物の哀れ (The pathos of things) for crownkissed

[artistalks]

For: crownkissed
From: Anonymous for now

Title: 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)
Rating: PG
Word count: ~4900 words
Summary: Yifan was writing himself into an early grave when he met Baekhyun, who believed in living.
Warning/s pre-narrative minor character death, non-eating disorder weight loss mentions
Notes: Firstly an enormous thanks to the mods for letting me participate and then for being so understanding in the face of health issues. I owe you ten. Secondly, a heartfelt thanks/apology to my recipient for the brilliant prompts; I would have tried my hand at the film one if time had permitted, and I'm really sorry if you were expecting something different from this one. If you'd been hoping for smut I want to apologize sincerely, I'd planned on it but it didn't seem to fit in the narrative, but if you want an outtake I could probably write you one. Thirdly, my heart as thanks to A for beta-ing despite being terribly busy writing as well as beta-ing for kinder writers. Last but not least, thanks to tlist for being there and of course to the one who needs to believe in herself. I believe enough for two.

The definitions are mostly from Wikipedia but edited for flavour, everything else I wrote myself.



Exposition
The exposition introduces all of the main characters in the story. It shows how they relate to one another, what their goals and motivations are, and the kind of person they are. Most importantly, the audience gets to know the protagonist and his or her main goal and what is at stake if he or she fails to attain this goal.

"We're sorry to inform you that your manuscript has been declined."

Kris watched, silent, as the world fell down around his dusty feet.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

He watched, still behind the glass, as the birds swooped and soared, his fingers tracing their pattern in the air. His fingertips burned. Another rejection. I will never be good enough for this.

Yifan wondered, not for the first time, if he should just cut his losses and go back to the office. Back to the grey days of numbers and lines, building houses for people who didn't want to be alive. I'll die. But was he really living?

There was a small nip at his ankle. Lilly, wanting to be fed. He banged his head against the glass, the sound startling the birds perched on the balcony railing. I'm a terrible person.

Rubbing his aching forehead, he got some food for the small white toy poodle, giving her an apologetic pat on the head as she gulped down her food.

This is the last try.

It was quiet there, in the emptiness, all the colours blurring to grey before everything went dark.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

He'd been having trouble sleeping, even though that was all he seemed to do lately. Try to sleep, try to write, forget to eat. Occasionally remember to take Lilly for a walk. Get another rejection.

Today he was resolved to start fresh. The best for last. Lilly was so happy when she saw him take her leash out of the closet; he only felt worse.

"I'm sorry Lilly," he said, picking her up and giving her a snuggle. She licked his cheek happily. It's a good thing you don't hold grudges.

Pulling a sweater over his head - it was strange how he always seemed to feel cold lately - they took the elevator down and headed out into the early morning. Lilly took an interest in a squirrel running along the trees that lined the sidewalk, and they spent an enjoyable several minutes following the tiny chattering thing until Yifan began to feel a bit faint.

What's wrong with me?

They continued on a little bit until he started to see grey wings fluttering at the sides of his vision. Even Lilly seemed to be worried. Finally he sank onto a bench, Lilly jumping onto his lap. He was so cold.

Kris wanted to open his mouth, to say something, anything, but there was nothing to say.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

There was a red cross mirrored in the damp concrete of the path. A pharmacy. Maybe they'll have something.

He stood up, Lilly hanging close about his ankles, and staggered through the door. A tiny bell tinkled overhead, cutting through the haze.

"Can I maybe buy something for sleeping?" His voice was much quieter than he was expecting; there seemed to be nothing in his chest.

Why does everything sound so far away?

He was barely aware of Lilly barking frantically, at what he didn't know, and there was someone with dark hair standing behind the dispensary -

"You don't need medicine," a voice was somehow talking in his ear, warm arms holding him up off the ground. Lilly was silent.

But then, as Kris watched, tiny bits and pieces of reality knitted the world back together, stitch by stitch.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

He was somehow sitting in the backseat of a taxi, the cool leather smooth under his fingers. Lilly? He blindly reached out his arm -

"Don't worry, I have her here."

The man from the pharmacy was sitting beside him in the taxi -I suppose I should really be surprised at this point? - but he wasn't. He only nodded numbly and tucked his cold fingers back against the rough fabric of his pants. The sound of the tires on the street and the stranger's absent-minded humming lulled him to sleep.

"Hello?" There was a soft tugging on his sleeve; he stirred fretfully. It's too early. There was a polite yip - Lilly - and Yifan regretfully opened his eyes.

He was in the back seat of a taxi and he couldn't remember - oh wait, mornings and a squirrel and sitting down - "who are you?"

