Pulsatilla | Chapter 23/23 FINAL CHAPTER [Part One]
Pulsatilla
Author: love_cassiopeia
Summary: A complete mess was what Jung Yunho became after his beloved wife’s death. Trapped in a permanent state of isolation and loneliness, Yunho summons his knowledge on biology in hopes of recreating his wife in the form of an artificial human. However, the experiment goes terribly wrong and instead creates a male who has all his wife’s looks and qualities, one who he eventually decides to name ‘Jaejoong.’ Coping with the idyllic memories Jaejoong brings back of his wife, Yunho tries his best not to fall in love with his creation, knowing that the love he brings along is not the real thing-or is it?
Rated: PG-13 - NC-17
Warning(s): NC-17 material, language
Genre: Romance/Angst
Pairing(s): YunJae
Chapter 23: le verso - The Second Side (Part I)
Definition: The Pulsatilla is a deciduous perennial flower native to Europe and Asia that grows in the leftover nutrients of a dead plant. It is usually grown to replace another plant. It is capable of curing diseases and may be used in remedies.
[Please leave your comments on part 2 of the chapter. I've disabled the comments on part 1]
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l e v e r s o
T h e S e c o n d S i d e
Part One
Searching for Jaejoong was a fully emotional and physical experience-he had done it once a few months ago out in the rain, and had never hoped to again. Why did he always end up finding himself in this predicament? Why did he always have to search for Jaejoong among the endless vastness of this unreceptive world? And even if he were to find him, why would he have to continue losing him, time after time?
His suave walk eventually became a desperate run to the finish line, one that was fuelled by the desire to save Jaejoong in spite of the small chance he had. Why does it matter? He asked himself. Even if I lose him to fate-I want him to spend his last moments in the world knowing I was there for him.
He was reluctant to admit it, but he knew perfectly why Jaejoong was so goddamn hard to find. If he wasn’t, why would he continue saving to him, time after time? If Jaejoong was easy to deal with, he would’ve never gone to retrieve him from the man’s apartment, where he had lost his virginity. He would’ve never gone to such extents, worrying over him, doubting over his love for him-or even, changing his overall way of life to fit that of Jaejoong’s. He wanted Jaejoong badly-to have his heart, mind, and soul within his very palms; but since he couldn't have them-well that only made him want Jaejoong more.
He cursed the pedestrians in the street for being in his way under his breath, running at what seemed like the speed of light, not taking a single moment to stop for a breath of air. No, there was no time for such a foolish thing now, not when the clock would hit noon at any minute. Although he was running a race against time, he couldn’t help but realize he was frightened to look at the watch situated at his wrist, knowing that the meaningless numbers would somehow bring a load of emotional stress onto his shoulders, and ultimately, slow him down.
If there was ever a moment in his life when he could be offered the opportunity to buy time-now was the moment.
The heat of the morning sun hit the skin of his exposed neck, tanning it ever so slightly. Although autumn was at its end, paving a way to the upcoming winter, the sun seemed to shine just as vibrantly as it did in the summer, telling him that he was strong enough to handle an obstacle as trivial as heat.
Barging into the nearby grocery store and the local bookstore, he was ignorant of whether people would look upon him in disdain, or, if the shop owners would go as far as summoning the police, noting that a lunatic was on the loose. But Yunho considered that even if he was to turn into a lunatic from this event, he would gladly do so for Jaejoong’s sake.
As he ransacked through street after street, he felt that in a way, he had given up. Despite the fact that there were only a few minutes left, Yunho knew for certain that he had lost the game-if it ever was a game to begin with. The tears in his eyes were disinclined to escape his dry, desolate eyes because it was not sadness that had claimed him, but anger. He was angry not at himself, or any person in particular, but at the world for bringing their relationship to a flight, and then letting it crash and fall mercilessly onto the ground. He was disgusted towards the science that stamped an expiration date onto Jaejoong’s life, acting as a cage so his wings could never spread fully. He was angry at everyone and everything-he had all the right to be.
He wished he had yelled less at Jaejoong during his time alive and instead, appreciated his presence a tenfold more. It was common sense, was it not? To treasure the people who treasured you? No, but that wasn’t the case, not for a long time.
In the beginning, he had looked down upon Jaejoong as an abomination, as someone who did not belong in this world, but as a mistake in a reckless experiment he drafted. Then, as Jaejoong gradually became more human, gaining more knowledge on every aspect of life but losing the innocence he had in the beginning along the way, he looked down upon him (and even hated him) for his peevish behaviour, caustic words, and angry expressions. Knowing perfectly well that that was the continuous struggle in living with an artificial human, Yunho let the sadness lingering within him emerge, admitting that his attitude towards Jaejoong had somehow ruined him in more ways than one.
Feeling the excruciating pain pierce through the muscles in his leg, he began to remember the old times-the ones that were happy, but nevertheless hid a thick layer of grief behind them. He remembered the day he was drunk, the first day he had brought Jaejoong’s lips to his, mistaking him for Seulki.
“Is one kiss too much to ask for?”
