CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
( In Loving Memory )

JAEHWA AWAKENS TO silence. It has become a recurring theme, the empty halls of the Cha household. A lumbering body, half-dead and half-asleep, Jaehwa drags herself out of her bed, changes into her uniform, and walks the agonizing steps into the kitchen, where there is no one to greet her.

The fridge is a reflective shade of steel blue, void of the old crayon drawings and stick figures of a young dreamer. The present Jaehwa burned them all one crazed night, when the haunting face of someone she once knew mirrored from her retinas to every surface, and her old art projects were given the death penalty.

The girl closes the fridge with less appetite than she first opened it with, squirming in her school uniform. The cold grey skirt and dark maroon jacket feel so off against her skin, as though she is playing a part that she doesn't deserve. Everything seems to grate against her skin, unnerving and hellish.

( With every step, the skin Jaehwa wears begins to slowly tear ).

She sews herself up to the best of her ability, returning the old stuffing back into her flesh, the zipper cold against her skin, and tilts a carnal smile that wilts along the edges, more grimace than anything.

And Jaehwa pictures herself, once blooming like the orchids on the too-cold dinner table, a reflective surface of all she has known. All that remains is what she can say she has; No one.

The gloomy outside greets her when she shuts her door, slinging her brand-new backpack over her shoulders. Her old bag had ripped over its constant use hauling anything from books to food containers back and forth between home and the hospital.

The tilt to her shoulders is gone, a reminder of the months prior. She holds the straps close, tightly, letting the ache of her body linger into the plush material and sink away into the pavement.

Everything is busy. The noise seeps into Jaehwa's head, thumping an ill rhythm against her brain. She slips on her headphones, her gaze trained on the shiny black loafers that seem to crush her toes into shape. One at a time, her feet begin to move; Down the hall, into the elevator, and out of the apartment complex.

The suffocating walls breathe; Jaehwa cannot seem to gather enough air in her lungs to do the same. She holds her breath, fingers tapping erratically against her skirt, until the light flashes and the doors open. She can breathe again.

She looks back at the drab walls and silent units. Part of her wishes that those inside were miserable throughout, just like her. With every hum of the bass ringing in her ears, Jaehwa gets further away from her house. Further away from the silence, further away from the incessant noise, further away from what consumes her.

It takes her half an hour to get to the bus stop. She tucks herself into a corner on the bus bench despite its lack of inhabitants. The morning air is crisp, rippling through Jaehwa's hair with a slight tangle to her dark strands. She doesn't bother pushing her overgrown bangs away from her face.

In her isolation, Jaehwa thinks of what her afternoon entails. Hunching over Ahn Suho's bedside, trying to solve her homework problems to no avail. Feeling the smallest spark of joy as she remembers a funny joke, only for it to dim down once she realizes the one she tells it to can't laugh along.

She finds that it doesn't sadden her as much as it used to. There is nothing left for the parasite of her grief to devour, and so she is left an empty carcass of all that she once hid. A feeling so circular, soon becoming sharp and routine. The grief remains, but it no longer feeds. There is only ache.

"Good morning." A mellow voice interrupts, and a warm body takes its place beside Jaehwa.

She looks up at last; Yeon Si-eun stares at her with rapt attention, his tired eyes blinking.

"Morning." She hums, her eyes gliding down the dips and grooves of her friend's gaunt face. Her fingers slide her headphones down from her ears to rest against her neck. "You're early."

Purple and blues paint his droopy eyes, every blink slow. Jaehwa has to avert her gaze from his, too afraid that she'll topple over and drown within them.

( There is no light to guide her out this time ).

Si-eun's lips purse together. His reactions have grown delayed, as though they spend more time culminating in his mind than they do being said aloud. "I didn't want you to be alone."

The semblance of a smile flits across Jaehwa's worn face before fading into the frown that has eroded her features. His sentiment is almost hilarious. Jaehwa has never felt more alone than now.

"You didn't have to." She murmurs, her redesigned version of a 'Thank you'.

"I wanted to," Si-eun says quietly as his head droops slightly in a nod.

The cold, unforgiving air begins to seep through Jaehwa's uniform with the silence. She can still hear the faint hum of the music coming from her headphones, and she focuses on that instead of hypotheticals and guilt and everything in between.

His statement is left unanswered, too heavy for Jaehwa to possibly carry.

"Sleep meds not working again?" She breaks the silence when it gets too heavy, instead turning to glance at Si-eun's clammy palms and impeccably ironed uniform.

She travels her way upwards, outlining his name tag with her eyes, his tie, the curve of his soft jaw, his chapped lips. It always brings her back to the same haunting eyes, staring at her, through her.

( When she blinks, sometimes Ahn Suho is the one staring back at her ).

"No." Si-eun replies with a shake of his head. "I got a new prescription."

