mochi shortcake

March 12th, 1995

Dear Malcolm, 

Mom let me stay home from school today. She seemed tired, and said she didn’t want to drive. That’s okay with me though. 

Dad didn’t join us for breakfast this morning. He must be sleeping in. 

After breakfast, mom asked me to help her clean up. Mom and Dad made a big mess while arguing yesterday, and spills and broken things were everywhere. They argue a lot, but this morning it was nice and quiet. 

Mom collected everything in a big black garbage bag, and tossed it out just as the garbage pickup people came by. They waved at me. I waved back. After Mom washed all the icky off her, she patted my head, and we played a game together. 

It was a good day.

-----

March 13th, 1995

Dear Malcolm,

I stayed home from school today with Mom. We tidied up some more around the house, and played together in the living room. 

Mom kept all the blinds closed today, saying the sunlight hurt her head. I thought it was odd since it was raining outside, but you told me to listen to what Mom says, so  I said nothing. 

Dad went to work early today, before I woke up, so it was a nice quiet day today too. All the sounds I heard were the soft clack of the chess pieces Mom  and I played with, and the rain outside.

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter. 

-----

March 14th, 1995

Dear Malcolm, 

The first thing I thought of when I woke up was red. I thought it was odd. Why would I think of that? But then I remembered that was Dad’s favorite color, so then I decided to draw a picture for him, with a nice red shirt. 

I got some of my paint to color it, but then I ended up splattering it all over the paper, over Dad’s frowning face and the smokey thing he had in his mouth all the time. It should be fine though. 

I showed it to Mom. She didn't seem to really like it, but she said good job. I asked her when Dad would be back. She looked confused, but told me Dad had gone away for a business trip, and that I could give him the picture when he came back. 

But I never saw him pack anything. 

-----

March 19th, 1995

Dear Malcolm, 

 It's been a week since I've been to school. Mom also hasn’t been going to work, and anytime she would think I'm not looking she would stressfully walk back and forth. 

She hasn't been playing chess with me lately. We also haven't opened up the blinds since she's closed them. 

But you told me to not ask questions. That Mom would be happy with me if I just listened. If I stay quiet, maybe she will play with me again, and Dad might come home.

I miss him.

-----

March 21st, 1995

Dear Malcolm, 

Police officers came by yesterday. They knocked on the door, and Mom’s whole body went stiff. She still opened the door, and a kind-looking lady asked a lot of questions. To me too. 

They said they were told there was a lot of arguing here before, and their neighbors called for a check to see if everything was okay. They asked where Dad was. Mom said he was on a business trip, and wouldn’t be back for a bit. They looked at each other funny when she said that, and asked to come into the house. Mom seemed like she wanted to say no at first, but she ended up letting them in. 

They looked through every room, even the basement. They eventually left, and you could see Mom’s whole body relax. She gave me a big hug and told me I did amazing, but Malcolm, why were her hands shaking so much? 

-----

March 25th, 1995

Dear Malcolm, 

I found Dad’s glasses today. I was playing with a ball that rolled under the couch, and when I reached for it, I found the glasses. One of the lenses was cracked. 

Now Malcolm, I was really confused. You said not to ask questions, but I had to. Dad can’t see without his glasses. Why did he go on his business trip without them? I said that to Mom, and her face went white. She grabbed the glasses quickly from my hand, hers starting to shake again. She said something about him having probably forgotten, and maybe got new ones when he went on his trip. 

Malcolm, Dad loved those glasses. He always said they were very expensive, and would always get mad at me if I played too rough because he was worried I’d break them. Why would he leave them?

That night, I remembered something.  Something more from the day I helped Mom clean. 

The spills were red.

-----

March 28th, 1995

Dear Malcolm,

The police came back today, now with more people. They made Mom sit on the couch while they searched the house again. The nice looking lady sat me in the kitchen, and asked me to explain everything I had seen. I told her about the loud noises, the arguing, the mess. 

She asked me what color the mess was, I told her red. Red spills like in my drawing. 

She asked me where the spills were. I pointed to the corner of the kitchen, and for a moment I could see it all again, despite it having been scrubbed clean over two weeks ago. She asked me if I remember seeing Dad after their argument. I tried Malcolm, but I just couldn’t. I remember the yelling, the big crash. And then you appeared, telling me to go to my room. That everything would be okay. So I did. 