The stranger sighed but the sound wasn't annoyed, rather, vaguely ... affectionate? "I'm Baekhyun. And I'm very happy to be doing introductions, it's the polite thing to do after all, but maybe we can leave them until after I get some food into to you?"

Yifan, bewildered, found himself being coaxed out of the taxi, Lilly encouraging with soft yips,and when his legs were a little wobbly Baekhyun only nodded to himself and swung him up into his arms.

"But I'm taller than you.." Yifan protested, ineffectually tugging at Baekhyun's sleeve.

"And you also weigh less than those cardboard standees that get soaked in the rain outside make up shops," Baekhyun retorted, the lightness of his tone unable to hide the undercurrent of concern in his voice.

I know I don't take care of myself but I need to write this book or die trying.

He started to open his mouth again but Baekhyun only glared and walked into the café, Lilly trotting politely at his heels.

"Hi Baek!" There was a grinning young man behind the counter; as soon as he saw Lilly he clapped his hands in delight. "A poodle!" Yifan his his face, embarrassed, in Baekhyun's shirt. I can't believe someone else is seeing me like this.

"Hi Zitao, can you whip me up some of the most fortifying soup you can think of?" Baekhyun finally set him down in an leather armchair at a dark wood table; Yifan sank down into the worn softness in relief, Lilly jumping up to cuddle in his lap. The grain was smooth against his cheek, whispering secrets.

Zitao appeared shortly after with a steaming bowl on a tray. Why is the sky darker? he looked around confused - the shadows cast by the hexagonal mazes on the windows had shifted.

Baekhyun noticed his expression. "You were sleeping again," he frowned. Yifan pretended not to notice, cupping his hands around the warm porcelain. The soup smelled like heaven and for the first time in days - months - he felt hungry.

Zitao grinned. "It's my mom's secret recipe." The steaming broth slipped smoothly over his tongue and slid down his throat and he sighed, running his fingers over the grooves on the outside of the bowl. Mazes everywhere. Lilly licked his hand approvingly.

It wasn't until he'd finished the entire bowl, the soft sound of the metal spoon lightly grazing the porcelain as he finished the last drop, that he remembered.

"I never told you my name?" He looked up. Zitao was back behind the counter, chatting with some customers - when did that happen? - but Baekhyun was sitting in the chair across from him, sipping from a steaming plum-coloured cup and looking at him with a curious expression.

"Yes?" The tone was hard to place.

"I'm Yifan," he said, suddenly shy. How do I say goodbye?

"Nice to meet you, Yifan," Baekhyun nodded. "Where do you live?"

Conflict
The main characters have been established and events begin to get complicated for them. The protagonist understands his or her goal and begins to work toward it. Smaller problems thwart his or her initial success and, in this phase, progress is directed primarily against these secondary obstacles. This phase shows us how the protagonist overcomes these obstacles. This element of the plot is where excitement, tension and crisis are encountered.

Somehow they lived in neighbouring apartments. Baekhyun laughed while Yifan wondered how many other neighbours he didn't know, to which the sad answer was all of them.

"I always wondered who that strange recluse in the next apartment was," Baekhyun said, keying in the door code he had somehow slipped out of Yifan on the taxi ride home, his slender fingers tapping an offbeat on the plastic door handle. Yifan looked at his feet, at his strangely baggy trousers. Didn't these use to be tighter?

He was glad his apartment was clean at least, the only mess crumpled papers scattered in white drifts over the dining room table. Baekhyun ignored them completely however, frowning at the empty kitchen cabinets and refrigerator but managing to scrounge up some tea which he threatened to pour down Yifan's throat when he protested.

Yifan watched, bemused, as Lilly showed Baekhyun where her kibbles were, sipping the warm liquid as Baekhyun took over his house.

"Are you capable of taking a bath or are you doing to fall asleep and drown in the bathtub?" His cup was somehow empty and the shadows on the floor had crept up to touch the table legs.

"I'm clean!" Yifan protested. I'm not an invalid. This had no effect on Baekhyun, who washed his hair, his knobbly knees propped up on a folded towel from the linen cupboard, as long fingers massaged his scalp. He was half sleeping again by the time his newly-discovered neighbour was done rinsing his hair; Baekhyun sighed and rummaged for the hair dryer.

"You're so hopeless. How are you even alive?"

Yifan only shrugged, yawning, as Baekhyun gave up and tucked him into bed, Lilly jumping up to snuggled beside his chest.

Light grew out of what had been dark and the ashes around his feet began to flow together, time flowing forward by reversing towards the future.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

He was lying in bed, linen sheets smooth under his fingers, early morning sunlight filtering through the blinds. I feel like I've slept for ten years. Lilly was sighing lightly under his arm; he ran his fingers through her soft hair. Music drifted into the room with the dust motes dancing in the air; someone was singing.