The soft wind blows strands of his hair into his eyes. For a second, Jaehwa catches her breath, her presence unseen to everyone at that feeble moment. Lately, words have been failing her.

Seeing Yeon Si-eun spiral feels almost comforting. It makes her angry, but she finds cruel comfort in their shared existence, their shared secrets. When the rage and emptiness culminate between two bodies, churning and twisting and seething, but never to the point of eruption, never enough. Suho is what joined them together, and he is inevitably what keeps them tethered to one another.

( A tragedy, and yet, the birth of something beautiful ).

Yeon Si-eun understands the predicament in harsher, realistic terms. Jaehwa holds onto the sentiment like an addict to drugs, knowing it's a lost cause and yet continuing to fall into what she knows will only break her. He wants not to feel better, but to fish Jaehwa out of the water and dry her, to keep her by his side, the only remaining piece in a lost puzzle. There is no use for it. Only as a keepsake. A reminder.

"You should see someone." Si-eun suggests as the minutes tick by, Jaehwa's silence digging something awful into his ribcage. A once silent boy, Si-eun finds he abhors the quiet now.

Jaehwa blinks, taken aback by the absurdities leaving the mouth of her friend. "As in?"

"A therapist." He hums quietly. He sees the girl's hands tighten into fists at the suggestion.

The amnesiac shakes her head, trying and failing to keep her face from forming a scowl. "I don't need a therapist. I'm fine."

Si-eun sighs. He has tried, but it takes more strength than he can muster to convince Cha Jaehwa of anything. She has grown stubborn over the weeks, angry, frigid.

( As though she wants to be the raging Winter that consumes them all ).

"Okay." He concedes when the bus pulls up at last, screeching to a halt in front of them. "Just consider it."

They slowly climb into the bus, scanning their cards and shuffling to the back seats. Jaehwa takes the window seat; Si-eun settles next to her, his eyes still lingering on her face for a few seconds too long.

"Don't give me that look." She snaps, crossing her arms over her jacket.

"I'm not giving you a look." The boy murmurs, raising his brows. His voice is unenthusiastic, as their conversations always seem to be.

Jaehwa frowns and slips on her headphones, raising the volume. She doesn't want to listen to Si-eun anymore. He's foolish if he thinks a therapist will solve all of Jaehwa's problems.

( It's not like they've solved any of his either ).

She keeps her gaze trained on the window for the short ride, pushing down the clawing feeling of her rudeness. Si-eun is, after all, her only friend.

Beyond that, he is the only one who understands.

When her rage simmers down, she turns to face him, only to find him slumped against her, his shoulder pressing her own, eyes fluttered shut.

She frowns but says nothing of it when they reach their stop, and Si-eun blinks awake, unaware of his actions.

( They can both pretend, but they both know they are just as rotten as the other ).
‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎ ‎

‎

‎

WHEN YEON SI-EUN doesn't answer any of Jaehwa's calls or texts, she takes it as a sign that their friendship is finally falling apart.

It should've happened sooner, she reasons. They are both hollow shells who've stopped searching for fulfillment, wandering aimlessly for the sake of inhabiting the earthly plane.

Still, she waits for Yeon Si-eun at the junction of their two schools, leaning against a telephone pole, her foot tapping the floor rhythmically. One-two-three-thud. The noise echoes in her ears. It reminds her of the steady heartbeat readings on the monitor. It reminds her of holding her breath to see how long she can last without air.

Surprisingly, he does show. His brows are pinched, a flicker of emotion on his usually dull face. Jaehwa raises her eyes from her phone and stares at him intently as he approaches.

"I called and texted a million times." She crosses her arms, the straps of her backpack tightening slightly around her shoulders.

Si-eun's face morphs into a variety of emotions that Jaehwa hardly sees in him; Irritation, sympathy, and the ever-constant linger of melancholy beneath his watercolor eyes.

"I lost my phone." He lies. Something tugs at his mind, and he thinks of all the lies he had told Cha Jaehwa in the past.

( If he could do it then, what stops him from doing it now? )

He falls into sidestep with Jaehwa, who has already started walking, her pace sharp and brisk. She echoes Si-eun's reply, not believing him in the slightest. "You lost it?"

The boy nods. Unsurprisingly, Jaehwa doesn't believe a single word.

"You..." She pokes his chest firmly. "lost your phone?"

A broken record, he nods once more. Jaehwa sighs in exasperation.

"You are so..." She trails off, not being able to find the word. Irresponsible is certainly not it; Yeon Si-eun is far from careless. Her sentence dies off.

Their footsteps echo dully against the pavement, and Jaehwa steps on every crack in the sidewalk. The idea of superstition is laughable. There is no worse punishment than the current state of her life, she thinks.

When they reach the bus stop, Yeon Si-eun lingers, a dying breath amidst the bustling life, shifting between shadows and gaunt faces.

"You're not coming?" Jaehwa asks as the bus comes to a halt in front of them, and Si-eun remains sitting on the bench.

