A Little Bit More

Chapter 3: Recollection

I used to think the night-time city skyline of Busan was the most gorgeous thing ever. Or maybe it was the dry leaves that crackled delightfully underfoot come the autumn. I had the time of my life running in the majestic red, orange and gold leaves, which reminded me of the cosy fires I loved.

But I'm wrong. The most beautiful thing ever is the pair of eyes looking down at me.

I know everything that was going on in the owner's head just by looking into them. They weren't like ordinary human's eyes- more arched and shaped rather like a fox's, except that they didn't glitter with dark malice and evil. These were filled with pure innocence- but I sense some unspoken feelings in those hazel irises.

The voices around me are much more clearer now.

"He's awake!" I recognise the deep throaty voice of JR.

"Nam-dongsaeng, what happened? What happened to you?" That came from Aron.

"Hyung, are you okay? Do you need anything? Are you sick? Why didn't you tell us?" Ren gabbles.

The brown eyes are gone.

I want to talk, but my throat feels as if it is on fire. I don't even know what happened to me. 

"I don't know," the doctor mutters, "some kind of internal ailment."

Our manager looks down at me and says, "Dongho, did something happen to you?" Whatever sound I can produce comes out raspy and intelligible. Looks like I wouldn't be able to talk for a while.

The doctor's face is creased with worry. "I don't know any specific cure for this...I can't do anything about it. It's all up to himself. He'll have to cure himself. What's affecting him is some internal emotion that he has bottled up for too long."

It takes me a while to get that in. I don't even know that I have some internal conflict. 

Aron knelt beside me and whispers, "Do you want anything?"

Yes, I struggle to say. I want to see the most beautiful thing again. Please. 

Aron doesn't understand moan-language. He hands me a pen and a piece of paper. "Write it down," he tried. 

I do just that. 

He is perplexed on seeing what I'd written. "The most beautiful thing...? What is it?" 

By then, I'd already figured out who those eyes belonged too. 

I'd once suffered from a raging fever- 40 degrees Celcius. No amount of medication, rest, or wet cloths could stop the temperature from rising. Things got so bad, I had to be admitted into the hospital under intensive care. For an eight-year-old, such a fever was fatal. I neared death, and my mother was at her wit's end. 

When Minhyun learned about it he begged his parents to bring him to the hospital. His mother was still displeased about Minhyun being friends with me, but relented. I couldn't very well sock him in the gut in that state, could I? 

When Minhyun arrived I was unconscious, but he waited quietly for me to wake up. He just sat there watching me, as what my mother told me. I finally woke up from sleep. And I saw his dark-eye-circled brown eyes. When his clammy little hands held mine I felt like I was holding a block of ice. Or  maybe it was the other way round.

Miraculously, my condition improved rapidly after Minhyun's visit. Everyone was amazed- the doctors and nurses, my parents and schoolmates, Minhyun and I. 

I want to see Minhyun. 

Aron looks at the scrawls on the piece of paper, then says, "Dongho, you know something? You've been out for five days. And Minhyun was waiting next to you every single minute. He never slept more than one hour at a time. He was the most anxious among all of us. We finally convinced him to have a rest. But he made us promise to tell him when you were awake. " He pauses. "I'll go get him."

The one minute that ticks by seems like an hour, but I can't do anything about it. 

"Hyung!" Minhyun dashes to my side. He's nearly crying from all that anxiety and worry. He says something that I didn't hear, because I'm too busy interpreting those shining eyes. 

His eyes mainly read relief now, but that unspoken feeling still lingers in him. What was it?

"...you have to get rid of it," he commands, "you have to get better. You have to."

I will. But I haven't discovered that suppressed feeling yet.