#142: A Soul To Cling To
Title: A soul to cling to
Pairing(s): Kai/Chanyeol, Past!Kai/Taemin
Rating: PG-13
Length: 9K
Warning(s): [Please click to open.]car accident, mentions of blood.
Summary: “How we need another soul to cling to.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath.
Jongin clinged onto Chanyeol, who had been in a coma for the last three years, by watching old videos.
Author's Note: There are fragments in italics that might seem a little confusing at first, but I hope you can understand them. Thanks a lot to my betas, C, M and R (you’re the MVP). And the mods for having worked so hard these past months.
Dusting off an old shoe box, Jongin chuckled at Chanyeol’s scrawl. The words on the box were probably written in a hurry, or while he was talking. Sometimes Chanyeol would get so excited when talking that he would forget he’s multi-tasking and mess up whatever he was doing. Jongin traced the letters on the box and he could see Chanyeol’s smile. His friend was a presence in every corner of the house. He was the reason the house used to be alive whenever Jongin visited. But now, the spirit was gone. There was no light; it was all dust and darkness.
It had been three years since their accident. More than enough time for Jongin’s second home to turn into a fragile shell that protected Jongin’s memories. It was enough for Jongin’s heart to lose a piece of itself and become incomplete. More than enough time to make Jongin realize that he didn't want to be without that piece.
Jongin’s cheek. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Filming you.’ Jongin’s face. ‘That’s what we have phones for, hyung.’ Chanyeol’s laugh. The sky. ‘Tell me. What are we doing here?’ Close-up on Jongin’s eyes. ‘Why me, hyung?’ Silence. Jongin’s confused smile. ’Just talk, Jonginnie.’ Jongin sighing. ‘We came here to camp.’ Trees. Ground. River. Blur. A tent. ‘Why?’ ’Hyung! You know why!’ Jongin’s face. ’Our viewers don’t!’ ‘You’re not posting this online!’ A hand. Darkness. ‘Stop, Jongin! That tickles!’ The ground. Chanyeol’s pout. ‘Tell me, hyung. What are we doing here?’ Chanyeol’s smile. Brightness. Light. Chanyeol.
Chanyeol was brightness, light, energy, anything Jongin needed him to be. Without any of that, Jongin felt empty. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t find it anywhere else. And now, Jongin’s light rested in a hospital bed and Jongin waited for him to wake up. There were very few tears left in Jongin’s eyes. Most of them were shed by Chanyeol’s side. At those moments, Jongin hoped that Chanyeol would hear him, open his eyes and tell him not to cry.
Fire. ‘I am the Fire God!’ ‘Shut up, hyung.’ Jongin’s face.
Jongin left the box on the floor and walked to the living room. There was little light, so he opened the window to let the sun in. Particles of dust flew around the room and, when he uncovered the TV and the sofa, more lifted up into the air. On the sofa, the dent on Chanyeol’s side was visible, next to Jongin’s. There wasn’t much point in keeping the house and Jongin asked himself why shouldn’t they sell it- Chanyeol’s family could use the money. But looking at the twin dents on the cushion reminded Jongin why they couldn’t sell that home.
One of the videos taken out from the box was pressed into the VHS player- Jongin used to complain about Chanyeol’s fascination with old technology and his friend would laugh at him. The name on the tape said ‘Campfire’.
The day was nice, not too cold, not too warm. Chanyeol’s hoodie looked bigger on Jongin, swallowing him. Yura had suggested he take a few of Chanyeol’s clothes with him; the idea of his clothing hidden from the light and being eaten by moths was enough to make Jongin accept. He picked out his favorites hoodies and coats, the ones Chanyeol would wear often when they spent time together. It felt weird to look down and see Chanyeol’s clothes, but it was also a comfort.
The steps Jongin was taking were familiar; he had walked that path many times, three times a week, if he could. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, he would walk out of Jamsil-naru Station and head to Asan Medical Center. He would cross the main entrance and walk to the Neurology Center building. He already knew and greeted most of the women behind the main desk; he had seen some of them come and go since he started visiting the Center.
Jongin announced himself at the desk and Sunyoung smiled kindly at him. She was one of the most attentive employees Jongin had met.
“Do you want me to call Dr. Kim today, Jongin-ssi?” She suggested.
“There’s no need. Thank you,” He replied with a smile of his own, noticing by Sunyoung’s side the other girl behind the desk staring at him.
Sunyoung nodded and extended the folder over the desk, for Jongin to sign under the list of other visitors. When Jongin was done, she gestured at the elevator. He greeted both of the women and walked away. There weren’t people waiting, but when the elevator opened, there were two doctors coming up from the lower level. One of them was Dr. Kim.
“Oh! Kim Jongin-ssi! Nice to see you.” Dr. Kim was always polite and cheerful, if the situation allowed it. He hadn’t been cheerful when he had told Chanyeol’s family and Jongin that all they could do was wait.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Kim.”
The man next to the doctor smiled curiously at them. “Kim Jongin-ssi, this is Dr. Do Kyungsoo,” Kim Junmyeon introduced the short man who had a stern look on his face. “What did you bring today?” He then asked, nodding at Jongin’s messenger bag.
Jongin tapped the bag and told him, “Haruki Murakami.”
“Oh! Nice,” Dr. Kim said.
“Excuse me, what for?” Dr. Do’s voice sounded deep and pleasant to the ears. He actually was just as polite and gentle as Dr. Kim.
“Kim Jongin-ssi comes to read to one of our patients.” The expression on Dr. Do’s face was very telling. Most of the patients on the second floor were in a similar situation to Chanyeol, unconscious in bed. But the doctors allowed visitors to talk to them and interact in any way possible. They would even test how their brains reacted to certain people’s voices or touches. Jongin had yet to participate in one of those tests.
The door of the elevator dinged and Jongin stepped out with the two doctors. He was about to bid them goodbye, when Dr. Kim gestured at his friend to go and turned back to Jongin.
“Come with me, Jongin-ssi,” he said, placing a hand on Jongin’s shoulder.
The nurses at the desk of the floor all greeted him with familiarity. He was used to all of this, to Dr. Kim, to the nurses, to the women in the lobby of the center, to the walk from the subway station to the hospital.
“Chanyeol is stable, as always.” Dr. Kim had the doctor’s voice, the one that explained everything carefully. “I forgot you were coming here today, but since we ran into each other, I was thinking we could run the tests with you.”
Jongin was speechless for a moment. He didn’t know if he wanted to do it. The image of Chanyeol with all the sensors on his head measuring his brain activity as he laid in bed was already hard enough. He didn’t know how the tests would look.
“What do you think?” Dr. Kim asked.
“Okay.” Jongin nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do it.” He couldn’t be selfish, denying something that could help Chanyeol just because he didn’t want to look at him.
“Good.” Dr. Kim clapped once, smiling at Jongin.
The room where the tests were done was wide with a big rectangular white machine against one wall, with a circle in the middle and a table. Dr. Kim explained it was called PET and served to study brain functions. The machine detected the gamma rays a tracer inserted in the blood flow and translated them into a computer. It was a way of making a brain map. The way Dr. Kim explained it was very simple and easy to understand. It was supposed to make Jongin comfortable with the test. But when he saw Chanyeol on a stretcher being pushed across the room and a pair of male nurses taking care of placing him on the table of the machine, he felt uneasy.
“Okay. Come with me Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim gestured to the computer and other machines in the room. “And do as you always do.”
Jongin nodded nervously, his eyes not leaving unconscious Chanyeol. Then, he followed the doctor. There were a few chairs, one of them occupied by the man who worked the machine. Jongin greeted him with a bow before turning to look at Chanyeol. The machine activated at that moment and Jongin saw how the table moved. The tube swallowed Chanyeol’s body until only his lower half was visible.
Jongin said nothing. There was something so mechanical about the whole situation for the other men in the room, unattached to the patient. Meanwhile, for Jongin, the guy on the table was the one who brought light into his life. Jongin saw the white, well lighted room but felt like it was no match to what Chanyeol used to be.
“Whenever you want, Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim interrupted his thoughts smiling and placing a microphone in front of Jongin. “So that he can hear you inside the PET,” he explained.
He looked down at it, feeling awkward. He breathed in and pulled out his book. He opened the book in the page where he had left of. The first few words were stuttered and sounded weird coming out of his mouth. He couldn’t even focus on the pages, when from the corner of his eye, he could see the screen with Chanyeol’s brain activity. There wasn’t much going on, only the normal functions that kept the body alive.
“Come on, Jongin-ssi,” Dr. Kim told him.
After stopping and taking another deep breath, Jongin started again and this time the words flowed more easily. It still was hard to do it, being observed by the other men and being so far from Chanyeol. The comfort of reading by Chanyeol’s bed in private was the main reason he started doing it. He kept going, though.
“Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?” Jongin read. He wasn’t a fan of Murakami, but he could guess Chanyeol’s likes after having been friends for so long. Yura had been the one that recommended Sputnik Sweetheart.
Once he got to the part he was planning on stopping at, he kept quiet, waiting for Dr. Kim’s words. He turned to look at him and found him focused on the screen. He was a kind man, Chanyeol probably would have gotten along with him.
“There’s not much,” Dr. Kim commented. “Yet, he enjoys either your reading or your voice,” he explained, with a light assuring smile.
Jongin felt warmth on his face and wondered what the doctor was insinuating.
“You should keep doing it,” Dr. Kim continued. “See these red spots?” He indicated with his hands the red color on Chanyeol’s brain map. “These are the zones that work for speech comprehension.” His index finger stopped at an specific part. “This zone is not active. This is the speech production zone. He might understand you, but he can’t reply.”
It had always been him, Jongin, who didn’t reply. The one that talked Jongin’s ears off the most was Chanyeol. A social butterfly that couldn’t speak, that couldn’t react; it didn’t sound like Chanyeol. On the machine, only Chanyeol’s motionless lower half was visible.
“We try this with other patients, too.” Dr. Kim kept explaining. “We’ve seen some interesting results. But every reaction is relative to the patient. We’ve had people singing. Do you sing, Jongin-ssi?”
Jongin shook his head. “No. I’m more of a dancer…” He was about to explain that the singer between the two of them was Chanyeol, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Dark. A TV screen. Tapping. Music. Yellow letters. Jongin in front of the TV. ‘Come on, Jonginnie! You can do it!’. Jongin’s back. Words on the screen. Jongin’s shaky voice. Jongin singing. Chanyeol’s laughter. Jongin’s glare. ‘Sorry, sorry’. Jongin singing. ‘Louder!’. ‘I can’t.’ ‘Want me to sing with you?’ Jongin nodding. ‘Another song.’ Chanyeol’s hands. Tapping. Chanyeol’s pursed lips. Music. The screen. ‘Come on.’ Chanyeol’s yell. ‘LOUDER!’ Music. Chanyeol’s rapping. The mic. The floor. Jongin’s voice. The floor. Jongin’s feet. Jongin jumping. The ceiling. Neon pink. Green. Chanyeol’s face. A hand. ‘Sorry.’
The sizzling noise of the grill plus the ambience of the restaurant, the people talking around them and Baekhyun’s voice above them all; it all added to Jongin’s own silence. Baekhyun was telling him about his job and other things that Jongin should have been paying attention to. He couldn’t. In the middle of that place, Jongin felt alone.
Jongin remembered one time Chanyeol and he had talked about one of Chanyeol’s favorite stories, The Little Prince. The little prince had asked where the people were, saying it was a little lonely in the desert. The snake had replied, “It is lonely when you’re among people, too.” That was exactly what Jongin was feeling at the moment.
