(no subject)
When Geng was sixteen, he saw her.
She was beautiful. She had long, black tresses, eyes that reflected the stars above, a soft, gentle smile that left men breathless and speechless and a voice; she had the most wondrous voice! And the way she moved, elegant, graceful, like a swan gliding in a pool of water.
When Geng saw her, he was smitten. He had never seen anyone quite like her before. She seemed so delicate; a rare beauty in the world, something that should be kept safely behind glass walls. He was afraid to touch her, afraid that his slightest touch would mar her soul. He'd watch her from afar, content with quick glances, satisfied with hearing her laughter from a distance.
What Geng loved most about her wasn't her smile, or her eyes or her long, black tresses. It was the way she danced. Her every movement; every time she lifted her arms, every time she turned or swayed, every time she tilted her head or bended her knees, the universe seemed to move along with her. Geng could never take his eyes off of her when she danced, afraid that if he looked away, he would miss her create stars.
When Geng was seventeen, he met her.
She was beautiful. And her spirit, her self, her whole persona was even more alluring, even more beautiful than he thought it would be. She laughed at him when he was being funny, she comforted him and dried his tears when he missed home, she stood by him even when everyone else seemed to leave his side. Most of all, she called forth within himself the self he's always wanted to be.
For the first time in his life, Geng fell in love.
Her name was YeonHee. And with her long, black tresses, with her soft, gentle smile, with her eyes that reflected the stars above, and with her ability to call forth the self Geng has been proud of, Geng found true happiness.
And if it were possible, Geng found even more happiness when he learned that she was happy to be with him, too.
Suddenly, years began to pass them by. And with every year, Geng felt his love grow even stronger, deeper than he'd ever imagined. One word from her, a smile or a touch, it was always enough to ensure his spirits were high for the rest of the day. Many approved of their relationship, and soon, they had been dubbed as the perfect couple in their dance troupe.
YeonHee was from Korea, and when her parents moved to China, she dropped formal studies and decided to focus only on dance. It was hard for her, at first, because she knew so little Chinese. Years brought on more knowledge and she persevered. Still, when she asked, Geng taught her more of his native language. Sometimes, when it was only the two of them and they had nothing to do, she'd teach him her own mother tongue. Geng would complain how hard Hangul was but he never stopped learning from her.
Holding her hand, Geng smiled as he whispered, "Saranghaeyo," in her own, native tongue. She laughed, squeezed his hand and whispered back, "Wo ai ni," in his own.
---
Geng remembered how beautiful she looked when she was smiling at him that night, a few hours before they were due on stage. She seemed a bit nervous, but she always was, as most of them were, when it came to performing. And because it was her first time performing in front of an important audience, it was only natural that she was feeling anxious. But she was born for the stage, as Geng would always tell her, because she was gifted with the silky and elegant movements able to match his own. They all said so, anyway.
In the middle of the stunning stage stood Geng, performing his most important dance for the night. He twirled around on his toes gracefully, allowing his mind and body to fuse with the melodious sound. He was so focused, so lost in his own world, trusting that months of practice would not make him lose his balance, would not allow him to miss a beat or a step. There was no way he would allow himself to make a mistake. Especially not tonight.
So in tuned was he with dancing that when his body hit the ground he gasped, disoriented. He closed his eyes, trying to block the would-be disappointed gasps from the audience. For a moment, everything was still.
Then chaos erupted.
Confused, he slowly opened his eyes, afraid of what he might see. Still in his world away from the rest, he looked around, numbly assessing what was happening. Then he noticed that all eyes were on him --or somewhere on him. Filled with dread, he slowly turned his own eyes, towards that dead weight on his legs.
Long, black tresses, splayed haphazardly over his chest; eyes that should reflect the stars above, glazed, frozen; soft, gentle smile that left men breathless, pained and apologetic; and a voice, that wondrous voice, softly, tiredly, lovingly whispering, "Geng."
And then she was gone.
Trapped, pierced by a fallen chandelier. That chandelier that should have fallen unto him.
Geng lifted a hand, slowly, shakily reaching for her.
Then people began to swarm around them, and they took her away from him. He snapped. He shook his head, and he yelled, and yelled and fought against the hands that tried to calm him down, arms that tried to comfort him, tried to envelop him in their understanding warmth. He kept his eyes on her, desperate, arms still reaching, trying to touch her one, last time. But the hands were strong, and they kept him in place, kept him away from her. Voice were shouting above his own, trying to tell him that everything's going to be okay, that they'll heal her, and she'll be fine, she'll be fine and that she'll come back to you.
