Black and White. A Hanchul Fic
Title: Black and White
Genre: Angst
Pairing:Hanchul
Rating: G
Prompt: Used the song Bei Pan by Gary Cao. The song Hankyung sang at the HK SS II
Summary: There are different colors in the world, some pink, a lot of reds, a dab of blues but all Hankyung sees is black and white because what other color is there? A story about hurt, betreyal and love.
A/N: For
leunah23 . I'm sorry it took so long! I wanted to do my absolute best. Forgive me!! *whimpers*. Hope you like it!
雨 不停落下來……(Rain falls continuously)
花 怎麼都不開……(Why doesn’t the flower bloom)
儘管我細心灌溉….(Despite my careful watering)
你說不愛就不愛….(You say you don’t love and won’t love)
我一個人欣賞悲哀…(I watch and appreciate the sorrow alone)
“Are you sure about this sir?”a girl in her twenties asked anxiously, grip tightening on the rubber handle of the wheel chair. She was wearing a pair of white scrubs you could often spot worn by the freshmen students of Incheon’s International Medical Institute. She shifted uncomfortably from where she stood as she eyed the cobweb littered room with apprehensive eyes.
“Yes. Yes” the man she was waiting on answered impatiently but the coarse whisper could barely be heard. The man was surprisingly young, probably twenty seven, but had a sick and frail form. His face was a pallid white, almost ghostly and his eyes had turned a light shade of sickening yellow, they had sunken into his skull. The deep black bruises under his eyes were impossible to miss for they almost touched the high cheekbones that stood out painfully against his papyrus like skin. His lips were dry as grain, chapped and cracked and pressed into a straight line. Under the green cap that he wore you could still see the wisps of what was once a head of lush raven black hair.
“Well “he croaked angrily. Apparently being locked up in a hospital room for the past three years of your life made him grumpy “Get a move on”
The girl grudgingly wheeled him into the threshold grudgingly, wincing slightly with every creak of the floorboards.
“There” the man ordered, raising a yellowing hand to point at the grand piano in the middle of the room, standing in all its ancient glory.
She pushed him towards the piano and helped him sit on the bench. Once he was seated comfortably, he shooed his nurse away with a glare-about the only thing that hadn’t withered over time.
With a scandalized look, the girl exited the room quickly, muttering something about sick old men and how the extra credit wasn’t worth it but he barely heard her for he was already sinking into the vault of locked up but never forgotten memories. He started to press on the grime covered keys and then suddenly, he could smell the crisp autumn air that is Seoul.
愛 只剩下無奈……(Love is only left with helplessness)
我 一直不願再去猜……(I keep on refusing to guess)
He was walking through the streets of the big city, his black luggage bag in tow. He was twenty-three years old back then, still fresh and handsome. People turned to look at him with every refined stride he took with those long powerful legs. He wore a smile on his full lips, his lively brown eyes barely enough to conceal the excitement he felt. He was floating on air now. So this is what it felt like to have your dream come true. Who would have thought that out of over three thousand participants that he would be the one that would be chosen to be sent here to Korea and be part of SM Entertainment’s new group Super Junior . He shook his head, letting a chuckle pass through his lips. It was just too good to be true.
But before that he had another problem to face: How the hell is he supposed to find a room for rent in the middle of over-priced Seoul? He scanned each street carefully, looking for a free space that was available and not too heavy on his non-existent wallet.
After what seemed like circling the city over a hundred times, he used his luggage bag as a bench and sat down. He buried his tired face in his hands, sighing for the umpteenth time. It was almost nightfall, the signaling pink and red hued colors beginning to dance across the darkening sky.
He was desperate. At this point, he’d be willing to live in a dung hole just to stay out of the freezing cold nights of Korea. Suddenly, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He looked at the mysterious stranger and he was sure it was an angel. He quickly took in the sight of those beautiful almond shaped chocolate eyes, the prettily carved nose, perfect high cheek bones and those lips, God those lips. What he wouldn’t give to kiss those soft-looking rose petals.
“Need a room?”The angel asked straightforwardly. He assumed that this angel wasn’t one for nonsense but it didn’t ruin the conjured day dream in his mind.
“Y-yes” he stuttered, too transfixed on those pouty pink lips. They seem to shine more under the shadows of the approaching night.
“We’ve got one available in our house “he said “Real cheap and besides, it doesn’t look like you have anywhere else to go for the night” he added, eyeing the huge black trolley.
“Thanks” he mumbled in somewhat uncertain Korean.
His angel smiled and he fought to keep his sanity intact.
“Heechul” he said, his perfect pink lips curved into a surprisingly pretty smirk. He held out his hand. So the angel’s name was Heechul. For some reason, it made him smile.
“Hangeng” he said, getting up on his feet and up righting his luggage bag. He shook Heechul’s hand politely and the current that ran up his arm almost shocked him stupid.
Talk about divine deliverance.
