Chapter Text
For the last week, things have been… weird, to say the least.
And his little brother was at the centre of that weirdness.
Eun-ho has always considered himself a fairly observant person, as he was naturally good at deciphering body language and facial expressions. So he caught on to Eun-gyeol’s odd behaviour almost immediately.
The sudden emotional outbursts, the clinginess, the confusion, the oddly heartfelt or weird comments, the nightmares he thought no one noticed, the sneaking out at night — it was weird. Eun-gyeol was generally a mature and obedient kid. He had his moments of rebellion and teenage angst, sure, but it was nothing like this. Never like this.
At first, Eun-ho had been willing to ignore Eun-gyeol’s odd behaviour since he was juggling school, training for the upcoming tour, and his not-so-secret girlfriend. He was stressed, and this could simply be his own weird way of coping with that. However, that course of action had been discarded when he stumbled upon Eun-gyeol crying for what must have been the fifth time in less than a week.
He had barged into Eun-gyeol’s empty room while his little brother was supposed to be at school in search of the jacket he had borrowed from him a couple of days prior. The room was uncharacteristically clean, and his jacket was nowhere to be seen, but Eun-ho wasn’t deterred, turning his focus towards the walk-in closet.
The sight that awaited him when he pushed the door open stopped him in his tracks.
Because there was Eun-gyeol, pressed against the back wall of the closet with his face buried in his knees, and crying. Not the solitary tears Eun-ho had seen him shed a few times since his band’s performance at the launch event for Goliath, but the kind of sobs that wracked your whole body and made it hard to breathe.
Eun-ho was at his side in an instant, eyebrows furrowed with confusion and worry as he signed rapidly, trying to figure out what was wrong. Eun-gyeol just shook his head, hiding his face with his arms and curling into himself as if he was ashamed that Eun-ho caught him like this.
Unsure of what else to do, Eun-ho sat by him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side. That was all the prompting Eun-gyeol needed to throw himself into the hug as if he was starved for affection, his arms wrapping around Eun-ho’s torso like a vice. Eun-ho hugged him back despite his confusion, gently patting his back as he trembled. The gesture only served to make him cry even harder, rather than comfort him as Eun-ho intended.
Eun-ho's mind raced as they sat there, trying to make sense of what was going on. Something had clearly changed with his brother ever since the launch. Had he been hurt? Was he getting bullied again?
Whatever it was had clearly traumatized Eun-gyeol, and for some reason, he didn’t feel comfortable coming to either Eun-ho or their parents about it.
Eun-ho’s eyes caught a patch of discolouration underneath Eun-gyeol’s collar as he scanned his body for injuries or other signs of bullying, and he frowned, craning his head to get a better look. It looked like… a bruise?
Eun-gyeol pulled back before he could confirm what he’d seen, his face red and puffy as he wiped the last of his tears away with his sleeves. He still looked like he was seconds away from bursting into tears when he finally met Eun-ho’s worried gaze. “Sorry”, he signed. “I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt.”
That was the least of Eun-ho’s worries at the moment.
“It’s fine. Are you okay? What happened? Why aren’t you at school?”
Eun-gyeol gave a weak shrug. “Nothing happened. I just didn’t feel like going today.”
“Nothing? I don’t buy that at all!” Eun-ho signed back furiously, incredulity written all over his face. “I haven’t seen you cry like that since we were kids! Don’t lie to me. I know something happened. You’ve been acting strange recently. I’m worried, Eun-gyeol.”
Eun-gyeol didn’t answer him immediately, picking at his fingers with a miserable look on his face. “It really is nothing, hyung,” he reassured with a smile that looked more like a pained grimace. “I was just overwhelmed.”
Eun-ho frowned, pressing his lips into a thin line as he searched Eun-gyeol’s face for any clue as to what was really tormenting him. He sighed when Eun-gyeol didn’t budge, pushing down the sense of helplessness that choked him every time his brother refused to confide in him or ask him for help out of his stupid fear of burdening them with his problems.
“Go wash your face. I’ll get you some water in the meantime,” Eun-ho ordered, patting Eun-gyeol’s shoulder as he got up. The smile on Eun-gyeol’s face loosened into something more real, relief shining in his eyes as he realized Eun-ho wasn’t pushing the issue.
As fucking if.
Eun-ho wasn’t going to push it right now because Eun-gyeol already looked miserable enough when he wasn’t interrogating him, but Eun-ho wasn’t about to let this go. The last time something like this happened, Eun-gyeol had been hiding the fact that he had been getting bullied for over a year, and badly at that.
