PurgaTorio for Two [2/2]

[lababoreine]

Two

The morning after, Baekhyun finds himself retracing his steps back to the bench by the side of the forest. Much like yesterday, he sits there alone, quietly, until the bus rattles his way.

Exactly like yesterday, one lifeless looking person comes hobbling off of the bus, in total awe of the spectacle of the city.

Just like yesterday, Mr. Chanyeol snaps his fingers and the bus disappears.
But unlike yesterday, this time, Baekhyun follows him. He doesn’t let his eyes stray from the man, even for a second.

He goes padding after him, not even bothering to be sneaky about it. He’s sure that Mr. Chanyeol is well aware of his little shadow, but he never turns to acknowledge him.

Then, Mr. Chanyeol turns quickly and Baekhyun is stunned to realize that he’s walked straight into Kami’s shop. The sliding door is propped open.

The shop doesn’t open for a while, so why is the door already shoved open like that?

Baekhyun enters the shop to find Mr. Chanyeol there, arms folded and looking Baekhyun straight in the eye. He’s not wearing sunglasses this time. His lips are pressed together so tight that his mouth looks like a straight line of disapproval.

“Why are you following me?” He asks, the deep timbre of his voice nearly gives Baekhyun a shock.

“I’m not,” Baekhyun says coolly, “I work here.”

Mr. Chanyeol squints at him.

“The question is, why are you here before we even open, Mr. Chanyeol?”

Mr. Chanyeol raises an eyebrow when Baekhyun says his name, but doesn’t protest. Instead, he says, “Drop the ‘Mr.’ I’m not any older than you are.”

“Okay Chanyeol,” Baekhyun frowns, “But still, why are you here?”

“You were following me, so I figured I should take you to where you are supposed to be.”

“But I wasn’t following you.”

“You’re an awful liar,” Chanyeol says, breaking into a weak smile.

“You wouldn’t know,” Baekhyun continues to lie, “Because I’m telling the truth.”

“Whatever,” Chanyeol snorts. It’s in that moment that Baekhyun realizes that Chanyeol looks quite young. Not to say that there aren’t other young people in the town, but the way Chanyeol holds himself always makes him seem much older than he is. “I’m here to pick up a special order.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun blinks, “Should I get Kami?”

“Yes,” Chanyeol says, face falling back into his normal, serious expression.

Baekhyun turns and walks over to ring the bell. It’s not even a minute before Kami is there.

“Usual?” She asks Chanyeol.

He answers with a quick nod.

She heads to the back room and returns with a large sack, filled with items. Chanyeol dips his head in gratitude, and then he’s gone.

Baekhyun does not have the nerve to follow him out of the shop or to continue to bombard him with questions in front of Kami, so he stays silent and simply watches again, as the man’s figure retreats.

He’s hooked.

÷

Baekhyun finds value in persistence. Chanyeol is interesting, and Baekhyun wants to know more.

He begins the next day early, jogging down to the bench at the edge of the forest. Chanyeol comes in the same way as the previous days, but this time, vanishes somehow when Baekhyun glances away for just an instant.

The next, Baekhyun follows Chanyeol all the way to the other side of town, only to lose him when a cart filled with golden onions runs between them.

There’s no use trying to be discreet anymore. Baekhyun has blown his cover more than once and he knows that Chanyeol is probably just going to keep getting away.

This is moronic, Baekhyun thinks to himself on day sixteen. Chanyeol has vanished after a particularly sharp turn. Baekhyun is fairly sure that this pursuit is fruitless.

Kami doesn’t ask any questions, even after Baekhyun misses breakfast, again. She just watches Baekhyun knowingly as he rushes through the door to get behind the counter in time to be ready for the day.

Then, one day, Chanyeol spins around right at the entrance to the town. His face is stern, as always, but his eyes are boiling.

“Stop this,” he says sternly, “Whatever it is.”

Baekhyun lifts his chin and grinds his teeth together before biting back, “No.”

Chanyeol clicks his tongue and spins on his heel, the flaps of his jacket flying up just slightly with the motion. His shoes click sharply against the cobblestone as he walks away. This time, Baekhyun doesn’t chase. He just watches as Chanyeol walks away, again.

Baekhyun is tireless.

He goes back the next day, and he stops pretending to be considerate, he goes straight at Chanyeol with every question that’s been haunting him since he’s come here.

“Where does that bus come from, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun nags him. Chanyeol keeps his gaze straight in front of him, pointedly ignoring Baekhyun’s existence.

The next day is, “What’s in the woods, Chanyeol?”

Then, “Chanyeol, are you from here?”

Chanyeol always wears suits. Baekhyun never sees him in anything else.

“Chanyeol, why do you always vanish?”

Chanyeol has a habit of running his hands through his hair when the wind is strong.

“Chanyeol, how do you know Kami?”

Chanyeol gets his shoes shined at the shop a block down from the market. He’s friends with the man who runs the place. When he sits down for his shining, he waves Baekhyun over and pays for Baekhyun’s own shoe polishing. He doesn’t say a word.

“Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol buys his cufflinks from a boatman. He buys each set for two gold coins. When Baekhyun asks the ferryman, he says that the little white rooster heads are called Feng Huang. When Baekhyun looks at him in confusion Chanyeol calls out from behind him, “They’re phoenixes.” And with that, he’s gone.

“Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol doesn’t even run anymore, just lets Baekhyun trail after him. He lets Baekhyun talk and talk and talk until Baekhyun is out of breath. He never replies, never even looks at Baekhyun, but Baekhyun is sure that he’s listening.

And Baekhyun is fascinated by something that he can’t quite put his finger on. He knows next to nothing about Chanyeol, but he’s torn between wanting to know more, and feeling like he already knows what Chanyeol is going to do, what he’s going to say.

“Chanyeo--”

Finally, after countless days of incessant nagging, Chanyeol whips his head around and glares.

“What will it take for you to shut the fuck up?” he seethes.

Baekhyun blinks, he’s never actually thought about what he would say if Chanyeol ever responded. It takes him a long moment to decide, “Dinner. Let’s get dinner today.”

Chanyeol looks startled, “Dinner?”

“Uh, yeah,” Baekhyun shrugs, “Dinner.”

“That’s all you wanted?”

“You pay?” Baekhyun suggests.

Chanyeol squints at him before huffing, “Fine, but only if you get off my back.”

Baekhyun breaks into a grin, “I’m not going to make any guarantees.”

Chanyeol looks at him. Baekhyun can’t place the expression on his face. It looks like relief, but that couldn’t possibly be right.

Then, Baekhyun watches Chanyeol turn away, but this time, with a promise to return.

÷

Baekhyun is an idiot. He’s a moron and he makes too many mistakes. He’s standing there as the sun starts to sink lower and lower in the sky, in his place behind the counter. There have been no customers for an hour, and it’s almost time to close up.

For an hour, he’s been thinking about the fact that although he demanded dinner, he never actually specified a time and place to meet. A rookie mistake, surely, but it means tomorrow is going to be exactly the same as always, and maybe-- probably-- tomorrow, Chanyeol won’t talk.

Tragedies come in all shapes and sizes, and although this one is miniature, it packs an unexpected shot of regret. It feels like he’s missed something important, much bigger that it is.

Kami comes and tells Baekhyun to close up, expression stony as he sighs and flips the sign on the door.

Then, it catches him.

To be more accurate, he catches him-- by the wrist. Baekhyun gasps and looks up to see Chanyeol there, clown mask pulled up so it rests on the crown of his head, like a really bizarre hat. It’s crooked on his head, just like the smile on his face.

“Hey,” Chanyeol says, sheepish, “Dinner, right? We never--”

“We never picked a time and place,” Baekhyun finishes hastily.

Chanyeol looks away, “Yeah, so I figured I’d just come find you.”

“I-- Well--”

“Do you want to go?”

Baekhyun glances back into the shop, at Kami standing in the shadows, eyes and lips and wrinkles smiling at him. She nods and Baekhyun turns back to Chanyeol,

“Yeah, let’s go,” Baekhyun smiles.

Chanyeol drops Baekhyun’s wrist and takes two steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away, shoulders hunched.

Baekhyun trails after him, much like before. Chanyeol walks as if he’s alone, but every once in a while, he’ll glance back to make sure Baekhyun is behind him. It’s really kind of cute, and Baekhyun drags his pace a little to see if Chanyeol will notice.

Chanyeol looks back and finds Baekhyun half a block behind him. He huffs impatiently and taps his foot as Baekhyun giggles and takes his time walking up to where Chanyeol is.

“Where are we headed?” Baekhyun asks when he finally catches up.

“There’s a place by the dock,” Chanyeol shrugs.

“And?”

“Good fish,” Chanyeol says gruffly, starting to stalk forwards again.

“Walk slower, will you?” Baekhyun pouts.

“You walk quicker,” Chanyeol counters.

“Never,” Baekhyun shakes his head vehemently.

Chanyeol’s face crumples and it almost looks as if he’s going to scold Baekhyun, but he stops and sighs.

“C’mon,” he urges.

Baekhyun grins and doubles his pace so he can trot along side Chanyeol down the cobblestone road.

Chanyeol doesn’t talk much, and at a certain point, Baekhyun stops trying to force it. They walk side by side in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable.

The little restaurant by the dock specializes in fried fish. They have two options and Chanyeol orders one so Baekhyun can order the other. The fish comes in little baskets lined with parchment paper. They place the baskets between the two of them and split them, both of them picking at the two fillets and the chips on the side.

“Why do you keep following me?” Chanyeol asks, popping a chip into his mouth.

“You’re interesting,” Baekhyun returns readily.

Chanyeol frowns, “No I’m not.”

“You’re interesting to me,” Baekhyun grins.

“You always say that,” Chanyeol grumbles.

Baekhyun furrows his eyebrows, “I’ve never said that.”

“You didn’t?” Chanyeol raises an eyebrow and shrugs, “I could have sworn you did.”

“Maybe you’re remembering wrong.”

“Maybe.”

There’s a stretch of awkward silence until Chanyeol stands to get more vinegar for their chips.

When he returns, the both of them watch quietly as the sun sets, not exchanging a single word. They sit there, even after only the greasy fried batter bits are left. It starts to get chilly, a more than gentle breeze messing up Chanyeol’s neatly combed hair.

