Pictures At An Exhibition
Title: Pictures At An Exhibition
Pairing(s): QMi
Genre(s): Romance
Length: 6930 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There are many universes that make up the world we know. Some exist, some don’t. It just depends on what you believe in.
Inspiration(s): This is basically a throw all of my plot bunnies into one storyline fic. Title is from the classical piano work by Modest Mussorgsky, which is a musical commentary on an art exhibition. For explanations of each individual piece below, check the end for Additional Notes if you want background information of some of the jargon I use.
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(Do you believe?)
There are many universes that make up the world we know. Some exist, some don’t. All of these universes are real, or at least as real as you want them to be. Realness is all subjective, you see. Children believe many things are real, and as long as they keep on believing, their perspective of realness remains intact.
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1
Goddammit, Kyuhyun swore, knocking his head against the window glass in frustration. God-fucking-dammit.
He pressed the eject button and the screen opened up above his head. He unbuckled his seatbelt and clambered out of his spaceship. He was going to kill Heechul for busting the engine. It was the second time this millennium. He fished out his pocket flashlight and inspected the damage. Yup, busted engine. Goddammit.
Kyuhyun rubbed his stalk eyes and stared at the scenery, and if it were any other time he would have found it beautiful. A green pasture under a blanket of stars, just like in his books. Heechul had always said that Earth was a beautiful planet. It really was too bad the inhabitants were abusing it with their overproduction of metabolic and mechanical waste
Behind him, he heard someone clear their throat and Kyuhyun suppressed another groan. Just his luck. He turned around slowly and found a tall lanky man dressed in loose pink clothing made of flannel. ‘Pajamas,’ if he remembered the term correctly. Kyuhyun discreetly turned on his translation device and let out a breath. “Greetings and salutations,” he monotoned, maneuvering his hand in the human movement called a ‘wave.’
The man in front of him stared. “Are you an alien?”
For one terrified moment Kyuhyun thought his hologram generator had malfunctioned, but the green light from his chest pocket proved otherwise. He still looked human, at least to those with human retinas. “No, I am not,” Kyuhyun lied smoothly, trying to smile but only succeeding on a half-formed grimace. “I am a Homo sapien, just like you.”
“You have a spaceship.”
“Homo sapiens also have spaceships, do they not?”
The man wrinkled his eyebrows. Kyuhyun had to admire how expressive human faces were. His species had no means of facial expression. “Not unless you are part of NASA.”
“Oh.” Kyuhyun deliberately scratched his head. The manual said that it was a human gesture of confusion. “What is NASA?”
The man let out a giggle. “You really are an alien!”
“That is incorrect.”
His statement was blatantly ignored and the man held out his hand. “I’m Zhou Mi. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve never seen a real live alien before.”
Kyuhyun thought quickly back to his studies and grabbed Zhou Mi’s hand, shaking it exactly two times-a gesture of greeting called a ‘handshake,’ sometimes friendly, sometimes a display of power depending on how firm one’s hand is during the shake. Kyuhyun made sure his hand was as firm as he could make it. “My name is Kyuhyun.”
“Well, Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi grinned, shaking his bruised hand. “Welcome to Earth!”
Despite the many attempts to brush him off, Zhou Mi was adamant to breathe over Kyuhyun’s neck the whole time he did repairs. Human curiosity was a wonderful tool that led to many discoveries, but Kyuhyun quickly found that it could also be a complete and utter nuisance.
“Is this your first time on Earth?” Zhou Mi asked, almost bouncing with excitement.
“No, I live here. I come from a country called the United States of America.”
“America has aliens, too? Wow!”
“I am not an alien, Zhou Mi.”
The statement was ignored. It was starting to become a theme. “Can you travel the universe at the speed of light?”
“Of course,” Kyuhyun replied, wrinkling his hologram nose. “Even primitive technology can travel at the speed of light.”
“Are there others out there like you?”
“There are approximately seven billion Homo sapiens on Earth.”
Zhou Mi giggled. “No, I meant, how many aliens are there in total?”
“There are no aliens. Only Homo sapiens. I am a Homo sapien.”
“Okay then. Say, hypothetically, that there were aliens. How many would there be?”
Kyuhyun took a moment to think. “There would be exactly fourteen now. There used to be fifteen some ago, but he’s gone now. This is all hypothetically speaking, of course.”
“That few?”
“We-aliens are an endangered species. Most of them died out when their sun went supernova three Earth years ago. Some decided to become human.”
Zhou Mi’s face fell. “What about your family?”
Kyuhyun shook his head. “They died three Earth years ago.”
“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.” Zhou Mi offered him a sympathetic smile. “My parents died a while ago, too. My dad was in a car crash. My mom had breast cancer. I still miss them a lot.”
“Grief,” Kyuhyun recited. “A multi-faceted response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something to which a bond was formed. Very common.”
Zhou Mi smiled. “My mom used to read me stories when I went to bed. I loved the ones with extraterrestrials. But in those books, the aliens were always green martians. They looked nothing like you.”
“I am not an alien.”
“Yes, you are.”
“There is no evidence that can support such a statement.”
“There is plenty of evidence, the most important being that you fell from the sky in a spaceship.”
“Insufficient data,” Kyuhyun insisted.
Zhou Mi just laughed.
Within hours Kyuhyun had fixed up the engine and was getting ready to leave. Perfect timing, too. Dawn was breaking and Kyuhyun definitely did not want more curious eyes being drawn to him. Once he packed his tools and readied his gear, he turned towards his human companion and held out his hand. “Farewell, Zhou Mi.”
“You’re leaving already?”
“I am late for work.” It was a common enough excuse for humans in the twenty-first century, but obviously Zhou Mi did not believe a word of it. “My boss will kill me,” he added for emphasis.
Zhou Mi sighed and impulsively wrapped his arms around Kyuhyun’s neck.
Kyuhyun’s brain short-circuited, and it took a few seconds before he remembered that humans ‘hugged’ as a sign of affection. “I find that I am very fond of you as well,” he confessed as way of reply. The arms around him tightened.
“If you ever change your mind,” he choked out, “you know where to find me.”
Kyuhyun heard deep sadness and loneliness in Zhou Mi’s voice, and a deep rumble of pity stirred inside him. How strange-humans could be lonely even with seven billion other humans around to keep them company. Kyuhyun allowed himself one moment of indulgence. “If I ever decide to return, I will contact you.”
And then he pulled the trigger of his memory eraser and felt Zhou Mi’s body go limp in his arms.
Zhou Mi would not remember his encounter with Kyuhyun, but every night from then on he would dream of a spaceship with a broken engine and an alien who made him laugh. And the weight on his heart lightened temporarily.
Several years later, a pilot named Kyuhyun crash-landed in front of Zhou Mi’s little house with no recollection of who he was or why he was flying such a strange-looking aircraft. Zhou Mi did not know who this man was, but he knew that they had met before, and the weight on his heart lightened forever.
2
Science Officer Kyuhyun was the epitome of stone-cold and unrelenting. He showed no anger or fear or happiness, and his actions were purely based on logic. He hardly blinked whenever an away mission went awry. He barked out orders as if he was reading from a scientific journal. His log entries were brief but detailed, clear and to the point, never a word out of place.
The crew members thought he was nothing but a pointy-eared robot. He never cried out when in pain, never lost control when tensions soared-he did not even cry when he received the message that his mother had passed away, not a single tear.
Counselor Zhou Mi knew better. He sensed the deepness of Kyuhyun’s feelings and could see past his cold Vulcan demeanor. Powerful were his emotions, stronger than any human or Klingon or Orion, reaching far deeper than anything that Zhou Mi had ever experienced before. Zhou Mi’s empathic abilities were always quite strong, even for a Betazoid, which often made him instrumental during their missions. Sometimes, though, it physically pained Zhou Mi to be near the First Officer.
Zhou Mi felt it when Kyuhyun saw one of his Science team crew members-a brilliant seventeen-year-old ensign named Kibum-die from contact with a poisonous flower found on one of the planets they visited. Worry, shock, confusion, guilt, grief, all at once, all clamoring to be heard in the hurricane of Kyuhyun’s silence. And it hurt. It hurt like the searing pain one feels when branded with hot iron. Zhou Mi’s eyes blurred with unshed tears from the bombardment of emotion, but when he looked over to the Vulcan, he was met with a cold demeanor and perfect posture.
Kyuhyun had just stood there, motionless, and stared down at the young boy he had taken under his wing like he was nothing more than a laboratory specimen. The other crew members glared at him with open disgust, but they did not-could not-know that behind that seamless emotionless exterior, something had died along with the boy.
Security Officer Heechul, for one, had had enough. “Kibum was the closest thing you had to a son, you heartless son of a bitch! The boy bloody worshipped the ground you walked on. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“I was Kibum’s superior and mentor. I do not see how his irrational habit of worshipping the ground is relevant under these circumstances.”
“Is that all you’re going to say? Are you actually just going to continue with your work like he meant nothing to you?”