“Am I boring you?” Baekhyun called his attention. He looked worried. Before Jongin could reply, he asked, “Did you go to see him today?”
Jongin sighed. “Yeah, I did.” He picked up a piece of gopchang before it would burn. When Baekhyun passed him the ssamjang sauce, Jongin saw that Baekhyun’s glass was empty and quickly picked up the bottle of soju.
“How is he?” Baekhyun asked after thanking Jongin for filling his shot glass.
Jongin lifted up his own glass and they clanked them before chugging the alcohol down their throats. The soju passed down, burning his insides. Jongin wasn’t a fan of alcohol; he only started drinking at Chanyeol’s insistence.
“Like always,” he answers. “No changes.” He filled their glasses again as Baekhyun took care of the grill. “We tested something today. You know that I usually read to him, right?” Baekhyun nodded. “Well, I read while a machine read his head. It was weird.”
“And?”
“He liked it.” He felt himself flush at the memory of Dr. Kim’s comment. He put some food inside his mouth to have an excuse to not say anything else.
But Baekhyun was sharp and got it instantly. “That’s nice. Of course he’d like it.” He gave Jongin a knowing look. As Jongin wasn’t replying, he continued. “You’re very important to him.”
“He is- was- is very important to me too,” he murmured quietly.
Baekhyun caught it. “Jongin, I know you miss him.” His friend’s bright eyes looked sympathetic when Jongin lifted his head from the grill. “We all miss him.”
“I- I know how to live without him.” Jongin’s walls shook. “It’s easy. You breathe, walk, work, dance, you do everything.” The first bricks fell down. “But he’s still missing. And I’m so used to him, to his company.”
“It’s been a few years, Jongin,” said Baekhyun’s soft voice.
“I know. That’s why I can’t cry anymore.” Jongin sighed.
Jongin had shed many tears already.
After Jongin had crawled out of the upside down car, he was met with the image of his best friend on the ground. His head was dizzy from the fast, unexpected movement of the car. There was little of the accident he could recall. The worst image Jongin kept from it was Chanyeol laying down, spread limbs, torn jacket and blood around his head. His first thought had been dead, until paramedics came and started shouting directions to people. Jongin remembered the police siren, the sound of the ambulance, a crowd around. But Chanyeol, motionless Chanyeol was the only thing that felt real at the moment.
He was put inside the ambulance next to Chanyeol’s body on the stretcher. He was asked questions he didn’t know the answer to. All he could focus on was Chanyeol. He saw the matted hair, dirty with blood, bruises on Chanyeol’s cheeks, more dried blood on his neck. The cellphone was nowhere to be seen.
He’s alive, said the paramedic when Jongin took Chanyeol’s hand in his.
He didn't cry then.
After he was treated for his injuries, bruises on his ribs caused by the seat belt, he waited in the hall for hours until the doctor told them Chanyeol wasn’t waking up. Chanyeol’s mother collapsed. Her husband kneeled by her side to hold her. Yura was the one who looked at Jongin and embraced him. With his head on Yura’s shoulder, he finally let the tears fall, wetting her clothes, matching the wet spot Yura was leaving on his own shoulder. The grip of her hands on his back that were pulling him closer was the only thing that stopped him from shaking.
When Chanyeol was moved to the Neurology Center, his room became the most visited place by Jongin. And his last tears were shed there by his bed until he couldn’t do it anymore.
“How’s Taemin?” Baekhyun asked, cutting through Jongin’s memories.
“He… I guess he’s fine.” Jongin didn’t lift his eyes from the now empty grill.
“You guess?” Baekhyun’s inquisitive tone was probably softer than his eyes.
Jongin dared to look up and meet Baekhyun’s eyes. Actually, the look he was giving him was soft, as if he didn’t need an explanation.
“We’re not together anymore…” Jongin explained nonetheless. Baekhyun’s reply was merely a hum and it made Jongin tell him more. “I don’t… I didn’t feel much for him. And he…” Jongin exhaled loudly. “He was…”
“Not Chanyeol.” The certainty of Baekhyun’s words made Jongin drop his chopsticks. “No one will ever be Chanyeol, Jongin.”
“How?”
Baekhyun smiled in sympathy. “We all know it.”
Jongin hadn’t even admitted it to himself; he was still trying to understand what it was. He knew what Chanyeol was to him. He was Jongin’s reason to laugh and smile. He took Jongin’s weight off his shoulders with a simple joke or a deep conversation. He was everywhere; he had creeped into Jongin’s life, not giving him time to stop him. Before he knew it, Chanyeol was the wind that blew away the dark clouds every time Jongin needed it. And when the clouds came from an argument with Chanyeol, they were weak, meaningless.
In turn, Jongin was company for Chanyeol. Whenever he wanted some alone time, it included him. When he composed new songs, Jongin was the first one to listen to them. He was the voice Chanyeol wanted to hear at night when he called at 3 a.m. He didn’t need to search far and wide for him, because Jongin was always there.
In their own ways, they had become part of each other’s worlds; so deeply ingrained that not having Chanyeol with him weakened Jongin every day a little more. He kept clinging onto the memories of the liveliness that Chanyeol had had, that he had transmitted through words and smiles, hoping that one day he would wake up and grin. Because the darkest cloud above Jongin now was to wait for Chanyeol.
“Is it love?” Jongin murmured absentmindedly.
“It probably is, but it’s not up to me to tell you,” Baekhyun explained. His friend looked at him with pity in his eyes; Jongin understood why.
In the silence of the ward, Jongin sat next to Chanyeol’s bed as usual. The book he had in his hand laid closed with one finger marking the page. Jongin had started reading, but he couldn’t continue it. His mind kept going over and over what he had been thinking about the last few days. Jongin worried his lower lip in silence as he remembered his conversation with Baekhyun.
His friend laid in bed, motionless as always. His face had lost weight over the years, or maybe it was because he wasn’t smiling that Jongin thought his cheeks were thinner. Jongin had years to engrave the memory of Chanyeol’s grin in his mind. The videos he’d found at Chanyeol’s home also helped keep it alive. But when he looked at the man in the bed, he seemed like a different person.
Grass. River Han. Someone on a bike. Someone running. A dog barking. Jongin’s face. ‘Enough, hyung.’ Jongin’s hand. Darkness. Chanyeol’s face. Chanyeol’s smile. Chanyeol’s laughter.
“Where are you?” Jongin whispered. Chanyeol was right in front of him. But the Chanyeol Jongin wanted back was nowhere to be seen. The man Jongin missed was light in Jongin’s life. The man in the bed was darkness.
Jongin sighed, sliding his finger off the book and leaving it on top of the bed. He, then, placed his hand on top of Chanyeol’s. It was warm. Sometimes, when he did that, Chanyeol’s hand would twitch or react. Dr. Kim had explained that it was a natural reaction, a few nerves that were still active. The doctor wasn’t a man that gave baseless hope. The fact that he insisted on keeping Chanyeol in the ward and doing the tests was what gave Jongin hope.
This time no finger twitched. Jongin took a deep breath.
“I miss you so much,” he spoke. It was hard for the words to come out. He had to push himself hard to openly tell Chanyeol what he was feeling. His shaking hands were proof of that. “So fucking much. Yeol…” He took a deep breath. “I want you back in my life. I want to see you smile again and talk and… just…” His voice cracked before he thought he could continue.
He stayed in silence for a few moments, gathering the courage to say what he had come to say that day.
“I love you.”
When people say those words, they expect an answer, a reaction, a reciprocation or a rejection. Jongin couldn’t hope for any of that. So he just let the words come out and felt how the constriction inside his chest was liberated. He was shaking more than before, but he kept breathing deeply until his body relaxed.
“I love you, as more than a friend. I want you to stay with me my whole life. I’m so sorry I never realized it before, nor said it out loud for you to hear it.” He chuckled. “You probably don’t feel the same way, so it might be better this way. I wouldn’t like to see the pity in your eyes when you tell me that you love me, but as your best friend.”
It pained Jongin to think about that, but he felt better after saying it out loud.
As he didn’t need to stay to hear an answer, he stood up weakly and picked up the book. Chanyeol showed no sign of a reaction. Jongin stared at him, taking in his resting face. His cheekbones were more prominent as the natural chubbiness of his cheeks had disappeared. Since his eyes were closed, the only things that remained the same were his ears, his nose and his lips. Jongin’s eyes stayed on Chanyeol’s mouth. His lips were slightly open as he breathed in and out. They still looked plump. It made Jongin realize that he had noticed Chanyeol’s lips before without even knowing it.
It might have been his only chance to do it, so Jongin leaned in forwards to place his own lips over Chanyeol’s.
The kiss was short; it was just a peck. Chanyeol, once again, didn’t react. That broke Jongin more than not getting an answer to his confession. He wanted a twitch, of Chanyeol’s lips or his face. Any reaction would have made Jongin feel better.
But Chanyeol remained motionless, asleep.
Jongin stepped away before more tears could fall from his eyes. He needed fresh air soon to overcome the pain that no matter what he did, Chanyeol was still going to be in that bed, leaving Jongin alone in the world. Because even if Jongin had friends, family and people around him, none of them were Chanyeol.
Yet, from then on, the words “I love you” and a kiss to Chanyeol’s lips became a routine the same way reading to him had become.
At the next test session, Jongin sat down in the same chair, looking at Chanyeol. Again, all he could see was his lower body. He patiently waited for the doctor and the technician to set up everything they needed and, when they were done, Dr. Kim slid the microphone over to Jongin’s side.
Jongin’s words came easily; he was ready for it. This time it was The Stranger by Albert Camus. Jongin didn’t like the story much, but he didn’t read for himself; he read for Chanyeol. The more he read, the closer he felt to his best friend.
“I was assailed by memories of a life that wasn't mine anymore, but one in which I'd found the simplest and most lasting joys: the smells of summer, the part of town I loved, a certain evening sky, Marie's dresses and the way she laughed,” were the words that Jongin read. The images conjured, though, had very little to do with the book. Instead of Marie’s dresses, Jongin saw Chanyeol’s hoodies. A town in France was replaced by an evening by the river Han.
When the reading was over, Jongin felt the urge to speak again and say what he said after every visit. “I-” He couldn’t. He couldn’t say those words in front of other people.
Dr. Kim waited for a moment. But when Jongin didn’t continue his sentence, he pointed at the screen. “Still the same. He understands.” The zone of the brain that was colored was not enough for Jongin to feel better, when the zone that he wanted to see with colors was dark, inactive. “When he wakes up,” the doctor continued.
If he wakes up, Jongin thought.
“We’ll have to see if this zone is active then,” Dr. Kim finished his explanation. Jongin nodded in understanding. “That’s it for today then. You can tell him goodbye now.” The man said while gathering his notes as the technician took care of the computer.
“Chanyeol… I’m gonna go now. I’ll be back soon… uhm… I…” It was harder to say those words with an audience, especially where he lived.
“Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim startled him by placing his hand on Jongin’s shoulder. “We assure you confidentiality. What is said within these walls is part of Chanyeol’s personal life. We keep quiet about that.” From the way the doctor spoke, it seemed like he knew what Jongin was going to say.
Jongin nodded and looked forward at Chanyeol’s body. Then, he leaned again into the microphone. “I love you.” His voice was as quiet as it always was when he said it.
“Pity I can’t tell the nurses,” said Dr. Kim with a knowing smile. “They’ve been gossiping about this for a long time.” He chuckled.
Jongin felt himself flush and lowered his head. He wasn’t so much uncomfortable about people talking about him; it was more about people knowing how he felt before he even did. Dr. Kim was kind enough to not say anything else. They walked out of the room together, but Jongin greeted him and left on his own.