The next morning, the spot Dad had been standing in was replaced with a black garbage bag. Malcolm, what did you make me miss that night? 

-----

April 3rd, 1995

Dear Malcolm,

I’m not living at home anymore. I’m staying with Aunt Linda. Mom left the house too, but she’s not with me. The police took her away. Aunt Linda tried to explain, but I think I get it now. 

The mess wasn’t from the argument. The red wasn’t from paint. Dad didn’t go on a business trip. He’s not coming back, and Mom made sure of it. I had helped her clean up. I helped her put him in that black garbage bag. I waved at those garbage men happily as they took him away. 

Malcolm, you told me to listen to her. You told me if I did everything she asked of me, I’d be okay. You’ve always been with me when things got scary at home, when I needed someone to tell me what to do. 

Aunt Linda is telling me I’m too old to be talking to you. She says she’s going to sign me up to talk to someone who can actually help me, someone real. 

But I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of you yet. You kept me safe from the truth.

But maybe that’s why you need to go. I miss Dad. He wasn’t the nicest, but he shouldn’t be stuffed in a garbage bag. I miss Mom too, even though she had done a bad thing. 

Mizi bounced on her heels as she arranged the takeout containers on her dorm room’s desk, trying her best to make the cramped space look as inviting as possible. The fluorescent overhead light was way too bright for the cozy mood she was trying to set, so she hung up some fairy lights and turned on her bedside lamp. Much better.

“Does this look okay?” she asked, stepping back to survey her work. Four containers of takeout on her desk, surrounded by an impressive array of face masks, nail polishes, and skincare products that she’d been collecting for weeks in preparation for tonight.

Sua looked up from looking through movies on Mizi’s laptop, her dark hair falling on her face. “It looks perfect Mizi! ”

“Is it maybe too much? I hope I didn’t go overboard or anything.”

“It's fine Mizi, it looks like you put a lot of thought into this,” Sua said, her smile warm. “You want the three of us to have a good time, and it looks that way. Hyuna’s going to love this.”

Mizi grinned and flopped down next to her girlfriend on the narrow bed, the mattress creaking with their combined weight. “I’m so excited Hyuna could make it tonight. When’s the last time she’s said yes to a hangout without mentioning all the work she has pending?”

“Hm, probably not since the semester started,” Sua said after a thoughtful pause. “But she seems to be doing better lately, don’t you think?”

“Oh my goodness, yes! Did you see her at lunch yesterday? She actually finished all her food with us for once instead of running off to her lab with an apple in hand.”

“When I talked to Luka the other day, he told me he was being firmer about her schedule.” Sua said. “Remember how she would disappear in the lab for almost a full day? Now she actually responds to the messages in our group chats within the same day.”

A knock at the door interrupted them, and Mizi practically bounced off the bed to answer it.

Hyuna stood in the hallway holding a plastic bag and looking… much better than she had in weeks. More human and less like a ghost haunting the halls of the engineering building. She beamed at Mizi. “Hi!” She said cheerfully, walking into the room. She placed the bag next to Mizi's careful arrangement of food. “I brought some snacks! Chips, chocolate, those gummy bears Mizi likes so much – oh and those seaweed crisps we tried the other day!”

“Hyuna, you didn’t have to!” Mizi exclaimed, looking through the bag’s contents. “But I’m honestly glad you did because these are my favorite gummies!”

Sua patted the bed beside her. “Come sit. You look good Hyuna. Well rested and more relaxed.”

Hyuna kicked off her shoes and settled down onto the bed, tucking her feet under her. “Well, Luka’s been incredibly stubborn in making me have a better routine. Apparently living off of energy drinks and two hours of sleep isn’t sustainable long-term. Who knew?”

“Everyone. Everyone knew,” Sua said dryly, but her eyes were soft. “We’re all just glad you’re finally listening.”

“Yeah, well,” Hyuna smiled. “I knew it wasn’t good for me, but I guess it took me seeing how badly it was also affecting Luka, affecting us,” she absent-mindedly twisted the ring on her hand. “It was then I realized I need to put more effort into making sure we’re both okay. Not just Luka worrying if I’m just gonna keep dragging myself along until I collapse. It needed to go both ways.”