But she wasn't fine.
And she never came back to him.
---
“Geng! Open the door!”
He couldn't take it anymore. He was crying so hard, and he had no idea what to do. His father was banging on his door and he could hear his mother crying, praying for him to calm down and think. But he needed something to distract him; an escape from all the guilt and self-loathing that had filled his entire being. At the back of his messed up mind, the same questions kept on repeating themselves: Why did she have to be so brave? Why did she risk her life for him and leave him here alone? In the past, he had never wished for much, but this time, he did; day and night he wished and hoped and prayed that somehow, she'd be able to come back in his life once more.
Geng glanced at the bottles cluttering his nightstand, thinking. They told him he was depressed, told him that he needed help and how to fight it; they gave him prescription after prescription of various kinds of sleeping pills and anti-depressants. He never took them. He felt he doesn't need to.
“Geng ah, please son! Don’t hurt yourself!” His mother’s voice sounded petrified, as if this was something that had been lingering in the back of her mind; like a crouching demon waiting, ready to strike at the right moment when she was least expecting it. This was what she had been scared of.
He blocked his parents' pleas for him to open the door, hands covering both his ears, head tucked in between his knees, crouched on his bed and he was crying and crying and crying. Chest heaving with so much emotion, he cried and prayed for the pain to go away.
Catching a glimpse of his bedside table, Geng shakily reached for the nearest antidepressant and opened the cap. This was the only way, he reasoned, his only ticket to freedom. He couldn’t stand to live like this. He had thought about it so many times before. He wanted to be with her, wanted to be together with her so he could fill his heart with love and happiness once more. He'd do anything to be where she was, even if he needed to leave everything else behind. Without thinking twice, he brought the bottle to his lips, tipped it and downed every pill. It was bitter and it had been hard to swallow, but he forced every pill down his throat.
In the background, he distinctly realized that his father was no longer pounding at his door, and that his mother was no longer crying or praying for him to come out. For a few seconds, he wondered what they were going to do. And for that short while, he regretted what he'd done to himself. He loved his parents, and he never wanted them to get hurt... But he had to do this.
Vision beginning to get blurry, he swayed, suddenly feeling so very tired. Glimpses of times spent with Yeonhee swam through his mind and he smiled, knowing that it was a matter of time before he would get to be with her once again. He closed his eyes, breathing slowing down by the second.
And then, complete darkness.
For Geng, the world stilled. Then suddenly, light.
When he came to, he was met with the magnificent melody of birds chirping. He sat up slowly, only to find that he was lying on a green, green grass by a lake side. The sky was so beautiful; dazzling with different shades of oranges and yellows, like a mountain peak becoming lighter and lighter from where he sat until it reached the horizon. The sight was too spectacular to be described with his limited words, so much that he felt only a poet could talk about such beauty.
Is this heaven, then?, his heart was asking.
A few yards away from where he sat, there was an old deck, jostling slightly, dancing in synchrony with the movement of the water. The wind was blowing gently, caressing his skin with loving tenderness. Out in the horizon, the sun was setting. Eyes crinkling up, he wondered if he could touch the glow of the dying ember with the tip of his fingers. He chuckled a little when he tried, knowing how stupid he must have looked. Inside, his heart felt warm.
His smile faded, however, when he saw a hauntingly familiar silhouette of a girl standing on the deck. He hadn't noticed it before so he thought that, maybe, it was just his imagination. But the girl still stood there, still facing the lake even after he rubbed his eyes. Slowly, he stepped up onto the deck, allowing years of dancing to let him gain balance on the platform as it moved with the rhythm of the lake. Harder his heart pounded as each step he took took him closer to her.
"Yeonhee?" he called. He sounded desperate, and longing and wanting and needing all at the same time. He touched her shoulder, guiding her to turn around and face him. Geng held his breath, and when their eyes met, he knew that his prayers had been answered.
Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, allowing tears of sadness and fear and aloneness and love to fall.
'Geng,' she smiled, 'I'm here. No need to cry.'
Geng still remembered it. Long, black tresses and eyes that reflected the stars above. And her voice. How he missed her voice!
