone. Donghae nodded and adjusted his legs a little bit for comfort, carefully to not waking up his grandson. Hyukjae noticed the walking stick that he laid down behind him.
“What’s with the stick?” he asked, and Donghae laughed.
“I fell off a cliff while climbing in Indonesia. My left thigh is now a metal bone,” he told him while patting his own thigh, and Hyukjae shook his head. He then gestured towards the sleeping grandson.
“How many kids?”
“Seven. But this is my first grandson.”
“Wow.” Hyukjae said, sincerely surprised. Donghae smiled and asked for another cup of soju.
“Nothing’s shocking when you’re married three times,” he casually told him, and Hyukjae almost spurted out his drink. Slapping his chest, he looked at Donghae with a disbelief expression on his face.
“Three?”
“Three, but in the end I’m still left alone with the kids. What about you? Still with Ae Ri?” Donghae asked him, and Hyukjae solemnly smiled. Donghae could see that from the wrinkles at the side of his lips.
“She’s gone. For six years now.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Hyukjae said, this time his smile lit up better than the previous one. Donghae liked this one better.
“I’ve got three wonderful kids, and just five months ago I became a grandpa too.” He said proudly. Donghae clapped in slow motion.
“Impressive. A grandson?” he asked, and Hyukjae nodded. They were back to the deafening but comfortable silence for a few minutes after that, and Donghae was about to ask him another question when his grandson squirmed and mumbled something gibberish, and they both laughed.
“He’s just like you,” Hyukjae suddenly told him, and Donghae made a wondering face. He looked at his grandson and he was pretty sure the sleeping did not inherit anything physical from him, except maybe for his height. He’s too small for a nine-year-old. Hyukjae laughed and shook his head.
“Not your grandson. Mine. He reminds me of you, so I named him Lee Donghae. Plus he’s currently obsessed with fish.” He told Donghae again, and Donghae burst out laughing. His grandson was jolted out of his sleep, but Donghae coaxed him back to his slumber.
“What’s his name, by the way?” Hyukjae asked when the kid was sound asleep. Sungmin was still asleep, too, and he didn’t think he would be bothered by their conversation. Donghae smiled at him and lightly chuckled.
“Lee Eunhyuk. And he dances really well, like you.” This time it was Hyukjae’s turn to laugh, and it felt inappropriate to be happy at a memorial, but they just did. When their laughter subsided, Hyukjae palmed the back of Donghae’s hand, and it felt as if the thirty-three years never happened.
(except it did, and he could feel how dry and coarse Donghae’s skin really was)
“Where have you been, Donghae? Why did you leave?” he asked, slowly and silently, as if the questions were always held inside his throat, waiting to flow out if he weren’t careful enough.
But now he didn’t have to, did he?
“Everywhere, Hyukjae. Everywhere, because I’ve lost my place here when I lost you,” he turned his palm upwards, catching Hyukjae’s fingers in between his. Hyukjae adjusted his seat so that he would be leaning against the same wall Donghae was leaning too. Closing his eyes, he breathed in, as if a heavy burden he was carrying on his shoulders had been lifted when their skins met, and unknowingly, Donghae was doing the same thing.
“Are you staying this time?” Hyukjae asked him, eyes still close and hands still entangled.
“Indefinitely.”
“So, let’s grab a drink sometimes.” Hyukjae suggested, and Donghae hummed an agreement.
“Only if it’s on you.”
-
All our lives, we’re searching for the right places. To fit in, to be loved, to be longed by another living person. Some people found their places earlier than others, and they took it for granted, thinking that it would belong to them until the end, that it could never be taken away. Some struggled hard enough to have the places they thought they deserved only to be disappointed to find that it wasn’t the place they’re looking for. Some let it to fate to decide whether they really belong in a place at all.
But the truth is, in the end, we will all find our places. Sometimes it’s in the place that was once belonged to someone else; sometimes it’s in the place where nobody had travelled before. Maybe it had always been in front of us, waving at us with its big signs, but we’ve always been distracted with other people’s places. After all, humans do have shorter attention span as we evolved.
So if you have found your place, congratulations. Now keep it. Take a good care of it, and never take it for granted.
And if you’re still searching for it, keep your eyes open. Maybe, just maybe you’re probably already in the right place all along.
Just right there, right where you belong.
-End-
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End note: Finally. Thank you to all readers! Instead of ending it with the typical happily ever after like most of my stories, I decided to write the ending for Belonged with the sense of familiarity, hope, the memories of what was once a great love and an eternal connection between two souls, regardless of who they were in the beginning.
So, who’s up for some special spin-offs?
P.S: Kidding. I'm not. You might find an update on the spinn-offs out of nowhere so stay with me.