Mizi nudged Hyuna’s shoulder. “That’s so mature of you Hyuna! Definitely the talk of someone who is planning on getting married to their fiance later,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

Hyuna’s cheeks turned pink in a rare show of fluster. “Yeah, not right now, but we’re hoping after we graduate.” She smiled softly. “When life is less chaotic.”

Mizi squealed. “Aww, how romantic! I’m so happy for the two of you!”

The soft hum of the 3D printer filled the lab as Hyuna stared through the glass, watching the thin layers of polymer slowly build up her latest design.

3:47am. The time glowed mockingly in the corner of her laptop screen, and on her phone, several notifications that she had not seen up til now. She had silenced it hours ago when the constant buzzing became too distracting.

She rubbed her eyes, feeling the familiar burn of exhaustion, and reached for her coffee cup only to find it empty. When did that happen? The lab was completely deserted except for her, bathed in a harsh light that made everything in the lab look slightly clinical. Outside the tall windows, the campus was dark, save for the few occasional lights of dorm rooms where other night owls were probably cramming for exams.

The project was for Dr. Richards’ biomedical research group– a custom design that could potentially rethink how prosthetics were fitted onto the body. It was exactly the kind of cutting-edge work she had dreamed about when she first declared her biomedical engineering major. The kind of work that could help people like her, people who needed better solutions than those available.

But it was the kind of work that demanded time. Much of her time.

Hyuna pulled up the calendar on her phone, immediately regretting the decision when she was met with a wall of color-coded blocks stretching out over the course of the next two weeks. Red for her classes, blue for her labs, green for study sessions, yellow for her research meetings, and purple for her part time job as a biomed tutor. And occasionally, in between the huge chucks of commitments were a few white blocks labeled as “free time”, but they were pitifully small compared to the rest.

She scrolled through her notifications, and saw one Luka sent her three hours ago.

Luka: Made some stir-fry for you, left it covered on the table. Don’t stay up too late <3

Guilt twisted in her stomach. He’d probably waited up for her up until around midnight before giving up and going to bed. This was becoming a pattern, and she knew it. Luka would cook up dinner for the both of them, set aside a portion for her, and she’d come home to find it carefully wrapped in plastic with a cute note. She’d eat it alone at their kitchen table while he slept, sometimes too tired to properly appreciate the care he put into making her favorite dishes.

She typed back a quick response. Sorry babe, I just saw this. You are the best. I’m almost done here

Not exactly a lie. She was almost done with this particular print. Of course, right after this she’d have to test the prototype, adjust the parameters based on the results, redesign things as needed, and probably modify more things to get ready for the research meeting tomorrow.

The 3D printer let out a soft beep, signalling another layer of completion. Hyuna stretched her arms above her head, feeling her spine crack in several places. She winced. Her reflection in the dark window looked like a mess– paler than normal, with dark circles under her eyes and her long hair all pulled back into a messy bun, her go-to style with whatever writing utensil she had at hand. Today it was a mechanical pencil.

She looked through the rest of the messages on her phone and saw some from their Alien Stage group chat, sent hours ago during normal hours when people typically are awake.

Mizi: does anyone want to get food together on thursday?? I found this cute place that has amazing crepes!1!! Sua: I’m down if it’s after 11, I have office hours until then Ivan: count me and till in! Mizi: yayay!! what abt you two @Luka and @Hyuna??? Luka: I’m not sure, I think Hyuna typically has class that day Hyuna stared at that last message, feeling another pang of guilt. Luka knew her schedule better than she did at times. Whenever her friends would go out somewhere and Hyuna couldn’t go, Luka would normally stay behind with her, unless she forcibly sent him off with them. She hated the idea of him staying behind on her behalf, but he never minded. He told her flatly multiple times he wouldn’t really enjoy himself if she weren’t there.

The 3D printer continued its work, layer by layer, and Hyuna found herself lost in thought. She pulled out her phone and started scrolling through social media without really seeing it, just needing something to occupy her mind while she waited. Her feed was full of her classmates from parties and nights out, looking happy and like they had their lives together in a way she was missing.

She came across a post from Mizi from earlier that evening– a group photo at a cafe. Sua was there, along with Ivan and Till (who seemed to do his best to look like he didn’t want to be there). Hyuna sighed. Her absence seemed so often they hadn’t bothered to ask if she was able to come along.