"Yeonhee," he breathed, eyes still overflowing with tears, "Yeonhee... I-I I'm so, so, so sorry! You, you shouldn't have-- It was supposed to be me! Why, why did you...? It was supposed to be me, Yeonhee! I'm the one who should have suffered that pain! I was the one that chandelier--why, why did you push me out of the way?! Why did you--,"
'Do you really have have to ask that, Geng?' she asked, voice still as wondrous as ever, smile still able to leave Geng breathless and speechless and loved, 'I thought you already knew the answer.'
"I don't," Geng said, eyes still brimming with tears, voice still filled with pain and confusion and aloneness, "I don't. Why Yeonhee? Why did you?"
'Because I love you,' she said. 'Only you.'
Stunned, Geng couldn't take his eyes off of her. That loving heart, which had turned cold the moment she was taken away from him, burst forth and began to fill again with so much happiness. Smiling, Geng was about to kiss her when,
'No, Geng.'
Surprised, Geng stood back, a frown beginning to mar his face. About to ask why, she continued,
'You don't belong here, Geng.'
"Why?!" he yelled, suddenly angry, "The only place where I belong is at your side! Why can't I--,"
Sadly, she smiled at him. Then carefully, she placed her hand on his check, caressing it like she used to so many times before, 'Live,' she whispered, 'Please, live.'
"Without you, I can't--,"
'Of course you can!' she said, eyes beginning to brim with tears. Softly, she repeated, 'Of course you can. It's hard; I know it's hard. But you must. My time, it's already run out. Yours hasn't. You can't live your life like you have been, Geng. You've got so much ahead of you! Use it and live and love again.'
"Love? Love, Yeonhee? I'll only love--,"
'No,' she said, 'I'm gone, Geng. I don't belong where you are anymore. Perhaps, someday. Perhaps, we weren't meant to be. All I know is, I want you to be happy,' wrapping her arms around him, she whispered, 'Be happy, be strong, Geng. And learn to live and love again.'
Pulling away from the embrace, she, with her long, black tresses, with her eyes that reflected the stars above, and with her soft, gentle smile that left him breathless and speechless and loved, leaned in and gave him one, final kiss.
'I love you,' she whispered.
"Thank you," he said.
Then once again, she was gone.
"...g. Geng, son. Wake up. Wake up, son."
His mother was crying over him when he woke up. He realized, when he came fully into consciousness, that he, too, had tears in his eyes.
"Mama," he said, "I'm sorry."
---
A teacher offered him a job once he got better. He had accepted it without hesitation --even if he had to go to Korea to teach. His parents, who had been against it at first, afraid for their only son, allowed him to go once they saw the determination to live again and start anew in his eyes. Their own eyes brimming with tears, they enveloped him in their arms and whispered words of encouragement, of love and support. Geng accepted them, and he promised to take care of himself properly this time.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Geng?"
He nodded, "I'm sure, mama."
His mother frowned and asked, "But, Korea? Do you even know the language? What about lodging and food and--,"
"Ma," Geng said, laughing much more freely this time, "I'll be okay. Yeonhee taught me enough Korean to get by. And don't you remember what Lu lao shi said? I already have a place to stay once I get there. Food and other necessities aren't a problem, either. I'll be fine, Ma. I promised, didn't I?"
Still worried, as all mothers tend to do, she nodded anyway and wrapped her arms around her only son, "Be careful. And, if it's hard for you, you can always come back."
"I'll keep that in mind, Ma. Thank you."
Finally, Geng turned to his father and smiled. Walking towards him, Geng shook his hands and said, "I'll be leaving now."
"Stay safe," said his father, gently tightening his hold on his son's hand, "And be happy. Find your life again and walk on, son."
"Thank you. And I will." Smiling, Geng wrapped his arms around his father, knowing he'll be gone for a very long time. "I'll miss you. I'll miss both of you," he whispered, holding his tears back.
Tightening his arms around his son, Geng's father nodded and whispered back, "As would we, Geng. As would we."
After one, final farewell, Geng walked on. He never looked back, knowing that if he did, his emotions might give in and he might not be able to leave.
He slept while he was on the plane, a little scared of what might come, but happy, because he finally took the choice to move on.
---
When he arrived, an old friend of his teacher, the owner of the dance school he was going to teach at, was the one who greeted him. His name was Xiao Shen, a man in his 50s, with a smile that never quite left his face.
"Geng," Shen said when they stepped out of his car in front of an apartment compound, "Your new home." It was fairly large and looked pretty neat and it definitely looked better than the apartment he used to stay in with the troupe.