Searing pain shot through Zhou Mi’s heart and he knew it was not from his own grief. It took every inch of his being not to cry out. “Grieving Kibum’s death would be illogical, for my concern for the dead will not bring him back to life. Indeed I will continue with my work, as is expected of me.”
Zhou Mi held Heechul back when Kyuhyun turned on his heel and headed towards his personal quarters, paying no heed to the callous remarks that the security officer bellowed into his ear. His heart felt like it was torn in two, and his limbs were sore from the effort of standing up. He fainted in Heechul’s arms.
He woke up three hours later in the Sickbay to the sound of monotonous beeps. Chief Medical Officer Han Geng stood above him and said it was merely the elevated stress levels among the crew. “A good night’s sleep should do the trick, but I want you to stay here under my watch just in case,” he said, smiling softly. “Commander Kyuhyun asked to see you. Should I tell him to wait until tomorrow?”
“No!” Zhou Mi replied sharply, blushing at his hastiness. “No, I would like to see him now, if possible.”
Han Geng smiled knowingly and exited the Sickbay, and a few moments later a pair of pointy ears came into view.
Imzadi, Zhou Mi greeted telepathically, knowing full well that the expression on his face was nothing less than fond.
Kyuhyun said nothing. He simply took a seat beside the hospital bed and held Zhou Mi’s hand in his, a simple action that communicated everything that needed to be said. Zhou Mi smiled and closed his eyes.
The crew had never understood their friendship, not to mention their deep love for one another. How could the emotion-suppressing Vulcans ever see eye to eye with the empathic Betazoids? How could a species that followed the words of Sarek ever understand the inner workings of a complicated emotion-seeking mind?
But when it all came down to it, the answer was simple. Zhou Mi ran his thumb across the pads of Kyuhyun’s fingers. They were warm.
3
Kyuhyun hated not knowing. He hated it almost as much as he hated himself. There was something wrong with him, something terribly wrong, like a tumor in his brain that was spreading faster and faster throughout his whole being.
His mother had him tested when he was three years old after having found him curled up on the floor reading James Joyce’s Ulysses. He’s a gifted child, a genius, they told her with round eyes and pleased smiles, with an IQ of upwards 260.
Kyuhyun watched them talk to each other with disgust. Those adults were nothing but tall children. They knew nothing of what they said, all hollow eyes and empty brains as they relayed the test results as if it called for celebration. He was not gifted, not in the slightest. He was cursed.
He read everything he could on neurology and developmental science, becoming increasingly frustrated when he could not find anything that could help him. He wanted to stop the loneliness, he wanted to be able to find somebody to talk to-he wanted people to like him. Other children bored him with their frivolous games and conversations. Adults became wary of him when he attempted to discuss the latest scientific theories (if they paid him any attention at all, that is-nobody pays attention to a precocious ten-year-old).
Kyuhyun was eighteen when he decided to use his intelligence for something productive and started volunteering at mental institutions where he met patients with Down syndrome, autism, and severe mental retardation.
His favorite patient was a thirty-two-year-old man named Zhou Mi whose mental age was that of an average eight-year-old. He always greeted the doctors with a big kind smile, the type of smile that convinced Kyuhyun that Zhou Mi was half-human half-sunshine. He always shared his toys with the other kids, and laughed often in his high tenor voice as if he did not have a care in the world. He probably doesn't, thought Kyuhyun bitterly.
Kyuhyun spent most of his breaks sitting with Zhou Mi in his hospital room, keeping him company by reading him children’s books and playing with puzzles. Once in a while, Kyuhyun would try teaching Zhou Mi how to read and write, but those sessions usually ended up in tears.
“The doctors say that I have a disability,” Zhou Mi said. His voice was childlike, as if his tongue was too big for his mouth. “That means I’m dumb, doesn’t it?”
“You’re not dumb,” Kyuhyun soothed, feeling a pang of sympathy for the man.
“Yes, I am. My parents used to visit me every week. Now they visit every year. They have a new son now. One that isn’t dumb.” Zhou Mi sighed. “It must be nice, being smart. I want to be smart. Like you.”
Kyuhyun grimaced. “Sometimes being smart is hard.”
“Being dumb is hard, too.” A tear ran down his face. “The other kids make fun of me. They call me stupid-face and retard.”
“You should tell the doctors.”
Zhou Mi shook his head vehemently, sniffling as his sobs grew louder and more desperate. “I don’t want to be a tattletale. I don’t want to get the other kids into trouble. I want them to like me.”
All the years of loneliness that he kept buried away from Kyuhyun’s subconscious mind bubbled up to the surface-his peer’s mindless babble, his parents’ concerned looks, his teachers’ annoyed glances, nobody understood him, nobody cared-and he, too, started to cry. “Me, too, Zhou Mi. Me, too.”
And Zhou Mi, dear sweet Zhou Mi who smiled at the doctors and shared his toys with the children and tried so hard to make the bullies like him, suddenly changed, and in a moment that made him look every minute of his thirty-two years he wrapped his arms around his best friend, holding him in an embrace that made Kyuhyun feel more loved and protected than he had ever felt before.
4
Kyuhyun went through his military career being told that he was the perfect soldier. He followed orders without hesitation, pulled triggers faster than any other in his squad, and watched indifferently as boys his age fell to the muddy ground never to move again.
He led the raid against an unarmed camp on enemy grounds, crashing down doors and shooting anything that did not bear his squad’s badge of honor. The blood of the Chinese men, women, and children stained the grass, and for the first time since he had pledged his loyalty to his beloved Korea, he faltered.
He thought back to the days before the war-his previous life, before all this madness around him occurred-and remembered kisses in the dark, sweet promises for eternity, slow walks on the beach with the love of his life, a silver ring that held the capacity of a future together. He was happy then. There were times when he felt that if he were to be any happier, light would start shooting out of his eyes and mouth. He loved Zhou Mi with all of his heart, loved his smile, his high-pitched laugh, his way of looking at him like he was the only person who mattered in the world.
Then he remembered shouting, angry tears, bruised wrists, and ultimately, a choice. Love was a powerful feeling, but patriotism was all-encompassing. They boarded different planes, got shipped off to different countries, fought on different sides. Training ensued, grant them no mercy, for you shall have none from them!
Kyuhyun shook himself and aimed his rifle. Less than a second later, a man fell backwards with a shout and was dead before he hit the ground. Kyuhyun failed to see the silver ring on that man’s fourth finger, soiled with blood and dirt, the remnants of a shattered dream beyond saving, and he pretended that it was all worth it.
5
Far to the East a Boy lived in fear
Of shadows and beasts both far and near.
“There are monsters in the West,” his father had said,
Striking fear in his heart as he readied for bed.
He grew up in due time and became a good Man
Who sought his own life-far from home he ran
Until he found a low pasture all dark and green
Where he heard a soft singing he dared not intervene.
As he listened in stillness, heart in his throat,
He wondered in earnest, what creature of note-
A ghost? An angel? A pixie? A fairy?
No human on Earth could sing so merrily!
An Elf, it would seem, with ethereal grace!
Slim were his limbs, fair was his face.
Thus the man fell deeply entranced,
His heart was stolen as he watched the Elf dance.
The Man called when his ache grew too much,
“My love! My love! Never have I seen such
Wondrous light in the darkness of the West
Of shadows and beasts and trolls at best!”
The Elf ceased dancing and scowled at those words,
“Listen to the trees, the flowers, the birds,
Does my home, my life, seem so evil to you?
In darkness I live yet no darkness I do.
For what you don’t see is not always black
And light itself creates shadows on your back.”
The Man hung his head, most utterly shamed
(For his lack of tact was very much famed).
“Forgive me, my prince, my love, my light.”
He held back stray tears with all his might.
The Elf took pity and sighed with a smile.
“Don’t trouble yourself with those that defile.
Indeed the West has its shadows and beasts
And trolls that partake in their bloody feasts.
But beyond the darkness comes joy and bliss
That mortal eyes seem to easily miss.”
The Man was adamant, passionate, sure,
“Blind I may be but my heart is yet pure.
I see your wisdom, your beauty, your will,
My love for you grows greater still.”
Doom fell upon the Elf as he saw only truth
In the Man’s eyes, drunk and reckless with youth
And he loved the Man of goodness divine.
“Show me your world and I’ll show you mine.”
6
There were many types of flowers that grew in the Garden. There was Kangin the sunflower, tall and proud and strong. Beside him grew Leeteuk the gardenia whose white petals never dirtied. There was Ryeowook, a shy little violet who only came out from the shadows when Yesung the honeybee came to visit. Heechul the red snapdragon had the fiery nature indicative of his species, but over the years his angry red hue softened into something warm and loving-and if the rumors that flitted amongst the gossipy butterflies were true, this change of heart probably had something to do with Han Geng the black lily.
Kyuhyun? Well, Kyuhyun was a cactus. He didn’t need much in terms of survival. While summer days sometimes took a toll on weaker plants, drying up their leaves and leaving them wilted and pathetic, Kyuhyun basked in the heat and gloried in his water retention skills. He wasn’t beautiful, of course, at least not in the traditional sense. He didn’t have the flowing petals that ruffled flirtatiously in the wind, and his thorns and spikes were certainly never going to get him on the cover page of Romantic Flowers Magazine, but he was strong and independent and he hoped that would never change.