A chair. A hand. Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s guitar. Chanyeol on the chair. Chanyeol’s fingers on his guitar. ‘I wrote this song for you.’ Chanyeol looking at the camera. ‘To say everything I don’t dare to say out loud’. The first chords of a song. Music. Chanyeol biting his lip. Music. Chanyeol looking at the camera. Chanyeol’s voice. Lyrics. Words. Words that speak of friendship. Words that speak of love. Words that confess. Words that tell. Music. Chanyeol’s fingers on his guitar. Chanyeol looking at the camera. Words. Words that repeat themselves.
Words that Jongin had said time and time again by Chanyeol’s bed.
’I’m a coward. I don’t know if I’ll ever say this to you. How much I love you and how much you mean to me. I don’t know if i’ll ever sing this song for you. For now, I’m recording this video, hoping it’ll encourage me to say I love you, Jongin.
The video stopped when Chanyeol got up and stretched his arm towards the camera. Jongin sat alone in the empty living room on Chanyeol’s spot on the couch. Shaky breaths leaving his mouth, he sat there staring at the dark screen. He felt cold. If Chanyeol’s words had been said face to face, he would feel warmer, much warmer. Without him, all Jongin felt was coldness spreading through his body, making him shiver.
Chanyeol had written a love song for Jongin, which he never got to hear while Chanyeol was awake. Chanyeol had been in love with him and never once said a thing about it. Jongin remembered all their shared moments trying to find hints of it. If he focused on the details he remembered, he could find it, in the way Chanyeol looked at him, or in the way he didn’t. He had known how he felt long before Jongin did.
It had taken Jongin only a few weeks to accept his own feelings, though. Once he started thinking of his best friend in a different way, everything fell into place. A change of perspective made him see Chanyeol not as a friend, but as something deeper than that. It made sense that he was in love with him. He had had Jongin’s heart in his hands for a very long time.
Jongin wondered if it had been like that for Chanyeol too. Or if the realization of his feelings had brought him sadness or pain. Whether it had been difficult to accept them or not. Whether he had told someone else.
Sitting in the silence of the empty living room, Jongin let what he learned from the video called ‘Sing for you’ settle in his mind. He couldn’t feel the joy of finding out his feelings were reciprocated, because at that moment, they weren’t. Chanyeol wasn’t there with him to say the words. He felt cold and empty and, before leaving the house, he picked out another hoodie from Chanyeol’s closet.
Jongin was in the studio when his phone rang. The name on the screen was Yura’s. They didn’t speak often, so the fact that she was calling at an unusual time made him uneasy. He felt Yixing’s curious eyes on his face as he stared down at the phone in his hand.
Before the call could end, he swiped the screen and spoke.
“Noona?”
“Jonginnie,” she said softly. She always sounded like that whenever she spoke with him. “How are you? Did you eat?” Her words were the usual ones, but her voice was different.
“No, I didn’t, noona. You?” He considered asking her out for a meal together.
“Oh! I did… Uhm…” Her hesitation unsettled him.
He stared at Yixing’s back as the other man left the room. Jongin was thankful for his thoughtfulness. In the lone room, he could hear his own breathing clearly.
“Is everything okay, noona?”
A car honked on the other side of the line. “Uhm.. Yes.” She paused. “I’ve got some news.” Before Jongin could ask, she blurted out her reason for calling. “Chanyeol’s awake.”
Jongin felt his heart skip a beat. He had been dreaming about hearing those words for a really long time, years, actually. But mostly, he had been dreaming of being there to see it. The clock on the wall showed him it was long past visiting hours.
“Wh-what?”
“He is awake, Jonginnie.” And she sounded like herself again, when she spoke to Jongin, so fond and caring, like the older sister he inherited through Chanyeol.
“When?” He couldn’t even make full sentences.
“Just now.” So he was alone. “I was called by the doctor. I’m on my way to the hospital. Are you in the studio? I can pick you up.” He noticed all the street noises in the background. “He told me to let you know. Dr. Kim did.” Jongin heard Dr. Kim’s voice inside his mind.
He felt weak. Sitting down on the floor, not caring for the chairs in the room, he took a few deep breaths. “Noona, don’t… the phone… when you’re driving.” He knew he wasn’t coherent. All he could think of was the accident.
“Sorry! I was just… I really needed to call you.” He could hear the smile through her voice. “I haven’t called my parents yet.” She chuckled, trying to conceal the cracks in her voice. “What a bad daughter!”
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for telling me.” He was clutching the phone with both hands.
“I’ll be there in 10,” was what she said last before ending the call.
Jongin let his hands fall to his lap. He sat there in the room alone, letting the information sink in.
Chanyeol was awake. He woke up by himself after years of being asleep, as his mother kept saying. Now, Jongin would be able to listen to him, see him smile, hear his laugh. Chanyeol was back.
Even though Jongin tried to control his anxiety, it was still there when he crossed through the door to Chanyeol’s room. He felt it in his fast beating heart, his sweaty palms that he kept running over his jeans, and the pricking in his eyes, a sign of tears that could fall out at any moment.
Yura walked in before him and she headed straight to the bed, ready to hug Chanyeol. She enveloped her brother, who remained still looking confused. Chanyeol wasn’t looking at Jongin; he was paying attention to the woman in his arms. Awkwardly patting her back, he started to lean away, wincing probably because of pain. As his hands dropped from her, she sobbed loudly. When they separated, though, he grinned at her.
Jongin stood there in silence, watching the siblings exchange smiles, recognition painting Chanyeol’s face. His friend’s face had definitely changed over time; he had lost weight. But he was still the same person. As always, a smile on Chanyeol’s face was contagious; Jongin could feel his own widening. Chanyeol’s eyes shined brightly. He was awake. Jongin could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest waiting for the moment Chanyeol would look at him.
At the end of the bed, Dr. Kim stood and his hand sign called Jongin’s attention, motioning him to step closer. Jongin did. That’s when Chanyeol’s eyes turned from his sister to him.
A deep breath made Jongin’s chest shake, as Chanyeol’s eyes focused on him. His friend was silent. He didn’t need to say anything, though. All he had to do was grin widely, openly, the way Jongin remembered, for Jongin to throw himself at him.
Sobbing and laughing at the same time, Jongin held Chanyeol tightly, to make sure it wasn’t a dream. He could hear the deep rumble in Chanyeol’s chest, as his friend laughed too. The deep voice Jongin had learned to love sounded hoarse. Years of not being used caused that. Jongin could now allow himself to hope for more things, for example, for Chanyeol’s voice to sound familiar again.
“Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim cleared his throat. It made Jongin break away slowly from Chanyeol, keeping a strong grip on his hand. “Chanyeol-ssi?” The doctor then looked at his patient. “You remember who he is, don’t you?”
Chanyeol tilted his head, frowning his eyebrows. The doctor repeated the question twice before Chanyeol replied. It was a garbled sound, ininteligible. He was nodding and his face showed a confused expression. Jongin’s hold on Chanyeol’s hand weakened. Their linked hands plopped on the bed, making Chanyeol turn curiously to look at him. Then, his friend opened his mouth, but all that came were strange sounds, with a hoarse voice. These sounds were meant to be words, words with meanings. But Jongin couldn’t understand them. That’s when it hit him, that Chanyeol couldn’t speak. Even if he tried, even if the sounds came out of his mouth, he couldn’t speak.
“This side is not active. This is the speech production zone. He might understand you, but he can’t reply.” Jongin remembered. He knew then why Dr. Kim insisted on taking the tests.
Chanyeol couldn’t speak.
Before Jongin could react or say anything, the door of the room opened to give way to Chanyeol’s parents. Yura stood by Jongin’s side, quietly pulling him away from Chanyeol. He was too shocked to do anything but let her. As always, Yura became Jongin’s support when Chanyeol couldn’t.
Chanyeol’s mother sobbed loudly when the doctor explained the situation to them.
“But… he’s a singer,” she said quietly, looking at her son, who she was sitting next to.
“Chanyeol-ssi, do you understand what we’re saying?” Dr. Kim focused back on his patient.
After a few minutes, Chanyeol nodded and it pained Jongin to see that he understood, even with a bit of difficulty. His smile had fallen the moment his mother started sobbing when he had tried to call her, when he had tried to say something and all that came out were garbled, gibberish sounds.
It took a while for Jongin to realize that despite the shock, something was going back to normal. Chanyeol’s voice didn’t sound hoarse anymore. It was starting to sound like his again, familiar to Jongin.
“You’ll stay in the clinic for a while longer, Chanyeol-ssi. We will need to run many more tests. I will leave you with your family and friend alone.” The doctor spoke slowly and stopped between each sentence to give Chanyeol time to understand him. Then, he gave Jongin a sympathetic smile before leaving the room.
As Chanyeol’s parents logically took up all of his attention, Jongin decided to step away quietly and wait in the hall. The moment he plopped down on one of the chairs, he realized how drained he felt. He hadn’t spent much time in that room, but he still felt tired, extremely exhausted. He sighed letting his head fall backwards, softly hitting the wall. He kept working on regulating his breathing.
Chanyeol was awake, but he couldn’t speak. Maybe Jongin was being greedy by wanting him to be fully recovered so soon after having woken up. Yet, it was hard to think about Chanyeol and know that he wouldn’t be talking as he used to. Chanyeol expressed himself through a thousand words and a really loud voice. Jongin was not prepared for a quiet Chanyeol. Because once it dawned on him, Chanyeol would stop trying to talk.
Little by little, Chanyeol gained back the mobility of his body after the years in bed. Jongin was there in every step of the way, directing assuring smiles at him, hoping his friend wouldn’t notice how weird he felt whenever strange sounds left his mouth. But Chanyeol did and he would smile awkwardly at him, to which Jongin responded with a simple touch. Surprisingly to Jongin, since Chanyeol woke up, their relationship became a lot more physical. All that they couldn’t express through words, they did through their hands. There were words Jongin wanted to say out loud and hear from Chanyeol too, but he knew those would have to wait.
Jongin added two more days to his visits, since Chanyeol needed the company. His friend’s eyes lit up whenever Jongin entered the room, usually expecting Jongin to bring something for him, either food or a book. Chanyeol couldn’t speak, but his reading comprehension still worked, slower but still worked, not his writing though, Dr. Kim explained to them once.
One day, Chanyeol surprised Jongin by saying one single, clear word. He asked for his guitar. Jongin swallowed down his emotions, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He asked the nurses if he could bring it, but apologetically, they didn’t allow it.
“Besides, he can wait a little bit more,” nurse Soojung told him, winking at him.
From the doors of the elevator, Yura and Dr. Kim stepped out together. When Yura saw Jongin, she sped up to greet him with a wide grin on her face. Her smile was really similar to her brother’s, she was as cheerful as he was. Jongin could see why men would fall for her, the same reasons he fell for her brother.
“Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim joined them. “Shall we go to see Chanyeol?” He gestured at the end of the corridor, where Chanyeol’s room was.
As they walked, Jongin could feel Yura’s eyes on him. Before he could cross through the door to the room, she stopped him.
“Jonginnie,” she said, but nothing else followed. Jongin looked at her face. She couldn’t contain her joy; it was written all over her face, in her eyes especially. And somehow it was as contagious as it was confusing.
“Jongin-ssi,” Dr. Kim called his attention. The doctor looked at him in a more serene way than Yura. But he couldn’t hide his pleased smile either. “Before we enter to see Chanyeol, I have good news.” Jongin’s heart started beating faster, waiting for him to continue. “Since he’s been improving physically, we can no longer keep him. He’ll be free to go home after we discharge him.”