“Yunho, I…”
“Jaejoong…It’s you…”
“Y-Yunho… I’m so sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done that! It’s all my fault… I won’t do it ever again.”
“...”
“But Yunho… I wanted it, I enjoyed it. I’m so sorry Yunho... I’m so sorry that I’m not Seulki.”
He remembered the day he had attempted to assist Jaejoong with his cooking-the day he had accidentally flipped the egg mixture until it stuck persistently to the ceiling. He remembered Jaejoong’s laugh of amusement, and the look of his loving eyes as he caught him from his fall.
“Uh… Jaejoong?”
“Did you flip the egg over, Yunho?”
“Actually... I didn’t do this intentionally, but… look at the ceiling.”
He remembered most of all, the first night he had made Jaejoong his own-taken him as his own. He remembered his voice, his scent, and the curve of his body to every last detail. That was the first time of course, the one time that people say could never be repeated, not emotionally. But for Yunho, every single time after the first felt exactly like the first-filled with excitement, eagerness, and the smallest hint of fear.
“Yunho...”
“I love you, Jaejoong.”
And he meant what he said that night.
If he was to live without Jaejoong, to forgo all the memories, or rather, to exterminate all the memories the two of them would make in the future, but have not gotten to quite yet, well, perhaps losing Jaejoong was nearly like losing the future entirely.
Having not a single ounce of energy left within him, his legs stopped abruptly, bringing his race against time to a stop. Every single muscle situated within his body screamed in pain, wondering whether or not they could last a second longer. His breaths were uneven, sounding harsh as he tried to force large amounts of oxygen back into his lungs. He would be an idiot to give all of this up. There would no doubt be something wrong with him if he were to stop running, to stop searching. But what would all this running accomplish? What would all this hard work lead to? An end that was clearly inevitable? Yes, that was it.
It was not the first time he had tried to change how the world worked. It wasn’t the first time he had tried to alter its silent, somewhat hostile mechanics-the mechanics that made sure everyone stayed in his or her own skin, within their own class (not just social class, but a certain mental class). He had tried to outsmart the mechanics first by trying to land promotion after promotion within the company, all the while telling himself that he could unmistakably love Seulki until the end of his life. That was attempt number one: failed, of course. Then he tried to revive Seulki with the entire “Jaejoong” experiment, one which led not only to another failure, but to an ocean filled to the rim with tens of thousands of other dilemmas. If what he was doing now-running through the town, trying to find Jaejoong and foolishly thinking that he could somehow save him from his death-well, what made him think he could break the world’s austere, logical rules without failing like he did the last two times he tried?
If he was to be honest, perhaps he was really being overly caustic and critical to himself and the way his mind worked. Although the previous two failures took up nearly ninety-nine percent of the entire situation, there was evidently that one, insignificant detail that told him no, he had not failed every single attempt. He knew from the beginning that learning to love Jaejoong was against the rules-he even told himself not to break this rule at all costs. But if he were look back on all of the events, at all of tears, at all of the smiles, he knew perfectly well that the love he created with Jaejoong was far from being a failure. He could not call Jaejoong a failure, even though in the beginning, that was all he really was. Was all the happiness Jaejoong brought along a failure? Was this boy now transformed into a poised, intellectual man he often admired and even envied (who could even play the piano), a failure?
“I can’t give up, I’ve gone way too fucking far to give up.” He told himself, hoping somehow his legs would summon the energy to listen to him. “That note you gave me, Jaejoong, was it really to persuade me to give up? You really pity me that much, don’t you!”
Lifting his gaze from the hard, concrete floor that he tired feet stood on, Yunho straightened his back for the first time in what seemed like hours, finally deciding to lift himself out of the pool of pity and at least run that extra mile to see if there was a single drop of hope left.
Instead of bursting into a run, however, he knew he didn’t need to take a tenth of a step more after seeing what was before him. Hating himself for not noticing it beforehand, Yunho knew for certain he had come face to face with that single drop of hope.
Kim Junsu’s Piano Gallery. The words, written completely in English in a barely readable script-well, the sight of it was like the sight of paradise.
He heard Close to You-only the beginning of the song, but already sounding just as amazing as the day he met Seulki in the music hall.
Be it failure or success, he had to take the chance.
Onto Part Two ->
Previous Chapters:
R é s u l t a t | A l i é n é | D é s o l é | B a i g n o i r e | M u s i q u e | N o c t u r n e 1 | N o c t u r n e 2 | J a l o u x | P e s a n t e u r 1 | P e s a n t e u r 2 | r ê v e | S o u p ç o n n e u x | M e n s o n g e | F e n ê t r e s 1 | F e n ê t r e s 2 | S c i e n t i f i q u e | G â t e a u a u f r o m a g e | V é r i t é | F r a g i l e 1 | F r a g i l e 2 | V a g u e s d ' o cé a n 1 | V a g u e s d ' o c é a n 2 | C r a i n t e | T a q u i n e z | A n n e a u | é c r i t u r e | R e s p i r e z | L e V e r s o 1 | L e V e r s o 2 |
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