It happened on a particularly rainy day, where the droplets splashed with such force that some flowers stumbled on their stems. Kangin took the brunt of the rainfall and comforted a very miserable-looking Leeteuk who shook and quivered in the relative dryness beneath the sunflower’s large leaves. Ryeowook had recoiled so far back behind the safety of his petals that not even Yesung’s consoling buzzing could coax him out. For a time, most of the noise came from Heechul, who raged about his sedimentary state and complained belligerently until he felt one of the black lily’s leaves slowly wrap around him into a soft embrace. After that, it was quiet save for the rustle of shivering foliage.
Kyuhyun stood by himself in the dripping wetness of April, and stubbornly set his spines nice and straight and sharp. He wasn’t afraid of the rain. He wasn’t afraid of anything. He was a cactus, after all. But something in the wind caught his eye-it was a seed, a black granule that flew round and round until plunk! it landed in the harsh soil right beside Kyuhyun.
Suddenly the rain stopped and the sun came out, and the flowers rejoiced. Kyuhyun, on the other hand, remained silent, staring at the little black seed with a mixture of dread and curiosity. It was a smiley little thing, curled up in its black seed blanket as it mumbled incoherently in its sleep. Kyuhyun knew, however, that no flower but him could survive without good soil, especially when only a seed.
An urge to help overcame Kyuhyun’s cold cactus heart, and after a moment to scan his surroundings to confirm that nobody was watching, he tilted himself over and drained the water he collected for himself and watered the seed, smiling when it started snuffling in delight and buried deeper into the ground.
It became a routine after that. Kyuhyun saved up all the water he could and during the extra hot summer days he would donate most of it to the helpless seed beside him and endure the scorching heat with a smile on his face.
Sometime in the middle of May, the seed finally cracked open and out popped a little green root, dramatically breaking through the soil like a superhero emerging from underneath a toppled building. Kyuhyun doubled his efforts and protected the little fledgling with every root from his body, hissing at the weeds and chasing away the snails. Some of his spines had wilted from malnourishment, but Kyuhyun didn’t care-he had better things to look after.
During the first weeks of June, Kyuhyun woke up to the sound of yawning, and he started at the sight of a beautiful yellow flower in bloom, stretching his leaves out and soaking up much needed sunrays. In a fit of panic, Kyuhyun shrunk in on himself and pretended to sleep, surreptitiously peeking from the corner of his eyes to see the curve of the yellow flower’s stem and smoothness of his petals.
Zhou Mi was a daffodil, and true to his species he was smiley, cheerful, and talkative. He got along famously with the rest of the garden, managing to win over Heechul’s inherent distrust in strangers and Ryeowook’s shyness, and he was constantly barraged with hoards of butterflies who loved nothing more than to join in on the latest gossip. More often than not honeybees would inform him of many a red rose’s affections for him, delivering gifts of scented pollen and personalized thorns. Though obviously flattered by all the attention, Zhou Mi never reciprocated any of those affections, which slightly eased the knot in Kyuhyun’s areoles.
All through June, Kyuhyun kept his head down every time Zhou Mi even glanced his way, acting as if he was too busy organizing the placement of his leaves to be doing anything else. His behavior ashamed him-cacti were many things, and ‘cowardly’ was not one of them. If his mother was still around, she would have smacked him upside the head until all of his spines fell out and told him to stop acting like a gutless dandelion. Alas, in spite of his attempts to salvage the remnants of his pride and start being a proper plant, just one look at Zhou Mi’s pronounced neck and sunshine smile made his roots go dry, and he would quickly avert his eyes and continue organizing his leaves.
And, after July had past and Kyuhyun had finally resigned himself to a daffodil-less existence of solitude, life threw fertilizer on him. On a warm evening in August, as the whole garden was getting ready for bed, Zhou Mi turned to him with the softest smile on his beautiful face and kissed him. Time stopped for Kyuhyun, and he hardly registered one of Zhou Mi’s long elegant leaves wrapped around the base of his stem before the daffodil closed his eyes and slept. Kyuhyun got no sleep that night, too conscious of how close Zhou Mi was and how he would never get tired of feeling smooth leaf on his prickly skin.
Within the next few weeks, a bright yellow flower grew from the top of one of Kyuhyun’s areoles. Despite his candid attempts at complete nonchalance, everybody in the garden knew exactly who it was for.
7
”Granny, granny, tell us a story!” the children cried, clamoring all at once to be heard.
The old woman on her rocking chair smiled softly. “What story would you like to hear, young ones?”
“Tell us the one about Poor Princess Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi the Abomination!” hollered one child, quickly being joined by the other children in a chorus of excited agreement.
“Oh, alright,” the woman sighed goodnaturedly. “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…”
From the outside, Princess Kyuhyun looked like a damsel in distress who was locked up in a tower against her will. From the outside, Zhou Mi the Fire-Breathing Dragon was a bloodthirsty monster bred from fire and smoke who broke through the gates of hell for the sole purpose of causing chaos and terror.
The townspeople told stories of the princess’s beauty and altruism. They said that her hair never tangled, flowing down between her shoulder blades like a black waterfall decorated with flowered ornaments. Delicate were her features-a perfectly shaped notes, soft kind eyes, a sweet smile, flawless pale skin. There were stories about how her dresses were made of the finest silks in the world and were enchanted by fairies so as never to fade in their glory. Her voice was described to be soft, melodious and sweet, the kind of voice that could inspire hope in the dreariest of places, lift up spirits in times of heartbreak. It was said that her heart was made of pure gold, and that she placed all creatures before herself-she never complained, never shouted, never acted anything less than the angel that she was.
Zhou Mi, oh the dreaded terrible Zhou Mi! Dark were his eyes, dark were his scales, but even darker was his heart. Evil incarnate, beast of terror! Never had the world seen such malice! His breaths of fire had slain millions, his eyes pierced fear in the most fearless, he prowled the cities at night to have his pick of helpless children. He kept the princess-poor, poor princess!-locked up in his tower in hopes of one day poisoning her mind and releasing another form of evil into the world.
In reality, Princess Kyuhyun loved her tower. It was the one place in the whole world that she knew was completely hers, where she could be completely safe and without the prying eyes of suitors and thrill-seekers. She loved how high it stood from the ground and how she had the most amazing view of the horizon-she lost count how many times she had stood in front of her window just to watch the sun rise and set.
Zhou Mi had been a birthday present from her late mother, a Queen with a huge case of wanderlust who abdicated her throne to become an adventuress, travelling the world in search of unsolved mysteries. She had found an abandoned egg in the mountains of the East and smuggled it back home for her daughter. Kyuhyun was thrilled at the gift and quickly became fascinated with the intricacies of the shell, sometimes spending hours tracing them at night.
Not a day later, the egg hatched, revealing a dangerous creature with red slits for eyes and needles for teeth. Kyuhyun had fallen in love right there and then.
Despite his appearances, Zhou Mi turned out to be sensitive and easily spooked. He was a dragon, the last one in the world, and he was everything to Kyuhyun.
The princess kept her hair short and cropped to avoid the hours and hours of brushing required every morning. She had long given up wearing dresses, preferring her efficient tunics that did not get caught on loose nails wherever she went. She cursed like a sailor and had a fiery temper that matched her wild hair and feral eyes. Zhou Mi followed her wherever she went.
Eventually, though, word got out about the princess’s “pet.” Zhou Mi grew, and it quickly became impossible to shield him from prying eyes. Within a year, he was the size of a standard Rottweiler. By his third birthday, he was larger than the largest of the horses in the stables. Rumors swarmed around town that Zhou Mi was a dreadful beast that would one day develop a taste for blood and wreak havoc against the world. Soon there was word of an uprising, and despite the princess’s pleas for mercy, villagers stormed the castle grounds with their pitchforks and torches, all demanding the death of the winged abomination.
Kyuhyun begged Zhou Mi to escape and safe himself, but dragons are inherently selfish: he had grown too fond of the princess, and no matter how hard she pleaded he refused to leave her.
They were left with no choice but to flee, so flee they did, with the princess on her dragon’s back. They headed towards an abandoned tower several leagues away, one surrounded by miles of jagged rocks no horse could plough through, fenced by rapid rivers that capsized all boats. Princess Kyuhyun became a damsel in distress, and many a knight had pledged to save her though none had ever survived the harsh journey through barren lands.
Rumors became fact, fact became tale, and the truth of what really occurred the day Kyuhyun escaped on Zhou Mi’s back was lost in the myriad. Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi had all but vanished from the world.
”Sometimes, though, if you stand on the outskirts of the village and squint towards the East, you can see a shadow in the sky-a shadow of a dragon and its rider, free and proud for all to see,” the old woman finished.
“Granny, you told the wrong story!”
