kinda gone.

Yet the next day, she cried more tears than she ever had in her fourteen years on earth with the news of them leaving the home to her and Jin not just for today, or tomorrow, or a whole week—but for a word that rings like finality to any human’s ears.

Forever is long.

It lasts and it sinks and it weighs on her shoulders even now. She doesn’t think there’s a sadness that lasts forever or a happiness that lasts forever, but she knows both of them swings and meets and one cannot live without the other. That situation, she knows it is forever. Jin hasn’t called for a week, and she’s worried sick because a week, that’s just how much her parents were supposed to be gone, but it’s silly.

The last time she heard his voice he sounded cheerful, he sounded hopeful so her worrying, it’s ridiculous.

“You should just focus on the contest, you have to win it y’know.”

Chaeri looks up at the man that’s entered the bedroom, their bedroom. Happiness, she’s basking in it right now. He’s looking at her with his eyebrows furrowed because he’s worried about her and it diffuses in her chest, down to her stomach and warming her finger tips where they went cold tight around her phone. She knows this man is more worried for her than the contest, knows he’s trying to pry her mind off her brother’s lack of news.

She knows this and it’s why she’s almost brought to tears. Chaeri’s never had anyone to worry about her, she doesn’t complain about it, but it’s odd.

“Yeah, I should, I know.” There’s a sigh as she puts the phone away and reaches her hands when he leans in, a knee on the bed and his own hands reaching for her. He comes to her and she welcomes him, because his embrace is warm and tight and she can sink in it and just talk on and on when he begins asking her what she’s going to do when she wins.

The first thing she’ll do is head to Korea and show Jin that he’s done it, he’s realized her dream just as he promised he would and now. Now he doesn’t have to worry about her leaving everything aside for him, because she’s never thought of it that way. But he’s a worrywart, guess that’s a thing that runs in the family.

She’s the winner.

It’s a round of joy and applause and tears. She can’t contain them anymore, the news come by phone, then they come from a mic, on a stage and from one of most renown fashion designer she’s had the honor of working with. She’s beyond happy, she’s so happy she forgets her worries for that day. She drinks, with him standing by her side the whole night. She laughs and he kisses her when they return to their apartment. Theirs, not just hers, but theirs. She’s only ever had things for her and Jin, until Jin only had his things and she had to have hers only. But now it’s her turn to think we, and theirs, and us. She forgets for a moment, that happiness never comes alone.

The mistake has her waking up with his voice calling her name.

“Wake up, it’s for you.” It says, at least it’s what she hears through the fog of barely being awake. She reaches without even wanting to know who it is, though she thinks she asks, but he doesn’t answer. He’s frowning, as if he’s sensing it’s nothing good, maybe he didn’t forget that happiness never comes alone.

It’s wise of him, to remind her of it with the crease of worry on his face.

But it’s a bit too late. He should have warned her yesterday night, when she was sure that she couldn’t be happier right there, right now and did not want this to ever end. He should have reminded her then.

So that the voice at the other end of the line,

“Do you know someone by the name of Lee Jin?” Korean, it’s been awhile since she’s heard it even though the man in her life at the moment speaks it as well. But she’s used to French and English and it rings almost wrong in her mind. Aside from Jin’s name, that sounds too right to be heard from someone she does not recognize the voice of.

“Yeah, he’s my brother.”

It’s silent, for just a second but it feels like an eternity. She’s awake now, fully aware of where she is, what’s happening.

It starts with, I’m sorry.

That’s all she needs to hear to know. Because her parents too, the knocks came first, then the men standing at the door and that expression she can almost imagine it then their voice. They always sound too sorry to be announcing this yet at the same time, stone cold like tone that sips through her ears and has her frozen still.

                                                                            He’s gone.

Her breath has been stolen, she’s refused to let herself even pause to breathe. She’s left everything behind, taken a plane and she hasn’t let out a single breath from the moment she stepped out of it to the moment she stepped in the hospital.

She can’t breathe, can’t cry, can’t talk. Until hands stop her from going somewhere and she’s suddenly screaming, vocal chords breaking under the sheer force of it. It’s been kept too long inside and she wants to see him.

“You can’t madam.”

And why can’t she? He’s hers, he’s part of her, and why can’t she see him? Because they’ve taken him, of course, life takes everything. Death only reminds them that it’s how it works, life takes everything. Happiness, sadness, takes as it wishes. Death only soothes away the worry, it snaps right in and tells life to stop lying about its intentions and she’s crumbling.

She’s breathing and it hurts but she can’t stop breathing.

The tears have dried, they made her wipe them away and they’ve made her breath with less pain so they could break her apart all over again. But she’s sitting still, hands on her lap and eyes lost on the white coat the man’s wearing.

“I’m sorry to be saying this but, that is not the main issue.”

Her gaze focuses on him now, his mouth moving and she thinks she hears what he’s saying but she doesn’t think she can muster up enough strength to understand the words.

“He wasn’t alone in the car, there was a woman with him and we think they were related in some way.”

Ahri. She snaps back to reality, just for a bit, a sniffing sound and she’s opening her mouth, trying to talk, ask.

“She didn’t make it.” He knows what she wanted to ask.

One last link gone and she’s not crying, but it’s starting to hurt to breathe again.