As if in a dream he pushed the covers down the bed, Lilly whining softly in her sleep as his feet touched the warm bamboo floor. Through the archway of his bedroom, tiny strings of beads clacked gently as Yifan stood, watching Baekhyun in his kitchen.

He was singing.

The black-haired man looked up from the the counter where he was pouring hot water from a copper kettle over tea leaves and dried flowers layered artfully in a glass teapot.

"You're awake!" He smiled, setting the kettle back on the stove.

"That's not my kettle?" Yifan was confused. He'd slept better than he could ever remember having done and things were somehow too clear. Baekhyun only laughed softly.

"I just brought it over. You're having a cup of tea before showering and getting dressed and then coming to my apartment for breakfast." He nodded firmly, pouring Yifan a cup of golden sunshine before departing.

"And don't forget to feed Lilly," he called out behind him as the door closed with a gentle thud.

Yifan glared at the offending door. I know how to take care of my dog thank you very much.

Seconds coalesced like notes, a string of moments joining to create a song of days spilling into weeks and months and years. Kris couldn't stop listening as his disembodied fingers spilled through eternity.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

Breakfast flowed into lunch, Baekhyun chopping up onions and sautéeing them with excruciating slowness, the scent of them caramelizing over the span of thirty minutes causing Yifan's stomach to flip flop in anticipation. A laughing Baekhyun took pity on his sad expression and fed him bits of baguette with butter, scolding him for trying to sneak some to Lilly as well.

"Dogs aren't supposed to have gluten." Lilly barked disgustedly as Baekhyun confiscated the offending morsel, stuffing it into Yifan's mouth. "You need to eat more anyway!"

As Yifan finished the last of the pasta carbonara, sighing in happiness as he dabbed at a trailing dot of cream on his mouth with a cheerfully checked napkin, Baekhyun spoke up.

"I don't want to offend you, but why are you so emaciated?" The room fell quiet, but the only skeleton in the room was still breathing.

"Umm." Yifan didn't know what to say. Lilly jumped down from the sofa where she'd been pouting at the lack of treats and bumped his leg gently.

"I kind of quit my job to write full time," Yifan said in a small voice, "but the publishing companies don't seem to agree." He looked down at his empty plate, swirls and lines than held no meaning.

Baekhyun made a disapproving sound. "So you locked yourself up in your room and tried to squeeze a story out?" He set his fork and spoon down on the porcelain plate, the metallic cling echoing through the room. Lilly looked up, startled, and gave a disapproving yip.

"If you want to write," Baekhyun said, "you have to live."

When Yifan darted a glance up at the shorter man's face, he saw a determined expression softened by eyes sparkling with amusement.

Spring was born and grew into summer, fading gently into autumn before expiring with a soft winter's breath, expectant with the new year.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

Yifan got used to waking up to the sound of singing. Baekhyun would feed him tea and cart him next door for breakfast, which they would eat while he stubbornly refused to tell Yifan anything about the day.

"Don't you have work?" Yifan protested in a last-ditch attempt to be left alone. Not that he really wanted to be left alone. But I should, shouldn't I? He didn't know, and the bubbling sound of Baekhyun's voice didn't help.

"I took a vacation," Baekhyun waved his hand in the air absentmindedly, fingers cutting through shadows. "You're too much fun." Yifan looked down at his French toast and pretended that his cheeks weren't turning pink.

Pink was the colour of the cherry blossoms as they had picnics, Baekhyun packing tiny English sandwiches and California rolls and poking fun at Yifan for cutting the fruit crooked, absentmindedly singing to himself as Yifan scribbled ideas in his notebook. Your voice sings the seasons into being. Lilly cavorted through the grass chasing butterflies and Yifan couldn't remember seeing her happier.

Baekhyun knew a lot about writing which he loved to sprinkle though the day with practical examples.

"How do you know so much about writing?" Yifan was sitting in his favourite leather armchair at Zitao's cafe, drinking a steaming Americano and shivering from the sudden rain shower but not wet, thanks to the umbrellas that had miraculously been waiting for them at the foot of the pedestrian bridge. Deus ex machina my foot.

"I may be a pharmacist but my electives were all in creative writing," Baekhyun smirked. Yifan didn't miss the wink the black-haired idiot sent to the man who should have been behind the counter but was instead playing hide and seek with Lilly between the table legs. Zitao isn't a very convincing god.