Jongin’s ears rang as the news settled inside of him. Before he could reply, Yura hugged him excitedly. “He’s going home,” she whispered in his ear. Jongin’s hands fell slowly on her back and he hid his grin on her shoulder.
When they broke away, Jongin wondered out loud about Chanyeol’s parents and Yura explained they were on their way.
Dr. Kim then stepped in between to get inside the room. Yura and Jongin followed him. Chanyeol was on the bed, changing channels on the TV screen. When he saw them coming in, he greeted them all with a smile and wave. Then, he bowed to Dr. Kim.
Jongin paid attention to his face. It had been a few weeks since he woke up and his cheeks were already filling in again. As he grinned widely at Jongin, his cheekbones raised high and Jongin felt his heart flutter. The energy Chanyeol showed was enough for Jongin to start feeling like himself again. The light he wanted was back with Chanyeol’s eyes wide open and silly grin on his face.
“Chanyeol-ssi,” Dr. Kim started. “You’re in good form,” he said with a kind smile. Chanyeol didn’t say anything, but nodded, clearly proud of the doctor’s words. That seemed a lot more like the Chanyeol Jongin loved. “We have good news.”
Jongin could see Yura fidgeting excitedly, holding Chanyeol’s hand in hers. She turned to her brother and spoke with a broken voice, “You’re going home.” Jongin saw the tears falling from her eyes and felt his own pricking.
Chanyeol sat still, looking from one person to the other in the room. He didn’t react until he stopped and stared at Jongin. Once Jongin assured him with a nod that it was the truth, Chanyeol crushed his sister in a hug. Both of them were shaking, quietly crying in happiness. When Chanyeol pulled away, he turned to Jongin and motioned at him to step close with a hand gesture and red puffy eyes. Jongin’s tears fell as he was enveloped by Chanyeol’s arms. He could feel warm and comfort take away the last few years of pain and sadness. He could feel Chanyeol coming back into Jongin’s life.
There was only one thing missing.
After a few minutes, Dr. Kim spoke again, slowly as always. “You’ll have to do a few exercises at home to regain full and complete mobility. The accident didn’t cause much damage on your body. You’ll be in excellent condition soon enough.”
Chanyeol nodded as he understood each sentence and was about to reply, when he remembered he couldn’t and closed his mouth. Jongin was sitting on the bed by his side. He placed a hand on his back, rubbing soothingly, and Chanyeol directed a thankful smile at him. His big eyes were still red from so close. Then, he took Jongin’s hand and held it.
A knock on the door interrupted them.
“There he is,” Dr. Kim said as he walked to let whoever was outside in.
A short man with dark hair and a strong set of eyebrows entered the room. He looked familiar to Jongin, and when the man spoke in greeting, it clicked. He had met Dr. Do Kyungsoo the same day he started the tests about three months before.
“Dr. Do here will be taking care of your speech rehabilitation,” Dr. Kim explained patting the man’s shoulder. Yura stood up from the edge of Chanyeol’s bed and bowed at the other doctor. “First, he’ll diagnose Chanyeol better than I could. He’s an expert and I’ve kept him informed since you woke up, Chanyeol-ssi.”
“As far as I know, Park Chanyeol-ssi, you have an inability to formulate language. I have a set of tests and work for your treatment once we detect what type of Aphasia you have.”
The man’s voice sounded serious. He didn’t seem like a man who would like Chanyeol, but his friend could charm almost anyone and Jongin looked forward to seeing them together. Also, the doctor’s words gave him the hope he was missing. He squeezed Chanyeol’s hand in excitement, thinking that maybe Chanyeol would be able to speak again.
Not long after, Chanyeol’s parents arrived. Jongin greeted them politely. Chanyeol’s father grabbed his shoulder and quietly spoke to him before even going to see his son. “Thank you for always being here for him, for us, Jonginnie.” Jongin bowed, but he couldn’t reply. He was overwhelmed by all the good news and how much things were going to change.
The only thing that wasn’t going to change was what Jongin felt for Chanyeol. He hadn’t said the words again since Chanyeol woke up. It took a lot of courage to think about his feelings again while Chanyeol was going through his recovery. Jongin was first and foremost Chanyeol’s best friend, his pillar, his strength and company. Bringing his feelings to light was selfish when Chanyeol should focus completely on himself.
The sunlight filtered through the windows, showing the usual dust particles that Chanyeol’s messy house had always had. The furniture was no longer covered. The TV hadn’t been touched much since Chanyeol returned to his home, but the couch was already as dented as it had been before the accident. The twin traces of both Chanyeol and Jongin were there for everyone to see. The house was alive once again.
Chanyeol wasn’t ready to go back to his job as a music teacher. Jongin could see it in the way he held his guitar and stared at it quietly, sometimes playing a few chords, but most times lost in his own mind.
A keyboard. Hands. White keys. Black keys. Music. Fingers dancing along the keys. A deep voice. Arms. Chanyeol’s face. Music. Chanyeol singing. ‘Hyung, you’re great!’ Chanyeol’s smile. ‘I know, Jonginnie.’ Music. Words. More music. Chanyeol’s voice.
Jongin wanted to help him, that’s why he spent so much time with Chanyeol. Their friends came to visit often, like Baekhyun for example, but none of them stayed as long as Jongin did. One day Chanyeol asked Jongin to stay the night; that night Jongin slept uncomfortably on the old couch.
After that, it became more common for Jongin to stay with Chanyeol. It was so easy to fall into a routine. Years of going to the hospital to visit him became nights at Chanyeol’s house keeping him company. His friend’s smiled widened every time Jongin told him he would be staying. Jongin felt at home; it was home because Chanyeol was there with him.
Their conversations were short and one-sided. It was mostly Jongin asking questions and Chanyeol nodding or shaking his head. His comprehension was improving quite fast, yet his speech was still limited to no more than a few words. Whenever Jongin got back from work at the studio, he would tell Chanyeol about his day. His friend would listen attentively. At first it felt strange for Jongin to be the one to do all the talking, but Chanyeol’s fascinated look made him loosen up. When Jongin asked him one day what was so interesting about what he was saying, Chanyeol shook his head with a smile and shiny eyes.
The way Chanyeol looked at him reminded him of Chanyeol’s words, of the song he never got to hear live.
Rain was pouring as Jongin ran to Chanyeol’s house. The huge black hoodie clung onto his body getting wetter by the second. A misstep he made splashed water on his shoe. He ran as fast as he could to get to his best friend's house, thinking of a nice shower and a warm house, a place where he could be protected from the storm. Chanyeol probably wouldn't mind sharing more clothes with him that he already did.
Jongin looked up at the dark clouds above him. It didn't matter if they stayed there in the sky, as long as he got to Chanyeol’s house safely.
He put in the code to the door the moment he reached it and shook his head right before stepping inside to get rid of the water.
“Yeol!” He greeted loudly. He waited to see if there was any sound in the house to show him that Chanyeol was there.
A loud crash came from the studio room and Jongin hoped none of the instruments were harmed. An equally loud groan was heard right after, making Jongin chuckle. He walked towards the room, but before he reached the door, Chanyeol popped up from it with a wide grin on his face. When he noticed Jongin’s state, he frowned and pushed him in the direction of the bathroom.
“Wait! How about take-out for dinner?” Jongin asked, with Chanyeol’s hands on his shoulders pushing him forward.
“Hmm!” Chanyeol agreed.
“Good. I’ll call after a shower,” Jongin said. “Oh! Can you lend me some clothes?” He turned around and met Chanyeol’s judging stare, who looked down at the black hoodie Jongin was wearing. A soft smile was on his lips as he nodded and gestured at Jongin to go shower.
After a nice, warm shower, Jongin wrapped himself in Chanyeol’s freshly cleaned clothes. Another hoodie to drown himself in. As he stepped out of the bathroom to go find his phone, he heard the clear sound of the guitar strings being played. He didn’t recognize the song, but the melody pulled him towards the studio, like if it were calling him.
He didn’t walk in because he didn’t want to interrupt Chanyeol. His friend replaced what could have been words with humming in his characteristic deep voice. It was a very soothing melody. As Jongin stayed there listening he began to realize that it was familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it was from.
Chanyeol’s humming became a little bit louder. And it clicked.
Words that repeat themselves.
It was Chanyeol’s song for him. Jongin leaned heavily against the wall by the door, taking deep breaths. He tried to focus on his breathing to stop himself from crying, but his eyes were soon burning. The moment the first tear fell, he started shaking. Chanyeol remembered the song.
A sob escaped his mouth before he could stop it. The music stopped abruptly and rushed steps came closer to the door. Chanyeol’s surprised face popped up from inside the room. That’s all Jongin saw before lowering his head to hide his tears. But he couldn’t hide his shaking body, which Chanyeol quickly pulled into a hug. Jongin buried himself into his chest, while his friend rubbed soothing circles on his back. It was clear that he didn’t know what was going on.
Once Jongin calmed down, he took a step back, wiping his tears.
“Sorry,” he said.
Chanyeol opened his mouth. Jongin knew what he wanted to ask. Instead of replying, he walked towards the bedroom still taking shaky breaths, followed closely behind by Chanyeol. He opened the closet. He was familiar with everything inside of it, from the hoodies to the snapbacks to the old shoe box, which he took in his hands. When he turned to his friend, Chanyeol had a curious smile on his face.
“Come on,” Jongin’s voice didn’t crack.
He gestured at Chanyeol to sit down on the couch, while he turned on the TV. From the box, he took the video that he had only dared to play a few times. It was hard to listen to Chanyeol’s confession. This time, he put it in and leaned back. He didn’t dare to sit on the couch with Chanyeol.
As soon as the video started playing and the image of Chanyeol and his guitar appeared on the screen, Jongin heard a loud gasp coming from behind. From the corner of his eye, he saw Chanyeol leaning forward in his seat. Jongin was gripping his sweatpants tightly, waiting for the video to end.
When it was over, Jongin spoke quietly, “Do you remember this?” Chanyeol’s affirmative hum was clear. Jongin exhaled before turning around. “Do you-?” He didn’t even know what he wanted to ask.
Chanyeol was sitting still on the couch, eyes wide open. Years of close friendship let Jongin see that Chanyeol was afraid. So he stood up and walked towards him. He took a seat on his usual place, right next to Chanyeol.
“Do you… still feel this way?” Jongin’s heart was beating loudly inside his chest as he stared at his linked hands in his lap. These seconds of silence and expectation were hurting him. As Chanyeol couldn’t explain himself in words, it hurt even more.
Suddenly, a hand touched his cheek, turning him to face Chanyeol. A nod, two nods. Chanyeol was nodding. His eyes were round, as open as he had always been with Jongin. It brought relief to Jongin. He held Chanyeol’s hand in place as they stared at each other.
They leaned forward at the same time, mouths meeting on the way. For the first time, Chanyeol was kissing back. The hand on his cheek moved to his nape to pull him even closer. Through this kiss they discovered new things about each other. Jongin had never known that Chanyeol preferred kissing his lower lip more than his upper one. He didn’t expect that he himself would enjoy nibbling on Chanyeol’s lips so much. The breathy laugh that came from Chanyeol’s mouth made him smile. They separated only to kiss again. Chanyeol settled back on the couch pulling Jongin along on top of him.
They still had a lot of things to talk about. Jongin still had to declare to Chanyeol what he felt, but his mouth was too busy to focus on that. He let his action speak more than his words, as he poured everything he felt while Chanyeol had been asleep on a hospital bed. They would have time later on to talk, or gesture. It didn’t matter.
Chanyeol was awake.
Author's Note: The machine used for the tests is this one and Chanyeol’s impairment is loosely Expressive Aphasia.