There are 88 keys on a piano, 52 white keys and 36 black keys but they were hardly enough to express the emotions Hangeng felt right now. As each key was pressed, he felt something similar to his heart. It was the leap of joy, the nudge of love and unfortunately, the stab of betrayal.
鋼琴上黑鍵之間…..(White emptiness will always fill the gap)
永遠都夾著空白……(Between the black keys of the piano)
The bar was hot, dark and smelled strongly of pungent alcohol fumes. Beautiful Korean showgirls stood upon small platforms, dancing on long metal polls. Waiters were shuffling here and there to get the drinks to their respective costumers before one could get angry and point a gun to their head. It was suffocating and disturbing but Hangeng didn’t care.
He was still young, handsome and carefree.
Over the loud blaring music, he shouted at the bartender for another shot. The bartender nodded promptly and proceeded to push him a glass of amber liquid. Smiling, he drunk it quickly, sighing as the bitter taste was swiftly replaced by a hazy warmth.
He smiles for a little bit longer before he suddenly notices that Heechul has been gone for a really long time. He stands up (wobbly at first then regains his balance) and searches the compact club for his beautiful fairy tale princess.
He emerged from the filthy bathroom a few minutes later with still no Heechul but then he notices the shiny red hair underneath the green laser lights. The crowds are close, as if they were being bonded together but he could still see them, in plain sight.
Hangeng doesn’t know Korean but he understood clearly (so painfully clear) that he had been cheated on.
He didn’t know what he was supposed to feel. It seemed like the disorienting alcohol flowed its way to his heart but it seemed that the toxin numbed his heart from feeling(anger) but not completely. He could feel the pain, the heart crushing pain, double. It spread its flow from his heart to every nerve in his body. It was the only thing he could hear. He swore he could almost taste it.
Red started to cloud his vision and he could feel the pain creeping it way to his brain. Some say that pain has no form but Hangeng
was prepared to believe otherwise. His cranium felt heavy, as if someone was filling it with to much information, then suddenly, everything started to spin. White spots started to blend with the red until they looked like a carisole. They spun faster and faster and faster then….
Black.
Yes, he was still young, handsome and carefree.
Not to mention stupid.
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緊緊相依的心如何Say Goodbye…..(How can two hearts rely on one another to say goodbye)
你比我清楚還要我說明白………(You know better than I do, still you want me to say it)
The air suddenly had a cold and eerie feel to it, freezing everything in place cause that’s what it seemed to Hangeng. The air had stopped shifting, the doctor behind the desk had been transformed into a statue, a melancholic look fixed on his face, the light filtering through the window seemed to disappear, as if the cold Hangeng was feeling was truly the cause of the weather. Every fiber in his body seemed to be frozen in time and he could hear the doctor’s words echo in his thoughts.
“It’s malignant..”
“Already stage 4…”
“I’m so sorry..”
“We could try treatment but I can’t guarantee that you’ll live…”
It was like a broken record player in his head but he couldn’t seem to process it. They were empty words. Unbelievable and yet there was certain reality that it opened. It brought forth a fresh emotion. Not love, he had already been broken, stitched up and broken again by that. Not joy, that emotion was virtually a stranger to Hangeng now. It was something that burned raw in his heart, weighing more than the heavy conflict that he was facing now.
It was regret.
Regret for not loving Heechul enough.(Maybe that was why he left me).Regret for letting him go that easily.(Hangeng felt the scar on his heart opening). Regret for leaving him.
But then….
Regret for something that never knew you seemed fruitless, doesn’t it?
愛太深會讓人瘋狂的勇敢……(Loving so deeply can make people crazily courageous)
我用背叛自己 完成你的期盼…..(I betray myself to reach your expectations)
He was awake now but he refused to open his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see what monstrosities are now attached to every part of his body. He could feel the air gushing through the plastic tube they shoved down his esophagus. he could hear the quiet beating of the monitor that indicated how fast his heart was going. He opened his eyes to see everything as a blur of whites, grays and blacks.
He sighed heavily, he expected that. The doctors had injected him with some liquid substance before he slipped into unconsciousness. His body felt tired, exhausted. He felt as if a thousand pounds of steel was on his body, causing him immobility.
He lolled his head to the side and saw a bouquet of blue (maybe periwinkle, but he wasn’t prepared to trust his eye sight anymore) on t
op of the table, standing out among the whites, grays and blacks. They were freshly picked, the dew drops were still evident on the soft looking petals ( the water droplets shimmered like prisms under the harsh fluorescent lights) and were not yet in full bloom ( still too young to experience the cruel realities of picking, harvesting and trade). Their fragrance wafted through the room, pungent enough to break through the haze that stuffed his senses. Beside it, he could see a small white card, written on it was pretty but rushed hangul that said:
” Be right back,
Wait for me.