Chekhov's gun was only illustrated haphazardly by Baekhyun's gushing about a new Madeleine tin he'd ordered online before presenting Yifan with a warm basket of the golden sponge cakes the next morning at breakfast. Life is too messy for a spare narrative.

And everything that Baekhyun did was a red herring, talking about aquariums only to end up at the zoo, complaining about Lilly's non-existent barking problem only to try to teach her how to sing alto to his delightful tenor, complaining that it was late only to never let Yifan leave. He was beginning to think that his entire life was one big MacGuffin. Will I ever write anything?

He didn't know how it happened, but all of a sudden he was staying at Baekhyun's house all the time, Lilly's food bowl on the black-and-white tiled floor of Baekhyun's kitchen, his papers spread over the unused dining room table because Baekhyun preferred to eat at the counter in the kitchen. He woke up one morning in Baekhyun's bed, cuddled up in the feather comforter, Baekyun singing in the kitchen as usual. They didn't discuss the sudden turn of events, Yifan always drifting off to sleep on the sofa and waking up to Baekhyun bustling in the kitchen. I don't know what's happening. But he couldn't find the words to ask.

Climax
The point of climax is the turning point of the story, where the protagonist makes the single big decision that defines the outcome of the story and who he or she is as a person. Depending on the kind of conflict being faced (protagonist vs. antagonist, protagonist vs. self, etc.) the actions at this point in the work can be either physical or mental.

Yifan was sitting at the counter, white paper and blue ink staining his fingertips, when he finally found the courage to ask a lesser question.

"Why did you help me, that first day?" His voice wasn't loud but even the simmering of the saucepans on the stove couldn't disguise the sudden silence.

"Do you really want to know?" Baekhyun sounded ... sad. Yifan was alarmed; Baekhyun was never sad, Baekhyun was light and sunshine and words dancing across his page.

"Yes?" Both of them could hear the question at the end of his sentence. Baekhyun sighed and poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle he'd used for the sauce.

"I had a brother," he began. Yifan's fingers curled up, balling the page in his palm, at the use of the past tense.

"You don't have to-" he began, but Baekhyun cut him off.

"It's okay." He smiled, the upturn of his mouth speaking more of bittersweet chocolate than truffles. He stirred the sauce carefully for a moment, before speaking at the wall.

"When I was ten years old I was walking with my brother." The simmering in the pan was very loud; a bubble bursts and a drop of boiling liquid leaps out of the pan to sting Baekhyun's cheek. He wipes it off absentmindedly with the back of one hand, adjusting the flame with the other.

"It was raining, and we were late for school, but there was water in my boot." He took a quiet breath; Yifan stopped breathing. "I stopped to shake it out and he -" He stopped for a moment, before smiling softly at the rain outside the window. "He stopped in the road to look back at me and that's when the car hit him."

The stillness of the room was broken by the the raindrops striking the windows. The shadows formed as they crept back up the glass cast lines across Baekhyun's face; reverse tears.

"I will never be able to forget that sound." Baekhyun took a small sip of wine. Yifan swallowed. The rain picked up, the sound crescendoing in the room.

"I saw him in the coffin, lying on the white silk, and he looked like he was sleeping but it was all wrong. It was just a skeleton." He looked at Yifan, setting his glass down on the counter. "And when you walked into the pharmacy that's what you looked like."

Yifan didn't know what to say - an apology was just waiting to fall out of his mouth but it felt wrong. The paper between his fingers was crushed.

"And I thought," Baekhyun continued, looking right at Yifan's wide eyes, "that I didn't want to see that again."

The shadows on the wall lengthened. The sauce simmered to fragrant completion and Baekhyun turned off the flame.

"It wasn't on purpose?" Yifan finally felt like he had to say something, anything ...

"That's what made it worse," Baekhyun retorted, dishing up the plates, but he smiled as he said it and Yifan felt better. "Anyway, it's not going to happen again." He set a full plate of food in front of the taller man with a resounding thump.

But time wasn't linear and things didn't always flow forward. Kris couldn't escape his history, the non-existent past still swimming up out of the cracks in the summer-hardened ground.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

"I have to go home for a week." They were sitting at the counter, eating breakfast. The smell of cinnamon filled the room. Yifan looked up, surprised, Lilly peeking up over the counter.

"It's the anniversary of my brother's death," he explained. Yifan couldn't help but think but what about me? but he didn't say anything.

Baekhyun left him food in the refrigerator and firm instructions to eat regularly but also to get out of the house. Then he left, door closing behind him, the small click thundering through the emptiness. Lilly whined softly and hid her small head between her paws.

Yifan wrote. He sat at the counter and ate Baekhyun's food and wrote the emptiness away until he was finished. But after wrapping up the papers in a neat bundle and depositing them at the post office, the emptiness still crept in.

"You're such a sap," Zitao scolded him, playing with Lilly behind the counter as Yifan gazed blankly at the mazes on the windows, their shadows creeping slowly across the café floor. "The door is that way; go and tell him yourself." But even when Baekhyun came back, he still wouldn't have the words. My words are from you.

But he picked himself up and went home, perking up on the walk back as he decided to make madeleines as a surprise gift. He's coming home tomorrow.. He smiled at Lilly, who wagged her tail happily.

He hummed and sifted and folded and let the batter sit the right amount of time in the refrigerator, watching the sun sink down to scorch the horizon. He gently piped the golden mixture into the gently scalloped shell molds and set the timer and gently removed the small cakes from their molds, so pretty that he couldn't bear to try one. But he did anyway, the sweet smell of vanilla filling his nose as he bit down.

It was terrible.

Yifan swept everything into to the garbage, Baekhyun's apartment door slamming shut behind him, Lilly starting at the sound as she wove anxiously between his ankles.

All his mistakes piled up brick by brick to fence him in a maze of ciy buildings with no extrance or exit, every step leading in the wrong direction.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

His apartment felt wrong. The silence was too thick, the walls were too empty, He couldn't even bear to look at the kitchen with its empty cabinets and dry sink, but the bed was too cold and he couldn't sleep, watching the faint starlight through the city haze.

It's raining. He's back on the sidewalk; his book has just been rejected but he's gathered the pieces together to take Lilly for a walk.

It's raining.

Cars rush by, drenching him with water; he's soaked and shivering and Lilly whines as the grey wings start to descend.

And then he sees him.

Baekhyun.

Except he doesn't know who it is.

He's standing there, propped against a tree, and a black haired man on a telephone emerges from a pharmacy, mobile phone glued to one ear, other hand in his pocket as he talks animatedly "-ao stop being such a -"

Yifan sees the red car and he's just opening his mouth when everything stills, the water drops hanging suspended in the air, Lilly tugging at her lead.

There's a sickening thump and the sound of tires squealing as time begins moving again.

Denouement
It is here where events occur that will help to fully resolve the conflict. The results of actions that the protagonist has taken are presented as well as the results of decisions that have been made, whether good or bad for the characters. Loose ends are tied up, conflicts are concluded, outcomes are revealed and a happy or sad ending takes place.

Yifan woke up gasping, the phantom rain still soaking his face. He reached for Lilly but the bed was empty.

Why am I in my bed?

The dream crushed into him like a cold tide and he couldn't breathe, his feet twisted in the sheet and he stumbled out of bed, hands colliding with the bedroom wall -

Baekhyun was in the kitchen, making tea. The kettle had just boiled and he was joining the water into a teapot, the leaves layered in the glass staining the water red. As if in a dream, Yifan drifted forward, fingers grazing the cold marble of the counter top; he reached Baekhyun as he was just turning for a teacup.

"Hi Yifan," the shorter man said brightly, "why are you in your apart-" and then Yifan's mouth met his in the softest kiss as he cast the dream away.

And opened his eyes.

And jumped back, shocked, already stuttering apologies and explanations but Baekhyun took one long look at him, setting the kettle down on the stove with a firm clunk before walking forward to wrap his lips around Yifan's mouth, his arms fencing the taller man on either side into the counter.

No words were necessary.

But sometimes stepping out of the maze could be as easy as opening your eyes to what was around you; Kris looked up at the sky and flew.

- exerpt from 物の哀れ (The pathos of things)

Epilogue
An epilogue is a final chapter at the end of a story that often serves to reveal the fates of the characters. Some epilogues may feature scenes only tangentially related to the subject of the story. They can be used to hint at a sequel or wrap up all the loose ends. They can occur at a significant period of time after the main plot has ended. In some cases, the epilogue is used to allow the main character a chance to "speak freely."

Real life didn't have ends or beginnings or critically defining moments. Yifan woke up one morning to find a letter in the mail slot, "Congratulations! We love your story and are excited to be working with you in the publishing process." He smiled, set it on the kitchen counter, and walked over to the stove to wrap his arms around Baekhyun, his chin resting on the shorter man's shoulder.

"That smells so good I think my stomach is going to crawl out of my mouth and fall into the pan." His voice tickled the sensitive skin on his husband's neck.

Baekhyun didn't even bother to swat him away. "You know, for being a published author, your choice of description leaves a lot to be desired."

Yifan silenced him by pressing his lips to the tempting skin vibrating with Baekhyun's voice, but didn't get carried away. If the caramelizing onions burned, he would never be forgiven.