“Yah, Granny, Poor Princess Kyuhyun was kidnapped by Zhou Mi the Abomination and was being held hostage! Then a Knight in Shining Armor came to her rescue and everybody lived happily ever after.” The children harrumphed and stalked away in a disappointed flock.
The old woman chuckled deep in her throat and looked over to the fireplace where the remnants of her daughter’s dragon eggshells were placed. “Happily ever after, indeed.”
8
The doctors didn’t tell him much. The words “severe concussion” and “anterograde amnesia” was thrown around once in a while, padded with the ritualistic condolences and halfhearted words of encouragement. Zhou Mi didn’t care one bit about all that medical jargon. He just wanted to know one thing: would he still remember me?
Zhou Mi sat in the hospital chair and stared at his fiancé, willing himself not to cry. Amidst the sterile environment surrounded by beeping machines and an IV drip, Kyuhyun looked small and childlike with an oxygen mask covering his face and needles sticking into what looked like every vein in his body. The heart monitor beeped steadily, comfortingly, and Zhou Mi brushed a stray strand of hair from Kyuhyun’s eyes, fingers tracing over the diamond ring on his finger.
Kyuhyun had once told him that there was nothing worse than watching a loved one suffer and being helpless to do anything about it. Zhou Mi finally understood, and he would never wish the feeling on anybody.
When the news broke that Sungmin had six months left to live, Zhou Mi cried along with the rest of them. He would never forget that day. There was a haunted look on Kyuhyun’s face as Sungmin tried his best to put on a brave front and continue being that cheerful man everybody knew him as. He wanted things to stay the same and for life to go on.
Life went on, as it always did, but things were never the same after that. The first clear sign was the constant coughing. The faint dizziness, or “orthostatic hypotension” as the doctors called it, followed soon after. The vomiting was next, with constant dry heaving and days when nothing would stay in his system. Chemotherapy did nothing to alleviate these symptoms and soon Sungmon’s hair was gone, along with his will to live.
Kyuhyun cried a lot during those six months, but never in front of Sungmin. He had promised to be brave for him. Zhou Mi, well, Zhou Mi was the one person he trusted. He sometimes showed up at Zhou Mi’s apartment with prominent bags under his red-rimmed eyes, and collapse into Zhou Mi’s arms in a heap of tears and curses. Zhou Mi was his crutch, always there to lend a shoulder to cry on whenever it became too painful for Kyuhyun to watch his then-boyfriend suffer.
When Sungmin finally died in his sleep, Zhou Mi held Kyuhyun’s hand at the funeral and stayed with him in front of his deceased boyfriend’s grave in the pouring rain until he was ready to leave.
It took time, but eventually Kyuhyun began to smile again. It was Kyuhyun who first kissed Zhou Mi, the day of what would have been Sungmin’s thirtieth birthday, three years after his death. Kyuhyun cried himself to sleep that night.
Soon enough, after tentative questions and initial hesitancy, they were officially dating. Zhou Mi loved him, always had. He was so happy-they were happy. They dated seriously for five years before Zhou Mi finally mustered up the courage to take the diamond ring out of the black box he kept in his pocket and ask The Question.
Kyuhyun said yes, and everything was perfect.
Everything was perfect until Kyuhyun crashed his car into a cement wall at 60 km/hr. The doctors said that there were extremely high levels of alcohol in his blood.
Three days after the accident, Kyuhyun woke up. His eyes started to flutter, and Zhou Mi sat up so quickly the chair fell backwards. He leaned over the man he loved, heart jumping to his throat, hardly daring to breathe. “Kyuhyun? Kyuhyun, it’s me!” Please let him remember me, please.
Groggy eyes opened slowly, and a heavy groan escaped vocal cords from the pain. “Sungmin?”
And Zhou Mi’s heart broke.
9
One, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He passed by a man with large brown eyes and floppy hair, smiled and nodded his head, and kept on walking. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He saw a very tall man with a large pointy nose and thought nothing of it.
Two, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He spotted a 50% SALE sign to his left and failed to see the man with large brown eyes and floppy hair. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He saw a very tall man with a large pointy nose walk toward his direction and he barely just managed to dodge crashing into him.
Three, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He spotted a 50% SALE sign to his left and failed to see the man with large brown eyes and floppy hair. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He checked his phone and bumped into a very tall man with a large pointy nose. “Sorry,” both men said before heading in their respective ways.
Four, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He spotted a 50% SALE sign to his left and failed to see the man with large brown eyes and floppy hair. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He checked his phone and bumped into a very tall man with a large pointy nose, and the phone slipped from his fingers and dropped to the cement floor. “Oh sorry!” both men exclaimed, bending down to pick up the cellphone at the same time. Kyuhyun got to the cellphone first, and after another apology they headed in their respective ways.
Five, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He spotted a 50% SALE sign to his left and failed to see the man with large brown eyes and floppy hair. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He checked his phone and bumped into a very tall man with a large pointy nose, and the phone slipped from his fingers and dropped to the cement floor. “Oh sorry!” both men exclaimed, bending down to pick up the cellphone at the same time. Zhou Mi got to the cellphone first, and as he handed it back to its owner, their eyes met, brown on brown, and the stars aligned.
The rest is history.
10
They met at ComicCon, and it was love at first sight.
Zhou Mi was clad in an olive green tunic customary of the Woodland Elves, topped off with a long blonde wig and custom made bow and arrow set. Kyuhyun was in a black trench coat and tight leather pants, machine gun in one hand, cellphone in another.
They saw each other from across the room, Zhou Mi with his Elf eyes and Kyuhyun through his dark shades, and time stopped. For Zhou Mi, the leaves seemed to stop in mid-flutter in the deep forests of Mirkwood. For Kyuhyun, the PAUSE button was pushed and time in the Matrix stopped. Their breaths caught simultaneously, and just like moths to a flame, they started walking towards each other.
Thoughts swam in their head, thoughts of love and fear and destiny and panic. He is the Sam to my Frodo, the Trinity to my Neo, the Starbuck to my Apollo, the Khal Drogo to my Khaleesi, the Watson to my Sherlock, the Gabrielle to my Xena, the Spock to my Kirk, the C3PO to my R2D2, the Sailor Uranus to my Sailor Neptune.
Somehow, they met in the center, a mere meter away from each other, each struggling to say something witty and in character.
“Welcome,” Kyuhyun finally stated, trying his best to keep his voice steady, “to the real world.”
Zhou Mi smiled. “Cormamin lindua ele lle.”
--
It is amazing how much children stop believing in as they grow older. Their wide bright eyes start to dull, their imaginative minds stiffen, and before long they no longer believe in wondrous things like dragons and aliens and magic and monsters and time travel. Shame, really.
So I ask you now: what do you believe in?
(I believe.)
Additional Notes
1. Alien crash-lands on Earth, leaves, and comes back for a human. Pretty straightforward. I included some little allusions to Super Junior.
2. Star Trek AU. This one requires a bit of background for all you non Star Trek fans. Kyuhyun is a Vulcan, which is an alien race that suppresses emotion in favor of following logic. They are famous for the “Live long and prosper” greeting. They are highly tactile beings, so their fingertips are very sensitive and can perform limited telepathy (hence the famous “Vulcan mind meld”). Betazoids, on the other hand, are empathic and telepathic beings that are able to sense emotion in others. The word imzadi means “beloved” in the Betazoid language.
3. I liked the idea that people of different IQs and “intelligence” levels could understand each other when nobody else could. I honestly have no idea if this would work in real life, but it makes a fun story to write.
4. Typical angst war story. Two lovers fight on opposing sides.
5. Inspired by Tolkien’s epic poem The Lay of Leithian. I read it a while ago and loved it because I’m a complete sap. It’s about an Elven maiden named Luthien who falls in love with the mortal man Beren and gives up her immortality to be with him. In the poem, more action happens where Luthien’s father does not approve and sends Beren to do an impossible task and whatnot. Read it for yourself! You won’t regret it!
6. A flower AU. Just a disclaimer, I am not an expert on flowers. Hell, the only thing I know about flowers is that they’re pretty and that they’re used as decorations for any happy celebration. Anyway, I have always seen Kyuhyun as this snarky little cactus and Zhou Mi totally fits the category of happy-go-lucky daffodil.
7. Fairytale AU with a twist. Also pretty straightforward. I wanted a different kind of princess who is both strong and vulnerable. I also wanted a dragon who is technically evil in nature but channels all his evil into a love for his princess so he’s not really evil at all.
8. The mandatory angst heartbreak one. Anterograde amnesia is the inability to make new memories.
9. Rewind AU. I got this idea when I was in a recording studio redoing some of the pieces in hopes of correcting the mistakes. It would be so much easier in life if you could have at least one moment and change it so that it works in you favor.
10. Geek AU. Featuring a whole lot of pop culture references. Most of them are pretty obvious, so I’ll just state the lesser known ones. Neo and Trinity are from The Matrix franchise, and Apollo and Starbuck are from Battlestar Galactica. This is how I want to find my true love. Cormamin lindua ele lle means “my heart sings to see thee” in Elvish.
