Wildfire And Rain

Chapter Eleven

He sees Kai later that week, it's quite obvious he's trying to be seen in public less and less, from seeing him a few times in the library to nothing at all. From seeing his black Cadillac parked outside with all the students' cars to spotting it never.

It happens near the cafe, a fleeting look. At first, he thinks he's imagining the black shadow passing outside of the glass doors but as he's talking to Beomgyu about what professors' selective courses he should avoid, his eyes tear from the boy in front of him and he instinctively follows Kai's figure as if he had been waiting for it to call him. As if his eyes were magnets that were just waiting to click with their respective half.

He swallows, Beomgyu's words entering and leaving his ears as if they were never spoken. He looks out of the window beside them until he loses any trace of Kai and even when that he still keeps an eye for the black to come back, like he needs it to.

His heart pulls towards the outside so much that he feels himself dragging away from the cafe.

A few fingers snap right in front of his eyes and suddenly he can hear the soft lo-fi music coming from the speakers inside the cafe like it never stopped. "Are you listening?" Beomgyu looks intently at him.

"Yes."

"Liar. What were you looking at so intensely?" Beomgyu turns around and looks out from the window, trying to catch what took Taehyun's attention away from his rant about Ms. Holly, the history professor, and her infuriating antics.

"There was a drone." Taehyun drinks from his coffee. "What were you saying?"

Beomgyu squints his eyes, going back to his seat slumped. "I don't see it."

"It's a drone, it flew away... probably."

"Probably." Beomgyu parroted.

"Ms. Holly is no good, then?"

"Oh, Absolute shit. Avoid at all costs."

.....................

He's supposed to be there, in their sociology class. Kai never missed a class, and their paper is due today. But when he turned to Mr. Harrison to ask if he knew or had received a note from Kai about his absence, he seemed surprised that Taehyun even asked.

About Kai, that is.

He did receive an email, but he refused to disclose its contents to Taehyun. Just that Kai had sent their work digitally with both their names on it, so he is welcome to enjoy the class comfortably.

The pages of their essay that lay in Taehyun's bag remained untouched for the entire lecture. He sits down, confused and discouraged. Just like the last few lectures, he cannot focus. This time not because of Kai.

That is a lie.

This time not because Kai's presence puts him on edge, he can't possibly give his attention to anything else, but because he's busy finding reasons as to why Kai is not present.

Why did Kai, the diligent student take his first leave today of all days? He's responsible and caring enough about his education to email the professor and even scan their work and send it along with it, Taehyun is grateful for that.

But he still cannot understand.

Later when he meets up with Yeonjun and Soobin in the library he finds out Beomgyu had missed all of his classes that day. He asked Yeonjun for the reason, but the latter shrugged and said something about a family trip.

Taehyun thought that was odd. Not that Beomgyu can't take leave either now or then, skipping college is quite common, not in their circle though. What was odd was that Yeonjun himself sounded like he didn't believe that.

He chose not to dwell on it, especially since the conversation suddenly changed and he missed his momentum.

He clears his mind and tunes into the conversation about the new Pokémon bread kinds.

Pokémon, that is what he should be thinking about.

......................

"10 white roses, please."

Kai hands the flower seller a 20 bill, for tip. She shakes her hand, laughing as she rejects it, but he insists. "You must work very hard to keep these flowers alive. And so beautiful too." His monotonous tone gives the compliment a different meaning.

"Please, take it."

She knows who he is, he can see the hesitance on her face as the forced smile slowly drops and she accepts the tip with shaky hands.

He takes the bouquet of roses wrapped nicely in a satin wrap and tied together in a ribbon. Kai leaves the store.

"Hey, Dad." He stands in front of the familiar grave. Its side is still broken, a piece of stone missing from the gravestone. It has been ever since people vandalized it, right after he died. Kai rests the bouquet on the stale-yellow grass and opens a bottle of water. He cleans the dirt and dust from the scratched, beaten-up grave. It's not much but he does so every year.

There is little to no difference but in his mind, if he keeps the stone clean, then some part of his dad's distinguished, respectable image comes back. Some part of his dad that only he knew comes back to life and he can indulge in that feeling for just a few seconds.

"It's flowers." He unwraps the roses and lays them on the grave, scattered. "You hated flowers, I know. Would you mind accepting them just for today?" The question hangs in the air and Kai sighs. He sits down beside the stone, leaning his head on it. "Of course, you'd mind. Nothing ever passes by you."

He fishes into his pocket and takes out 2 cigarettes. He lights one, and the other is placed next to the closest rose to him.

He closes his eyes and breathes the smoke deep into his lungs, deeper than needed. He lights another, and another watching the sun fade away alongside his air and by the time the packet is fully empty, having smoked it all throughout the entirety of the day.

He flicks the end of his last cigarette, bundling all the butts inside his hand. He refuses to trash anything that belongs to his dad, even if it's the mere grass next to his name.

It's the same each year. The only day he allows himself to do nothing at all but sit and think. Sit and mourn. Sit and regret over the things he said or didn't, the things he should have done but didn't. It's his day to sit and think what could have happened differently.

"I... "It's the first he speaks since he lighted that first cigarette. It has been hours since and it is already past midnight. It's just him and the grave, he reminds himself. It doesn't stop the tears from springing into his eyes.

Every year.

He presses his palms against his eyes, hard. The tears come out but there is no sound leaving his mouth but the same words he struggles to get out. "I miss you." He choked, talking to the only person who ever understood, whoever he could talk to without worrying about anything else. Consult, confined with.

"I feel so vacant, Dad."

The only person he knew who was like himself. The only other 'different'.

Now there is just one.  

..................

Author's note.

A short chapter today, because I'm coming down with some coughing and fever which is not nice....
Thank you universe😕 umm, kind of busy with college and work and life but I'll push through for yall. I already have 10k words written other then what I've updated so far. So that's nice.

Anyways, constructive criticism is encouraged (it's not) goodnight💙