Clapping him at his back as they rode the elevator, "I'm glad you chose to take this job. I'm Chinese and I run a dance school, but I don't have anyone who teaches the dances of my own culture. I'm a bit ashamed I only started this now. Lu has always bugged about it and I never did agree," then, eyeing Geng carefully, he said, "Speaking of Lu, he says you're quite the dancer."
Laughing, Geng quickly shook his head and said, "Not really."
"Oh, don't be so modest, boy!" Shen winked, "Lu doesn't give out his compliments so easily. Now," he said, pushing Geng out of the elevator happily, "You have a roommate, a teacher in my school as well, so please try and not kill each other, okay? He's a warm and kind young man, well-liked among his peers, a tad bit too serious sometimes, but you'll get used to that. He's a good dancer, as you'd see soon. But he specializes in, what do you call that again? Hip hop? Popping? "
Stopping front of a room, Shen knocked. A minute passed by before the door opened. The man who opened the door was surprised at first, then recovering quickly, he bowed as he, in Hangul, said, "Shen-sshi, hello," then turning to Geng, he smiled and asked, "You're the new teacher?"
Just when Shen was about to translate for him, Geng bowed at the other, smiled and said, in Hangul as well, "I am. Pleased to meet you. I'm Geng."
Suddenly, Shen slung an arm around Geng's shoulders and shook him hard as he laughed loudly, "Ah! I almost forgot that Lu said you knew Hangul! Well! That makes everything much more easier, eh?"
Geng raised a brow, and asked, "Wait. I thought lao shi offered me the position because I knew Hangul?"
Shen glanced at him incredulously before laughing loudly again, "Boy, Lu offered the job to you not because you knew the language! Why is it so hard to believe that you are, indeed, a good dancer? Lu and I talk on the phone quite a lot and boy does he talk about you! He often compares you to himself, you know."
Geng's eyes widened when he heard. His teacher was a legend in the troupe and people would never fail to flock to his performances when he did dance. To be compared to him is just...
Shen looked at him, eyes bright and understanding, "And," he added, "He told me you needed a new start. That old codger, no matter how strict he had been to you, thinks of you as more than just his student, Geng." Quickly turning to the other still waiting by the door, Shen smiled and said, "Now, if you could introduce yourself?"
"Of course," he said, laughing. "Jung Yunho, pleasure to meet you."
"Can you prove it, then?"
Hankyung blinked and sighed. This was why he wasn't so welcome with spirits. He always ended up looking like the crazy one.
Biting his lip, Hankyung said, seemingly to thin air, "He wants you to prove it."
Shiwon was looking at him in a way like everyone he had tried to help before. Hankyung couldn't stop another sigh from slipping his lips. Turning to the ghost, Hankyung waited.
And he waited, and waited.
"Like I said, Hankyung-sshi," Shiwon began, patience clearly wearing thin, "I have a deadline to catch so if your game is over, perhaps you can--,"
'A sonnet,' Heechul suddenly said, eyes not leaving Shiwon. 'A sonnet. Tell him.'
So Hankyung did. And Shiwon froze completely.
Regarding him carefully this time, Shiwon asked, softly, "A sonnet?"
Hankyung turned towards Heechul as he listened.
"For me love's like the wind unseen, unknown," he said, trying to repeat Heechul's every word,
"I see the trees are bending where it's been
I know that it leaves wreckage where it's blown
I don't really know what 'I love you' means,
I think it means--,"
"Don't leave me here alone."
Shiwon meets Hankyung's eyes, seriously this time and Hankyung could still see disbelief in them. Something in them had changed, though. And for the first time since Hankyung revealed Heechul was there, Shiwon was beginning to believe him.
Smiling gently at him, Hankyung said, "Heechul... he wants you to--,"
"Can I talk to him? Hankyung-sshi," Shiwon began, desperation suddenly filling his eyes, "Can I talk to him? Can I... can I talk to him? Please?"
Hankyung recognized that reaction. And it didn't please him.
If Shiwon was anything like those he's helped in the past who's had the same look in their eyes, Hankyung knew he'd be probably be stuck with Heechul for as long as both the ghost and Shiwon were satisfied. And asually, that wasn't good for him.
Biting his lip, he said, looking pointedly at them both, "If I say yes, will you be able to move on?"
Shiwon didn't answer him. And so did Heechul.
Hankyung frowned. This... wasn't going to be as easy as he hoped it was going to be after all.
---
AN: sonnet was written by neil gaiman. beautiful, isn't it?XD