Pairing(s): QMi
Genre(s): Romance
Length: 6930 words
Rating: PG-13
Summary: There are many universes that make up the world we know. Some exist, some don’t. It just depends on what you believe in.
Inspiration(s): This is basically a throw all of my plot bunnies into one storyline fic. Title is from the classical piano work by Modest Mussorgsky, which is a musical commentary on an art exhibition. For explanations of each individual piece below, check the end for Additional Notes if you want background information of some of the jargon I use.
```
(Do you believe?)
There are many universes that make up the world we know. Some exist, some don’t. All of these universes are real, or at least as real as you want them to be. Realness is all subjective, you see. Children believe many things are real, and as long as they keep on believing, their perspective of realness remains intact.
--
1
Goddammit, Kyuhyun swore, knocking his head against the window glass in frustration. God-fucking-dammit.
He pressed the eject button and the screen opened up above his head. He unbuckled his seatbelt and clambered out of his spaceship. He was going to kill Heechul for busting the engine. It was the second time this millennium. He fished out his pocket flashlight and inspected the damage. Yup, busted engine. Goddammit.
Kyuhyun rubbed his stalk eyes and stared at the scenery, and if it were any other time he would have found it beautiful. A green pasture under a blanket of stars, just like in his books. Heechul had always said that Earth was a beautiful planet. It really was too bad the inhabitants were abusing it with their overproduction of metabolic and mechanical waste
Behind him, he heard someone clear their throat and Kyuhyun suppressed another groan. Just his luck. He turned around slowly and found a tall lanky man dressed in loose pink clothing made of flannel. ‘Pajamas,’ if he remembered the term correctly. Kyuhyun discreetly turned on his translation device and let out a breath. “Greetings and salutations,” he monotoned, maneuvering his hand in the human movement called a ‘wave.’
The man in front of him stared. “Are you an alien?”
For one terrified moment Kyuhyun thought his hologram generator had malfunctioned, but the green light from his chest pocket proved otherwise. He still looked human, at least to those with human retinas. “No, I am not,” Kyuhyun lied smoothly, trying to smile but only succeeding on a half-formed grimace. “I am a Homo sapien, just like you.”
“You have a spaceship.”
“Homo sapiens also have spaceships, do they not?”
The man wrinkled his eyebrows. Kyuhyun had to admire how expressive human faces were. His species had no means of facial expression. “Not unless you are part of NASA.”
“Oh.” Kyuhyun deliberately scratched his head. The manual said that it was a human gesture of confusion. “What is NASA?”
The man let out a giggle. “You really are an alien!”
“That is incorrect.”
His statement was blatantly ignored and the man held out his hand. “I’m Zhou Mi. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve never seen a real live alien before.”
Kyuhyun thought quickly back to his studies and grabbed Zhou Mi’s hand, shaking it exactly two times-a gesture of greeting called a ‘handshake,’ sometimes friendly, sometimes a display of power depending on how firm one’s hand is during the shake. Kyuhyun made sure his hand was as firm as he could make it. “My name is Kyuhyun.”
“Well, Kyuhyun,” Zhou Mi grinned, shaking his bruised hand. “Welcome to Earth!”
Despite the many attempts to brush him off, Zhou Mi was adamant to breathe over Kyuhyun’s neck the whole time he did repairs. Human curiosity was a wonderful tool that led to many discoveries, but Kyuhyun quickly found that it could also be a complete and utter nuisance.
“Is this your first time on Earth?” Zhou Mi asked, almost bouncing with excitement.
“No, I live here. I come from a country called the United States of America.”
“America has aliens, too? Wow!”
“I am not an alien, Zhou Mi.”
The statement was ignored. It was starting to become a theme. “Can you travel the universe at the speed of light?”
“Of course,” Kyuhyun replied, wrinkling his hologram nose. “Even primitive technology can travel at the speed of light.”
“Are there others out there like you?”
“There are approximately seven billion Homo sapiens on Earth.”
Zhou Mi giggled. “No, I meant, how many aliens are there in total?”
“There are no aliens. Only Homo sapiens. I am a Homo sapien.”
“Okay then. Say, hypothetically, that there were aliens. How many would there be?”
Kyuhyun took a moment to think. “There would be exactly fourteen now. There used to be fifteen some ago, but he’s gone now. This is all hypothetically speaking, of course.”
“That few?”
“We-aliens are an endangered species. Most of them died out when their sun went supernova three Earth years ago. Some decided to become human.”
Zhou Mi’s face fell. “What about your family?”
Kyuhyun shook his head. “They died three Earth years ago.”
“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.” Zhou Mi offered him a sympathetic smile. “My parents died a while ago, too. My dad was in a car crash. My mom had breast cancer. I still miss them a lot.”
“Grief,” Kyuhyun recited. “A multi-faceted response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something to which a bond was formed. Very common.”
Zhou Mi smiled. “My mom used to read me stories when I went to bed. I loved the ones with extraterrestrials. But in those books, the aliens were always green martians. They looked nothing like you.”
“I am not an alien.”
“Yes, you are.”
“There is no evidence that can support such a statement.”
“There is plenty of evidence, the most important being that you fell from the sky in a spaceship.”
“Insufficient data,” Kyuhyun insisted.
Zhou Mi just laughed.
Within hours Kyuhyun had fixed up the engine and was getting ready to leave. Perfect timing, too. Dawn was breaking and Kyuhyun definitely did not want more curious eyes being drawn to him. Once he packed his tools and readied his gear, he turned towards his human companion and held out his hand. “Farewell, Zhou Mi.”
“You’re leaving already?”
“I am late for work.” It was a common enough excuse for humans in the twenty-first century, but obviously Zhou Mi did not believe a word of it. “My boss will kill me,” he added for emphasis.
Zhou Mi sighed and impulsively wrapped his arms around Kyuhyun’s neck.
Kyuhyun’s brain short-circuited, and it took a few seconds before he remembered that humans ‘hugged’ as a sign of affection. “I find that I am very fond of you as well,” he confessed as way of reply. The arms around him tightened.
“If you ever change your mind,” he choked out, “you know where to find me.”
Kyuhyun heard deep sadness and loneliness in Zhou Mi’s voice, and a deep rumble of pity stirred inside him. How strange-humans could be lonely even with seven billion other humans around to keep them company. Kyuhyun allowed himself one moment of indulgence. “If I ever decide to return, I will contact you.”
And then he pulled the trigger of his memory eraser and felt Zhou Mi’s body go limp in his arms.
Zhou Mi would not remember his encounter with Kyuhyun, but every night from then on he would dream of a spaceship with a broken engine and an alien who made him laugh. And the weight on his heart lightened temporarily.
Several years later, a pilot named Kyuhyun crash-landed in front of Zhou Mi’s little house with no recollection of who he was or why he was flying such a strange-looking aircraft. Zhou Mi did not know who this man was, but he knew that they had met before, and the weight on his heart lightened forever.
2
Science Officer Kyuhyun was the epitome of stone-cold and unrelenting. He showed no anger or fear or happiness, and his actions were purely based on logic. He hardly blinked whenever an away mission went awry. He barked out orders as if he was reading from a scientific journal. His log entries were brief but detailed, clear and to the point, never a word out of place.
The crew members thought he was nothing but a pointy-eared robot. He never cried out when in pain, never lost control when tensions soared-he did not even cry when he received the message that his mother had passed away, not a single tear.
Counselor Zhou Mi knew better. He sensed the deepness of Kyuhyun’s feelings and could see past his cold Vulcan demeanor. Powerful were his emotions, stronger than any human or Klingon or Orion, reaching far deeper than anything that Zhou Mi had ever experienced before. Zhou Mi’s empathic abilities were always quite strong, even for a Betazoid, which often made him instrumental during their missions. Sometimes, though, it physically pained Zhou Mi to be near the First Officer.
Zhou Mi felt it when Kyuhyun saw one of his Science team crew members-a brilliant seventeen-year-old ensign named Kibum-die from contact with a poisonous flower found on one of the planets they visited. Worry, shock, confusion, guilt, grief, all at once, all clamoring to be heard in the hurricane of Kyuhyun’s silence. And it hurt. It hurt like the searing pain one feels when branded with hot iron. Zhou Mi’s eyes blurred with unshed tears from the bombardment of emotion, but when he looked over to the Vulcan, he was met with a cold demeanor and perfect posture.
Kyuhyun had just stood there, motionless, and stared down at the young boy he had taken under his wing like he was nothing more than a laboratory specimen. The other crew members glared at him with open disgust, but they did not-could not-know that behind that seamless emotionless exterior, something had died along with the boy.
Security Officer Heechul, for one, had had enough. “Kibum was the closest thing you had to a son, you heartless son of a bitch! The boy bloody worshipped the ground you walked on. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“I was Kibum’s superior and mentor. I do not see how his irrational habit of worshipping the ground is relevant under these circumstances.”
“Is that all you’re going to say? Are you actually just going to continue with your work like he meant nothing to you?”