He looks at her — Though most of the time it feels as though he's looking for her, or rather, for who she used to be — And shakes his head.

"Not today." He says, just loud enough for her to hear. His words are usually only meant for Jaehwa, as though encoded in a secret language only she can decipher. "I have to do something."

"Will you visit later?" She asks again, stepping onto the bus. The hospital, she wants to add, but is pressured into silence by the fear that gnaws at her throat. If she says it aloud, that means it'll become real.

"Maybe." Is his reply. "But you'll be home by then."

Jaehwa stares at Si-eun pointedly. They both know that for her, home is now the sturdy hospital chairs in Ahn Suho's room. 

"I can wait." Her voice barely makes it out of the bus doors before they shut, and the two are separated by a thick glass wall.

She doesn't hear what Si-eun says after that, but she hurries to her seat, eyes trailing on the shrinking body of her friend as it grows smaller, disappearing into the lonely distance.

Si-eun watches as Jaehwa leaves his sight. The words I don't want you to linger on his tongue.
‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎ ‎

‎

‎

THERE IS NO change when Cha Jaehwa steps into Ahn Suho's room. It is the same color, the same soft, fragile breaths echoing from a body not fit to survive on its own, the same freezing cold of the air conditioner against Jaehwa's skin.

The hospital feels more like a morgue than a place of healing. Jaehwa's fingers curl around Suho's brittle hand. Every day, he grows colder, dimmer. He begins to fade into the scratchy linen of the hospital bedsheets, molding into the gown as if it were his death attire.

"I'm here." She murmurs, aware that her words will be washed away, another echo in the room that mingles with that of the heart monitor.

( There is no place else to be ).

She settles on the hard chair, backpack tucked against her stomach, and observes the gentle rise and fall of Suho's chest. The smell of antiseptic is nauseating, coating her nostrils with a burning sensation. It makes her angry.

Suho can't breathe in these conditions, she thinks to herself.

The hours pass in silence. Cha Jaehwa seeks only presence, not words. Not ones Ahn Suho can give, anyway. She does her schoolwork atop his bed, in the small spaces where his legs aren't wide enough to cover. Her phone rings various times, filling the quiet space with an erratic buzzing, only to go straight to voicemail.

Jaehwa knows it's her mother or father, calling to ask whether she's planning on coming home.

( She will, eventually, when the sun sets and the cool afternoon becomes a cold night. When she can't see their faces harbor that bristle of regret in the darkness of what they perceive as home ).

The nurses never enter Suho's room. Almost a prohibition is the entry to such a sacred sanctuary, where only few people can bear the burden of crossing the line. Soon enough, the number of believers dwindles, and all that is left is Cha Jaehwa.

Yeon Si-eun has let fear consume him. It holds him back, lingering against the bench as he watches Ahn Suho through the small window of the door. He can no longer bear to see him up close.

( He no longer believes, and the thought makes Jaehwa unbelievably angry ).

When the analog clock mounted in the center of the room reads 8:30 PM, Jaehwa lethargically gathers her thoughts and supplies and stuffs them into her bag for tomorrow. The crinkled edges and ripped pieces rustle as she disregards their once pristine shape, molding them against her fingers and doing with them as she pleases.

She brushes Ahn Suho's hair out of his eyes ( It has grown too long, too quickly ) and with a final glance, lets go of his clammy hand.

"See you tomorrow." She murmurs as she exits, not looking back.

( She knows that Ahn Suho will not say goodbye, but she is willing to believe that he one day might ).

‎

‎
‎ ‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎ ✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE !

hello and welcome (back) to moonchild volume 2 !!

i know i dropped the volume preface a while ago but i was busy with exams and preparing to graduate (which i do so in 3 days gulp) so i didn't have the time BUT i have been slowly working on this chapter over the course of the last week and decided to publish it at last ^^

s2 of weak hero is honestly so unbelievably depressing at the beginning so i tried to capture that in my writing but idk how i did LMAO this will have to do for now

as you can probably tell it's been 26 chapters and i still can't pick a li (even though i was kinda leaning towards the throuple agenda idk anymore) so if you want to drop who you want jaehwa to end up with (or is you don't want her to end up with anyone wink wink) let me know !!!!

a decently long chap (3k) words which is long overdue so enjoy !!

special thank you to those that continue to support this silly story since vol 1 and to those that are just starting to tune in, i love u all !! mwah

next chapter will probably be more jaehwa centered (and maybe include some flashbacks who knows) so stay tuned! i think around ch 3 is when she'll meet the new gang ( aka baku, hyuntak, juntae ) so i'm excited to write that !!!

other than that pls lmk if there are any mistakes in the spelling or anything so i can fix it !

also don't b afraid to vote or comment, i will probably (very likely) reply!!!! and if you don't understand something, plsplspls lmk!! i want yall to fully understand what's going on

happy reads!

‎

─── ANNIE