-Heechul”
Hangeng smiled. Smiled so wide that the doctors would be shocked stupid, Smiled so wide that the nurses would not think twice about transferring him to the mental ward. Smiled so wide that even the sunrise would hide. Smiled so wide that there seemed to be a small, miniscule and impossible chance of hope.
So he waited
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And waited
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And waited
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And waited
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It wasn’t until the sunrise itself had risen that the smile started to fade, bringing the hope with it.
把手放開不問一句Say Goodbye…..(Letting go, not asking anything, say goodbye)
當作最後一次對你的溺愛……( Let it be the last indulgence I give you)
He could see lights. Bright, blinding and hot but he doubted he was dead because he could see red, disgustingly repulsive red and then he could see himself.
Well not exactly himself because the Hangenng he saw had sparkling brown eyes and a full head of hair (which he deeply regrets on loosing) , but he saw it. He also saw Heechul, so beautiful, so perfect. They were walking hand in hand, the brown and red October leaves crunching under their heavy winter boots.There empty spaces between Heechul’s hand and Hangeng felt that with his hand, they fit like a puzzle. Happier times. Destiny.
The memory changed into another one, he was older now. The bags under his eyes were more prominent. This was probably the time when the tumor started showing symptoms.
It was a dreary day, almost gloomy. The clouds were shaded with a pale gray dimness, looking heavy even to a normal passer-by. Underneath all the gloom and doom was Hangeng and Heechul. They were both still, their faces as blank as a board but their
(especially Hankyung’s) hearts thumped slowly, almost hesitantly, as if afraid to experience pain. Too late.
“I love someone else” he stated frankly with a bitter tongue.
He cried hard that night, as if the rain was just starting to pour but then he wondered.
What if the rain had been pouring even before this started?
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The last memory, his last memory was, like most of the others, were depressing and disturbing. The cold, hard metal frame of the operation table was painful against his back, but not enough to overwhelm the pain he felt in t of his body. The anesthesia had worn of and he saw himself, dented with black spots mixed with the sickening red color that was called blood. He wanted to look away and just die on the spot but for some reason he couldn’t tear his eyes away, because his body presented the physical evidence of what he really was.
Broken.
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It wasn’t a memory but it isn’t a dream. There’s something familiar about it, like how you know something, you have it at the tip of your tongue but you just can’t recall it. This was how it played.
It was a room of mirrors, nothing but mirrors, Just the spectrums of white light as far as the eye can see.
He also felt something smooth, almost like glass, under his fingers. He also knew they were moving and amazingly (for the first time in years) they weren’t tired.
It was extremely peaceful, almost unnervingly tranquil.
That’s how he knew it was a dream.
He could feel pain, stretching, wringing, pulling him apart. He could feel his frail limbs being teared off. He brought his wrinkled hands to his head, clutching the skull tightly. It felt as if his mind was being warped.
He shut his eyes and breathed in and out in ragged, uneven breaths. How he wished that…..
He could have said goodbye to his mom.
He could have cooked Beijing fried rice again.
He could have danced for one last time.
He could have said goodbye to his friends.
He could have seen how the dumpling shop he gave his mom looked now.
How he could have pressed one more key.
He wished,,,,
He could have said to Heechul, his immortal angel, one last time:
’I love you’
冷冷清清淡淡今後都不管…..(Coldly, drearily I will no longer watch over you)
只要你能愉快……(as long as you can be happy)
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Heechul could remember the cold air that slapped against his sweat drenched face as he ran through the damp streets of Seoul. He wanted to kill himself right now. How stupid. So very, very stupid.
'I hope I’m not too late’ he thinks.
He reached a door, ramming his lithe but strong frame against the aging wooden frame. He entered athe abandoned threshold, running straight to the grand piano that stood proudly in the middle of the room, just where it had always been.
‘I’m not too late’ he keeps on telling himself.
But he knew that his heart was slowly ripping in two. The feeble stitches he had used to keep his heart together, were snapping away, one by one. He stopped a foot away from the piano. He took a deep breath and approached it slowly. He glided his fingers over the black and white ivory keys. For the first time, he could feel tears well up in his emotionless eyes. Tears fell slowly down his soft curved face and onto the dusty keys.
But as Heechul glided his hands again on the colorless pieces, he could fell drops of tears. You couldn’t see them. They had probably dried up over time but they seemed to be burned into the wooden keys, serving as a memorial for the one who last played the piano.
’I’m sorry Hankyung....
I was so stupid…
But know I realize…
I love you too…’
心 有一句感慨…………(My heart only has one regret)
我 還能夠跟誰對白…….( Who can I still ask to)
在你關上門之前 …….( Before you closed the door)
替我再回頭看看……(Look back for me again)
那些片段還在不在……( To see if our snippets are still there)
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Love is never at the same place at once.
It is always moving from place to place, one person to the other.
So when love leaves you it seems unreasonable to cry,
if you had lived the greatest dream of your life.