Searing pain shot through Zhou Mi’s heart and he knew it was not from his own grief. It took every inch of his being not to cry out. “Grieving Kibum’s death would be illogical, for my concern for the dead will not bring him back to life. Indeed I will continue with my work, as is expected of me.”
Zhou Mi held Heechul back when Kyuhyun turned on his heel and headed towards his personal quarters, paying no heed to the callous remarks that the security officer bellowed into his ear. His heart felt like it was torn in two, and his limbs were sore from the effort of standing up. He fainted in Heechul’s arms.
He woke up three hours later in the Sickbay to the sound of monotonous beeps. Chief Medical Officer Han Geng stood above him and said it was merely the elevated stress levels among the crew. “A good night’s sleep should do the trick, but I want you to stay here under my watch just in case,” he said, smiling softly. “Commander Kyuhyun asked to see you. Should I tell him to wait until tomorrow?”
“No!” Zhou Mi replied sharply, blushing at his hastiness. “No, I would like to see him now, if possible.”
Han Geng smiled knowingly and exited the Sickbay, and a few moments later a pair of pointy ears came into view.
Imzadi, Zhou Mi greeted telepathically, knowing full well that the expression on his face was nothing less than fond.
Kyuhyun said nothing. He simply took a seat beside the hospital bed and held Zhou Mi’s hand in his, a simple action that communicated everything that needed to be said. Zhou Mi smiled and closed his eyes.
The crew had never understood their friendship, not to mention their deep love for one another. How could the emotion-suppressing Vulcans ever see eye to eye with the empathic Betazoids? How could a species that followed the words of Sarek ever understand the inner workings of a complicated emotion-seeking mind?
But when it all came down to it, the answer was simple. Zhou Mi ran his thumb across the pads of Kyuhyun’s fingers. They were warm.
3
Kyuhyun hated not knowing. He hated it almost as much as he hated himself. There was something wrong with him, something terribly wrong, like a tumor in his brain that was spreading faster and faster throughout his whole being.
His mother had him tested when he was three years old after having found him curled up on the floor reading James Joyce’s Ulysses. He’s a gifted child, a genius, they told her with round eyes and pleased smiles, with an IQ of upwards 260.
Kyuhyun watched them talk to each other with disgust. Those adults were nothing but tall children. They knew nothing of what they said, all hollow eyes and empty brains as they relayed the test results as if it called for celebration. He was not gifted, not in the slightest. He was cursed.
He read everything he could on neurology and developmental science, becoming increasingly frustrated when he could not find anything that could help him. He wanted to stop the loneliness, he wanted to be able to find somebody to talk to-he wanted people to like him. Other children bored him with their frivolous games and conversations. Adults became wary of him when he attempted to discuss the latest scientific theories (if they paid him any attention at all, that is-nobody pays attention to a precocious ten-year-old).
Kyuhyun was eighteen when he decided to use his intelligence for something productive and started volunteering at mental institutions where he met patients with Down syndrome, autism, and severe mental retardation.
His favorite patient was a thirty-two-year-old man named Zhou Mi whose mental age was that of an average eight-year-old. He always greeted the doctors with a big kind smile, the type of smile that convinced Kyuhyun that Zhou Mi was half-human half-sunshine. He always shared his toys with the other kids, and laughed often in his high tenor voice as if he did not have a care in the world. He probably doesn't, thought Kyuhyun bitterly.
Kyuhyun spent most of his breaks sitting with Zhou Mi in his hospital room, keeping him company by reading him children’s books and playing with puzzles. Once in a while, Kyuhyun would try teaching Zhou Mi how to read and write, but those sessions usually ended up in tears.
“The doctors say that I have a disability,” Zhou Mi said. His voice was childlike, as if his tongue was too big for his mouth. “That means I’m dumb, doesn’t it?”
“You’re not dumb,” Kyuhyun soothed, feeling a pang of sympathy for the man.
“Yes, I am. My parents used to visit me every week. Now they visit every year. They have a new son now. One that isn’t dumb.” Zhou Mi sighed. “It must be nice, being smart. I want to be smart. Like you.”
Kyuhyun grimaced. “Sometimes being smart is hard.”
“Being dumb is hard, too.” A tear ran down his face. “The other kids make fun of me. They call me stupid-face and retard.”
“You should tell the doctors.”
Zhou Mi shook his head vehemently, sniffling as his sobs grew louder and more desperate. “I don’t want to be a tattletale. I don’t want to get the other kids into trouble. I want them to like me.”
All the years of loneliness that he kept buried away from Kyuhyun’s subconscious mind bubbled up to the surface-his peer’s mindless babble, his parents’ concerned looks, his teachers’ annoyed glances, nobody understood him, nobody cared-and he, too, started to cry. “Me, too, Zhou Mi. Me, too.”
And Zhou Mi, dear sweet Zhou Mi who smiled at the doctors and shared his toys with the children and tried so hard to make the bullies like him, suddenly changed, and in a moment that made him look every minute of his thirty-two years he wrapped his arms around his best friend, holding him in an embrace that made Kyuhyun feel more loved and protected than he had ever felt before.
4
Kyuhyun went through his military career being told that he was the perfect soldier. He followed orders without hesitation, pulled triggers faster than any other in his squad, and watched indifferently as boys his age fell to the muddy ground never to move again.
He led the raid against an unarmed camp on enemy grounds, crashing down doors and shooting anything that did not bear his squad’s badge of honor. The blood of the Chinese men, women, and children stained the grass, and for the first time since he had pledged his loyalty to his beloved Korea, he faltered.
He thought back to the days before the war-his previous life, before all this madness around him occurred-and remembered kisses in the dark, sweet promises for eternity, slow walks on the beach with the love of his life, a silver ring that held the capacity of a future together. He was happy then. There were times when he felt that if he were to be any happier, light would start shooting out of his eyes and mouth. He loved Zhou Mi with all of his heart, loved his smile, his high-pitched laugh, his way of looking at him like he was the only person who mattered in the world.
Then he remembered shouting, angry tears, bruised wrists, and ultimately, a choice. Love was a powerful feeling, but patriotism was all-encompassing. They boarded different planes, got shipped off to different countries, fought on different sides. Training ensued, grant them no mercy, for you shall have none from them!
Kyuhyun shook himself and aimed his rifle. Less than a second later, a man fell backwards with a shout and was dead before he hit the ground. Kyuhyun failed to see the silver ring on that man’s fourth finger, soiled with blood and dirt, the remnants of a shattered dream beyond saving, and he pretended that it was all worth it.
5
Far to the East a Boy lived in fear
Of shadows and beasts both far and near.
“There are monsters in the West,” his father had said,
Striking fear in his heart as he readied for bed.
He grew up in due time and became a good Man
Who sought his own life-far from home he ran
Until he found a low pasture all dark and green
Where he heard a soft singing he dared not intervene.
As he listened in stillness, heart in his throat,
He wondered in earnest, what creature of note-
A ghost? An angel? A pixie? A fairy?
No human on Earth could sing so merrily!
An Elf, it would seem, with ethereal grace!
Slim were his limbs, fair was his face.
Thus the man fell deeply entranced,
His heart was stolen as he watched the Elf dance.
The Man called when his ache grew too much,
“My love! My love! Never have I seen such
Wondrous light in the darkness of the West
Of shadows and beasts and trolls at best!”
The Elf ceased dancing and scowled at those words,
“Listen to the trees, the flowers, the birds,
Does my home, my life, seem so evil to you?
In darkness I live yet no darkness I do.
For what you don’t see is not always black
And light itself creates shadows on your back.”
The Man hung his head, most utterly shamed
(For his lack of tact was very much famed).
“Forgive me, my prince, my love, my light.”
He held back stray tears with all his might.
The Elf took pity and sighed with a smile.
“Don’t trouble yourself with those that defile.
Indeed the West has its shadows and beasts
And trolls that partake in their bloody feasts.
But beyond the darkness comes joy and bliss
That mortal eyes seem to easily miss.”
The Man was adamant, passionate, sure,
“Blind I may be but my heart is yet pure.
I see your wisdom, your beauty, your will,
My love for you grows greater still.”
Doom fell upon the Elf as he saw only truth
In the Man’s eyes, drunk and reckless with youth
And he loved the Man of goodness divine.
“Show me your world and I’ll show you mine.”
6
There were many types of flowers that grew in the Garden. There was Kangin the sunflower, tall and proud and strong. Beside him grew Leeteuk the gardenia whose white petals never dirtied. There was Ryeowook, a shy little violet who only came out from the shadows when Yesung the honeybee came to visit. Heechul the red snapdragon had the fiery nature indicative of his species, but over the years his angry red hue softened into something warm and loving-and if the rumors that flitted amongst the gossipy butterflies were true, this change of heart probably had something to do with Han Geng the black lily.
Kyuhyun? Well, Kyuhyun was a cactus. He didn’t need much in terms of survival. While summer days sometimes took a toll on weaker plants, drying up their leaves and leaving them wilted and pathetic, Kyuhyun basked in the heat and gloried in his water retention skills. He wasn’t beautiful, of course, at least not in the traditional sense. He didn’t have the flowing petals that ruffled flirtatiously in the wind, and his thorns and spikes were certainly never going to get him on the cover page of Romantic Flowers Magazine, but he was strong and independent and he hoped that would never change.