He was keeping an eye on him until he figured out what was going on.
Eun-gyeol was still in the washroom when Eun-ho returned with a water bottle and a cold compress, so he sat at his desk and opened his laptop. The two of them had started watching a new show together, but their schedules rarely ever matched up enough for them to enjoy it together. They might as well take advantage of Eun-gyeol playing hooky for the first time in forever.
Eun-ho paused as the screen lit up to reveal a Google search of Eun-gyeol’s own history and career in music, blinking at it in bewilderment. Why would he search that up?
Come to think of it… he had searched their mom up as well, on the day of the launch and seemed oddly surprised by all the achievements that had been listed there, as if he hadn’t been around for nearly all of them.
An uneasy feeling washed over Eun-ho as he leaned forward, sifting through all the different tabs Eun-gyeol had left open. All of them were searches of their family members, their parents’ friends, and Eun-gyeol’s bandmates. Eun-ho himself was there as well, his Instagram account seemingly stalked from top to bottom as the picture displayed on the screen was one he’d taken back when he first started his account in middle school.
Why would Eun-gyeol be searching all of these things up? It was as if he was trying to piece together information about his own life...
A chill went down Eun-ho’s spine as he realized the more he thought about his brother’s odd behaviour, the more it made a frightening amount of sense. All of the weird comments and questions Eun-ho had dismissed as Eun-gyeol’s usual absent-mindedness came rushing to the surface. Why had he not recognized their parents’ friends, as if Uncle Hyun-yul hadn’t been the first to gift him a guitar when he learned of Eun-gyeol’s talent for it, and Uncle Ma-joo wasn’t Dad’s closest friend as well as Eun-gyeol’s literal boss? Why had he searched up their mother of all people? Why did he stare at the family portrait in the hall as if he had no memory of how it got there?
These questions did nothing to alleviate his growing sense of anxiety. Still, none of that definitively proved that Eun-gyeol had issues with his memory. Why would he have them to begin with? He was doing well in school and he seemed healthy enough, so…
The bruise he’d seen on Eun-gyeol’s neck suddenly flashed in his mind. Had he hit his head? Could this be the aftereffects of some kind of head wound?
Eun-ho shook his head. He was overthinking this. Eun-gyeol wasn’t stupid. As stubbornly self-sacrificing as he could be, there was no way he would keep quiet about head trauma and memory problems. There was another explanation for all of this.
He closed the laptop just as Eun-gyeol left the bathroom, looking marginally better than he had a few minutes ago. “Feeling better?” Eun-ho asked, receiving a weak thumbs-up in response. “Want to watch something with me then?”
Eun-gyeol’s face brightened a bit at the offer. “I’ve been meaning to watch that new show, Bloodhounds. Ji-oh was talking about it the other day, and it sounds cool.”
Eun-ho’s heart sank at the response, but he nodded anyway, careful not to let his turmoil show on his face as they made their way down to the living room.
Bloodhounds. The same show they started watching together nearly two weeks ago. Eun-gyeol was acting as if Ji-oh’s recommendation had been the first time he had heard of it. Did he really… not remember?
He seemed to have no trouble recognizing everyone aside from their parents’ friends, and Eun-ho only had to remind him of who they were before recognition flashed in his eyes. So perhaps it was a temporary issue where he just needed a little push to recall specific details or events?
Eun-gyeol waved a hand in front of Eun-ho’s face to grab his attention, pulling him from his troubled thoughts. “Want any snacks before we start?”
“I wish.” Eun-ho sighed wistfully. “Coach would kill me if I ruined my diet with nationals around the corner.”
“More for me then,” Eun-gyeol signed smugly. He danced out of Eun-ho’s range when Eun-ho swiped at him, laughing as he disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a tub of Mom’s Watermelon Sugar ice cream.
“Ice cream after a crying session? Did you get broken up with or something? Trying to eat your feelings away?” Eun-ho teased, chuckling when Eun-gyeol shot him an affronted look.
“You would know all about that, wouldn’t you, Mr. Heartbreaker?”
Eun-ho smirked. "It’s not my fault girls think I’m cute.”
Eun-gyeol rolled his eyes, tossing Eun-ho the remote before flopping down on the couch and making himself comfortable. He was quickly engrossed with the TV as the first episode began to play, periodically shovelling ice cream into his mouth when he realized it was melting before getting distracted once more.
He didn’t notice the way Eun-ho kept an eye on him the whole time, fruitlessly searching for any spark of recognition in his eyes. As the ending credits played, Eun-ho could only resign himself to the truth.
Eun-gyeol didn’t remember.