Oneshot: Three times a life, Kihae
Author: risabet
Title: Three times a life
Word count: 2616
Rating: PG
Summary: Kihae some twenty years from now. Kibum regrets what could have been and it scorches his soul for reasons he doesn’t like to assess, so he goes on a whirlwind journey to try and justify his sorrow to himself.


They had been in their early teens, him still a scrawny little kid with big ears and little confidence, while Donghae had been the big brother Kibum had never had. They’d skipped dance practice on that day, only that once during their trainee days, knowing they’d get such a shouting at, but still darting across the field behind the train station as fast as their feet allowed, and Kibum had never felt more free in his life.

He’d had no money on him, but Donghae had bought them both cheep popsicles from a convenience store, cheerfully brushing aside Kibum’s thanks and earnest promises of paying back. They had sat side by side on the stairs leading to the backdoor of the shop, eating the delicacies which the hot August sun had made melt within a matter of minutes, staining their mouths yellow and red.

Suddenly Donghae had leaned closer, wiped some of the juice off of Kibum’s cheek with the pad of his thumb and laughed at the mess they had been making.

Kibum’s heart had skipped a beat, and, come to think of it, had never quite regained its rhythm again.

“Kibummie-ah!” The said heart suddenly jumped at the calling voice, more familiar to Kibum than any other in the whole wide world. At first, for one bewildered moment, he almost believed that he had been taken back in time nearly twenty five years until his senses caught up with him. Kibum had never been much of a believer when it came to proverbs, but apparently it did pay off to speak of the devil. He spun around to see Donghae waving at him on the other side of the street, tip-toeing as he tried to see over the heads of the people crowding the streets, idle shoppers wandering through the city on a sunny Saturday forenoon. Kibum’s unbelieving expression broke into a grin.

“Donghae-sshi!” It was ridiculous for a man in his forties to make such a silly hassle over, well, pretty much anything, but that was exactly what Donghae was doing, shouting at Kibum to stay where he was as Donghae would get over there right away. Kibum watched his friend hurry to the crosswalk, apologize to a number of people he accidentally bumped into, and finally jog to where Kibum’s car was parked in a shade provided by a feeble seedling of a tree, a weak attempt from the city to brighten up the banks of Han River on this particular spot.

“Kibummie-ah,” Donghae repeated, eyes sparkling. He grabbed Kibum’s hand and gave it a hearty shake. Kibum barely had the time to miss the carefree hugs they used to share, when the brief touch was already over.

“Hyung, it’s been a while. How are you?”

“Good, good, thank you. Busy, but aren’t we always?” They smiled at each other, knowing they were both remembering their hectic idol days when a day never went past without one scheduled event or another. It felt like a million years since then already.

“And how about you, Bummie? How’s the family?” When had they grown old enough to start exchanging these courtesies instead of sharing the contents of their hearts?

“Oh, they’re fine, just fine. It’s Miyoung’s birthday today, actually, I’m here to get her a present. Yours?” Kibum could feel how his teeth were whiter and sharper around the words than he had meant to, like sunshine against a metallic surface. Donghae didn’t seem to notice.

“Great, Sunny and I just got back from a short trip we made to Hong Kong. A little time for ourselves between regular weekdays, you know? And the kids, god, they just keep growing every day! Sometimes I already feel like an old man.” You aren’t, Kibum wanted to tell him, standing right there like that, squinting in the sun, you don’t look a day older than twenty.

“Well, none of us can escape aging,” he said instead, the words sounding flat and empty even to his own ears.

“Except for possibly Ryeowook, but he always was too nice to be entirely human anyway,” Donghae laughed and glanced at his watch, his expression turning uncomfortable, “oh, Kibummie, I’m really sorry, I promised to pick the girls up at half past ten, and-“

“No, no, it’s okay, I understand. We can catch up later, have dinner or something.” With our families, of course.

“You know, that’s exactly what we’ll do. I’ll give you a call, okay? The little ankle-biters really miss their uncle Kibum,” Donghae reached forward and gave Kibum’s arm a small, companionable pat.

“Wow, still like iron,” he joked, making Kibum wish Donghae would never, ever leave. He watched his friend go until he could no longer tell his distant form apart from others in the midst of the hustle and bustle of Seoul. Miyoung’s birthday, he tried to remind himself, she’s turning thirty nine and you’re still not married. She’s probably expecting you to propose, or maybe she’s given up on the thought already. None the less, you need to get her something nice and you really need to forget about Lee Donghae, at least for now.

Kibum wandered to the window of a nearby jewelry store and stared at the sparkling multitude of rings and necklaces - white gold, silver, mother of pearl - with unseeing eyes until something reflecting off the glass caught his attention. Diagonally behind him was a car rental, a neat little office with equally neat but not quite so small cars standing in a row in front of it. Kibum could still recall the first time he had rented a car from a similar flashy, blue-and-green decorated enterprise.

They had been on their way to Mokpo with Heechul for some reason that had already escaped him, the company van having broken down a day or two before, forcing their manager to allow Heechul pick the only available car at the rental, a Kia too big and far too expensive for them. Heechul had been over the moon, revving the engine at every chance possible - it had been before his accident - and even Kibum himself had been uncharacteristically excited, not so much because of the car, but because it was the first time he got to see the town Donghae would always speak so fondly of.

In all honesty he hadn’t been much impressed in the end, because while the neat streets lined with beautiful flower arrangements had been nice, let alone the mountain that the city was propped against, Mokpo had still been nothing out of ordinary, save it for the fact that it was, ultimately, Donghae’s home. Kibum had only been there a handful of times after that, mostly because of work, but every now and then because of Donghae as well. At the memorial service on the tenth anniversary of Mister Lee’s death. At Donghae’s wedding. Mostly unhappy occasions from Kibum’s point of view, although he would have never admitted it to anyone.

The green and blue ribbons on each side of the office door stirred in the reflection as someone went inside, or possibly left, heading to an unknown direction with a pair of shiny keys in his hands. Kibum realized the staff at the jeweler’s was probably growing impatient with him hovering about there, scaring all potential customers away, and he knew he ought to step inside, leave, do something. It wasn’t a hard decision to make, when you thought of it, but the options were spinning inside his head like children at play, ring around the rosie, ring around the rosie, and he remembered his friends, oh so long ago, how their smiling faces had passed before him one at the time, always coming back to one in the end.

Oh, to hell with it.


He drove to Mokpo without pulling over once, over three hundred kilometers without a sound, save it for the roaring engine of the car he had rented from Seoul, leaving his own beetle green Ford behind, because it had seemed like a good idea at the time, because it had seemed like the most logical thing to do. He knew he had exceeded speed limits several times, practically kicking the pedal in frustration, and felt slightly guilty for it, but somewhere along the highway getting to Jeollanam-do had become the single most important thing he could bring himself to think of. Kibum briefly wondered whether he was slowly going insane after what felt like a thousand years of solitude, because this was not him, this was not Mister Kim Smooth-as-fucking-glass Kibum who never lost his cool or allowed his emotions to flare.

Yet another stop-sign went flying past him. Well, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry then by all means, world. Miyoung’s birthday had already been long forgotten.


He got lost twice on his way to the graveyard, pulling the car over each time and cursing at the map the helpful boy at the office had given him along with the car keys, before trying again to navigate through the narrower streets in the area where the actual city turned into a maze of suburbs. By the time he reached his ultimate destination it was well past the hottest time of the day, and clouds were building in the distance above the hills. It would probably be pouring by nightfall.

Getting out of the car was like waking up while still dreaming, the white tombstones like a sea, a distant, fading memory of what the West Sea might have been centuries ago. Kibum hesitated for a moment, scanning the area with his eyes. He then slammed the car door shut without bothering to lock it and ran for it, darting up and down between the well organized rows for what felt like hours until he found what he was looking for, the most important reef sticking out of the endless waves.

Kibum stood in front of the grave and leaned his hands against his thighs, out of breath after the effort he hadn’t been planning to make. Besides an old couple a few rows in front of him there was no one else in the graveyard, and only the the quiet rustle of leaves could be heard as a gentle breeze shook the branches of an ancient maple tree that stood just outside the gates. He closed his eyes and allowed his breathing to grow more even, minutes passing him by like birds at flight. It was beautiful out here, tranquil, calm and so horribly peaceful that it soon made Kibum almost want to turn around and run again, run away, to forget the frantic, mindless journey he had been on since he and Donghae had parted ways in the afternoon. He took a deep, shaky breath. Come on, Kim Kibum. Have some balls, will you now?

This wasn’t where it had all gone wrong, if that ever had even happened in the first place, and yet he felt like this was the only place he could come to to make things better. Hi again, Mr. Lee Senior. Summer is coming along, the magnolias are probably blooming again, I know your wife used to like them, and neither one of us is here to see it, because all we see is a certain son.

It could have been a little more simple, couldn’t it? Life shouldn’t have been about plain feelings getting forged into a perfect shape that had nothing to do with what they had been like in the first place.

When had Donghae’s happiness turned into something this dreadful to him?

It was such a dreary thought, a feeling just sad as Kibum himself, really, because that’s what he really was, he realized, so sad he couldn’t hold in the stubborn tears that fell onto the gravel at his feet and his fine Italian leather shoes as he hung his head down low. He had always tried so hard, but when had he stopped? Why had he never thought that it would already be enough?

It wasn’t that Kibum was unhappy with Miyoung, because he wasn’t. He had just never simply loved her quite as much as he had loved Donghae, without expectations and with significantly fewer reservations than he was in the habit of having. He had loved Donghae through every up and down of his life, or so it had seemed, during the first and last performance their group had had together, through the twenty four months they had spent groveling in dirt while serving in the army on the opposite sides of the country, even when Donghae had told of his and Sunny’s engagement and Kibum had finally returned Miyoung’s cautious displays of affection. It wasn’t Miyoung’s fault.

Donghae had been the brother Kibum had never had, but he had also been so much more.


Half an hour later Kibum was sitting in the backseat of the rented car, exhausted and sore, leaning his head against the rain-striped window. Even in the miserable state he was in he couldn’t help but smile at the sudden downpour. So he had gotten that wrong as well.

Two brightly coloured spots appeared at the edge of his vision and he turned his head just enough to see the old couple he had noticed earlier leave, each of them supporting a cheerful umbrella above their heads.

He watched them go, just like he had watched Donghae only half a day earlier. Maybe it was time for him to go as well. Maybe it was going to be for good this time.


When he finally came home in the small hours of the night he found Miyoung curled up in the biggest armchair in the living room, fast asleep. Kibum closed the door behind him quietly, sat down on the edge of sofa without stopping to take his shoes off and tried to see her through the eyes of a stranger; the still smooth skin, the soft hair cut short like a school girl’s, the tell-tale shadows under the closed eyes. He didn’t quite get to figure his thoughts out when she already stirred, letting out a small sigh, and opened her eyes.

“You’re home.” It was a simple statement, Miyoung’s sleepy voice betraying no emotion. Kibum vaguely recalled the day she had told him she was pregnant with their first and only child. Are you happy, oppa?

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I just. I don’t actually know what. Just, I’m sorry it took so long.” He really was sorry, he found to his amazement, for the first time in a while. Longer than a while. Miyoung’s birthday, her birthday, her birthday for god’s sake!

“It always will, won’t it, oppa?” Instead of being angry Miyoung chose to call him that, Kibum thought and turned his eyes away. She didn’t even sound half as disappointed as he had expected her to sound. The way Donghae had cried oh so many times over a multitude of things, wearing his fragile heart on his sleeve.

“I guess it will.” She nodded slowly and folded her long legs underneath herself in one fluid motion. For a moment they sat in silence, both lost in thought. The day Jaemin had been born. The last performance together as Super Junior. Donghae’s wedding.

“I can wait, oppa,” determination had crept into Miyoung’s voice, ”I can wait longer than it’ll ever take for you to come home.”

She would wait. It wasn’t an offer one got every day. The way Donghae smiled, the sun shining through the clouds after a year of rain.

The old couple at the graveyard, movements slow but flowing together seamlessly. Side by side, just like on that faraway day.

Eventually, he would come.




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Notes: Inspired by everything meiface ever wrote, a multitude of songs and the fact that no one is young forever.

Please do point out all possible mistakes and sillynesses!

Comments and criticism always much appreciated!