It happened on a particularly rainy day, where the droplets splashed with such force that some flowers stumbled on their stems. Kangin took the brunt of the rainfall and comforted a very miserable-looking Leeteuk who shook and quivered in the relative dryness beneath the sunflower’s large leaves. Ryeowook had recoiled so far back behind the safety of his petals that not even Yesung’s consoling buzzing could coax him out. For a time, most of the noise came from Heechul, who raged about his sedimentary state and complained belligerently until he felt one of the black lily’s leaves slowly wrap around him into a soft embrace. After that, it was quiet save for the rustle of shivering foliage.
Kyuhyun stood by himself in the dripping wetness of April, and stubbornly set his spines nice and straight and sharp. He wasn’t afraid of the rain. He wasn’t afraid of anything. He was a cactus, after all. But something in the wind caught his eye-it was a seed, a black granule that flew round and round until plunk! it landed in the harsh soil right beside Kyuhyun.
Suddenly the rain stopped and the sun came out, and the flowers rejoiced. Kyuhyun, on the other hand, remained silent, staring at the little black seed with a mixture of dread and curiosity. It was a smiley little thing, curled up in its black seed blanket as it mumbled incoherently in its sleep. Kyuhyun knew, however, that no flower but him could survive without good soil, especially when only a seed.
An urge to help overcame Kyuhyun’s cold cactus heart, and after a moment to scan his surroundings to confirm that nobody was watching, he tilted himself over and drained the water he collected for himself and watered the seed, smiling when it started snuffling in delight and buried deeper into the ground.
It became a routine after that. Kyuhyun saved up all the water he could and during the extra hot summer days he would donate most of it to the helpless seed beside him and endure the scorching heat with a smile on his face.
Sometime in the middle of May, the seed finally cracked open and out popped a little green root, dramatically breaking through the soil like a superhero emerging from underneath a toppled building. Kyuhyun doubled his efforts and protected the little fledgling with every root from his body, hissing at the weeds and chasing away the snails. Some of his spines had wilted from malnourishment, but Kyuhyun didn’t care-he had better things to look after.
During the first weeks of June, Kyuhyun woke up to the sound of yawning, and he started at the sight of a beautiful yellow flower in bloom, stretching his leaves out and soaking up much needed sunrays. In a fit of panic, Kyuhyun shrunk in on himself and pretended to sleep, surreptitiously peeking from the corner of his eyes to see the curve of the yellow flower’s stem and smoothness of his petals.
Zhou Mi was a daffodil, and true to his species he was smiley, cheerful, and talkative. He got along famously with the rest of the garden, managing to win over Heechul’s inherent distrust in strangers and Ryeowook’s shyness, and he was constantly barraged with hoards of butterflies who loved nothing more than to join in on the latest gossip. More often than not honeybees would inform him of many a red rose’s affections for him, delivering gifts of scented pollen and personalized thorns. Though obviously flattered by all the attention, Zhou Mi never reciprocated any of those affections, which slightly eased the knot in Kyuhyun’s areoles.
All through June, Kyuhyun kept his head down every time Zhou Mi even glanced his way, acting as if he was too busy organizing the placement of his leaves to be doing anything else. His behavior ashamed him-cacti were many things, and ‘cowardly’ was not one of them. If his mother was still around, she would have smacked him upside the head until all of his spines fell out and told him to stop acting like a gutless dandelion. Alas, in spite of his attempts to salvage the remnants of his pride and start being a proper plant, just one look at Zhou Mi’s pronounced neck and sunshine smile made his roots go dry, and he would quickly avert his eyes and continue organizing his leaves.
And, after July had past and Kyuhyun had finally resigned himself to a daffodil-less existence of solitude, life threw fertilizer on him. On a warm evening in August, as the whole garden was getting ready for bed, Zhou Mi turned to him with the softest smile on his beautiful face and kissed him. Time stopped for Kyuhyun, and he hardly registered one of Zhou Mi’s long elegant leaves wrapped around the base of his stem before the daffodil closed his eyes and slept. Kyuhyun got no sleep that night, too conscious of how close Zhou Mi was and how he would never get tired of feeling smooth leaf on his prickly skin.
Within the next few weeks, a bright yellow flower grew from the top of one of Kyuhyun’s areoles. Despite his candid attempts at complete nonchalance, everybody in the garden knew exactly who it was for.
7
”Granny, granny, tell us a story!” the children cried, clamoring all at once to be heard.
The old woman on her rocking chair smiled softly. “What story would you like to hear, young ones?”
“Tell us the one about Poor Princess Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi the Abomination!” hollered one child, quickly being joined by the other children in a chorus of excited agreement.
“Oh, alright,” the woman sighed goodnaturedly. “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…”
From the outside, Princess Kyuhyun looked like a damsel in distress who was locked up in a tower against her will. From the outside, Zhou Mi the Fire-Breathing Dragon was a bloodthirsty monster bred from fire and smoke who broke through the gates of hell for the sole purpose of causing chaos and terror.
The townspeople told stories of the princess’s beauty and altruism. They said that her hair never tangled, flowing down between her shoulder blades like a black waterfall decorated with flowered ornaments. Delicate were her features-a perfectly shaped notes, soft kind eyes, a sweet smile, flawless pale skin. There were stories about how her dresses were made of the finest silks in the world and were enchanted by fairies so as never to fade in their glory. Her voice was described to be soft, melodious and sweet, the kind of voice that could inspire hope in the dreariest of places, lift up spirits in times of heartbreak. It was said that her heart was made of pure gold, and that she placed all creatures before herself-she never complained, never shouted, never acted anything less than the angel that she was.
Zhou Mi, oh the dreaded terrible Zhou Mi! Dark were his eyes, dark were his scales, but even darker was his heart. Evil incarnate, beast of terror! Never had the world seen such malice! His breaths of fire had slain millions, his eyes pierced fear in the most fearless, he prowled the cities at night to have his pick of helpless children. He kept the princess-poor, poor princess!-locked up in his tower in hopes of one day poisoning her mind and releasing another form of evil into the world.
In reality, Princess Kyuhyun loved her tower. It was the one place in the whole world that she knew was completely hers, where she could be completely safe and without the prying eyes of suitors and thrill-seekers. She loved how high it stood from the ground and how she had the most amazing view of the horizon-she lost count how many times she had stood in front of her window just to watch the sun rise and set.
Zhou Mi had been a birthday present from her late mother, a Queen with a huge case of wanderlust who abdicated her throne to become an adventuress, travelling the world in search of unsolved mysteries. She had found an abandoned egg in the mountains of the East and smuggled it back home for her daughter. Kyuhyun was thrilled at the gift and quickly became fascinated with the intricacies of the shell, sometimes spending hours tracing them at night.
Not a day later, the egg hatched, revealing a dangerous creature with red slits for eyes and needles for teeth. Kyuhyun had fallen in love right there and then.
Despite his appearances, Zhou Mi turned out to be sensitive and easily spooked. He was a dragon, the last one in the world, and he was everything to Kyuhyun.
The princess kept her hair short and cropped to avoid the hours and hours of brushing required every morning. She had long given up wearing dresses, preferring her efficient tunics that did not get caught on loose nails wherever she went. She cursed like a sailor and had a fiery temper that matched her wild hair and feral eyes. Zhou Mi followed her wherever she went.
Eventually, though, word got out about the princess’s “pet.” Zhou Mi grew, and it quickly became impossible to shield him from prying eyes. Within a year, he was the size of a standard Rottweiler. By his third birthday, he was larger than the largest of the horses in the stables. Rumors swarmed around town that Zhou Mi was a dreadful beast that would one day develop a taste for blood and wreak havoc against the world. Soon there was word of an uprising, and despite the princess’s pleas for mercy, villagers stormed the castle grounds with their pitchforks and torches, all demanding the death of the winged abomination.
Kyuhyun begged Zhou Mi to escape and safe himself, but dragons are inherently selfish: he had grown too fond of the princess, and no matter how hard she pleaded he refused to leave her.
They were left with no choice but to flee, so flee they did, with the princess on her dragon’s back. They headed towards an abandoned tower several leagues away, one surrounded by miles of jagged rocks no horse could plough through, fenced by rapid rivers that capsized all boats. Princess Kyuhyun became a damsel in distress, and many a knight had pledged to save her though none had ever survived the harsh journey through barren lands.
Rumors became fact, fact became tale, and the truth of what really occurred the day Kyuhyun escaped on Zhou Mi’s back was lost in the myriad. Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi had all but vanished from the world.
”Sometimes, though, if you stand on the outskirts of the village and squint towards the East, you can see a shadow in the sky-a shadow of a dragon and its rider, free and proud for all to see,” the old woman finished.
“Granny, you told the wrong story!”
“Yah, Granny, Poor Princess Kyuhyun was kidnapped by Zhou Mi the Abomination and was being held hostage! Then a Knight in Shining Armor came to her rescue and everybody lived happily ever after.” The children harrumphed and stalked away in a disappointed flock.
