Chapter Text
Baku had learned to deal with grief a long time ago, before he even truly knew what the word meant. His mother had been the first. A woman who he now barely remembered, but from pictures and from feelings, he knew she had been full of light.
What he did remember was the funeral. He remembered the white decorated hall, his mother’s favorite flowers standing in vases by the closed casket. He remembered his father, a man who probably had aspirations, dreams, crushed by the death of his wife and the child left behind. Whenever Baku thought back he saw black suits, envelopes with money, and he felt the sorrow that had hung around the hall.
The second thing he mourned was consequently his father. Unlike his mother, Baku didn’t remember what his father used to be like. He could only see in the pictures, the bright smile his father held, that now was an uncommon appearance. No, all Baku has ever known was an alcoholic, a man with a short temper and a tendency to hit rather than use words. But Baku, even as a kid, knew that must’ve been different once upon a time.
The third time Baku truly experienced grief was with Na Baekjin. His Baekjin-ah.
Baku and Baekjin were inseparable once upon a time. They were like brothers some had said. Baku had only been older by four months. They met at school, Baku had a bright and loud personality, he made friends effortlessly. But then Baekjin showed up halfway through the school year. Whispers and rumors quickly hit the school halls.
“He has no parents.”
“...an orphan.”
“Outcast…”
Baku had heard it all, but so had Baekjin. Who was a quiet kid, focussing on his studies, wanting to be left alone.
Baku would have none of it.
He still remembers it like it was yesterday. It was a warm day in May, the school year was quickly coming to an end. Baku was roaming the streets of his neighbourhood, still in school uniform, not yet wanting to go home and meet his father’s wrath. He had heard shouts near the alleyway, the one by the restaurant that was popular among the elders of the area. Baku, curious as ever, turned the corner only to find some of his classmates ganging up on Baekjin.
“Yah!” He yelled and ran towards the group, striking quickly. “Leave him alone!” He stepped in front of the younger boy, raising his fists. He had fought the others until they ran away. Baku was used to being bruised up by now. It was nothing he couldn’t handle. “Are you okay?” He asked, holding out his hand to help Baekjin to his feet. The boy nodded and profuriously thanked Baku.
From that day onward they were seen everywhere together. Baku knew everything about Baekjin, from his favorite color to what had happened to his parents. In return, Baekjin knew everything about Baku, from his favorite food to what his father put him through.
Things between them had always been well. Baku had taught Baekjin how to fight, how to defend himself from relentless bullying. Baekjin had helped Baku with his studies in return. Things were good. Friendship slowly bloomed into something neither of them had ever said out loud. Something that they were too young to understand, too young to act upon. But it was there, simmering beneath the surface.
It was the thing that made Baekjin flushed whenever Baku stood behind him, helping him adjust his stance in fighting practices. It was what made Baku look away wherever Baekjin praised him for acing a test. It was always there, lingering in the shadows, words that didn’t need saying.
It didn’t last as long as Baku had always thought it would. Their friendship wasn’t infinite, they never got to grow old side by side.
Baku often thought back to the day he stood face to face with his friend. When Baekjin had crossed the line, refusing to step back. He remembered the punches he had thrown, the punches he received. The training he taught Baekjin was now being used against him, being used for malice. The pain had been unbearable.
Baekjin had gone to a different high school, a pristine one, for people who went on to become lawyers and doctors. Baku went to a public school, the kind where students ruled over the teachers and no one had hope of a real future.
They grew apart. That was Baku’s first ever heartbreak. A friendship he never stopped grieving.
He went almost four years without hearing anything from Baekjin. Then the rumors started, rumors about a student organisation called The Union. Ruled by none other than Na Baekjin. Then the fighting started all over again. He made himself the school’s top dog; he had refused Eunjang high, for his school, to join The Union. He did everything to prevent it. Everything to keep Baekjin from having more power.
—-
Baku hadn’t been stuck in his grief. He had made new friends, he had a solid group around him. Go Hyuntak, who had been his best friend since the start of high school, the first person he trusted after Na Baekjin. Then came Yeon Sieun and Seo Juntae. Sieun, who had healed something in Baku, something he had deemed broken. Sieun, who understood him, more than anyone had ever done. And then Juntae. Juntae reminded him of Baekjin in a way, what Baekjin used to be. Soft, breakable, but incredibly loyal.
He had made friends for life.
They had helped him with his fight against The Union. But the fight against Baekjin had remained his own. He couldn’t let anyone come between that.
Then came the faithful day. The day where Baku would learn what real loss was. The day that he had never forgotten, and most likely never will.
Standing face to face with Baekjin after so many years was odd. Smiling at each other, knowing this most likely meant the end for one of them was worse. Baekjin had become a phenomenal fighter, something deep inside of Baku had twitched with pride. The fight lasted shorter than Baku anticipated. Walking away victorious had felt amazing after all those years of fighting. It was over, he could be with his friends now. And maybe, he and Baekjin could reconcile.