Eventually, Chanyeol stands first, “I have to go.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun blinks, “Yeah, okay.”

“Tomorrow, lunch, are you free?” Chanyeol asks.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You pay,” Chanyeol barters gruffly.

Baekhyun stares at him for a moment before grinning.

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Good,” Chanyeol smiles weakly, and then he turns out of the fish shop and before Baekhyun can even blink, he’s gone, vanished into a patch of silvery fog.

The fog dissipates quickly and Baekhyun finds his own way home.

÷

Baekhyun finds that he never needs to set a time or place with Chanyeol, because Chanyeol will always find Baekhyun first. The next day, Chanyeol is there, leaning against a pillar as Baekhyun walks back from the market.

After lunch, they walk together towards the water, whether it is the sea or a lake, Baekhyun does not know, and when he asks, Chanyeol just laughs.

“I don’t have an answer,” Chanyeol says, “Because I don’t know.”

They’re by the dock, smell of water and beer heavy in the air, when a massive ship, something utterly titanic, explodes out of the water.

It’s huge, completely dwarfing the town in its shadow, and it speeds towards land as water spills off of the sides.

Baekhyun freezes and stares, jaw slack, as the ship comes closer and closer.

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow and Baekhyun’s alarm, “You haven’t seen the ferry before?”

“No,” Baekhyun chokes out as the ship suddenly slows to a stop and a massive anchor comes toppling off of the side, landing in the water with a monstrous splash.

“It comes once a month,” Chanyeol hums, “It’s been here six times since you’ve been here.”

“I wasn’t aware I’ve been here that long.”

“That’s okay, people here don’t count time.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Gives me a sense of control.”

“Oh.”

The ferry is at a full stop now, and a ramp leads from the dock to the boat. A man with a hunched back and a clown mask on his face comes hobbling down, cane in one hand and hat in the other.

“The people who work transportation wear the mask,” Chanyeol answers preemptively.

“Oh.”

“It’s ugly and creepy, isn’t it?” Chanyeol chuckles.

“Lil’ bit,” Baekhyun laughs, “Yeah.”

“The ferry transports people out of the town, to some place on the other side of the water,” Chanyeol says.

“Oh,” Baekhyun blinks. It’s never occurred to him that anybody could leave.

“But you need the ferry fare,” Chanyeol shrugs, “And I don’t have it.”

“Oh, you want to leave?”

“No,” Chanyeol answers quickly, “I don’t know what I want. Either way, I don’t have the fare.”

“Well,” Baekhyun shrugs, “How do you get it? I’m sure it’s not terribly expensive.”
Chanyeol laughs and reaches over to rest his hand on the top of Baekhyun’s head. He rests it there for a minute before sighing and shoving both his hands back in his pockets.

“Let’s go back. You need to work in the afternoon, right?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“C’mon,” Chanyeol urges him, already beginning to walk.

Chanyeol seems a little more comfortable. He walks a good distance away from Baekhyun, but doesn’t immediately stiffen and blanch when Baekhyun closes that space. It’s not that he isn’t still guarded and awkward, but it’s just a little bit better than before.

The walk back is slow, and Chanyeol stops abruptly, right in the center of town, and says, “I live the other way, so we’ll part ways here.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun smiles.

“I’ll-- Uh-- See you, tomorrow?”

“Lunch?” Baekhyun grins at Chanyeol’s nervous expression.

“If you want.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Only because you insist,” Chanyeol sniffs.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, “See you tomorrow then.”

Chanyeol waves, and then he’s gone.

÷

Mystery shows itself in many shapes and forms. Baekhyun has met the stranger more than a thousand times. It relays itself to him through questions, questions that nobody ever has the answer to. Or perhaps, they have them, but refuse to give.

There’s a growing feeling in the space between Baekhyun’s heart and his gut, something entirely inexplicable and completely irregular. This sinking sense that all these mysteries cloud and stick to a one hundred and eighty-four centimeter question in a suit. Someone who wears phoenixes on his cuffs and drives a periwinkle bus. Someone who wants fare for a ferry, but doesn’t particularly want to go.

Then, the information stops there. The unconscious stream of observations that Baekhyun has for everyone, whether it be Kami and her seemingly unstoppable need to overcook any sort of meat to a bitter, chalky black, or the boy in the little, charred, black hat, Tao, who breaks almost everything he touches. Chanyeol doesn’t have a chapter stored in Baekhyun’s mind. Baekhyun has nothing to say. As far as Baekhyun knows, Chanyeol has no personality, no interests, no dislikes, nothing but that rickety old bus and a whole lot of fog.

They meet again and again and again and Baekhyun always wants to cry because he doesn’t write another word in Chanyeol’s story, doesn’t hear another note, and he doesn’t to fake this one. He wants to know why white phoenixes and he wants to know why Chanyeol only ever speaks to Kami and Baekhyun. He wants to know if Chanyeol even likes fried fish, because he always picks at it like he doesn’t want to touch it, and he wants to know why Chanyeol brought him here. He wants to know who Chanyeol is, and why every time Baekhyun looks at him, it hurts, his stomach, as if it’s being squeezed tight and pulled away.

To Baekhyun, Chanyeol is the feeling of falling.

“I don’t know anything about you,” Baekhyun hums conversationally. In between them is a plate of oysters. Eighteen open shells on a bed of shaven ice. There’s lime on the side.

Chanyeol picks up one, the one in the center, and downs it with no garnish.

“What do you mean, we meet almost every day. We have been, for a long time.”

“How long is a long time?” Baekhyun wonders, “I can’t seem to recall. Do we measure that? Time?”

“I do,” Chanyeol comments, dropping the empty shell into a clean porcelain bowl on the table, “You don’t. It’s been that way for a while.”

“What do we measure it in?”

“Seconds,” Chanyeol says, voice uninterested, he lifts an oyster shell to the light, turns it in his hand to see how the inside reflects, “Minutes, hours, days, months, years.”

“Right,” Baekhyun says grimly. Chanyeol holds the oyster shell between them and with one swift jerk, flips the shell the other way around. The side that shines faces Baekhyun. Chanyeol’s side is dark, gray, and dull.

“Someone very important taught me that once, that the best way to make things easier was to count them. That an army was a lot more daunting than a group of a thousand men.”

“That someone was stupid,” Baekhyun says.

Chanyeol looks at him, long and hard, and laughs, lips quirking up at the ends. Baekhyun thinks that the look doesn’t fit in Chanyeol’s face.

Technically, there are things he can add to his list of who Chanyeol is. Chanyeol dislikes citrus, likes onions. He buys weird things at Kami’s shop in order to mix fuel for the bus. He smiles funny, if Baekhyun ever gets to see it, and shines his shoes twice a week.

These are the things that are on everybody else’s list, but if Baekhyun were to take a pen to a page, he wouldn’t write any of it. There’s something more important that he needs to get at. There’s something that isn’t trivial, and Baekhyun already knows the answer, he just needs to find a way to remember how to say it.

÷

Baekhyun doesn’t count with seconds. He counts with memories, and every moment with Chanyeol is a timestamp for one very long moment, a moment that has strung along for maybe six months, maybe a year, but it ends with a parting at the center of town and a greeting by the dock, every single day. If Baekhyun asked, Chanyeol might know the answer as to how long they’ve known each other, but he never remembers the question until it’s too late.

They’re eating shrimp, freshly caught in the sea.

It must be caught in the sea, Chanyeol reasons with him, because all the food here is saltwater. Everyone knows that saltwater fish and freshwater fish are different. There aren’t very many saltwater lakes, Chanyeol says. Baekhyun is confused, but takes it at face value. He apologizes and says he can’t remember, and Chanyeol sighs.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it,” Chanyeol says.

“What?”

“This village. It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah. It is.”

Chanyeol

“It’s sad, really.”

“Hm?”

“Beauty is pretty disgusting if you think about it.”

Baekhyun furrows his brows, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Chanyeol looks at him carefully, but ends up laughing.

“It’s okay,” he says, looking back out onto the sea. The sun sets slowly, rays of gold bouncing across the water.

Baekhyun rests his chin in the palm of his hand and squints his eyes out into the sunset. Chanyeol’s hand is resting on the table between them, only a couple of centimeters away, but Baekhyun isn’t brave enough to close that gap.

He wants to touch, wants to slide his fingers over and intertwine Chanyeol’s hand in his. But Baekhyun isn’t courageous, he isn’t by nature, so instead he asks, “You know what it’s like, back in that forest.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, frowning, “You can’t see much. You remember. I drove you from there.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Baekhyun removes his own hand from the table and clasps his fingers together.

“Very foggy,” Chanyeol nods.

“But, there’s more out there, right?” Baekhyun wonders.

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol shrugs, “Maybe.”

Baekhyun smiles, redirecting his gaze on Chanyeol. Chanyeol isn’t looking back at him, eyes still focused on the sun taking a dip below the sea.

“Hypothetically though,” Baekhyun pleads. Chanyeol turns his head to look at him and everything seems to freeze.

Baekhyun expects a guarded, steely answer, but instead, Chanyeol says, “Hypothetically, things are very different from here.”

“How so?” Baekhyun pries, trying to squeeze every last drop out of this rare moment.

“Hypothetically,” Chanyeol frowns, “People out there are very sad.”

“Everyone?” Baekhyun’s face falls.

“Not everyone, but-- Someone I know, a friend, hypothetically speaking of course, was a very sad man.”

“Why was he sad,” Baekhyun asks.

Chanyeol opens his mouth to respond, but has to look away before replying, “He doesn’t know. He never knew. Just one day he woke up and thought to himself that life was rather pointless. It wasn’t sad at the start, but the more he thought and mulled about it, the more he thought that he served no purpose in that world out there.”

“No purpose? But he had a job, he had people who cared for him,” Baekhyun’s thoughts flash to Kami and Chanyeol, to the job he has back at the shop, measuring out mysterious ingredients into plain little sacks.

“He did,” Chanyeol nods, “In that world, he had those things, and he kept living, right? This friend of mine. He had someone that he loved very much, and he tried to stay strong for that person, because this sadness, this illness of his, according to everyone he ever spoke to, it ends.”

“Did it end for him then?” Baekhyun asks.

“The sadness? No,” Chanyeol’s expression is blank, it makes Baekhyun jittery, “Sad is such a vague word, doesn’t fit what I’m trying to say. There was a lot of pressure. He felt like he wasn’t good enough for the person he loved, and he loved that person so very much. He lived for that person, and the feeling of unworthiness grew with that, so one day, it was too much, and he gave up.”

“Oh,” Baekhyun’s shoulders fall, “That’s so sad. What do you mean gave up?”

Chanyeol purses his lips, “He just decided not to play anymore. But the worst part is that quitting doesn’t solve problems, it postpones them.”

“Is he still sad now?”

Chanyeol gives Baekhyun a weird look. “No,” Chanyeol says slowly, “No he’s not.”

“That’s good then,” Baekhyun says brightly.

“It is,” Chanyeol agrees, “But I wish-- I’m sure that my friend wishes that he could have gotten there sooner. He could have. It would have changed. He knows now, what would have happened, and he could have fixed it. But now he cannot.”

“The world beyond the forest doesn’t seem very pleasant,” Baekhyun observes dumbly.

Chanyeol laughs loudly, “It’s because you haven’t been there. There’s a lot of beautiful things there, and lots of beautiful people. It’s just that not everyone, like my friend, could appreciate them when he had them.”

“Seems bittersweet,” Baekhyun quips.

Chanyeol snorts and reaches over to ruffle Baekhyun’s hair, “A lot of good things are.”

The sun dives into the water, fiery orange immediately snuffed out into a paling purple.

“Let’s go back,” Chanyeol stands swiftly. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Baekhyun can’t help but notice the way the fabric of his soft black shirt stretches across his shoulders and back.

“I don’t have to go back so soon,” Baekhyun wheedles.

Chanyeol chuckles, “You don’t, but I do. I have to be up early tomorrow. I have a bus to drive, remember?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun grins, “I remember.”

So they stand together and walk back together, Chanyeol’s hands in his pockets, but still managing to knock his hip against Baekhyun’s as they meander back.

It’s not that Chanyeol is smiling, but his expression doesn’t look labored for once. Baekhyun likes it. He wants to freeze it and preserve it forever.

They walk slowly, stretching the way home out so they can knock their hips against each others’ uncomfortably for just a couple more beats. Baekhyun is sure he’s not the only one pulling the tempo back. A metronome swings two ways to keep a beat.

They normally part ways at the center of town, because although Baekhyun is not entirely sure of where Chanyeol lives, it’s not here, and they can’t take the same route home.

“I’ll see you?” Baekhyun offers a smile.

Chanyeol opens his mouth to respond, but the words seem to get caught in his throat.

“Bye then,” Baekhyun waves his hand and turns to head home.

“Wait! Baek--”

Chanyeol’s hand flies out from his pocket to grab for Baekhyun’s wrist.

The other hand follows, and suddenly Chanyeol’s fingers are clasped on Baekhyun’s shoulders, and Baekhyun is being pulled up, just slightly, to the tips of his toes. Their noses just barely avoid each other, and Baekhyun’s eyes are still wide open, and Chanyeol’s left hand glides up just a little too awkwardly to cup Baekhyun’s face, but Chanyeol kisses him.

Chanyeol kisses him, and Baekhyun kisses Chanyeol back.

Baekhyun thinks that this kiss is lovely, it’s really stumbly and clumsy but it’s sweet and when he wraps his arms around Chanyeol’s neck, he thinks that he could get used to this. He wouldn’t mind this happening again… and again, and again, and--

And Chanyeol jerks away, eyes wide and accusing, even though it was him who had pulled Baekhyun, even though it was him who had started it, even though Baekhyun had already been on his way home.

“No,” he whispers hoarsely.

“But, Chanyeol, wait--”

“No,” his voice cracks, “Fuck, I promised myself I wouldn’t do this. No. No. No!”

“Chanyeol, I’m sorry, I--”

“No!” Chanyeol shouts. Baekhyun sees the people passing by turn to look at them.

Chanyeol spins on his heel and runs.

For the very first time, Baekhyun doesn’t chase after him. He won’t catch him, Chanyeol’s legs are too long, and Chanyeol can disappear. Chanyeol won’t be in front of Baekhyun unless he wills it to be so. Baekhyun realizes at that moment, that he has very little say in any of this.

It’s too bad Baekhyun liked it so much, because Chanyeol probably won’t ask Baekhyun out for lunch again.

÷

Baekhyun is right, Chanyeol doesn’t look for him again. Baekhyun is stuck back into a life that revolves around shifts, around opening up and closing down. He spends fifty percent of his life behind a counter and the rest of it in a world of utter boredom.

The sun here seems to measure everything in increments. Its gaze is heavy on Baekhyun’s shoulders and it paints everything in watercolor.

Baekhyun is unhappy, and it annoys him. It bothers him that his emotions are so dependent on one particular guy who wears a suit. It’s not like Chanyeol is irreplaceable.

But… Baekhyun has a feeling that there’s no one like Chanyeol, like there’s something behind a couple meetings and fried fish. There’s a little someone in his head telling him that letting go now is a mistake.

As much as it bothers him, as much as he hates being so desperate, he feels like he’s missing out on something big, so Baekhyun swallows his pride and wakes up early to start back at square one.

Really, he’s being whisked back to something behind zero. It’s not square one, it’s square negative one, because Baekhyun sits at the bench and the bus comes, a man gets off, and Chanyeol never even steps off the bus. Baekhyun hears the snap of Chanyeol’s fingers and the bus, with Chanyeol in it, is gone in a cloud of fog.

÷

Since Baekhyun has come here, since he can remember, he’s never been enamored with anything more than the beauty of the sky, and the man who wears the clown mask. But that adoration was so passive, something he never had to yearn for. The sky wasn’t about to disappear, and neither was Chanyeol.

Now Chanyeol is out of his grasp and Baekhyun feels a sort of fury that he never thought possible.

How dare he?! Chanyeol, ignore him. Baekhyun had done nothing wrong. If he were to leave, at least drop a note, a hint, a little bit of something, but now Baekhyun is left high and dry, with no explanation as to why one kiss would drive Chanyeol this far away.

It takes day after day of Chanyeol shutting that door before Baekhyun can enter, slamming it shut in his face, to drive Baekhyun to a point.

On the seventh day, Baekhyun has been counting, Chanyeol doesn’t close it in time. Baekhyun stuff his arm in the door and pulls them apart.

“Chanyeol,” he glowers when Chanyeol finally opens the doors and Baekhyun takes a step back.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol dips his head politely, his voice is clipped, courteous.

“Chanyeol, why are you--”

Chanyeol snaps his fingers and he’s gone.

Baekhyun spins around, only to see Chanyeol’s figure retreating into the forest. Black suit and shined shoes being swallowed alive by the dense fog, silhouette fading into the distance.

It pisses Baekhyun off because Chanyeol assumes Baekhyun won’t go after him. He assumes that the forest is too much, and Baekhyun doesn’t care enough to chase.

Chanyeol is wrong. Baekhyun grits his teeth, balls his fists, and storms off after Chanyeol, into the forest with no intention of returning until he gets his way.

The fury only takes Baekhyun so far. He follows his feet and his rage, one foot after another onto path after winding path, until the paths begin to fade and Baekhyun is forced to stop and realize where he is.

Baekhyun is lost.

There’s nothing here but fog and no paths and nowhere both forwards and backwards. A sense of panic rises up inside him. There’s no one here and Baekhyun doesn’t know how to get back. It’s all colorless. He feels great regret as he keeps walking, because no one knows where this will lead him. He doesn’t know, relative to here, where that beautiful town is, where Kami is, where that blue stretch of sparkling sea is. He can’t find his way home.

The worst part is that Chanyeol is not here.

He staggers forward. The feeling familiar to the first time he was here, except there’s no bus to drive him away this time.

The first time.

Baekhyun blinks.

The first time, as in this has happened before, as in this is more than being lost in the woods, this is being lost in the woods two blocks away from his home, four blocks away from his school, a short train ride away from university and a car ride from his boyfriend’s hou--

Baekhyun doesn’t need to walk anymore because Chanyeol’s there. He stops immediately, hands falling to his sides to look at the man in the suit. There is no mask, but his face smiling like he’s a clown, teeth white and clean, spanning from ear to ear. He’s grinning like a clown, but there are tears streaming down his face.

Everything is a rush. A burst of color and sound, a chaos that is remarkably comprehensible for just an instant. It’s like a million televisions playing at once. Suddenly, he remembers what a television is. That, and an infinite number of other things. Baekhyun remembers Byun Baekhyun again. The fog finally clears and he can see so far back the way he’d come that it scares him.

He remembers 21st century Korea.

He remembers bits and pieces from childhood, bright sun and loud voices. He remembers middle school, high school, college. He remembers Chanyeol. It’s a bit cloudy, but he remembers Chanyeol in a big ratty t-shirt and he remembers Chanyeol with messy long hair and a smile.

He remembers the attraction.

“Chanyeol is interesting.”

The most defining memories, stand out, black and white in the foreground. The concert at which they first met, The White Phoenix. That time that Chanyeol tried growing his own pearls and all the oysters died in the tank, stinking the place up for days. When Baekhyun tried to save up for an old Volkswagen beatle, but ended up with a particularly rickety, periwinkle, Volkswagen bus.

“I remember,” Now, Baekhyun gasps, staggering back, “I remember. I remember you-- I remember--”

“Baekhyun, Baekhyun, I can explain--” Chanyeol pleads, reaching forward, extending his hand as if to reach out and touch.

“No, I remember everything,” Baekhyun whispers, his voice shakes.

Chanyeol is standing at full height, shoulders straight and head held high, but he’s folding in on himself. He’s closing in. Every effort that Baekhyun has taken to make him talk, smile, laugh-- Baekhyun is watching it unravel in seconds.

“You loved me,” Baekhyun says, almost dumbfounded, “You loved me. You love me. You still love me.”

“Baekhyun, I--”

“And I loved you.”

The unraveling stops.

“I loved you,” Baekhyun realizes aloud, “I loved you so much, and that’s how I got here.”

Chanyeol was in Baekhyun’s first 8am class at university. They had good days together. Three whole years of happiness. Then, gradually, slowly, miserably, things fell apart. It wasn’t them that fell apart. It was Chanyeol.

“No,” Chanyeol is crying, words ripping desperately through tears, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

There wasn’t anything that triggered it, but Baekhyun had begun to realize that Chanyeol wasn’t happy anymore. Then, he began to understand that no matter how much he wanted to kiss it away, how much he wanted Chanyeol to smile again without forcing it, Baekhyun was powerless.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Chanyeol says, said, “I couldn’t help it. I just became like this.”

Baekhyun understood at the time. He really did. But he felt guilty that he couldn’t do a damned thing. He held on for months.

Then, one day, they couldn’t pretend anymore. Chanyeol stopped playing house. Chanyeol didn’t come to classes and Baekhyun couldn’t find him. Baekhyun had a sinking feeling that the chances of saving Chanyeol had become zero.

Baekhyun had gone looking. He had skipped class and had breakfast, and then he had went to find him. He remember what he had, it feels like just minutes ago. An egg, rice, three table spoons of soy sauce, and a cup of roasted green tea from his neighbor.

Baekhyun stands here now with Chanyeol in the clearing, surrounded by haze. They both stand something. Baekhyun realizes, over their own bodies. Chanyeol’s hand is gracing against his own cheek, head dangling forward and eyes blank. They’re surrounded by trees that twist in their branches and creep with their roots. Baekhyun’s body is thrown across the ground, face planted into the dirt. There are bends in Baekhyun’s body where joints don’t exist.

Baekhyun leans down and lifts himself up. Chanyeol is quiet.

Baekhyun wants to vomit. His face is sunken in, barely recognizable. It’s been days, weeks maybe, and everything on this body looks wrong. The bones of his neck are snapped.

It makes sense. Kami has known all along, and Baekhyun now understands why she never gave an answer.

“I’m dead, aren’t I, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun asks, miraculously calmly.

He looks up. Both Chanyeols are there, one standing and one dangling in the other’s arms. The standing one replies.

“Yes,” he whispers.

“You are too,” Baekhyun says, dropping his own corpse back to the ground and brushing his hands off on the cloth of his pants.

The standing Chanyeol lets his own body fall the ground. It hits the dirt with a sickly thud.

“Why?” Chanyeol’s voice is thin.

“I came looking for you,” Baekhyun says, looking at the two of them, face down in the dirt. He doesn’t want to flip either of them over because he knows some things are better not remembered, “I must have fallen.”

“You came looking?”

“Of course I came looking,” Baekhyun frowns, “I loved you. I told you so many times.”

“I know.”

“From the looks of it,” Baekhyun glances around, “I fell and broke my neck. Probably over there.” He points to a rock that juts from the ground, sharp and dangerous, impossible to see through thick fog.

Chanyeol has nothing to say.

“I probably died before I even saw you,” Baekhyun hums, looking at the two bodies, “You were right there, dangling on that tree. I spent all day looking and I probably didn’t ever find you.”

“Please, Baekhyun…”

“Please for what, Chanyeol?” Baekhyun presses his lips together.

Chanyeol looks at his feet. Baekhyun’s expression softens.

“Why did you leave me?” he asks softly.

“I didn’t,” Chanyeol says immediately, “I left me.”

They meet each other’s gazes.

“It was hard, wasn’t it?” Baekhyun whispers.

“Yes.”

“And I never really understood.”

“I knew you wouldn’t.”

“I wanted to.”

“But I didn’t understand it either, Baekhyun. I woke up one day, and it was too much. I couldn’t do it any longer. It’s hard to explain it. It’s just… I couldn’t find words for it. It felt like I was surrounded by endless nothing and I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Baekhyun closes his eyes.

“But I thought of you. You were the thing that came closest to stopping me. You stopped me every day for months.”

“But I took a day off,” Baekhyun says bitterly.

“No,” Chanyeol shakes his head, “You went overtime. You came chasing after me.”

They stand meters apart, looking at each other simply, but honestly.

“I was selfish,” Chanyeol says.

Baekhyun doesn’t deny it.

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol bows his head, “You won’t ever forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it. I was told that I may be driving that bus forever.”

Baekhyun frowns in confusion.

“I’m here, and not on the other side of that river, because I have unfinished business,” Chanyeol clarifies, “That’s how you get on the ferry. You reach closure.”

“Closure?”

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol laughs weakly, “I’m dead because of me, but I’m stuck in the land of repenting because I’m never going to be able to make it up to you. I’m never going to stop being sorry.”

“Is the other side of the river heaven?”

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol says honestly, “It may be heaven, it may be hell, it may be where we came from. All I know is that we’re supposed to get there and that I drive people who aren’t ready for it to a stop in between.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t tell you how horrified I was when I picked you up in the forest. I checked to see if you had fare, and you did. I wanted to disappear, the guilt grew. I’m never going to forget how it felt to realize that you had come too.”

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun glances at their bodies on the ground. It seems nobody has found them yet. He wonders if they’ve been reported missing.

“Yes?”

“I’ve forgiven you already.”

Chanyeol stares at him blankly.

“I’m not upset with you. I never was.”

The fog of the forest begins to clear, slowly seeping back.

“If you’re sorry,” Baekhyun says, “I forgive you.”

There’s a soft chime, the sound of metal resonating. Something falls from the sky to Chanyeol’s feet.

They share a look and Chanyeol leans down to pick up a small golden coin from the leaves. He brushes it off. It looks exactly like the coin that Baekhyun had given to Chanyeol in order to take that bus, except it’s gold.

It’s funny how big things come in such uneventful ways. Baekhyun rocks back on his heels and smiles as Chanyeol stares at his palm in wonder.

“It’s the ferry fare, isn’t it,” Baekhyun says knowingly.

“Yeah,” Chanyeol breathes.

“You should go,” Baekhyun smiles.

Chanyeol’s face falters, “but you--”

“You know,” Baekhyun chuckles, “It’s funny. Even before I remembered that I loved you before. I loved you now.”

Chanyeol stares.

“I loved the Chanyeol in the old unisex t-shirts and videogames. I loved the Chanyeol who couldn’t get out of bed in the morning. I loved you even as you were starting to fade away,” Baekhyun decides, “But I love the Chanyeol who wears that terrifying clown mask and drives a rickety old bus in the forest. I love the Chanyeol that tries to avoid me when he can because he remembers and I don’t. I love the Chanyeol who is here, now.”

Baekhyun steps over his body on the ground, taking Chanyeol by the sleeve and pulling him in closer.

“I love you, and even though I’m stuck here, and I don’t know why I’m not worthy of going to the other side, and I don’t know if I ever will. I love you Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol rests his hand on Baekhyun’s cheek, soft and careful, as if he’s terrified that something will break.

“You should go,” Baekhyun smiles, “I’ll be here. You will wait for me on the other side, right?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol is shaking.

“Good,” Baekhyun laughs, “Because I’m always going to be running after you. You got that?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol is crying, or laughing, or maybe a little bit of both. With them, it will always be a little bit of both.

“Let’s go back. There’s nothing for us here now.”

Baekhyun takes Chanyeol’s hand, and they go back together. The path is easy to find now that the mist is gone. They walk back together to the village of vivid color.

÷

Chanyeol is leaving on the next full moon. Baekhyun finds it surprisingly easy to come to terms with the fact that Chanyeol is going to leave. He finds it harder to come to terms with the fact that he himself is going to stay.

He figures, he’ll be here, keep up with the shop, maybe go down to the market, but without Chanyeol, there aren’t any questions that Baekhyun wants to have answered.

The last time Chanyeol left him, Baekhyun went chasing after him.

This time, Baekhyun can’t. He wants to be more than this, to have more than Chanyeol. He doesn’t want Chanyeol to be so pivotal that he can break the axis of Baekhyun’s world to pieces.
The day inches closer and closer, and Baekhyun feels lost. Chanyeol is still there, telling Baekhyun he loves him and holding his hand, but it’s as if he’s already gone. Baekhyun is wrapped up in himself now, because for the first time in what seems like forever, what matters is not Chanyeol, or Chanyeol and Baekhyun. Chanyeol is important, will always be important, but they can’t be ruined when they’re torn apart. Baekhyun needs to matter just as much as Chanyeol, two uniform pieces to a predictable puzzle.

When Chanyeol gets ready to depart, Baekhyun cries. For the first time, he cries in front of Chanyeol and doesn’t shrink away when Chanyeol’s hands come out to meet his shoulders.

“Don’t cry Baekhyun,” Chanyeol reassures him, “You’ll be with me soon.”

“Yes,” Baekhyun replies, “But what am I until then?”

Chanyeol looks at him, pats Baekhyun’s head and smiles. His eyes sparkle in a way that Baekhyun never recalls ever seeing before.

“I don’t know,” Chanyeol says. Kissing Baekhyun on the jaw lightly before standing up and pulling his shoulders back. He looks happy. Baekhyun watches in awe.

Baekhyun wonders for a fleeting second, as Chanyeol starts to walk away. If his family is happy, if his family knows yet. He wonders about his mother, about his other friends. The way Chanyeol is standing tall-- that’s how he wants everyone he loves to look.

He regrets not saying more to his mother before venturing out to the woods, but he can’t change the past, only walk into the future with his head held high.

Chanyeol is walking onto the ferry. As soon as he’s aboard, he leans against the railing and waves enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. Baekhyun can’t help but smile back.

It’s simple, but in that moment, Baekhyun decides that he wants to be a better friend, a better lover, a better son, and a better man.

He doesn’t tear up as Chanyeol finally backs away from the edge of the boat, turning away to face the horizon.

He clenches his fists and sucks in a deep breath. This is the start of something, a new adventure, and it’s going to be great. Kami is waiting back in the shop for him, and he has a place to be.

He’s just about to turn away, just about to leave, and then someone catches him by his shoulder. For a split second he expects it to be Chanyeol, but it isn’t. The clown mask is there, but the man is hunched, old, smiling in a way that doesn’t seem disturbed.

It’s the ferryman, Baekhyun realizes.

“Son,” the man says, while smiling, he cups Baekhyun’s hand in his, “Do you have fare?”

Oh. He must have been in the way.“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun apologizes immediately, “I don’t, I’ll get out of your way, I was just saying goodbye to--”

The man smiles and gently unfolds Baekhyun’s clenched fingers.

There’s a shimmering golden coin.

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