Pairing(s): Kai/Chanyeol, Past!Kai/Taemin
Rating: PG-13
Length: 9K
Warning(s): [Please click to open.]car accident, mentions of blood.
Summary: “How we need another soul to cling to.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath.
Jongin clinged onto Chanyeol, who had been in a coma for the last three years, by watching old videos.
Author's Note: There are fragments in italics that might seem a little confusing at first, but I hope you can understand them. Thanks a lot to my betas, C, M and R (you’re the MVP). And the mods for having worked so hard these past months.
Dusting off an old shoe box, Jongin chuckled at Chanyeol’s scrawl. The words on the box were probably written in a hurry, or while he was talking. Sometimes Chanyeol would get so excited when talking that he would forget he’s multi-tasking and mess up whatever he was doing. Jongin traced the letters on the box and he could see Chanyeol’s smile. His friend was a presence in every corner of the house. He was the reason the house used to be alive whenever Jongin visited. But now, the spirit was gone. There was no light; it was all dust and darkness.
It had been three years since their accident. More than enough time for Jongin’s second home to turn into a fragile shell that protected Jongin’s memories. It was enough for Jongin’s heart to lose a piece of itself and become incomplete. More than enough time to make Jongin realize that he didn't want to be without that piece.
Jongin’s cheek. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Filming you.’ Jongin’s face. ‘That’s what we have phones for, hyung.’ Chanyeol’s laugh. The sky. ‘Tell me. What are we doing here?’ Close-up on Jongin’s eyes. ‘Why me, hyung?’ Silence. Jongin’s confused smile. ’Just talk, Jonginnie.’ Jongin sighing. ‘We came here to camp.’ Trees. Ground. River. Blur. A tent. ‘Why?’ ’Hyung! You know why!’ Jongin’s face. ’Our viewers don’t!’ ‘You’re not posting this online!’ A hand. Darkness. ‘Stop, Jongin! That tickles!’ The ground. Chanyeol’s pout. ‘Tell me, hyung. What are we doing here?’ Chanyeol’s smile. Brightness. Light. Chanyeol.
Chanyeol was brightness, light, energy, anything Jongin needed him to be. Without any of that, Jongin felt empty. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t find it anywhere else. And now, Jongin’s light rested in a hospital bed and Jongin waited for him to wake up. There were very few tears left in Jongin’s eyes. Most of them were shed by Chanyeol’s side. At those moments, Jongin hoped that Chanyeol would hear him, open his eyes and tell him not to cry.
Fire. ‘I am the Fire God!’ ‘Shut up, hyung.’ Jongin’s face.
Jongin left the box on the floor and walked to the living room. There was little light, so he opened the window to let the sun in. Particles of dust flew around the room and, when he uncovered the TV and the sofa, more lifted up into the air. On the sofa, the dent on Chanyeol’s side was visible, next to Jongin’s. There wasn’t much point in keeping the house and Jongin asked himself why shouldn’t they sell it- Chanyeol’s family could use the money. But looking at the twin dents on the cushion reminded Jongin why they couldn’t sell that home.
One of the videos taken out from the box was pressed into the VHS player- Jongin used to complain about Chanyeol’s fascination with old technology and his friend would laugh at him. The name on the tape said ‘Campfire’.
The day was nice, not too cold, not too warm. Chanyeol’s hoodie looked bigger on Jongin, swallowing him. Yura had suggested he take a few of Chanyeol’s clothes with him; the idea of his clothing hidden from the light and being eaten by moths was enough to make Jongin accept. He picked out his favorites hoodies and coats, the ones Chanyeol would wear often when they spent time together. It felt weird to look down and see Chanyeol’s clothes, but it was also a comfort.
The steps Jongin was taking were familiar; he had walked that path many times, three times a week, if he could. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, he would walk out of Jamsil-naru Station and head to Asan Medical Center. He would cross the main entrance and walk to the Neurology Center building. He already knew and greeted most of the women behind the main desk; he had seen some of them come and go since he started visiting the Center.
Jongin announced himself at the desk and Sunyoung smiled kindly at him. She was one of the most attentive employees Jongin had met.
“Do you want me to call Dr. Kim today, Jongin-ssi?” She suggested.
“There’s no need. Thank you,” He replied with a smile of his own, noticing by Sunyoung’s side the other girl behind the desk staring at him.
Sunyoung nodded and extended the folder over the desk, for Jongin to sign under the list of other visitors. When Jongin was done, she gestured at the elevator. He greeted both of the women and walked away. There weren’t people waiting, but when the elevator opened, there were two doctors coming up from the lower level. One of them was Dr. Kim.
“Oh! Kim Jongin-ssi! Nice to see you.” Dr. Kim was always polite and cheerful, if the situation allowed it. He hadn’t been cheerful when he had told Chanyeol’s family and Jongin that all they could do was wait.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Kim.”
The man next to the doctor smiled curiously at them. “Kim Jongin-ssi, this is Dr. Do Kyungsoo,” Kim Junmyeon introduced the short man who had a stern look on his face. “What did you bring today?” He then asked, nodding at Jongin’s messenger bag.
Jongin tapped the bag and told him, “Haruki Murakami.”
“Oh! Nice,” Dr. Kim said.
“Excuse me, what for?” Dr. Do’s voice sounded deep and pleasant to the ears. He actually was just as polite and gentle as Dr. Kim.
“Kim Jongin-ssi comes to read to one of our patients.” The expression on Dr. Do’s face was very telling. Most of the patients on the second floor were in a similar situation to Chanyeol, unconscious in bed. But the doctors allowed visitors to talk to them and interact in any way possible. They would even test how their brains reacted to certain people’s voices or touches. Jongin had yet to participate in one of those tests.
The door of the elevator dinged and Jongin stepped out with the two doctors. He was about to bid them goodbye, when Dr. Kim gestured at his friend to go and turned back to Jongin.
“Come with me, Jongin-ssi,” he said, placing a hand on Jongin’s shoulder.
The nurses at the desk of the floor all greeted him with familiarity. He was used to all of this, to Dr. Kim, to the nurses, to the women in the lobby of the center, to the walk from the subway station to the hospital.
“Chanyeol is stable, as always.” Dr. Kim had the doctor’s voice, the one that explained everything carefully. “I forgot you were coming here today, but since we ran into each other, I was thinking we could run the tests with you.”
Jongin was speechless for a moment. He didn’t know if he wanted to do it. The image of Chanyeol with all the sensors on his head measuring his brain activity as he laid in bed was already hard enough. He didn’t know how the tests would look.
“What do you think?” Dr. Kim asked.
“Okay.” Jongin nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do it.” He couldn’t be selfish, denying something that could help Chanyeol just because he didn’t want to look at him.
“Good.” Dr. Kim clapped once, smiling at Jongin.
The room where the tests were done was wide with a big rectangular white machine against one wall, with a circle in the middle and a table. Dr. Kim explained it was called PET and served to study brain functions. The machine detected the gamma rays a tracer inserted in the blood flow and translated them into a computer. It was a way of making a brain map. The way Dr. Kim explained it was very simple and easy to understand. It was supposed to make Jongin comfortable with the test. But when he saw Chanyeol on a stretcher being pushed across the room and a pair of male nurses taking care of placing him on the table of the machine, he felt uneasy.
“Okay. Come with me Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim gestured to the computer and other machines in the room. “And do as you always do.”
Jongin nodded nervously, his eyes not leaving unconscious Chanyeol. Then, he followed the doctor. There were a few chairs, one of them occupied by the man who worked the machine. Jongin greeted him with a bow before turning to look at Chanyeol. The machine activated at that moment and Jongin saw how the table moved. The tube swallowed Chanyeol’s body until only his lower half was visible.
Jongin said nothing. There was something so mechanical about the whole situation for the other men in the room, unattached to the patient. Meanwhile, for Jongin, the guy on the table was the one who brought light into his life. Jongin saw the white, well lighted room but felt like it was no match to what Chanyeol used to be.
“Whenever you want, Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim interrupted his thoughts smiling and placing a microphone in front of Jongin. “So that he can hear you inside the PET,” he explained.
He looked down at it, feeling awkward. He breathed in and pulled out his book. He opened the book in the page where he had left of. The first few words were stuttered and sounded weird coming out of his mouth. He couldn’t even focus on the pages, when from the corner of his eye, he could see the screen with Chanyeol’s brain activity. There wasn’t much going on, only the normal functions that kept the body alive.
“Come on, Jongin-ssi,” Dr. Kim told him.
After stopping and taking another deep breath, Jongin started again and this time the words flowed more easily. It still was hard to do it, being observed by the other men and being so far from Chanyeol. The comfort of reading by Chanyeol’s bed in private was the main reason he started doing it. He kept going, though.
“Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?” Jongin read. He wasn’t a fan of Murakami, but he could guess Chanyeol’s likes after having been friends for so long. Yura had been the one that recommended Sputnik Sweetheart.
Once he got to the part he was planning on stopping at, he kept quiet, waiting for Dr. Kim’s words. He turned to look at him and found him focused on the screen. He was a kind man, Chanyeol probably would have gotten along with him.
“There’s not much,” Dr. Kim commented. “Yet, he enjoys either your reading or your voice,” he explained, with a light assuring smile.
Jongin felt warmth on his face and wondered what the doctor was insinuating.
“You should keep doing it,” Dr. Kim continued. “See these red spots?” He indicated with his hands the red color on Chanyeol’s brain map. “These are the zones that work for speech comprehension.” His index finger stopped at an specific part. “This zone is not active. This is the speech production zone. He might understand you, but he can’t reply.”
It had always been him, Jongin, who didn’t reply. The one that talked Jongin’s ears off the most was Chanyeol. A social butterfly that couldn’t speak, that couldn’t react; it didn’t sound like Chanyeol. On the machine, only Chanyeol’s motionless lower half was visible.
“We try this with other patients, too.” Dr. Kim kept explaining. “We’ve seen some interesting results. But every reaction is relative to the patient. We’ve had people singing. Do you sing, Jongin-ssi?”
Jongin shook his head. “No. I’m more of a dancer…” He was about to explain that the singer between the two of them was Chanyeol, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Dark. A TV screen. Tapping. Music. Yellow letters. Jongin in front of the TV. ‘Come on, Jonginnie! You can do it!’. Jongin’s back. Words on the screen. Jongin’s shaky voice. Jongin singing. Chanyeol’s laughter. Jongin’s glare. ‘Sorry, sorry’. Jongin singing. ‘Louder!’. ‘I can’t.’ ‘Want me to sing with you?’ Jongin nodding. ‘Another song.’ Chanyeol’s hands. Tapping. Chanyeol’s pursed lips. Music. The screen. ‘Come on.’ Chanyeol’s yell. ‘LOUDER!’ Music. Chanyeol’s rapping. The mic. The floor. Jongin’s voice. The floor. Jongin’s feet. Jongin jumping. The ceiling. Neon pink. Green. Chanyeol’s face. A hand. ‘Sorry.’
The sizzling noise of the grill plus the ambience of the restaurant, the people talking around them and Baekhyun’s voice above them all; it all added to Jongin’s own silence. Baekhyun was telling him about his job and other things that Jongin should have been paying attention to. He couldn’t. In the middle of that place, Jongin felt alone.
Jongin remembered one time Chanyeol and he had talked about one of Chanyeol’s favorite stories, The Little Prince. The little prince had asked where the people were, saying it was a little lonely in the desert. The snake had replied, “It is lonely when you’re among people, too.” That was exactly what Jongin was feeling at the moment.
“Am I boring you?” Baekhyun called his attention. He looked worried. Before Jongin could reply, he asked, “Did you go to see him today?”