The old woman chuckled deep in her throat and looked over to the fireplace where the remnants of her daughter’s dragon eggshells were placed. “Happily ever after, indeed.”
8
The doctors didn’t tell him much. The words “severe concussion” and “anterograde amnesia” was thrown around once in a while, padded with the ritualistic condolences and halfhearted words of encouragement. Zhou Mi didn’t care one bit about all that medical jargon. He just wanted to know one thing: would he still remember me?
Zhou Mi sat in the hospital chair and stared at his fiancé, willing himself not to cry. Amidst the sterile environment surrounded by beeping machines and an IV drip, Kyuhyun looked small and childlike with an oxygen mask covering his face and needles sticking into what looked like every vein in his body. The heart monitor beeped steadily, comfortingly, and Zhou Mi brushed a stray strand of hair from Kyuhyun’s eyes, fingers tracing over the diamond ring on his finger.
Kyuhyun had once told him that there was nothing worse than watching a loved one suffer and being helpless to do anything about it. Zhou Mi finally understood, and he would never wish the feeling on anybody.
When the news broke that Sungmin had six months left to live, Zhou Mi cried along with the rest of them. He would never forget that day. There was a haunted look on Kyuhyun’s face as Sungmin tried his best to put on a brave front and continue being that cheerful man everybody knew him as. He wanted things to stay the same and for life to go on.
Life went on, as it always did, but things were never the same after that. The first clear sign was the constant coughing. The faint dizziness, or “orthostatic hypotension” as the doctors called it, followed soon after. The vomiting was next, with constant dry heaving and days when nothing would stay in his system. Chemotherapy did nothing to alleviate these symptoms and soon Sungmon’s hair was gone, along with his will to live.
Kyuhyun cried a lot during those six months, but never in front of Sungmin. He had promised to be brave for him. Zhou Mi, well, Zhou Mi was the one person he trusted. He sometimes showed up at Zhou Mi’s apartment with prominent bags under his red-rimmed eyes, and collapse into Zhou Mi’s arms in a heap of tears and curses. Zhou Mi was his crutch, always there to lend a shoulder to cry on whenever it became too painful for Kyuhyun to watch his then-boyfriend suffer.
When Sungmin finally died in his sleep, Zhou Mi held Kyuhyun’s hand at the funeral and stayed with him in front of his deceased boyfriend’s grave in the pouring rain until he was ready to leave.
It took time, but eventually Kyuhyun began to smile again. It was Kyuhyun who first kissed Zhou Mi, the day of what would have been Sungmin’s thirtieth birthday, three years after his death. Kyuhyun cried himself to sleep that night.
Soon enough, after tentative questions and initial hesitancy, they were officially dating. Zhou Mi loved him, always had. He was so happy-they were happy. They dated seriously for five years before Zhou Mi finally mustered up the courage to take the diamond ring out of the black box he kept in his pocket and ask The Question.
Kyuhyun said yes, and everything was perfect.
Everything was perfect until Kyuhyun crashed his car into a cement wall at 60 km/hr. The doctors said that there were extremely high levels of alcohol in his blood.
Three days after the accident, Kyuhyun woke up. His eyes started to flutter, and Zhou Mi sat up so quickly the chair fell backwards. He leaned over the man he loved, heart jumping to his throat, hardly daring to breathe. “Kyuhyun? Kyuhyun, it’s me!” Please let him remember me, please.
Groggy eyes opened slowly, and a heavy groan escaped vocal cords from the pain. “Sungmin?”
And Zhou Mi’s heart broke.
9
One, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He passed by a man with large brown eyes and floppy hair, smiled and nodded his head, and kept on walking. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He saw a very tall man with a large pointy nose and thought nothing of it.
Two, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He spotted a 50% SALE sign to his left and failed to see the man with large brown eyes and floppy hair. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He saw a very tall man with a large pointy nose walk toward his direction and he barely just managed to dodge crashing into him.
Three, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He spotted a 50% SALE sign to his left and failed to see the man with large brown eyes and floppy hair. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He checked his phone and bumped into a very tall man with a large pointy nose. “Sorry,” both men said before heading in their respective ways.
Four, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He spotted a 50% SALE sign to his left and failed to see the man with large brown eyes and floppy hair. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He checked his phone and bumped into a very tall man with a large pointy nose, and the phone slipped from his fingers and dropped to the cement floor. “Oh sorry!” both men exclaimed, bending down to pick up the cellphone at the same time. Kyuhyun got to the cellphone first, and after another apology they headed in their respective ways.
Five, Zhou Mi walked down the street with no direction in mind. He spotted a 50% SALE sign to his left and failed to see the man with large brown eyes and floppy hair. Kyuhyun ambled down the street with headphones in his ears. He checked his phone and bumped into a very tall man with a large pointy nose, and the phone slipped from his fingers and dropped to the cement floor. “Oh sorry!” both men exclaimed, bending down to pick up the cellphone at the same time. Zhou Mi got to the cellphone first, and as he handed it back to its owner, their eyes met, brown on brown, and the stars aligned.
The rest is history.
10
They met at ComicCon, and it was love at first sight.
Zhou Mi was clad in an olive green tunic customary of the Woodland Elves, topped off with a long blonde wig and custom made bow and arrow set. Kyuhyun was in a black trench coat and tight leather pants, machine gun in one hand, cellphone in another.
They saw each other from across the room, Zhou Mi with his Elf eyes and Kyuhyun through his dark shades, and time stopped. For Zhou Mi, the leaves seemed to stop in mid-flutter in the deep forests of Mirkwood. For Kyuhyun, the PAUSE button was pushed and time in the Matrix stopped. Their breaths caught simultaneously, and just like moths to a flame, they started walking towards each other.
Thoughts swam in their head, thoughts of love and fear and destiny and panic. He is the Sam to my Frodo, the Trinity to my Neo, the Starbuck to my Apollo, the Khal Drogo to my Khaleesi, the Watson to my Sherlock, the Gabrielle to my Xena, the Spock to my Kirk, the C3PO to my R2D2, the Sailor Uranus to my Sailor Neptune.
Somehow, they met in the center, a mere meter away from each other, each struggling to say something witty and in character.
“Welcome,” Kyuhyun finally stated, trying his best to keep his voice steady, “to the real world.”
Zhou Mi smiled. “Cormamin lindua ele lle.”
--
It is amazing how much children stop believing in as they grow older. Their wide bright eyes start to dull, their imaginative minds stiffen, and before long they no longer believe in wondrous things like dragons and aliens and magic and monsters and time travel. Shame, really.
So I ask you now: what do you believe in?
(I believe.)
Additional Notes
1. Alien crash-lands on Earth, leaves, and comes back for a human. Pretty straightforward. I included some little allusions to Super Junior.
2. Star Trek AU. This one requires a bit of background for all you non Star Trek fans. Kyuhyun is a Vulcan, which is an alien race that suppresses emotion in favor of following logic. They are famous for the “Live long and prosper” greeting. They are highly tactile beings, so their fingertips are very sensitive and can perform limited telepathy (hence the famous “Vulcan mind meld”). Betazoids, on the other hand, are empathic and telepathic beings that are able to sense emotion in others. The word imzadi means “beloved” in the Betazoid language.
3. I liked the idea that people of different IQs and “intelligence” levels could understand each other when nobody else could. I honestly have no idea if this would work in real life, but it makes a fun story to write.
4. Typical angst war story. Two lovers fight on opposing sides.
5. Inspired by Tolkien’s epic poem The Lay of Leithian. I read it a while ago and loved it because I’m a complete sap. It’s about an Elven maiden named Luthien who falls in love with the mortal man Beren and gives up her immortality to be with him. In the poem, more action happens where Luthien’s father does not approve and sends Beren to do an impossible task and whatnot. Read it for yourself! You won’t regret it!
6. A flower AU. Just a disclaimer, I am not an expert on flowers. Hell, the only thing I know about flowers is that they’re pretty and that they’re used as decorations for any happy celebration. Anyway, I have always seen Kyuhyun as this snarky little cactus and Zhou Mi totally fits the category of happy-go-lucky daffodil.
7. Fairytale AU with a twist. Also pretty straightforward. I wanted a different kind of princess who is both strong and vulnerable. I also wanted a dragon who is technically evil in nature but channels all his evil into a love for his princess so he’s not really evil at all.
8. The mandatory angst heartbreak one. Anterograde amnesia is the inability to make new memories.
9. Rewind AU. I got this idea when I was in a recording studio redoing some of the pieces in hopes of correcting the mistakes. It would be so much easier in life if you could have at least one moment and change it so that it works in you favor.
10. Geek AU. Featuring a whole lot of pop culture references. Most of them are pretty obvious, so I’ll just state the lesser known ones. Neo and Trinity are from The Matrix franchise, and Apollo and Starbuck are from Battlestar Galactica. This is how I want to find my true love. Cormamin lindua ele lle means “my heart sings to see thee” in Elvish.