It had been a day like any other, Baku had spent time with Sieun and Suho in the hospital. Suho’s recovery had been going well, and Sieun seemed happier. It had been a few weeks, and there had been no sign of Baekjin anywhere. Baku had gathered the courage to ask Seongje a few days ago if he had heard anything. But Baekjin seemed to have disappeared off of the face of the planet.
He had walked home alone. His father had been asleep on the couch, Baku always checked his pulse out of habit. He walked over to the pile of letters on the table, sifting through bills and spam mail. One letter stuck out, it was addressed to him. It had come from the orphanage. With shaking hands Baku opened the letter.
An invite.
An invite to the funeral of Na Baekjin.
Baku stared at the paper until it turned blurry, or maybe that was just his eyes filled with tears. He skimmed over the details before dropping it to the floor like it had burned him. He had called Gotak out of pure panic.
“Tak-ah, he’s dead.” Baku sobbed over the phone. “He’s dead, I don’t- I don’t know what happened.” Hyuntak had been there within fifteen minutes to console his friend. The pain Baku felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced. He had been too young to remember what his mother’s death felt like. When he first lost Baekjin, it wasn’t like this. Back then Baekjin was alive and breathing. Baku could technically see Baekjin whenever he desired.
Now that chance had slipped through his fingers. Years wasted on an argument. A friendship he’d never get back. He’d never get it back. He would never see Baekjin again.
The days before the funeral, Baku laid in bed. Crying until he became numb, he hid away from the world. He lost weight, he had no appetite. His friends did everything they could, they urged him to get out of the house. “The sun is still shining, let’s go for a walk.” Juntae often tried. But all Baku thought was that it was a sun Baekjin would never feel again. He’d never feel the warmth on his skin again. He’d never go for a walk. So why should Baku.
Hyuntak had helped him get ready for the funeral. They agreed to go together, to help Baku. Gotak had never seen Baku in such a state, so vulnerable. He had helped Baku get washed up, he had been the one to shave Baku, to help him get dressed. He did it all without a single complaint. Because if his friend needed him, he would be there.
Baku had started crying long before they entered the hall Baekjin stayed in. It was a closed casket. There weren’t many people, a few from the orphanage, Baku and his friends, and Seongmok stood at the back together with Dongha, not showing an ounce of pain.
Baku had sobbed his eyes out. Even Juntae let out a few tears. When the service was over, Gotak was the one to hand over the envelope with money the boys had scrambled together over to someone from the orphanage. They had to practically drag Baku away from the funeral home.
The first few weeks Baku had been unconsolable. There was nothing his friends did or said that eased his pain. There was a hole in his chest, eating away at him, slowly consuming his waking days.
Things didn’t improve until he had gotten into a fight with Gotak. It wasn’t pretty.
Gotak had come to drag Baku out of bed once again. It was a late September day and probably one of the last warm days they would have before autumn took over. “Come on. We’re going, whether you like it or not.” Gotak said, pulling away the blanket Baku had buried himself under. “You know what they’ve been saying?” Baku muttered. “They’ve been saying Jin-ah did it himself. That he ended his own life.” Baku whispered against the wall and Gotak groaned. “Yes, so you have said. Are you planning on joining him or what?” He hissed, getting fed up with this selfwallowing bullshit.
Baku shrugged and Gotak snapped. He dragged Baku upright and shook him by his shoulders. “Wake up! Baekjin is dead. Nothing you’re doing is changing that! All you’re doing is losing the friends you have. We have been nothing but patient with you, but you have got to move on!” Gotak practically screamed in Baku’s face.
On the surface, the words didn’t even seem to register. But deep down, Baku heard them. He knew his friends were beyond worried, and that he was withering away. He couldn’t find the words to respond to his friend, which only seemed to infuriate Gotak further.
He let go of Baku and stood up again. “Fine. If that’s what you want. Kill yourself, go ahead and join him, see if I care.” He muttered and slammed the bedroom door shut, leaving Baku alone with his thoughts once again.
The words hit him hard. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life mourning Baekjin. So the next day, Baku got up. He showered, shaved, got dressed and headed over to Sieun’s apartment. Everyone, including Suho, who had been discharged the week prior, would gather there for a movie night.
He was probably the last to arrive and beyond nervous to ring the bell. But he did. He heard the lock beep and Sieun opened the door. His face broke open into a rare smile and he immediately welcomed Baku in. Juntae was the first to reach him, enveloping his friend in a tight hug. Baku reluctantly hugged back, but soon melted into it.
After Juntae had pulled away, Baku was faced with Gotak, who seemed embarrassed by his actions from the previous day. Baku was the first to speak. “You were right.” He said. “I needed a wake up call. You were right about everything you said and I’m sorry.”
Gotak looked nervous. “No I should never have said that, I’m so sorry.” He whispered and embraced Baku. “I’m glad it got you out of the house though.” Baku laughed and hugged back.
This was how he did it. This was how he moved on. By remembering he had people who loved him, people who needed him. The pain wasn’t gone. But his friends softened it, they made the days go by easier.
But Baku never forgot the pain he had felt.
He never forgot Na Baekjin