Jongin sighed. “Yeah, I did.” He picked up a piece of gopchang before it would burn. When Baekhyun passed him the ssamjang sauce, Jongin saw that Baekhyun’s glass was empty and quickly picked up the bottle of soju.
“How is he?” Baekhyun asked after thanking Jongin for filling his shot glass.
Jongin lifted up his own glass and they clanked them before chugging the alcohol down their throats. The soju passed down, burning his insides. Jongin wasn’t a fan of alcohol; he only started drinking at Chanyeol’s insistence.
“Like always,” he answers. “No changes.” He filled their glasses again as Baekhyun took care of the grill. “We tested something today. You know that I usually read to him, right?” Baekhyun nodded. “Well, I read while a machine read his head. It was weird.”
“And?”
“He liked it.” He felt himself flush at the memory of Dr. Kim’s comment. He put some food inside his mouth to have an excuse to not say anything else.
But Baekhyun was sharp and got it instantly. “That’s nice. Of course he’d like it.” He gave Jongin a knowing look. As Jongin wasn’t replying, he continued. “You’re very important to him.”
“He is- was- is very important to me too,” he murmured quietly.
Baekhyun caught it. “Jongin, I know you miss him.” His friend’s bright eyes looked sympathetic when Jongin lifted his head from the grill. “We all miss him.”
“I- I know how to live without him.” Jongin’s walls shook. “It’s easy. You breathe, walk, work, dance, you do everything.” The first bricks fell down. “But he’s still missing. And I’m so used to him, to his company.”
“It’s been a few years, Jongin,” said Baekhyun’s soft voice.
“I know. That’s why I can’t cry anymore.” Jongin sighed.
Jongin had shed many tears already.
After Jongin had crawled out of the upside down car, he was met with the image of his best friend on the ground. His head was dizzy from the fast, unexpected movement of the car. There was little of the accident he could recall. The worst image Jongin kept from it was Chanyeol laying down, spread limbs, torn jacket and blood around his head. His first thought had been dead, until paramedics came and started shouting directions to people. Jongin remembered the police siren, the sound of the ambulance, a crowd around. But Chanyeol, motionless Chanyeol was the only thing that felt real at the moment.
He was put inside the ambulance next to Chanyeol’s body on the stretcher. He was asked questions he didn’t know the answer to. All he could focus on was Chanyeol. He saw the matted hair, dirty with blood, bruises on Chanyeol’s cheeks, more dried blood on his neck. The cellphone was nowhere to be seen.
He’s alive, said the paramedic when Jongin took Chanyeol’s hand in his.
He didn't cry then.
After he was treated for his injuries, bruises on his ribs caused by the seat belt, he waited in the hall for hours until the doctor told them Chanyeol wasn’t waking up. Chanyeol’s mother collapsed. Her husband kneeled by her side to hold her. Yura was the one who looked at Jongin and embraced him. With his head on Yura’s shoulder, he finally let the tears fall, wetting her clothes, matching the wet spot Yura was leaving on his own shoulder. The grip of her hands on his back that were pulling him closer was the only thing that stopped him from shaking.
When Chanyeol was moved to the Neurology Center, his room became the most visited place by Jongin. And his last tears were shed there by his bed until he couldn’t do it anymore.
“How’s Taemin?” Baekhyun asked, cutting through Jongin’s memories.
“He… I guess he’s fine.” Jongin didn’t lift his eyes from the now empty grill.
“You guess?” Baekhyun’s inquisitive tone was probably softer than his eyes.
Jongin dared to look up and meet Baekhyun’s eyes. Actually, the look he was giving him was soft, as if he didn’t need an explanation.
“We’re not together anymore…” Jongin explained nonetheless. Baekhyun’s reply was merely a hum and it made Jongin tell him more. “I don’t… I didn’t feel much for him. And he…” Jongin exhaled loudly. “He was…”
“Not Chanyeol.” The certainty of Baekhyun’s words made Jongin drop his chopsticks. “No one will ever be Chanyeol, Jongin.”
“How?”
Baekhyun smiled in sympathy. “We all know it.”
Jongin hadn’t even admitted it to himself; he was still trying to understand what it was. He knew what Chanyeol was to him. He was Jongin’s reason to laugh and smile. He took Jongin’s weight off his shoulders with a simple joke or a deep conversation. He was everywhere; he had creeped into Jongin’s life, not giving him time to stop him. Before he knew it, Chanyeol was the wind that blew away the dark clouds every time Jongin needed it. And when the clouds came from an argument with Chanyeol, they were weak, meaningless.
In turn, Jongin was company for Chanyeol. Whenever he wanted some alone time, it included him. When he composed new songs, Jongin was the first one to listen to them. He was the voice Chanyeol wanted to hear at night when he called at 3 a.m. He didn’t need to search far and wide for him, because Jongin was always there.
In their own ways, they had become part of each other’s worlds; so deeply ingrained that not having Chanyeol with him weakened Jongin every day a little more. He kept clinging onto the memories of the liveliness that Chanyeol had had, that he had transmitted through words and smiles, hoping that one day he would wake up and grin. Because the darkest cloud above Jongin now was to wait for Chanyeol.
“Is it love?” Jongin murmured absentmindedly.
“It probably is, but it’s not up to me to tell you,” Baekhyun explained. His friend looked at him with pity in his eyes; Jongin understood why.
In the silence of the ward, Jongin sat next to Chanyeol’s bed as usual. The book he had in his hand laid closed with one finger marking the page. Jongin had started reading, but he couldn’t continue it. His mind kept going over and over what he had been thinking about the last few days. Jongin worried his lower lip in silence as he remembered his conversation with Baekhyun.
His friend laid in bed, motionless as always. His face had lost weight over the years, or maybe it was because he wasn’t smiling that Jongin thought his cheeks were thinner. Jongin had years to engrave the memory of Chanyeol’s grin in his mind. The videos he’d found at Chanyeol’s home also helped keep it alive. But when he looked at the man in the bed, he seemed like a different person.
Grass. River Han. Someone on a bike. Someone running. A dog barking. Jongin’s face. ‘Enough, hyung.’ Jongin’s hand. Darkness. Chanyeol’s face. Chanyeol’s smile. Chanyeol’s laughter.
“Where are you?” Jongin whispered. Chanyeol was right in front of him. But the Chanyeol Jongin wanted back was nowhere to be seen. The man Jongin missed was light in Jongin’s life. The man in the bed was darkness.
Jongin sighed, sliding his finger off the book and leaving it on top of the bed. He, then, placed his hand on top of Chanyeol’s. It was warm. Sometimes, when he did that, Chanyeol’s hand would twitch or react. Dr. Kim had explained that it was a natural reaction, a few nerves that were still active. The doctor wasn’t a man that gave baseless hope. The fact that he insisted on keeping Chanyeol in the ward and doing the tests was what gave Jongin hope.
This time no finger twitched. Jongin took a deep breath.
“I miss you so much,” he spoke. It was hard for the words to come out. He had to push himself hard to openly tell Chanyeol what he was feeling. His shaking hands were proof of that. “So fucking much. Yeol…” He took a deep breath. “I want you back in my life. I want to see you smile again and talk and… just…” His voice cracked before he thought he could continue.
He stayed in silence for a few moments, gathering the courage to say what he had come to say that day.
“I love you.”
When people say those words, they expect an answer, a reaction, a reciprocation or a rejection. Jongin couldn’t hope for any of that. So he just let the words come out and felt how the constriction inside his chest was liberated. He was shaking more than before, but he kept breathing deeply until his body relaxed.
“I love you, as more than a friend. I want you to stay with me my whole life. I’m so sorry I never realized it before, nor said it out loud for you to hear it.” He chuckled. “You probably don’t feel the same way, so it might be better this way. I wouldn’t like to see the pity in your eyes when you tell me that you love me, but as your best friend.”
It pained Jongin to think about that, but he felt better after saying it out loud.
As he didn’t need to stay to hear an answer, he stood up weakly and picked up the book. Chanyeol showed no sign of a reaction. Jongin stared at him, taking in his resting face. His cheekbones were more prominent as the natural chubbiness of his cheeks had disappeared. Since his eyes were closed, the only things that remained the same were his ears, his nose and his lips. Jongin’s eyes stayed on Chanyeol’s mouth. His lips were slightly open as he breathed in and out. They still looked plump. It made Jongin realize that he had noticed Chanyeol’s lips before without even knowing it.
It might have been his only chance to do it, so Jongin leaned in forwards to place his own lips over Chanyeol’s.
The kiss was short; it was just a peck. Chanyeol, once again, didn’t react. That broke Jongin more than not getting an answer to his confession. He wanted a twitch, of Chanyeol’s lips or his face. Any reaction would have made Jongin feel better.
But Chanyeol remained motionless, asleep.
Jongin stepped away before more tears could fall from his eyes. He needed fresh air soon to overcome the pain that no matter what he did, Chanyeol was still going to be in that bed, leaving Jongin alone in the world. Because even if Jongin had friends, family and people around him, none of them were Chanyeol.
Yet, from then on, the words “I love you” and a kiss to Chanyeol’s lips became a routine the same way reading to him had become.
At the next test session, Jongin sat down in the same chair, looking at Chanyeol. Again, all he could see was his lower body. He patiently waited for the doctor and the technician to set up everything they needed and, when they were done, Dr. Kim slid the microphone over to Jongin’s side.
Jongin’s words came easily; he was ready for it. This time it was The Stranger by Albert Camus. Jongin didn’t like the story much, but he didn’t read for himself; he read for Chanyeol. The more he read, the closer he felt to his best friend.
“I was assailed by memories of a life that wasn't mine anymore, but one in which I'd found the simplest and most lasting joys: the smells of summer, the part of town I loved, a certain evening sky, Marie's dresses and the way she laughed,” were the words that Jongin read. The images conjured, though, had very little to do with the book. Instead of Marie’s dresses, Jongin saw Chanyeol’s hoodies. A town in France was replaced by an evening by the river Han.
When the reading was over, Jongin felt the urge to speak again and say what he said after every visit. “I-” He couldn’t. He couldn’t say those words in front of other people.
Dr. Kim waited for a moment. But when Jongin didn’t continue his sentence, he pointed at the screen. “Still the same. He understands.” The zone of the brain that was colored was not enough for Jongin to feel better, when the zone that he wanted to see with colors was dark, inactive. “When he wakes up,” the doctor continued.
If he wakes up, Jongin thought.
“We’ll have to see if this zone is active then,” Dr. Kim finished his explanation. Jongin nodded in understanding. “That’s it for today then. You can tell him goodbye now.” The man said while gathering his notes as the technician took care of the computer.
“Chanyeol… I’m gonna go now. I’ll be back soon… uhm… I…” It was harder to say those words with an audience, especially where he lived.
“Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim startled him by placing his hand on Jongin’s shoulder. “We assure you confidentiality. What is said within these walls is part of Chanyeol’s personal life. We keep quiet about that.” From the way the doctor spoke, it seemed like he knew what Jongin was going to say.
Jongin nodded and looked forward at Chanyeol’s body. Then, he leaned again into the microphone. “I love you.” His voice was as quiet as it always was when he said it.
“Pity I can’t tell the nurses,” said Dr. Kim with a knowing smile. “They’ve been gossiping about this for a long time.” He chuckled.
Jongin felt himself flush and lowered his head. He wasn’t so much uncomfortable about people talking about him; it was more about people knowing how he felt before he even did. Dr. Kim was kind enough to not say anything else. They walked out of the room together, but Jongin greeted him and left on his own.
A chair. A hand. Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s guitar. Chanyeol on the chair. Chanyeol’s fingers on his guitar. ‘I wrote this song for you.’ Chanyeol looking at the camera. ‘To say everything I don’t dare to say out loud’. The first chords of a song. Music. Chanyeol biting his lip. Music. Chanyeol looking at the camera. Chanyeol’s voice. Lyrics. Words. Words that speak of friendship. Words that speak of love. Words that confess. Words that tell. Music. Chanyeol’s fingers on his guitar. Chanyeol looking at the camera. Words. Words that repeat themselves.
Words that Jongin had said time and time again by Chanyeol’s bed.
’I’m a coward. I don’t know if I’ll ever say this to you. How much I love you and how much you mean to me. I don’t know if i’ll ever sing this song for you. For now, I’m recording this video, hoping it’ll encourage me to say I love you, Jongin.
The video stopped when Chanyeol got up and stretched his arm towards the camera. Jongin sat alone in the empty living room on Chanyeol’s spot on the couch. Shaky breaths leaving his mouth, he sat there staring at the dark screen. He felt cold. If Chanyeol’s words had been said face to face, he would feel warmer, much warmer. Without him, all Jongin felt was coldness spreading through his body, making him shiver.
Chanyeol had written a love song for Jongin, which he never got to hear while Chanyeol was awake. Chanyeol had been in love with him and never once said a thing about it. Jongin remembered all their shared moments trying to find hints of it. If he focused on the details he remembered, he could find it, in the way Chanyeol looked at him, or in the way he didn’t. He had known how he felt long before Jongin did.
It had taken Jongin only a few weeks to accept his own feelings, though. Once he started thinking of his best friend in a different way, everything fell into place. A change of perspective made him see Chanyeol not as a friend, but as something deeper than that. It made sense that he was in love with him. He had had Jongin’s heart in his hands for a very long time.
Jongin wondered if it had been like that for Chanyeol too. Or if the realization of his feelings had brought him sadness or pain. Whether it had been difficult to accept them or not. Whether he had told someone else.
Sitting in the silence of the empty living room, Jongin let what he learned from the video called ‘Sing for you’ settle in his mind. He couldn’t feel the joy of finding out his feelings were reciprocated, because at that moment, they weren’t. Chanyeol wasn’t there with him to say the words. He felt cold and empty and, before leaving the house, he picked out another hoodie from Chanyeol’s closet.
Jongin was in the studio when his phone rang. The name on the screen was Yura’s. They didn’t speak often, so the fact that she was calling at an unusual time made him uneasy. He felt Yixing’s curious eyes on his face as he stared down at the phone in his hand.
Before the call could end, he swiped the screen and spoke.
“Noona?”
“Jonginnie,” she said softly. She always sounded like that whenever she spoke with him. “How are you? Did you eat?” Her words were the usual ones, but her voice was different.
“No, I didn’t, noona. You?” He considered asking her out for a meal together.
“Oh! I did… Uhm…” Her hesitation unsettled him.
He stared at Yixing’s back as the other man left the room. Jongin was thankful for his thoughtfulness. In the lone room, he could hear his own breathing clearly.
“Is everything okay, noona?”
A car honked on the other side of the line. “Uhm.. Yes.” She paused. “I’ve got some news.” Before Jongin could ask, she blurted out her reason for calling. “Chanyeol’s awake.”
Jongin felt his heart skip a beat. He had been dreaming about hearing those words for a really long time, years, actually. But mostly, he had been dreaming of being there to see it. The clock on the wall showed him it was long past visiting hours.
“Wh-what?”
“He is awake, Jonginnie.” And she sounded like herself again, when she spoke to Jongin, so fond and caring, like the older sister he inherited through Chanyeol.
“When?” He couldn’t even make full sentences.
“Just now.” So he was alone. “I was called by the doctor. I’m on my way to the hospital. Are you in the studio? I can pick you up.” He noticed all the street noises in the background. “He told me to let you know. Dr. Kim did.” Jongin heard Dr. Kim’s voice inside his mind.
He felt weak. Sitting down on the floor, not caring for the chairs in the room, he took a few deep breaths. “Noona, don’t… the phone… when you’re driving.” He knew he wasn’t coherent. All he could think of was the accident.
“Sorry! I was just… I really needed to call you.” He could hear the smile through her voice. “I haven’t called my parents yet.” She chuckled, trying to conceal the cracks in her voice. “What a bad daughter!”
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you for telling me.” He was clutching the phone with both hands.
“I’ll be there in 10,” was what she said last before ending the call.
Jongin let his hands fall to his lap. He sat there in the room alone, letting the information sink in.
Chanyeol was awake. He woke up by himself after years of being asleep, as his mother kept saying. Now, Jongin would be able to listen to him, see him smile, hear his laugh. Chanyeol was back.
Even though Jongin tried to control his anxiety, it was still there when he crossed through the door to Chanyeol’s room. He felt it in his fast beating heart, his sweaty palms that he kept running over his jeans, and the pricking in his eyes, a sign of tears that could fall out at any moment.
Yura walked in before him and she headed straight to the bed, ready to hug Chanyeol. She enveloped her brother, who remained still looking confused. Chanyeol wasn’t looking at Jongin; he was paying attention to the woman in his arms. Awkwardly patting her back, he started to lean away, wincing probably because of pain. As his hands dropped from her, she sobbed loudly. When they separated, though, he grinned at her.
Jongin stood there in silence, watching the siblings exchange smiles, recognition painting Chanyeol’s face. His friend’s face had definitely changed over time; he had lost weight. But he was still the same person. As always, a smile on Chanyeol’s face was contagious; Jongin could feel his own widening. Chanyeol’s eyes shined brightly. He was awake. Jongin could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest waiting for the moment Chanyeol would look at him.
At the end of the bed, Dr. Kim stood and his hand sign called Jongin’s attention, motioning him to step closer. Jongin did. That’s when Chanyeol’s eyes turned from his sister to him.
A deep breath made Jongin’s chest shake, as Chanyeol’s eyes focused on him. His friend was silent. He didn’t need to say anything, though. All he had to do was grin widely, openly, the way Jongin remembered, for Jongin to throw himself at him.
Sobbing and laughing at the same time, Jongin held Chanyeol tightly, to make sure it wasn’t a dream. He could hear the deep rumble in Chanyeol’s chest, as his friend laughed too. The deep voice Jongin had learned to love sounded hoarse. Years of not being used caused that. Jongin could now allow himself to hope for more things, for example, for Chanyeol’s voice to sound familiar again.
“Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim cleared his throat. It made Jongin break away slowly from Chanyeol, keeping a strong grip on his hand. “Chanyeol-ssi?” The doctor then looked at his patient. “You remember who he is, don’t you?”
Chanyeol tilted his head, frowning his eyebrows. The doctor repeated the question twice before Chanyeol replied. It was a garbled sound, ininteligible. He was nodding and his face showed a confused expression. Jongin’s hold on Chanyeol’s hand weakened. Their linked hands plopped on the bed, making Chanyeol turn curiously to look at him. Then, his friend opened his mouth, but all that came were strange sounds, with a hoarse voice. These sounds were meant to be words, words with meanings. But Jongin couldn’t understand them. That’s when it hit him, that Chanyeol couldn’t speak. Even if he tried, even if the sounds came out of his mouth, he couldn’t speak.
“This side is not active. This is the speech production zone. He might understand you, but he can’t reply.” Jongin remembered. He knew then why Dr. Kim insisted on taking the tests.
Chanyeol couldn’t speak.
Before Jongin could react or say anything, the door of the room opened to give way to Chanyeol’s parents. Yura stood by Jongin’s side, quietly pulling him away from Chanyeol. He was too shocked to do anything but let her. As always, Yura became Jongin’s support when Chanyeol couldn’t.
Chanyeol’s mother sobbed loudly when the doctor explained the situation to them.
“But… he’s a singer,” she said quietly, looking at her son, who she was sitting next to.
“Chanyeol-ssi, do you understand what we’re saying?” Dr. Kim focused back on his patient.
After a few minutes, Chanyeol nodded and it pained Jongin to see that he understood, even with a bit of difficulty. His smile had fallen the moment his mother started sobbing when he had tried to call her, when he had tried to say something and all that came out were garbled, gibberish sounds.
It took a while for Jongin to realize that despite the shock, something was going back to normal. Chanyeol’s voice didn’t sound hoarse anymore. It was starting to sound like his again, familiar to Jongin.
“You’ll stay in the clinic for a while longer, Chanyeol-ssi. We will need to run many more tests. I will leave you with your family and friend alone.” The doctor spoke slowly and stopped between each sentence to give Chanyeol time to understand him. Then, he gave Jongin a sympathetic smile before leaving the room.
As Chanyeol’s parents logically took up all of his attention, Jongin decided to step away quietly and wait in the hall. The moment he plopped down on one of the chairs, he realized how drained he felt. He hadn’t spent much time in that room, but he still felt tired, extremely exhausted. He sighed letting his head fall backwards, softly hitting the wall. He kept working on regulating his breathing.
Chanyeol was awake, but he couldn’t speak. Maybe Jongin was being greedy by wanting him to be fully recovered so soon after having woken up. Yet, it was hard to think about Chanyeol and know that he wouldn’t be talking as he used to. Chanyeol expressed himself through a thousand words and a really loud voice. Jongin was not prepared for a quiet Chanyeol. Because once it dawned on him, Chanyeol would stop trying to talk.
Little by little, Chanyeol gained back the mobility of his body after the years in bed. Jongin was there in every step of the way, directing assuring smiles at him, hoping his friend wouldn’t notice how weird he felt whenever strange sounds left his mouth. But Chanyeol did and he would smile awkwardly at him, to which Jongin responded with a simple touch. Surprisingly to Jongin, since Chanyeol woke up, their relationship became a lot more physical. All that they couldn’t express through words, they did through their hands. There were words Jongin wanted to say out loud and hear from Chanyeol too, but he knew those would have to wait.
Jongin added two more days to his visits, since Chanyeol needed the company. His friend’s eyes lit up whenever Jongin entered the room, usually expecting Jongin to bring something for him, either food or a book. Chanyeol couldn’t speak, but his reading comprehension still worked, slower but still worked, not his writing though, Dr. Kim explained to them once.
One day, Chanyeol surprised Jongin by saying one single, clear word. He asked for his guitar. Jongin swallowed down his emotions, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He asked the nurses if he could bring it, but apologetically, they didn’t allow it.
“Besides, he can wait a little bit more,” nurse Soojung told him, winking at him.
From the doors of the elevator, Yura and Dr. Kim stepped out together. When Yura saw Jongin, she sped up to greet him with a wide grin on her face. Her smile was really similar to her brother’s, she was as cheerful as he was. Jongin could see why men would fall for her, the same reasons he fell for her brother.
“Jongin-ssi.” Dr. Kim joined them. “Shall we go to see Chanyeol?” He gestured at the end of the corridor, where Chanyeol’s room was.
As they walked, Jongin could feel Yura’s eyes on him. Before he could cross through the door to the room, she stopped him.
“Jonginnie,” she said, but nothing else followed. Jongin looked at her face. She couldn’t contain her joy; it was written all over her face, in her eyes especially. And somehow it was as contagious as it was confusing.
“Jongin-ssi,” Dr. Kim called his attention. The doctor looked at him in a more serene way than Yura. But he couldn’t hide his pleased smile either. “Before we enter to see Chanyeol, I have good news.” Jongin’s heart started beating faster, waiting for him to continue. “Since he’s been improving physically, we can no longer keep him. He’ll be free to go home after we discharge him.”
