Failure
is the mother of
success

Chaerin peeled her eyelid back and yawned lazily. The sun was already up and shining outside her window. Throwing back the covers, Chaerin went through her usual morning routine, which included breakfast with her grandmother, and then she was off.

She skipped down the front steps of her house one at a time.

Hop.
Hop.
Hop.

The steps ran out and Chaerin took thirty two strides (she counted) to the right of her house and up the walkway to Yoongi's front door. Her little fist rapped quickly against the stained wood and she waited impatiently, bouncing on her toes, until Grandma Min appeared and opened the door for her.

Chaerin smiled widely, "Good morning, Grandma Min!"

"Morning Chaerin," the older woman stepped aside and allowed the girl to wander inside, just like she did every day. They had both grown used to this comfortable routine. "Yoongi is upstairs."

"Okay!" Chaerin climbed up the familiar steps and turned left at the top before stopping in front of a plain white door.

She knocked. It was more of a courtesy than anything else. Yoongi didn't really care if she knocked before coming in, he told her that. But it was polite to knock so she always did. The door swung open easily, letting out a familiar little squeak.

One year.

It had been a whole year and a few months since Yoongi had moved in with his grandmother. Chaerin came over to his house every day. He didn't seem to mind her being around—and if he did, he didn't show it—so Chaerin took the opportunity to make a friend.

She liked having a friend.

"Hi Yoongi," Chaerin let herself into his room and plopped down in his desk chair. He was laying on his bed, staring up at the plain white ceiling like usual. He nodded towards her in acknowledgement but didn't say anything.

They didn't talk much, they never did when she came over. Mostly they just sat around quietly, watching TV or reading or playing some board game that Grandma Min would give them. Yoongi seemed to like the quiet and Chaerin didn't mind it, so they didn't talk much.

Chaerin made herself at home, plucking up a pen and blank paper from his desk and scribbling random lines across the unblemished surface.

Yoongi's eyes wandered over to the girl sitting at his desk. He didn't know why she kept coming over when he didn't even speak complete sentences to her. His eyebrows crinkled. Chaerin was strange. She seemed to be completely comfortable with just sitting silently in his room for hours before going back home. She was strange. But he didn't mind.

"Chaerin?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, the pen twitched between her fingers and was accidentally launched across the room. Her chubby cheeks flushed a light shade of pink.

"Yeah?" Chaerin's voice came out a bit unsteady. In all the time that they had been friends Yoongi had never been the one to start a conversation. This was a new hurdle for the both of them.

His earthy eyes locked on hers, "Why do you keep coming here?"

She froze when the question left his lips. Did he not want her to come over? Did he not like her? She had tried so hard to not be too loud or too annoying. What had she done wrong?

"W-what?" She stuttered.

"Why do you keep coming here?" He repeated. "We never do anything, you must get bored," he deadpanned. "So why do you keep coming here?"

He thought she was bored? She wasn't. But it was better than him thinking she was annoying or something of that sort. Chaerin breathed a small sigh on relief.

"I'm not bored," she whispered. "We don't need to do things, not if you don't want to," she fiddled with her fingers as she spoke. "And I come here because you're my friend," her sparkling coffee-colored eyes looked up at Yoongi with such hope that it shocked him just a bit. "We are friends...aren't we?"

Looking at her innocent face, there was nothing he could do but to nod. "Yeah, we're friends."

The joyful smile that stretched her cheeks and made her eyes squint seemed to make the whole room a shade or two brighter. In that moment Yoongi couldn't help but think of another smile he knew that used to make the room shine.

"Chaerin?" He mumbled her name past the lump in his throat.

"Yeah?"

"Since we're friends," he hesitated, he'd kept this secret for a year. His grandmother kept saying that it was alright to be sad and it was alright to talk about it. But Yoongi couldn't help the feeling that if he didn't say anything then the problem would go away. It would solve itself. But that didn't seem to be working.

"Can I tell you something?"

Chaerin's face lit up, "Of course you can! We're friends, you can tell me anything." The smile on her face—though untimely for the story he was about to tell—convinced him.

Yoongi pushed himself up so he sat against the headboard and waved Chaerin over, motioning for her to sit on the other end of the bed. She flopped down easily, folding her thin legs into a pretzel and looking up at him expectantly.

This was so exciting for her. They were going to talk! Just like real friends. Yoongi was her friend. Just the thought made her smile.

"It's hard," he sighed, letting his head fall into his hands.

"What is?" She was so curious, so innocent.

"Do you know why I came to live with my grandma?" Chaerin shook her head 'no'. Her hair flew everywhere as she did. Yoongi sighed, again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"It's because of my mom—" his voice hitched. Was he crying?

"What happened?" Her question was simple. And yet he didn't fully know the answer to it.

"She was sick, at least that what she told me," he began. "I thought she was fine, dad told me she was fine. But one day she just...fell. She was making lunch and she fell."

Yoongi told the story to his hands, not having lifted his head out of his palms yet. Chaerin sat quietly as he spoke, listening carefully.

"Dad startled yelling on the phone. And then there were people everywhere and the sirens were so loud I couldn't hear anything else. They took my mom out into the ambulance and drove away. Dad and I followed after it, I had never seen him drive that fast." Yoongi took a shuttering breath before continuing.

"When we got to the hospital they wouldn't let us see her at first. I don't know how long we waited. I think I fell asleep but I know my dad didn't. When the doctor took us to her room there was machines everywhere and there was this-this—" a sob broke free from his chest. He couldn't keep going. It hurt too much.

Soft hands gently touched his back. Chaerin scooted to the head of his bed and wrapped her thin arms around Yoongi's shoulders. She didn't say anything. She didn't try to tell him that it was okay or that he shouldn't cry. She just laid her head onto his shoulder and sat quietly with him. He appreciated that.

He didn't know how long they say like that, but eventually he found the strength to keep talking.

"T-there was these tubes in her mouth and on her arms," he still cried softly. "And the doctor said she was really sick. My dad cried," Yoongi spoke into his arms. "The next day he took me home and started packing into a big suitcase. I asked where we were going but he said that he wasn't going with me. I had to go to stay with my grandmother but he couldn't come with me. He had to stay and take care of mom."

When the last words slipped off his tongue, Yoongi thought that a weight would slip from his chest. But it didn't. The pain was still there. It still hurt.

"I miss them. Dad calls sometimes. But I want to be home. I want to see my mom," it was hard for him to admit all of that. He had to be strong. His dad told him to be strong. But he didn't feel like he was.

Chaerin couldn't help the couple tears that slipped from her lashes. She sat silently, still hugging him. He was hurting and she didn't know how to fix it. She couldn't fix it. But he was her friend. And she wouldn't leave him.

Chaerin's thin arms tightened around Yoongi's shoulders. She held him as he cried. It was all she could think to do. She didn't leave or pull away; she stayed.

He was glad she stayed.