Hyuna thought about all the dinners Luka had cooked and eaten alone, all the movie nights they’d planned that she’d canceled last minute, all the times he’d gone to bed alone because she was still hunched over the laptop at the kitchen table. Dr. Richards had noticed how often she would be pouring over her work in the lab, and kindly told her she had to find a balance between her work life and home life, apparently an important skill to learn for when one becomes a fully-fledged engineer. His words being “It’s good to have people you can depend on and understand your situation, but in order to maintain those relationships, one can’t constantly take without giving back. You need to learn a balance.”

testing the waters

Ivan lay sprawled on the living room floor, staring at his textbook, the words swimming on the page as his mind wandered for the third time in ten minutes. He was supposed to be studying for his upcoming midterms, but his attention kept drifting to the window on the living room, watching as neighbors went by, walking their dogs in the late Saturday afternoon. Somewhere on campus, Till was probably in the art building, bent over a canvas with that intense focus that made everything around him disappear.

It had been a month and a half since karaoke night. A month and a half of pretending like nothing had changed between them when everything had for Ivan.

Till apparently remembered nothing from after they’d left the bar. Ivan had been very careful the following day, dropping subtle hints about their walk back, but Till’s confused responses made it clear that everything after leaving The Abyss was a complete blank. The subtle confession, the kiss to the forehead, the way Till had asked him to stay– all of it lost to alcohol-induced amnesia.

Part of Ivan was relieved about that. It meant he didn’t have to face the awkwardness of Till remembering, and potentially rejecting what Ivan had said. Ivan wouldn’t know what he’d do if Till was disgusted with him. But a larger part of him ached with the weight of his words, of a moment that had felt so significant to him be reduced to nothing but his own secret memory.

“Ivan, you’re doing it again,” Sua said from across the living room, not looking up from her laptop.

“Doing what?”

“Staring off into space with a pathetic expression.” She typed away at her essay. “It’s been a while since the karaoke night. Either you tell him how you feel or get over it.”

Ivan’s face heated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sua finally looked up, fixing him with a piercing stare that could see right through his bullshit. Living with his sister meant privacy was a luxury he rarely enjoyed, especially when it came to his feelings for Till. Ivan had made the mistake of telling Mizi everything after karaoke night– how he had confessed to Till’s sleeping form, the kiss to his forehead, all of it. Mizi was his best friend, the one person he trusted with everything, but apparently she accidentally let some of it slip to Sua during one of their dates. Now his sister knew far too much about his hopeless situation, and she wasn’t about to let him forget it.

“Sure you don’t,” Sua said dryly. “I suppose you turning down three different party invitations last weekend to stay home in case Till texted was just a coincidence. Including that party your track team was throwing. You know, you teammates who you usually love hanging out with?”

Ivan opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. …He guessed she had a point there. Marty had been particularly confused when Ivan had declined the invitation to the team gathering last week, especially since he was one to regularly go to them. As team captain and their star sprinter, Ivan’s absence had been noticed by everyone.

“And don’t get me started on how you’ve been basically ignoring everyone else who tries to get your attention,” Sua continued mercilessly. “That one girl on Mizi’s cheer team had been trying to ask you out for weeks, and you act like she doesn’t exist.”

“She’s nice but–”

“But she’s no Till,” Sua finished with a knowing look. “I know you have no interest in drawing, yet you spent like twenty minutes stammering an explanation to Papa why you spent so much money on a bunch of art supplies last week.”

Ivan sighed, dropping his face into the soft carpet. His parents had caught him coming back home with arms full of professional-grade sketching pencils and the fanciest paints he could find. When they questioned him why he had bought all of that, Ivan had panicked and mumbled something about ‘expanding his horizons’ and ‘you never know when creativity might strike’. His parents looked completely bewildered, but wordlessly watched him run with everything upstairs to his room. The supplies were sitting in Ivan’s desk drawer, preserved in their original packaging, waiting for him to work up the courage to give them to Till as a gift. But every time he thought about it, he chickened out.

His jacket from karaoke night was still at Till’s, exactly where Ivan wanted it to be. Till had tried multiple times to give it back, making awkward comments of needing to return it, but Ivan brushed off every attempt. “Keep it,” he’d say. “It looks better on you anyway.” He’d made it sound casual, teasing, but the truth was he loved seeing Till in his clothes, loved that Till had something of his.

Sua closed a textbook she had to her side with a snap. “Look, I like Till. We all do. He fits in well with our group, and he’s good for you when you’re not being a coward about your feelings. But this pining is getting pathetic.”