Jongin’s ears rang as the news settled inside of him. Before he could reply, Yura hugged him excitedly. “He’s going home,” she whispered in his ear. Jongin’s hands fell slowly on her back and he hid his grin on her shoulder.
When they broke away, Jongin wondered out loud about Chanyeol’s parents and Yura explained they were on their way.
Dr. Kim then stepped in between to get inside the room. Yura and Jongin followed him. Chanyeol was on the bed, changing channels on the TV screen. When he saw them coming in, he greeted them all with a smile and wave. Then, he bowed to Dr. Kim.
Jongin paid attention to his face. It had been a few weeks since he woke up and his cheeks were already filling in again. As he grinned widely at Jongin, his cheekbones raised high and Jongin felt his heart flutter. The energy Chanyeol showed was enough for Jongin to start feeling like himself again. The light he wanted was back with Chanyeol’s eyes wide open and silly grin on his face.
“Chanyeol-ssi,” Dr. Kim started. “You’re in good form,” he said with a kind smile. Chanyeol didn’t say anything, but nodded, clearly proud of the doctor’s words. That seemed a lot more like the Chanyeol Jongin loved. “We have good news.”
Jongin could see Yura fidgeting excitedly, holding Chanyeol’s hand in hers. She turned to her brother and spoke with a broken voice, “You’re going home.” Jongin saw the tears falling from her eyes and felt his own pricking.
Chanyeol sat still, looking from one person to the other in the room. He didn’t react until he stopped and stared at Jongin. Once Jongin assured him with a nod that it was the truth, Chanyeol crushed his sister in a hug. Both of them were shaking, quietly crying in happiness. When Chanyeol pulled away, he turned to Jongin and motioned at him to step close with a hand gesture and red puffy eyes. Jongin’s tears fell as he was enveloped by Chanyeol’s arms. He could feel warm and comfort take away the last few years of pain and sadness. He could feel Chanyeol coming back into Jongin’s life.
There was only one thing missing.
After a few minutes, Dr. Kim spoke again, slowly as always. “You’ll have to do a few exercises at home to regain full and complete mobility. The accident didn’t cause much damage on your body. You’ll be in excellent condition soon enough.”
Chanyeol nodded as he understood each sentence and was about to reply, when he remembered he couldn’t and closed his mouth. Jongin was sitting on the bed by his side. He placed a hand on his back, rubbing soothingly, and Chanyeol directed a thankful smile at him. His big eyes were still red from so close. Then, he took Jongin’s hand and held it.
A knock on the door interrupted them.
“There he is,” Dr. Kim said as he walked to let whoever was outside in.
A short man with dark hair and a strong set of eyebrows entered the room. He looked familiar to Jongin, and when the man spoke in greeting, it clicked. He had met Dr. Do Kyungsoo the same day he started the tests about three months before.
“Dr. Do here will be taking care of your speech rehabilitation,” Dr. Kim explained patting the man’s shoulder. Yura stood up from the edge of Chanyeol’s bed and bowed at the other doctor. “First, he’ll diagnose Chanyeol better than I could. He’s an expert and I’ve kept him informed since you woke up, Chanyeol-ssi.”
“As far as I know, Park Chanyeol-ssi, you have an inability to formulate language. I have a set of tests and work for your treatment once we detect what type of Aphasia you have.”
The man’s voice sounded serious. He didn’t seem like a man who would like Chanyeol, but his friend could charm almost anyone and Jongin looked forward to seeing them together. Also, the doctor’s words gave him the hope he was missing. He squeezed Chanyeol’s hand in excitement, thinking that maybe Chanyeol would be able to speak again.
Not long after, Chanyeol’s parents arrived. Jongin greeted them politely. Chanyeol’s father grabbed his shoulder and quietly spoke to him before even going to see his son. “Thank you for always being here for him, for us, Jonginnie.” Jongin bowed, but he couldn’t reply. He was overwhelmed by all the good news and how much things were going to change.
The only thing that wasn’t going to change was what Jongin felt for Chanyeol. He hadn’t said the words again since Chanyeol woke up. It took a lot of courage to think about his feelings again while Chanyeol was going through his recovery. Jongin was first and foremost Chanyeol’s best friend, his pillar, his strength and company. Bringing his feelings to light was selfish when Chanyeol should focus completely on himself.
The sunlight filtered through the windows, showing the usual dust particles that Chanyeol’s messy house had always had. The furniture was no longer covered. The TV hadn’t been touched much since Chanyeol returned to his home, but the couch was already as dented as it had been before the accident. The twin traces of both Chanyeol and Jongin were there for everyone to see. The house was alive once again.
Chanyeol wasn’t ready to go back to his job as a music teacher. Jongin could see it in the way he held his guitar and stared at it quietly, sometimes playing a few chords, but most times lost in his own mind.
A keyboard. Hands. White keys. Black keys. Music. Fingers dancing along the keys. A deep voice. Arms. Chanyeol’s face. Music. Chanyeol singing. ‘Hyung, you’re great!’ Chanyeol’s smile. ‘I know, Jonginnie.’ Music. Words. More music. Chanyeol’s voice.
Jongin wanted to help him, that’s why he spent so much time with Chanyeol. Their friends came to visit often, like Baekhyun for example, but none of them stayed as long as Jongin did. One day Chanyeol asked Jongin to stay the night; that night Jongin slept uncomfortably on the old couch.
After that, it became more common for Jongin to stay with Chanyeol. It was so easy to fall into a routine. Years of going to the hospital to visit him became nights at Chanyeol’s house keeping him company. His friend’s smiled widened every time Jongin told him he would be staying. Jongin felt at home; it was home because Chanyeol was there with him.
Their conversations were short and one-sided. It was mostly Jongin asking questions and Chanyeol nodding or shaking his head. His comprehension was improving quite fast, yet his speech was still limited to no more than a few words. Whenever Jongin got back from work at the studio, he would tell Chanyeol about his day. His friend would listen attentively. At first it felt strange for Jongin to be the one to do all the talking, but Chanyeol’s fascinated look made him loosen up. When Jongin asked him one day what was so interesting about what he was saying, Chanyeol shook his head with a smile and shiny eyes.
The way Chanyeol looked at him reminded him of Chanyeol’s words, of the song he never got to hear live.
Rain was pouring as Jongin ran to Chanyeol’s house. The huge black hoodie clung onto his body getting wetter by the second. A misstep he made splashed water on his shoe. He ran as fast as he could to get to his best friend's house, thinking of a nice shower and a warm house, a place where he could be protected from the storm. Chanyeol probably wouldn't mind sharing more clothes with him that he already did.
Jongin looked up at the dark clouds above him. It didn't matter if they stayed there in the sky, as long as he got to Chanyeol’s house safely.
He put in the code to the door the moment he reached it and shook his head right before stepping inside to get rid of the water.
“Yeol!” He greeted loudly. He waited to see if there was any sound in the house to show him that Chanyeol was there.
A loud crash came from the studio room and Jongin hoped none of the instruments were harmed. An equally loud groan was heard right after, making Jongin chuckle. He walked towards the room, but before he reached the door, Chanyeol popped up from it with a wide grin on his face. When he noticed Jongin’s state, he frowned and pushed him in the direction of the bathroom.
“Wait! How about take-out for dinner?” Jongin asked, with Chanyeol’s hands on his shoulders pushing him forward.
“Hmm!” Chanyeol agreed.
“Good. I’ll call after a shower,” Jongin said. “Oh! Can you lend me some clothes?” He turned around and met Chanyeol’s judging stare, who looked down at the black hoodie Jongin was wearing. A soft smile was on his lips as he nodded and gestured at Jongin to go shower.
After a nice, warm shower, Jongin wrapped himself in Chanyeol’s freshly cleaned clothes. Another hoodie to drown himself in. As he stepped out of the bathroom to go find his phone, he heard the clear sound of the guitar strings being played. He didn’t recognize the song, but the melody pulled him towards the studio, like if it were calling him.
He didn’t walk in because he didn’t want to interrupt Chanyeol. His friend replaced what could have been words with humming in his characteristic deep voice. It was a very soothing melody. As Jongin stayed there listening he began to realize that it was familiar, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it was from.
Chanyeol’s humming became a little bit louder. And it clicked.
Words that repeat themselves.
It was Chanyeol’s song for him. Jongin leaned heavily against the wall by the door, taking deep breaths. He tried to focus on his breathing to stop himself from crying, but his eyes were soon burning. The moment the first tear fell, he started shaking. Chanyeol remembered the song.
A sob escaped his mouth before he could stop it. The music stopped abruptly and rushed steps came closer to the door. Chanyeol’s surprised face popped up from inside the room. That’s all Jongin saw before lowering his head to hide his tears. But he couldn’t hide his shaking body, which Chanyeol quickly pulled into a hug. Jongin buried himself into his chest, while his friend rubbed soothing circles on his back. It was clear that he didn’t know what was going on.
Once Jongin calmed down, he took a step back, wiping his tears.
“Sorry,” he said.
Chanyeol opened his mouth. Jongin knew what he wanted to ask. Instead of replying, he walked towards the bedroom still taking shaky breaths, followed closely behind by Chanyeol. He opened the closet. He was familiar with everything inside of it, from the hoodies to the snapbacks to the old shoe box, which he took in his hands. When he turned to his friend, Chanyeol had a curious smile on his face.
“Come on,” Jongin’s voice didn’t crack.
He gestured at Chanyeol to sit down on the couch, while he turned on the TV. From the box, he took the video that he had only dared to play a few times. It was hard to listen to Chanyeol’s confession. This time, he put it in and leaned back. He didn’t dare to sit on the couch with Chanyeol.
As soon as the video started playing and the image of Chanyeol and his guitar appeared on the screen, Jongin heard a loud gasp coming from behind. From the corner of his eye, he saw Chanyeol leaning forward in his seat. Jongin was gripping his sweatpants tightly, waiting for the video to end.
When it was over, Jongin spoke quietly, “Do you remember this?” Chanyeol’s affirmative hum was clear. Jongin exhaled before turning around. “Do you-?” He didn’t even know what he wanted to ask.
Chanyeol was sitting still on the couch, eyes wide open. Years of close friendship let Jongin see that Chanyeol was afraid. So he stood up and walked towards him. He took a seat on his usual place, right next to Chanyeol.
“Do you… still feel this way?” Jongin’s heart was beating loudly inside his chest as he stared at his linked hands in his lap. These seconds of silence and expectation were hurting him. As Chanyeol couldn’t explain himself in words, it hurt even more.
Suddenly, a hand touched his cheek, turning him to face Chanyeol. A nod, two nods. Chanyeol was nodding. His eyes were round, as open as he had always been with Jongin. It brought relief to Jongin. He held Chanyeol’s hand in place as they stared at each other.
They leaned forward at the same time, mouths meeting on the way. For the first time, Chanyeol was kissing back. The hand on his cheek moved to his nape to pull him even closer. Through this kiss they discovered new things about each other. Jongin had never known that Chanyeol preferred kissing his lower lip more than his upper one. He didn’t expect that he himself would enjoy nibbling on Chanyeol’s lips so much. The breathy laugh that came from Chanyeol’s mouth made him smile. They separated only to kiss again. Chanyeol settled back on the couch pulling Jongin along on top of him.
They still had a lot of things to talk about. Jongin still had to declare to Chanyeol what he felt, but his mouth was too busy to focus on that. He let his action speak more than his words, as he poured everything he felt while Chanyeol had been asleep on a hospital bed. They would have time later on to talk, or gesture. It didn’t matter.
Chanyeol was awake.
Author's Note: The machine used for the tests is this one and Chanyeol’s impairment is loosely Expressive Aphasia.