I wasn't suicidal. I'd never take my own life. But that didn't mean I had to want to live. I already felt like an empty shell, a body with no heart. What was there to live for?

°•°♡°•°

Work had been busy, unfortunately, and by the time I got home, I was exhausted. I entered my apartment, immediately being attacked by the little white ball of fluff. I knew he probably had to go outside, so I opened the back door, and he quickly ran out and down the stairs, lifting his leg on the post at the bottom.

I shook my head, thinking he could have gone out and peed on the single tree in the yard instead of the banister post.

Shit...I forgot to grab paper to make flyers.

I sighed. I'd have to grab it next shift.

The little fluff ball ran back up the stairs and in the door, straight to the empty bowls on the floor, sitting down in front of them. I laughed, and grabbed the small bag of dog food from the shelf and dumped some in his food bowl. I picked up the water bowl, filling it up at the sink and putting it next to the other one.

I looked in my fridge for something to eat, finding nothing that interested me. I saw two bananas on the counter, so I grabbed one, and a can of coke, and headed into the living room to park my derriere on the couch and be lazy for a half hour.

To my delight, I heard a rumble of thunder, and then the sound of rain hitting the windows rather frantically. I smiled as I chewed on my banana, wondering if I should go out and take a walk. The logical side of me said no, since it was obviously a thunderstorm, and could be dangerous.

Besides, I probably should go to bed soon. I loved getting up in the wee morning hours, and watching the darkness of the night slowly fade away, to be replaced with ever changing shades of grey, finally turning into muted shades of blue. I almost always went to bed early. Not that I slept. I tried, but most nights it was difficult.

I got up, and went to throw my banana peel and soda can away, deciding I would lay in bed and listen to the rain. Maybe it would lull me to sleep.

I made a stop in the bathroom, then washed my face and brushed my teeth, making a face since the taste of the banana didn't mix well with my toothpaste.

My bed wasn't made, but then, I never made it. What was the sense. I was just going to mess it up later anyway. No one would ever see it but me, so what did it matter?

I climbed up, flopping onto my back, spreading my arms and legs like a starfish. I closed my eyes, thinking back to when I was young. Before my sister was even born. I wished I could go back to that time. Not because I wouldn't want my sister here, I wouldn't give her up for anything. But just because it was...simpler. Everything was simpler, less stressful.

I jumped when an extremely loud boom vibrated the windows, but I wasn't afraid, just startled. A flash of lightening lit up the room for a split second, and then it was dark again.

Maybe I would check out that coffee shop tomorrow morning. What was it called? Perk something. I couldn't remember. But I was curious to see the blond boy that always flipped the sign. I wanted to see if he was as cute as I imagined him to be.

If it was raining, I would just have to go to the coffee shop first, and then go to the park across the street to play in the rain. But there was a chance it wouldn't be raining. It didn't rain everyday.

Soon, the rainy season would slow down. Then I would be sad.

I pulled my arms and legs in, curling up on my side, and grabbing the extra pillow, hugging it to me. I closed my eyes, hoping for sleep.

I almost made it. My eyelids were too heavy to open, and I was feeling so relaxed, the calmness and serenity of sleep, thoughts of dreaming of a soft and beautiful rain, just within my reach.

And then there was a wiggling, tail wagging, fluffy ball of love on top of me, licking my face because, who needs sleep?

☆~☆~☆

I hadn't tried to go back to sleep. I didn't see the sense in it. It was 2am. I had to wake up at 4am anyway.

So I went down to the kitchen, made a cup of hot cocoa, and sat at the table. It was too quiet and calm. There was no Yoshi at my feet, staring up at me, wagging his tail in an attempt to get me to give him attention.

I didn't think he'd ever come back. It had been too long now. Over 3 weeks. Someone must have found him, and decided to keep him as their own.

He was cute enough to squirm his way into anyone's heart.

I hoped that whoever had him at least had kids. He would be happy with kids to play with. He was a ball of energy.

Maybe I would take the flyer down that I'd hung up inside the door at the coffee shop. Because either one of two things were true. Someone had found him, and taken him in. Or...he...hadn't survived the storm.

I hoped for it to be the first one.

I finished my cocoa, rinsing my cup out and turning it upside down on the towel next to the sink. I went back upstairs and took a shower, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and grabbing a pair of socks.

Once I had my socks and shoes on, I didn't see any good reason to just sit here waiting for 4am to roll around, so I grabbed my keys and umbrella and left the house, heading towards the coffee shop.

I walked the dimly lit streets, the city asleep, the houses all dark. The moon was the only thing I had to light my way.

At least it wasn't raining. Yet.

I reached the shop, and let myself in, locking the door behind me, and making my way towards the kitchen.

I would just immerse myself in baking.

Two and a half hours and a strawberry banana cake plus 4 dozen cookies later, Jimin came popping into the back, eyes widening in surprise when he noticed how much I had done.

"Holy Shit Tae, what time did you get here?"

I shrugged my shoulders, glancing at him then back to my cookie sheet.

"Around 3, I think."

"...Why?"

"I was awake. Why not?"

He was silent for half a minute.

"Are you okay, Taehyung?"

I looked at him, seeing the concern in his eyes. I didn't answer, my attention going back to the lumps of cookie dough I was dropping on the sheet.

"You're dreaming again, aren't you?"

There was no sense answering him, he already knew the answer.

"Tae, have you ever thought about talking to someone, maybe getting some he-"

"Don't." I snapped, looking up at him, my eyes narrowed in anger. "I don't need help."

"Taehyung, I'm only trying to-"

"Help me...I know. But I don't fucking need help."

"I disagree." He said calmly.

I clenched my jaw, trying to control my anger. I felt my eyes glaze over with tears.

"I lost my parents, and my younger brother and sister, to a terrible accident. They fucking died, Jimin, because some idiot was driving too fast for the road conditions. They're gone. I'll never get to talk to them, or hear their voices ever again. I'll never get to hug my mom, and tell her how much I love her, ever again. I'll never get to sit and have a conversation with my dad about how work is going, or how my love life is, or just life in general, ever again. I'll never get to play with my little brother or sister, or push them on the swings, or give them piggy back rides, ever again. Because they're fucking dead, Jimin. Dead."

My voice had gotten louder as I spoke, and I was yelling by the time I ended. I was breathing hard, my knuckles white as my fingers clenched tightly around the cookie scoop still in my hand. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"Don't tell me I need help." I said quietly. "I have a right to feel this way. When you've lost everyone you love, when you no longer have a family, and you can carry on and function as if nothing happened, then you can talk to me about needing help."

I looked up to see him watching me, his eyes overflowing with sympathy. He swallowed, then nodded. Without another word, he turned and walked back out front.

I stood there silently, closing my eyes, hating that I'd become so angry. But it's just who I am now.

☆~☆~☆

I pushed through the door to see Jungkook standing there, and the look on his face was enough to tell me that he had been there long enough to have heard everything.

I heard him draw in a breath, and I looked at him, our eyes meeting.

"He just needs more time, Hyung."

I shook my head slightly.

"It's almost 3 years Jungkook. He should at least be trying to move on."

"He lost his whole family. Can you even imagine how that would feel...to just lose everyone, all at once, with no warning."

"I don't even want to try to imagine that," I said quietly.

"Exactly. I agree that he needs to move on, and let them go. But we can't force him to do that. When he's ready, he will."

I knew Jungkook was right. But Tae wasn't even trying, and that's what pissed me off. It was almost as if he didn't want to let go of the pain and heartache of losing them. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that he thought he deserved to live with the misery and emotional suffering he put himself through.

He had to want it to get better. He had to be willing to try.

The door flew opened from the back, and Tae came out with a tray full of plates of cake, not looking at either of us as he opened the display case and put them in. When the tray was empty, he marched over to the small bulletin board on the wall near the front door, and pulled the sheet of paper off with the picture of Yoshi on it, announcing that he was lost and to please bring him here to the coffee shop if he'd been found. He crumpled it up in his hand, and on his way to the back, he tossed it into the garbage pail.

"Why'd you do that?" I sputtered.

He stopped, his hand on the door, not turning around.

"It's been over three weeks since he took off. Either someone found him, and has no intention of returning him, or he's...dead. I see no reason to leave it up there any longer."

He shoved through the door, and Jungkook and I just looked at each other.

"See what I mean. He's intentionally allowing himself to live in misery. He's giving up on any kind of happiness at all. Yoshi could still be out there somewhere, maybe who ever found him hasn't even seen a flyer, yet he's just going to give up. I can't feel sorry for him if that's how he's going to be."

"I don't think he wants you to feel sorry for him hyung. I think he just wants you to understand, and be there for him."

I sighed deeply.

"I do understand Kookie. I know his heart is shattered, God, he's gone through something no one should ever have to go through. I'm not saying he should be skipping around here with a huge smile on his face acting like everything is perfect. But if he never even tries to let go of the pain, it's going to consume him. It's already got a pretty good hold. I don't want to see him suffering like this for the rest of his life. He is capable of finding happiness. But he has to want to.