“I’m not pining–”

Sua’s eyebrows almost disappeared into her bangs. “Ivan, don’t even. Every hangout, you stare at him like there’s no one else there. Till’s usually too busy actually interacting with the group to notice, otherwise he might be running the other way with your stupid expressions.”

Over the past month, Till had indeed become integrated into their friend group. It had happened gradually– study sessions that turned into hangouts, group lunches Till would initially refuse but eventually would be convinced to join, late night gaming sessions. Till had developed an easy relationship with Dewey, Isaac and Hyunwoo that sometimes made Ivan irrationally jealous. They could make Till laugh in a way that seemed effortless, and could get him to open up about his art without restraint.

But with Ivan, things felt different. More charged. Till still got annoyed with him easily, still snapped when Ivan pushed his buttons, still maintained that prickly exterior that kept most people at arm’s length. Ivan couldn’t help himself from poking at Till, making comments he knew would get a rise out of him, pushing and pushing until Till would snap and yell at him. There was something so addictive getting a reaction from Till, about being the only person who could crack that careful composure.

Yet there were other moments too– brief, precious moments– when Till's guard would drop. When he'd laugh at Ivan's jokes despite himself, or when Ivan would catch him wearing that jacket from karaoke night, or when Till would unconsciously lean into Ivan's space during their gaming sessions.

Those moments gave Ivan hope, even as they tortured him.

His phone buzzed with a text, and Ivan’s heart did its usual stupid flutter when he saw Till’s name on the screen.

Till: Locked myself out of the studio again. keys are inside and maintenance wont be here until monday. Till: could you help me out Till: if you’re not busy or wtv

Ivan was already reaching for his keys before he finished reading, completely ignoring the three other texts from teammates.

Ivan: your knight in shining armor is on his way! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و Till: shut up

“And there he goes,” Sua said with a knowing smirk as she watched Ivan scramble from his spot on the floor. “Do I even need to ask who texted you?”

“Shut up,” Ivan muttered, but there was no heat in it. “I’ll be back later.”

“What about Marty?” Sua called after him. “Didn’t you say you all had something going on tonight?”

Ivan paused, looking through his notifications until he saw a text from Marty from twenty minutes ago. Team dinner at Romano’s, 830pm. Captain’s presence is required!

“I’ll make it in time,” Ivan said, already dismissing it.

Ch. 5– shots of paranoia 

Till stood outside of The Abyss, putting out his second cigarette and reconsidering his decision to come here. The neon sign of the karaoke bar cast a sickly pink over his face, and under the sign hung a sign displaying “ANAKT University Karaoke Night!!”. Bass thumped through the walls of the venue, hard enough to make his ribs vibrate, and he could hear someone absolutely massacring a pop song inside. 

“Screw this,” he muttered, flicking the cigarette into the gutter. He considered sending Ivan some sort of excuse, some reason as to turn around and go back to his dorm, but his feet stayed right where they were. 

He was never really good at this– meeting new people, being social, pretending he wasn’t stressing over the idea of meeting Ivan’s friends.

His phone buzzed. 

Ivan: wya?? We’re inside already (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Ivan: got us a big room in the back

Ivan: got a few bottles of the yogurt soju you said you liked ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

Till stared at the messages. Of course Ivan remembered some offhand comment he had made about the drinks he liked. The guy had this annoying habit of taking note of everything Till said, even if the comments were offhanded. 

He took a deep breath, and pushed through the doors, immediately hit with the smell of alcohol, the sound of off-key singing, and the sight of way too many people crammed into a space that definitely wasn’t made for this many. The university had rented out the venue for the night, and it seemed like half the campus had shown up.

An attendant with a kind smile greeted him at the door, and asked him for an ID. He stamped Till's arm with a neon-orange mark that would not rub off no matter what Till did, and cheerfully explained it would "come right off" by the end of the night. Orange for those of age, and green for those underage. 

Till nodded to him wordlessly, passing by him and scanning the crowd. He saw a few familiar faces among the chaos, but none he was too friendly with.

“Till!”

He turned to see Ivan waving to him from across the venue, standing near a room he held open with his foot. Even from a distance, Till could see that unmistakable grin, and the way Ivan’s face lit up when their eyes met. 

Fuck. Why did that make his heart do weird things?

Read the rest here!

Summary: