→ From Thirteen to One
Date Finished: 10.12.2009
Title: From Thirteen to One
Genre: Supernatural+Romance+Angst
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Jongwoon (Yehsung)
Warning: Character death
Summary: Love did not mix with beings like him.
A/N: Written for yeonah whose request was “Smile, nod, and don't let them know their time's almost up.”
Some notes to consider before reading this fic;
- This fic was inspired solely by this video. Without it (and the help of a donut with vanilla icing and sprinkles), this fic would have never have come about. Even if you don’t like Kingdom Hearts, I really suggest listening to the video at least in the background while you’re reading this.
- There is a reference to Boreas, the Greek god of the North Wind. I’ve used it simply to describe the wind/breeze in a certain scene as violent and cold.
- There are some references to the Bible and God.
Thirteen.
A grim task he was given, and a grim task he would carry out. He had long gotten used to the endless ugly cycles of his job. One could call him a reaper, but that was not true, not by their standards. He wasn’t garbed in dark black shrouds, nor did he carry a scythe or any weapon of any kind.
He was simply a tall, pale-complexioned, young man, one who possessed a bored look in his eyes almost all the time, and other than the fact that he did not like bright colours of any sort (they were too garish for his taste), there was nothing about him that could possibly hint at what he was, or what it was that he did.
”Where is he?”
”We must find him.”
His newest and most current task was to find a Kim Jongwoon. Age 23, born August 24. 179 centimeters tall, weighed in at 64 kg. Also known as “Yehsung”. Acronym for “Yesulgaui Seongdae.” Vocal chords of an Artist.
That was all that he remembered from the profile that he had been given.
Twelve.
If there was anything Kyuhyun could deduce from the human race, it was that when God had created them, he obviously hadn’t put much sharpness to them.
A creation born of ignorance.
After all, what else could be expected of humans, whom the Bible dictated had been created from dust, and brought to life with God the creator’s breath. They were dust, dirt, earth. And they would return from whence they came from. Dust. Dirt. Earth.
Kyuhyun picked up his cup of coffee from the table, his nose pinching in displeasure at the smell of the bleach used to wipe the surfaces clean. Bringing the coffee to his lips, he inhaled the strong scent of cream, and caffeinated liquid.
He looked back at the manila folder lying open on the table, a picture of a young man paper-clipped to the upper left-hand corner. He was fair complexioned, skin lightly tanned, with hair like raven’s feathers brushing at his shoulders, and deep eyes, dark and black, slightly downcast. High cheekbones with baby-faced dimples, and lips with a prominent cupid’s bow. He was looking at a purple anemone flower that he was holding in his fingers. Small, delicate-looking fingers.
Kyuhyun took another last sip of the long-cooled coffee, before setting it on the table, reaching into his pocket to pull out the bills needed to pay for it, flattening them and setting them on the table, putting the cup on top.
From dust they came, to dust they go. Fitting for a creation born of ignorance.
Eleven.
Beneath the shadows of evil, behind the deepest shroud of darkness, there is the door to light. An escape. A heaven.
He thinks it’s all silly things. Things that humans think up, make into a religion, write hundreds of books on. Just so they can believe that it is true.
Beneath darkness, there is still more darkness. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, so to say. Kyuhyun believed only in the light that is before the darkness; the night before the dawn. And he knows that what he believed in is truth; he had been doing his job for more years than he can possibly remember, and knew Death, Darkness, Light, and Heaven like the back of his hand.
The familiar manila folder containing Jongwoon’s profile sat closed in front of him as his hands clasped at his chin. It was taking him unusually long to find this young man. Then again, the population of Seoul was increasing with each passing day.
He opened the folder, reading the profile again for about the hundredth time.
Kim Jongwoon. Age 23, born August 24. 179 centimeters tall, weighed in at 64 kg. Also known as “Yehsung.”
From underneath all the physical information about him, there were other sheets. Some of them were music scores, others just sheets of lined paper, ripped messily out of marble notebooks.
Behind the darkness ≠ The Door to Light was scrawled on one sheet, in actual English, in cursive that looked unevenly slanted and almost careless.
Kyuhyun let an ironic smile come to his face. It was as if this Jongwoon knew he was going to die.
Ten.
Three months. Three months he had been looking for this Jongwoon, this man who looked like a young boy, whose very name claimed him to have the voice of an artiste.
It was an unusually long time for him to be looking for anyone; usually he would have found his objectives within two weeks of being assigned, 4 weeks at the most. A month then, at the most.
The secret place…
On the backs of music sheets, he hadn’t found as much as one hint, to help him of any place this Jongwoon could be. This person was a lucky one, his life was being prolonged. Kyuhyun sighed, sifting through the papers. It was one or the other; either this Jongwoon had all the luck in the world, or he was just the unluckiest bastard right now. It would be sad if it were both, he sulked to himself.
A soft singing brought him out of his reverie, and his eyes widened when he heard it. The song was something he couldn’t put a mind to, nor did he remember the melody at the top of his head, but from the way his chest suddenly felt as though it had just twisted into itself.
Looking up to see who was singing, the back profile of a raven haired, small-framed young man met his dark brown eyes, as his brows knitted. He wanted to see his face.
The young man turned around, his small, delicate fingers clutching onto a music score. The sheets were aged, and yellowed at the edges, but the ink still dark. Kyuhyun looked up just a little bit more, and he felt, for the first time, that he was frozen to where he was sitting.
A fair complexioned face, lightly tainted, high cheekbones with baby-faced dimples, and lips with a prominent cupid’s bow. Lips that were curved into a soft smile at no one in particular, dark eyes forming twinkling crescent moons.
”His voice…it’s left me.”
He didn’t know why he heard his own voice saying those words in his head, leaving a disconcerting familiar taste on his tongue.
But he had found him. Kim Jongwoon.
Nine.
A world between is a forgotten world. Thus grey was the colour most forgotten, stuck between black and white. No one ever remembered the in between of good and evil. The normal ones, ironically enough.
After finding Jongwoon, Kyuhyun had taken to shadowing him. The young man was strange; although already 23 years old, he hardly acted like it. He had an air about him like a child’s. The ugliest evils seemed to bounce right off his innocent demeanor.
Perhaps he was a world in between. A naïve child trapped in the body of a young man, or a young man with the mindset of a naïve child. Perhaps that was always why Jongwoon was always alone.
A world between = A forgotten world
He followed Jongwoon discreetly through a park, pretending to be interested in the autumn leaves falling off the trees in droves as he walked a ways off from him. As Boreas whipped them about into swirling clouds of rusted brown, yellows, and orange-reds, its blustery winds snatched from his assignment’s hand, one of his music scores.
It flew, swirling up and down, in the air before it came quite near to Kyuhyun, and he reached out, easily grasping out and plucking them from atop the unruly gale. Jongwoon came following not a moment sooner, slightly out of breath as he looked up, his smile sheepish and paired with those twinkling moon eyes.
He handed them back to the young man without a word, and stood rooted to his spot after Jongwoon had long gone, his head tipping back with closed eyes to face the sordid grey sky above.
It was the first time he felt rain on his skin in a very long time.
Eight.
What humans feared were things that were nonexistent. To be frank, people like him.
Aside from their own shadows and fears, aside from those they loathed in their everyday lives, there was the third enemy.
The third enemy = Nobody
Kyuhyun drifted, coming to stand outside the apartment building that Jongwoon resided in. The reaper had a strange look in his half-lidded eyes, as he stared forward. It was strange, why hadn’t he just taken Jongwoon’s life when he had found him?
This was just another assignment, was it not? It was so easy, to go into the human’s room, and simply reach into his chest, his hand phasing through as if he was reaching into smoke, instead of skin, muscle, and bone. And all he would have to do was clasp his hands around that thread, the glowing center that was the soul, and pull it out.
Just another assignment, it was, yes. But then he heard Jongwoon’s voice singing again, and that twisting clench in his chest came back, and he closed his eyes and faced the dark clouded sky above again, listening to the soft song that floated strong on the air and into his ears.
And again, he couldn’t fathom why Jongwoon’s voice sounded too familiar.
Seven.
”What took you so long?”
The voice was followed by a laugh, airy with a light, husky background tone. It was that laugh that woke him up, with a cold sweat on his face and his breath slightly uneven.
It disconcerted him, and he sat up in his bed, his hands running over his face. He never dreamt, no exaggeration in those words. In all the years he could remember, as far back as he could remember anyway, he couldn’t recall the last dream he had, if he had any to begin with. All he remembered of his sleeping, was black. Nothingness.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the manila folder containing Jongwoon’s profile. It was now 5 months since he had been given his assignment, and still, he had yet to carry out what was supposed to be done.
Sooner or later, he would have to.
Six.
He had known they would come sending for him. He had suspected they would after the first month he had been assigned, but that was before he had found Jongwoon. After the second month, and far into the third month, he was ready to bet everything he had (not that he had many things) that they would be coming to him.
So it didn’t surprise him as much as it should have, when Hangeng showed up at the door of his apartment on dusky evening, the fifth month he hadn’t come back, followed by Henry. He already knew the message they would bear with them.
”We have come for you, Kyuhyun.”
The two of them didn’t stay long. It was mostly Hangeng doing the talking; Henry was simply drifting about the apartment, straying to the open window in the living room, his expression stoic.
“Why haven’t you returned? It’s unusual for you to be taking this long.” The older one’s tone was hinted heavily with worry.
Up until now, Kyuhyun’s eyes had been met with Hangeng’s, but now, he turned his gaze away to somewhere else, averting his eyes away with his face expressionless.
“Nothing important.” was his short reply, curt and sounding irritable. He could feel Henry’s sharp but quiet gaze suddenly directed to him at his answer, and was practically able to see the younger one’s eyes narrowing. Hangeng’s protégé obviously thought him to be not very courteous to his guardian, whom he held in high regard.
Hangeng frowned visibly, and after watching Kyuhyun’s face remained unchanged, he sighed. “Whatever your reason may be…please. Hurry…will you?”
Kyuhyun closed his eyes for a moment, opening his eyes with that same empty expression in them. “Fine…”
He closed his eyes once more, this time keeping them closed for a little bit longer, before opening them again.
“Is that all?” Hangeng’s expression looked helpless for a moment; it was an expression of a person who was very lost, and didn’t know what to do anymore. Finally, he stood up from the kitchen table in Kyuhyun’s apartment, and bowed somewhat awkwardly.
“That is all. Good night, Kyuhyun.” He bowed, and held out a hand, gesturing for Henry to come. Henry followed his example and gave a short bow. He gave a small nudge to the older one when he stood in the doorway for another long moment, his gaze on Kyuhyun, whose eyes were still far-off someplace.
When they finally left, Kyuhyun let out a long sigh he hadn’t known he had been holding in.
To be honest…he didn’t know himself why he was still here.
Five.
How strange it was, now that he thought about it. How strange was it, that even though he had been drifting about the young human for months now, he had yet to speak a word to him?
But speak of the devil (no pun intended). As soon as he had the thought, he happened to chance upon Jongwoon. Though, it was more like Jongwoon had come upon him, really. And just when he was actually not following him.
“I see you a lot.” He was surprised to hear something other than a song coming forth from those lips, the mouth that was smiling broadly, but softly, dimpling his cheeks. Kyuhyun hadn’t replied right away, but Jongwoon, he had sat himself next to him on the park bench that he had been sitting on for quite some time now.
“Have we met…before?” Kyuhyun didn’t answer. Jongwoon’s smile fell slightly, but it didn’t go away. He seemed undeterred. A yawn broke whatever was left of the pretty smile, and he covered his mouth to muffle it.
“You are a strange person.”
Oh, he didn’t know the half of it.
”But why?”
He still couldn’t find the reason why he felt this hurting familiarity when he turned his head, his eyes sighting Jongwoon’s sweet smile.
Four.
Nine months, two weeks, and four days.
That was how long he had spent on this assignment. The last two months of those nine months, two weeks, and four days went by surprisingly fast, but it would not have normally. It was only because of Jongwoon.
It was not too difficult for the young man to find out where he lived; it was the next building across the street to the right, of Jongwoon’s own apartment. Jongwoon had taken to bringing him over to his apartment, and without complaint, he had followed.
Jongwoon sang while doing everything. When he dusted his books, he sang, When he cooked, he sang. When he bathed, he sang. Everywhere he sang.
Kyuhyun had never known he could need someone’s voice so badly, but apparently he did, for it was this case with Jongwoon’s voice. It was heavenly, for lack of more and better words.
One day, Jongwoon decided to take him to someplace else. He did his best to ignore the way their fingers fit perfectly into each other, raising up more unpleasant familiar feelings once more. He let himself be led through winding park paths, and soon enough, Jongwoon stopped in his tracks.
Kyuhyun looked around. It was a secluded corner of the park, hidden away by a grove of weeping willows, and white plum blossom trees. Petals like snow were scattered about the grassy ground, and from the open end of the small space, one could see the ocean, blue, and lit aflame by the sun.
”What is this place?” he found himself asking (yes, he had finally decided to open his mouth, and talk to him).
“My secret place…” Kyuhyun nodded, and closed his eyes, seeing nothing but black, as usual, but breathing in the warm balmy air.
From a quick peek out the corner of his eye, Kyuhyun saw that Jongwoon had done the same, and he was clasping another purple anemone blossom in his fingers. And then he began to sing softly to himself, a bittersweet melody.
His head began to hurt, and he held a hand to his temple.
A flash of a soft, gentle smile. Deep dark eyes, and hair like raven’s feathers. An airy, husky beautiful laugh. A lovely voice, singing a bittersweet melody.
He was jerked sharply out of his fragmented visions by the sound of an erratic coughing fit, and he looked up, seeing Jongwoon still standing next to him, hand holding a folded tissue to his mouth. It came away stained with a blot of dark red bigger than the width of two of his fingers.
So this was why he had been assigned to Jongwoon. The realization didn’t soothe the confusing mess of scenes he didn’t remember or understand.
He put a hand to his heart. What was happening to him?
Three.
Eden had been Paradise, at one point in time. But Eden was long gone now; did that mean that Paradise had vanished as well?
Another month had passed, and Kyuhyun, though he refused to admit it, had become attached to Jongwoon. But of course, he never touched him. It was against what was allowed for someone of his job.
Jongwoon never seemed to be offended by it; he would smile, softly, every time they met. When he thought Kyuhyun wouldn’t notice, he would rest his head lightly on his shoulder. But Kyuhyun noticed; he just chose not to say anything.
“You were in my dream last night.” he told him, and Kyuhyun had merely raised an eyebrow. Jongwoon just smiled, and continued talking as Kyuhyun closed his eyes, listening intently.
“We were in a blank white place…nothing but white everywhere. Even my clothes were white.” he said, using his delicate hands to gesture at his clothes, “And then I saw you. You looked just like you do now.”
Kyuhyun had opened his eyes again, his gaze on Jongwoon, who kept talking.
“And you held out your hand to me.” the young man looked up at Kyuhyun. He didn’t need to know what the young man was going to say next; he already knew.
“And I said to you...” he said, ”We’ll go together.”
He turned to look at Jongwoon, his expression waiting for a confirmation. Jongwoon looked surprised, but he smiled softly, looking at his hands with a faint glow to his cheeks.
“Yes, that’s what you said.”
Kyuhyun sighed, the sound heavy. His hand reached for Jongwoon’s smaller hand, entwining their fingers.
“Yes…we’ll go together into Paradise.” He murmured, his face expressionless, but his gaze melancholy.
Neither he nor Jongwoon had much time left.
Two.
He was dying. But Kyuhyun had already known that.
After all, what was his assignment for then? His job was not to save lives, his job was to end them.
He was sitting in Jongwoon’s room, by his bed. The young man was asleep, his hair mussed and expression untroubled. The trouble was placed by his bed, a silk kerchief stained an aged crimson with blood.
He looked down at the delicate fingers clasped in his own, the digits suddenly looking far more frail. He brought them to his lips gently, kissing the knuckles.
Another twisting clench in his chest followed it, and he clutched at his heart, his other hand grabbing onto the nearby curtains with a force hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
This time the vision he saw wasn’t fragmented; it was a whole picture, faded at the edges but whole.
A young man with baby-dimple cheeks, hair like raven’s feathers. Pale, lightly-tanned skin, lips with a prominent cupid’s bow. Beautiful dark eyes like the moon, and a smile like the sun. A laugh like the stars, a voice that brought the heavens to shame, and dressed in robes of silk brocade.
“Jongwoon…” he gasped, his expression surprised. When the vision left him, he put his face to his hands, suddenly tired. Jongwoon didn’t stir; he hadn’t been awakened by his racket.
”He looks just like you.”
The young man from his memories…was it Jongwoon? He didn’t know for sure.
One.
Jongwoon lay in his arms, his eyes closed, and his fingers holding his gently. Kyuhyun leaned against the leaning willow tree of the secret grove, his eyes closed as he took in a breath of the ocean.
With that one breath, he suddenly found himself frozen, and they were suddenly in a stark blank white space.
Jongwoon lay in his arms, and he didn’t seem to have noticed. It was only moments later, that Kyuhyun realized that the young man could not see what he was seeing.
The rustle of cloth alerted him to the presence of another. It was another familiar. Yoochun.
His face remained expressionless, glassed over. Seeing the change, Yoochun frowned. His frown only grew when he saw Jongwoon, quite possibly asleep.
“What are you doing? Do you realize how long you have been gone? And the consequences?”
“11 months and 28 days. The consequences don’t matter to me.” He replied, raising a hand to brush the hair away from his eyes.
“What do you mean, “The consequences don’t matter”? Damn it, Kyuhyun, you could be killed if they find out that you’ve even talked to a human, much less touched them like this!”
Yoochun’s eyes softened sadly when he finally had a better look at Jongwoon’s face. “He looks…just like him..”
Kyuhyun averted his gaze to Jongwoon once more. In his hands was another purple anemone.
“You’ve…fallen for him.” He didn’t say anything to Yoochun’s statement.
“Kyuhyun..you do realize… sooner or later.. he will only get worse, the longer you put off his death. It’s better to end it…before he truly suffers.”
Kyuhyun put a hand to Jongwoon’s cheek, the gesture quietly affectionate.
“I know.”
Zero.
”I love you…”
Those were Jongwoon’s last words, before he fell asleep for eternity, with his fingers clasped with Kyuhyun’s.
It had been a simple thing, to reach into his heart, and grasp the glowing spirit, holding it in his hands. And after he had done it, he had closed his hands around it, and held his hand to his lips.
His hands closed completely around the shining soul, and it crushed in his hands, floating out of his hands skyward in beautiful white threads, and sparkles like newborn stars.
And he closed his eyes, taking in the breath of the ocean as he heard Jongwoon’s voice singing past his ears, with a voice that brought the heavens to shame.
Before his eyes, there was a last and final vision. Him as a happier person, a smile on his lips and his eyes bright as he chased a young man around a willow tree, the both of them clad in silk brocade robes with colours vibrant as the sun shining on them. Warm hands clasped, and they both fell, laughing.
Their lips met with a warm feeling like damp silk. He put his fingers to his lips as though he were trying to remember the taste of the moon and the stars on them.
”Everything has come back to me…the true love..”
And he cried, with a wetness to his cheeks that felt like rain.
Title: From Thirteen to One
Genre: Supernatural+Romance+Angst
Rating: PG
Pairing: Kyuhyun/Jongwoon (Yehsung)
Warning: Character death
Summary: Love did not mix with beings like him.
A/N: Written for yeonah whose request was “Smile, nod, and don't let them know their time's almost up.”
Some notes to consider before reading this fic;
- This fic was inspired solely by this video. Without it (and the help of a donut with vanilla icing and sprinkles), this fic would have never have come about. Even if you don’t like Kingdom Hearts, I really suggest listening to the video at least in the background while you’re reading this.
- There is a reference to Boreas, the Greek god of the North Wind. I’ve used it simply to describe the wind/breeze in a certain scene as violent and cold.
- There are some references to the Bible and God.
Thirteen.
A grim task he was given, and a grim task he would carry out. He had long gotten used to the endless ugly cycles of his job. One could call him a reaper, but that was not true, not by their standards. He wasn’t garbed in dark black shrouds, nor did he carry a scythe or any weapon of any kind.
He was simply a tall, pale-complexioned, young man, one who possessed a bored look in his eyes almost all the time, and other than the fact that he did not like bright colours of any sort (they were too garish for his taste), there was nothing about him that could possibly hint at what he was, or what it was that he did.
”Where is he?”
”We must find him.”
His newest and most current task was to find a Kim Jongwoon. Age 23, born August 24. 179 centimeters tall, weighed in at 64 kg. Also known as “Yehsung”. Acronym for “Yesulgaui Seongdae.” Vocal chords of an Artist.
That was all that he remembered from the profile that he had been given.
Twelve.
If there was anything Kyuhyun could deduce from the human race, it was that when God had created them, he obviously hadn’t put much sharpness to them.
A creation born of ignorance.
After all, what else could be expected of humans, whom the Bible dictated had been created from dust, and brought to life with God the creator’s breath. They were dust, dirt, earth. And they would return from whence they came from. Dust. Dirt. Earth.
Kyuhyun picked up his cup of coffee from the table, his nose pinching in displeasure at the smell of the bleach used to wipe the surfaces clean. Bringing the coffee to his lips, he inhaled the strong scent of cream, and caffeinated liquid.
He looked back at the manila folder lying open on the table, a picture of a young man paper-clipped to the upper left-hand corner. He was fair complexioned, skin lightly tanned, with hair like raven’s feathers brushing at his shoulders, and deep eyes, dark and black, slightly downcast. High cheekbones with baby-faced dimples, and lips with a prominent cupid’s bow. He was looking at a purple anemone flower that he was holding in his fingers. Small, delicate-looking fingers.
Kyuhyun took another last sip of the long-cooled coffee, before setting it on the table, reaching into his pocket to pull out the bills needed to pay for it, flattening them and setting them on the table, putting the cup on top.
From dust they came, to dust they go. Fitting for a creation born of ignorance.
Eleven.
Beneath the shadows of evil, behind the deepest shroud of darkness, there is the door to light. An escape. A heaven.
He thinks it’s all silly things. Things that humans think up, make into a religion, write hundreds of books on. Just so they can believe that it is true.
Beneath darkness, there is still more darkness. There is no light at the end of the tunnel, so to say. Kyuhyun believed only in the light that is before the darkness; the night before the dawn. And he knows that what he believed in is truth; he had been doing his job for more years than he can possibly remember, and knew Death, Darkness, Light, and Heaven like the back of his hand.
The familiar manila folder containing Jongwoon’s profile sat closed in front of him as his hands clasped at his chin. It was taking him unusually long to find this young man. Then again, the population of Seoul was increasing with each passing day.
He opened the folder, reading the profile again for about the hundredth time.
Kim Jongwoon. Age 23, born August 24. 179 centimeters tall, weighed in at 64 kg. Also known as “Yehsung.”
From underneath all the physical information about him, there were other sheets. Some of them were music scores, others just sheets of lined paper, ripped messily out of marble notebooks.
Behind the darkness ≠ The Door to Light was scrawled on one sheet, in actual English, in cursive that looked unevenly slanted and almost careless.
Kyuhyun let an ironic smile come to his face. It was as if this Jongwoon knew he was going to die.
Ten.
Three months. Three months he had been looking for this Jongwoon, this man who looked like a young boy, whose very name claimed him to have the voice of an artiste.
It was an unusually long time for him to be looking for anyone; usually he would have found his objectives within two weeks of being assigned, 4 weeks at the most. A month then, at the most.
The secret place…
On the backs of music sheets, he hadn’t found as much as one hint, to help him of any place this Jongwoon could be. This person was a lucky one, his life was being prolonged. Kyuhyun sighed, sifting through the papers. It was one or the other; either this Jongwoon had all the luck in the world, or he was just the unluckiest bastard right now. It would be sad if it were both, he sulked to himself.
A soft singing brought him out of his reverie, and his eyes widened when he heard it. The song was something he couldn’t put a mind to, nor did he remember the melody at the top of his head, but from the way his chest suddenly felt as though it had just twisted into itself.
Looking up to see who was singing, the back profile of a raven haired, small-framed young man met his dark brown eyes, as his brows knitted. He wanted to see his face.
The young man turned around, his small, delicate fingers clutching onto a music score. The sheets were aged, and yellowed at the edges, but the ink still dark. Kyuhyun looked up just a little bit more, and he felt, for the first time, that he was frozen to where he was sitting.
A fair complexioned face, lightly tainted, high cheekbones with baby-faced dimples, and lips with a prominent cupid’s bow. Lips that were curved into a soft smile at no one in particular, dark eyes forming twinkling crescent moons.
”His voice…it’s left me.”
He didn’t know why he heard his own voice saying those words in his head, leaving a disconcerting familiar taste on his tongue.
But he had found him. Kim Jongwoon.
Nine.
A world between is a forgotten world. Thus grey was the colour most forgotten, stuck between black and white. No one ever remembered the in between of good and evil. The normal ones, ironically enough.
After finding Jongwoon, Kyuhyun had taken to shadowing him. The young man was strange; although already 23 years old, he hardly acted like it. He had an air about him like a child’s. The ugliest evils seemed to bounce right off his innocent demeanor.
Perhaps he was a world in between. A naïve child trapped in the body of a young man, or a young man with the mindset of a naïve child. Perhaps that was always why Jongwoon was always alone.
A world between = A forgotten world
He followed Jongwoon discreetly through a park, pretending to be interested in the autumn leaves falling off the trees in droves as he walked a ways off from him. As Boreas whipped them about into swirling clouds of rusted brown, yellows, and orange-reds, its blustery winds snatched from his assignment’s hand, one of his music scores.
It flew, swirling up and down, in the air before it came quite near to Kyuhyun, and he reached out, easily grasping out and plucking them from atop the unruly gale. Jongwoon came following not a moment sooner, slightly out of breath as he looked up, his smile sheepish and paired with those twinkling moon eyes.
He handed them back to the young man without a word, and stood rooted to his spot after Jongwoon had long gone, his head tipping back with closed eyes to face the sordid grey sky above.
It was the first time he felt rain on his skin in a very long time.
Eight.
What humans feared were things that were nonexistent. To be frank, people like him.
Aside from their own shadows and fears, aside from those they loathed in their everyday lives, there was the third enemy.
The third enemy = Nobody
Kyuhyun drifted, coming to stand outside the apartment building that Jongwoon resided in. The reaper had a strange look in his half-lidded eyes, as he stared forward. It was strange, why hadn’t he just taken Jongwoon’s life when he had found him?
This was just another assignment, was it not? It was so easy, to go into the human’s room, and simply reach into his chest, his hand phasing through as if he was reaching into smoke, instead of skin, muscle, and bone. And all he would have to do was clasp his hands around that thread, the glowing center that was the soul, and pull it out.
Just another assignment, it was, yes. But then he heard Jongwoon’s voice singing again, and that twisting clench in his chest came back, and he closed his eyes and faced the dark clouded sky above again, listening to the soft song that floated strong on the air and into his ears.
And again, he couldn’t fathom why Jongwoon’s voice sounded too familiar.
Seven.
”What took you so long?”
The voice was followed by a laugh, airy with a light, husky background tone. It was that laugh that woke him up, with a cold sweat on his face and his breath slightly uneven.
It disconcerted him, and he sat up in his bed, his hands running over his face. He never dreamt, no exaggeration in those words. In all the years he could remember, as far back as he could remember anyway, he couldn’t recall the last dream he had, if he had any to begin with. All he remembered of his sleeping, was black. Nothingness.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the manila folder containing Jongwoon’s profile. It was now 5 months since he had been given his assignment, and still, he had yet to carry out what was supposed to be done.
Sooner or later, he would have to.
Six.
He had known they would come sending for him. He had suspected they would after the first month he had been assigned, but that was before he had found Jongwoon. After the second month, and far into the third month, he was ready to bet everything he had (not that he had many things) that they would be coming to him.
So it didn’t surprise him as much as it should have, when Hangeng showed up at the door of his apartment on dusky evening, the fifth month he hadn’t come back, followed by Henry. He already knew the message they would bear with them.
”We have come for you, Kyuhyun.”
The two of them didn’t stay long. It was mostly Hangeng doing the talking; Henry was simply drifting about the apartment, straying to the open window in the living room, his expression stoic.
“Why haven’t you returned? It’s unusual for you to be taking this long.” The older one’s tone was hinted heavily with worry.
Up until now, Kyuhyun’s eyes had been met with Hangeng’s, but now, he turned his gaze away to somewhere else, averting his eyes away with his face expressionless.
“Nothing important.” was his short reply, curt and sounding irritable. He could feel Henry’s sharp but quiet gaze suddenly directed to him at his answer, and was practically able to see the younger one’s eyes narrowing. Hangeng’s protégé obviously thought him to be not very courteous to his guardian, whom he held in high regard.
Hangeng frowned visibly, and after watching Kyuhyun’s face remained unchanged, he sighed. “Whatever your reason may be…please. Hurry…will you?”
Kyuhyun closed his eyes for a moment, opening his eyes with that same empty expression in them. “Fine…”
He closed his eyes once more, this time keeping them closed for a little bit longer, before opening them again.
“Is that all?” Hangeng’s expression looked helpless for a moment; it was an expression of a person who was very lost, and didn’t know what to do anymore. Finally, he stood up from the kitchen table in Kyuhyun’s apartment, and bowed somewhat awkwardly.
“That is all. Good night, Kyuhyun.” He bowed, and held out a hand, gesturing for Henry to come. Henry followed his example and gave a short bow. He gave a small nudge to the older one when he stood in the doorway for another long moment, his gaze on Kyuhyun, whose eyes were still far-off someplace.
When they finally left, Kyuhyun let out a long sigh he hadn’t known he had been holding in.
To be honest…he didn’t know himself why he was still here.
Five.
How strange it was, now that he thought about it. How strange was it, that even though he had been drifting about the young human for months now, he had yet to speak a word to him?
But speak of the devil (no pun intended). As soon as he had the thought, he happened to chance upon Jongwoon. Though, it was more like Jongwoon had come upon him, really. And just when he was actually not following him.
“I see you a lot.” He was surprised to hear something other than a song coming forth from those lips, the mouth that was smiling broadly, but softly, dimpling his cheeks. Kyuhyun hadn’t replied right away, but Jongwoon, he had sat himself next to him on the park bench that he had been sitting on for quite some time now.
“Have we met…before?” Kyuhyun didn’t answer. Jongwoon’s smile fell slightly, but it didn’t go away. He seemed undeterred. A yawn broke whatever was left of the pretty smile, and he covered his mouth to muffle it.
“You are a strange person.”
Oh, he didn’t know the half of it.
”But why?”
He still couldn’t find the reason why he felt this hurting familiarity when he turned his head, his eyes sighting Jongwoon’s sweet smile.
Four.
Nine months, two weeks, and four days.
That was how long he had spent on this assignment. The last two months of those nine months, two weeks, and four days went by surprisingly fast, but it would not have normally. It was only because of Jongwoon.
It was not too difficult for the young man to find out where he lived; it was the next building across the street to the right, of Jongwoon’s own apartment. Jongwoon had taken to bringing him over to his apartment, and without complaint, he had followed.
Jongwoon sang while doing everything. When he dusted his books, he sang, When he cooked, he sang. When he bathed, he sang. Everywhere he sang.
Kyuhyun had never known he could need someone’s voice so badly, but apparently he did, for it was this case with Jongwoon’s voice. It was heavenly, for lack of more and better words.
One day, Jongwoon decided to take him to someplace else. He did his best to ignore the way their fingers fit perfectly into each other, raising up more unpleasant familiar feelings once more. He let himself be led through winding park paths, and soon enough, Jongwoon stopped in his tracks.
Kyuhyun looked around. It was a secluded corner of the park, hidden away by a grove of weeping willows, and white plum blossom trees. Petals like snow were scattered about the grassy ground, and from the open end of the small space, one could see the ocean, blue, and lit aflame by the sun.
”What is this place?” he found himself asking (yes, he had finally decided to open his mouth, and talk to him).
“My secret place…” Kyuhyun nodded, and closed his eyes, seeing nothing but black, as usual, but breathing in the warm balmy air.
From a quick peek out the corner of his eye, Kyuhyun saw that Jongwoon had done the same, and he was clasping another purple anemone blossom in his fingers. And then he began to sing softly to himself, a bittersweet melody.
His head began to hurt, and he held a hand to his temple.
A flash of a soft, gentle smile. Deep dark eyes, and hair like raven’s feathers. An airy, husky beautiful laugh. A lovely voice, singing a bittersweet melody.
He was jerked sharply out of his fragmented visions by the sound of an erratic coughing fit, and he looked up, seeing Jongwoon still standing next to him, hand holding a folded tissue to his mouth. It came away stained with a blot of dark red bigger than the width of two of his fingers.
So this was why he had been assigned to Jongwoon. The realization didn’t soothe the confusing mess of scenes he didn’t remember or understand.
He put a hand to his heart. What was happening to him?
Three.
Eden had been Paradise, at one point in time. But Eden was long gone now; did that mean that Paradise had vanished as well?
Another month had passed, and Kyuhyun, though he refused to admit it, had become attached to Jongwoon. But of course, he never touched him. It was against what was allowed for someone of his job.
Jongwoon never seemed to be offended by it; he would smile, softly, every time they met. When he thought Kyuhyun wouldn’t notice, he would rest his head lightly on his shoulder. But Kyuhyun noticed; he just chose not to say anything.
“You were in my dream last night.” he told him, and Kyuhyun had merely raised an eyebrow. Jongwoon just smiled, and continued talking as Kyuhyun closed his eyes, listening intently.
“We were in a blank white place…nothing but white everywhere. Even my clothes were white.” he said, using his delicate hands to gesture at his clothes, “And then I saw you. You looked just like you do now.”
Kyuhyun had opened his eyes again, his gaze on Jongwoon, who kept talking.
“And you held out your hand to me.” the young man looked up at Kyuhyun. He didn’t need to know what the young man was going to say next; he already knew.
“And I said to you...” he said, ”We’ll go together.”
He turned to look at Jongwoon, his expression waiting for a confirmation. Jongwoon looked surprised, but he smiled softly, looking at his hands with a faint glow to his cheeks.
“Yes, that’s what you said.”
Kyuhyun sighed, the sound heavy. His hand reached for Jongwoon’s smaller hand, entwining their fingers.
“Yes…we’ll go together into Paradise.” He murmured, his face expressionless, but his gaze melancholy.
Neither he nor Jongwoon had much time left.
Two.
He was dying. But Kyuhyun had already known that.
After all, what was his assignment for then? His job was not to save lives, his job was to end them.
He was sitting in Jongwoon’s room, by his bed. The young man was asleep, his hair mussed and expression untroubled. The trouble was placed by his bed, a silk kerchief stained an aged crimson with blood.
He looked down at the delicate fingers clasped in his own, the digits suddenly looking far more frail. He brought them to his lips gently, kissing the knuckles.
Another twisting clench in his chest followed it, and he clutched at his heart, his other hand grabbing onto the nearby curtains with a force hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
This time the vision he saw wasn’t fragmented; it was a whole picture, faded at the edges but whole.
A young man with baby-dimple cheeks, hair like raven’s feathers. Pale, lightly-tanned skin, lips with a prominent cupid’s bow. Beautiful dark eyes like the moon, and a smile like the sun. A laugh like the stars, a voice that brought the heavens to shame, and dressed in robes of silk brocade.
“Jongwoon…” he gasped, his expression surprised. When the vision left him, he put his face to his hands, suddenly tired. Jongwoon didn’t stir; he hadn’t been awakened by his racket.
”He looks just like you.”
The young man from his memories…was it Jongwoon? He didn’t know for sure.
One.
Jongwoon lay in his arms, his eyes closed, and his fingers holding his gently. Kyuhyun leaned against the leaning willow tree of the secret grove, his eyes closed as he took in a breath of the ocean.
With that one breath, he suddenly found himself frozen, and they were suddenly in a stark blank white space.
Jongwoon lay in his arms, and he didn’t seem to have noticed. It was only moments later, that Kyuhyun realized that the young man could not see what he was seeing.
The rustle of cloth alerted him to the presence of another. It was another familiar. Yoochun.
His face remained expressionless, glassed over. Seeing the change, Yoochun frowned. His frown only grew when he saw Jongwoon, quite possibly asleep.
“What are you doing? Do you realize how long you have been gone? And the consequences?”
“11 months and 28 days. The consequences don’t matter to me.” He replied, raising a hand to brush the hair away from his eyes.
“What do you mean, “The consequences don’t matter”? Damn it, Kyuhyun, you could be killed if they find out that you’ve even talked to a human, much less touched them like this!”
Yoochun’s eyes softened sadly when he finally had a better look at Jongwoon’s face. “He looks…just like him..”
Kyuhyun averted his gaze to Jongwoon once more. In his hands was another purple anemone.
“You’ve…fallen for him.” He didn’t say anything to Yoochun’s statement.
“Kyuhyun..you do realize… sooner or later.. he will only get worse, the longer you put off his death. It’s better to end it…before he truly suffers.”
Kyuhyun put a hand to Jongwoon’s cheek, the gesture quietly affectionate.
“I know.”
Zero.
”I love you…”
Those were Jongwoon’s last words, before he fell asleep for eternity, with his fingers clasped with Kyuhyun’s.
It had been a simple thing, to reach into his heart, and grasp the glowing spirit, holding it in his hands. And after he had done it, he had closed his hands around it, and held his hand to his lips.
His hands closed completely around the shining soul, and it crushed in his hands, floating out of his hands skyward in beautiful white threads, and sparkles like newborn stars.
And he closed his eyes, taking in the breath of the ocean as he heard Jongwoon’s voice singing past his ears, with a voice that brought the heavens to shame.
Before his eyes, there was a last and final vision. Him as a happier person, a smile on his lips and his eyes bright as he chased a young man around a willow tree, the both of them clad in silk brocade robes with colours vibrant as the sun shining on them. Warm hands clasped, and they both fell, laughing.
Their lips met with a warm feeling like damp silk. He put his fingers to his lips as though he were trying to remember the taste of the moon and the stars on them.
”Everything has come back to me…the true love..”
And he cried, with a wetness to his cheeks that felt like rain.