Chapter 11

"Soobin! Did you eat?"

"Oh. Hi, hyung." The boy in question flashed him a small smile from his position by the end of the hospital bed, taking notes on his tab. Yeonjun slid the door close behind him, dropping his plastic bag of takeout on a nearby coffee table. Approaching him, he stopped by his side and stared at the boy on top of the bed. "How is he?"

Soobin had never known how to properly answer that question. For every single day in the past year, Yeonjun wouldn't fail to ask every time he came—and Soobin had to struggle with devising a different alternative of the same answer each time. Well, but still no sign of improvement? He's alive, but it's worse than death?

"He's well, as usual. Nothing's going wrong, so that's good news." He tried to spin it in a way that would relieve the older. Instantly, it worked, because Yeonjun let out a relieved sigh. "That's good. Beomgyu, did you hear that? You're not allowed to die on me. Even God himself forbids it. You have to be stuck with me for the rest of your life, remember? You said it first, not me."

Rambling on, the older boy went to plop himself into the chair by the bedside, dropping his backpack by his feet. He was still in his school uniform, indicating that he'd come here straight after class—which had been almost always the case every single day for the past year, Soobin noted.

Pulling the folded built-in food tray out of the hospital bed, Yeonjun rotated it to face himself before dropping a notebook on top of it. "I brought my math homework, again. You've always been better at math than I was, so you need to help me out this time too, okay? I only got a C last time. You're still mean as always, Choi Beomgyu. Scared I'd get a higher grade? Pft."

Soobin was used to Yeonjun making this kind of conversation by now, yet each time still pained him like the first. He had no idea how Yeonjun was still able to remain so positive after a solid year. They must have been very close.

Chattering away, Yeonjun got started on his homework while Soobin finished up adjusting the entries of Beomgyu's IV tubes. "Soobin, don't you have homework too?" The older boy was talking to him now as he was about to see himself out, and so he turned to him. "Ah… I do, actually." Soobin sheepishly replied.

A bright smile lifted Yeonjun's entire face. "Bring it in, let's work on it together! Also that takeout is for you, so you better eat it before it gets cold. Or I'll be mad."

Soobin could only offer him a gentle smile and a meek nod. "Thanks, hyung. In that case, I'll be right back."

The next few hours went by with Yeonjun occasionally groaning in frustration at his algebra equations, Soobin chuckling softly as he offered whatever minimal help he could while eating his tomato soup, and the older boy rambling about the tedious details of his school days to Beomgyu. Soobin had long finished his history homework; he never knew what it was like to academically struggle, to which Yeonjun whined at with an envious 'you are too smart it's unfair'.

"Beomgyu, I'll have you know that by the time you wake up again you will have a lifetime's worth of homework you'd need to catch up on. Dear God, Miss Kim is the worst math teacher I've ever had in my life. Who gives their students this much work? Ooh, also, Taehyun and Hueningkai are dating now. Can you believe it? Turns out their first kiss wasn't an accident after all. Taehyun asked Kai out and they're literally so cute and lovesick it makes me want to throw up!" After stealing a bite from Soobin's tomato soup, he continued. "You are so extremely lucky you don't have to witness it in geography class every day, because yuck." He faked a disgusted gag, to which Soobin silently giggled. If the silence he was met with afterwards pricked his skin, he didn't show it.

They both tried their hardest to ignore the fact that every single exchange ended up with an empty response. That the boy in the bed, sheets swallowing his body, could only hear and not respond. Yet, if he focused more on the former part than the latter—that Beomgyu could hear them, and that by keeping him company like he was another high school kid made them happy—it was enough for Yeonjun.

It should be enough.

But why was it that with each passing day, it grew harder and harder for Yeonjun to pretend? To hold onto that faint glimmer of hope; as if the more he stretched his arms, the further it would grow out of his reach—and no matter how hard he tried to catch up, he would never be fast enough to quite keep the light in his grasp.

Next to him, Soobin had witnessed this scene unravel enough times to gather a sense of what would happen after. Therefore, before Yeonjun's face dropped, he pulled out a piece of coloured paper from the stack he'd neatly placed on the cabinet and handed it to him.

Yeonjun turned to look, and Soobin offered him a small smile. "You almost missed your daily streak." He said, thrusting the paper into Yeonjun's hands. The latter accepted.

They both just offered each other encouraging smiles, exchanging no more words. Soobin had agreed with Yeonjun not to speak up about their little secret they were preparing for when Beomgyu wakes up.

If Beomgyu wakes up.

However, they both tried to not let their thoughts wander that far. Next to him, Yeonjun had zoned into his origami trance, eyebrows furrowed and lower lips caught between his teeth as he carefully folded the paper in hand. He'd done it enough time to breeze through the process with his eyes closed, but something inside him nagged for perfection. He wanted every single one of them to turn out flawless, because they were all for Beomgyu—and Beomgyu deserved nothing short of flawless.

Barely under a minute later, the finished product was laid proudly in his palm as he showcased it to Soobin. The younger boy gave him a thumbs up.

It was a heart, folded with a bright pink origami paper. The edges were so carefully smoothed out that no uneven creases could be found.

Smiling to himself, Yeonjun placed the paper heart by Beomgyu's pillow. The pink hue stood out in stark contrast against the white sheet, bundled in with yellow, and red, and blue, and purple—and a variety of other hearts carefully placed around the same area. Another one of many added to the collection.

Now, Beomgyu wasn't swimming in the white sheets, the color all around him easing some of the tension in Yeonjun's shoulders. Colour-fun paper hearts for a boy that once bursted with vibrance.

The image of him laying in the sea of origami hearts was as breathtaking a sight as it was heartbreaking. If either Soobin or Yeonjun felt a hollow pit sink into their guts at the sight, neither made an effort to show it.

Not only were the paper hearts everywhere on Beomgyu's bed, it was everywhere else in the room as well—much so that the once bleak hospital room looked like it was mass decorated for a year-round birthday party. Soobin had pleaded and begged his dad to keep the room the way it was, and not get rid of the origami hearts, just so Yeonjun could find comfort in them. After many trials, he succeeded.

"Paper Hearts was his favourite song. So, I'm going to fold him a paper heart for each day he hasn't woken up. It's like a timer, or a countdown—I don't really know. I just need something to keep track of the time, or I'll feel like I'll float away." Yeonjun once told him. "I also have things I want to say to him when he wakes up and sees all these hearts. It's just a hopelessly romantic gesture on my part, really—since I liked him ever since we were little. But it has to be our secret, he can't know. Okay? I want him to see it all for himself when he wakes up. It'll be his welcome surprise." Blushing, he added. "And I plan to tell him about my feelings then."

Soobin didn't have it in him at the time to tell Yeonjun it most likely wouldn't happen; because how could he, when Yeonjun looked the happiest he'd ever seen him when he was talking about that?

So, he agreed. He even agreed to tape them on the walls for him when they began to run out of space for display.

In the corner of his eyes, he saw Yeonjun reach for his pen and wrote something onto the heart he'd just folded. When he returned it to its former position by Beomgyu's pillow, Soobin could read the letters in distinct, black ink.

365. I miss U.

It had already been 365 days since Beomgyu has laid unmoving on this bed. When he stole a glance at Yeonjun, he noticed the elder desperately wiping a single tear away from his eyes, his smile showing cracks in the happy façade he's been trying to desperately put on—more for himself than anybody else in this room.

"Get some rest, punk. I'll be back to annoy you later, you'll need energy for that."

Being sixteen would have been so much better if Yeonjun had his best friend by his side.