iss 2011: for vocaris
To: vocaris
From: Your Secret Santa
Title:這個世界裝滿了明晰的心。 (this world is filled with lucid hearts.)
Pairing/Focus: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Rating: PG
Word count: 3648
Summary: Sungyeol sees things that he isn’t supposed to see. Myungsoo isn’t what he seems to be.
The digits are bright, neon lights strong against the dark background and Sungyeol casts anxious glances at his watch. It’s five minutes to five and he feels the strong beats against his chest. His fingers are hovering over his phone, he turns back when he hears the familiar chime resonate in the café and he heaves a sigh of relief when a figure enters the shop.
“What’s up?” The figure settles in the seat next to him, getting a menu promptly shoved in front of him and he starts to flip through the pages. He looks up from the thin book and their eyes meet. Sungyeol sees something more than ash gray and he tries not to choke when images form themselves in his head.
“Nothing,” Sungyeol whispers and he tries to rid the images. The images are sprayed red, blood everywhere and when he sees the digits on his clock change to a “12:00”, he lets out another sigh of relief. He knows, for sure, there’s going to be no crimson and there’s no white that covers his body later. He cracks a smile, pouting slightly. “Just wanted to have lunch with you, Woohyun. Is that too much for me to ask, for?”
“Of course not!” Woohyun replies, eyes curving into crescents and he waves a waitress over. The female waitress wastes no time in rushing over and Woohyun offers her a wink. “I’d like to have a Caramel Macchiato and a Blueberry Cheesecake please. Sungyeol, you?”
Sungyeol blinks, eyes meeting Woohyun’s for a while before he blinks again and, “Oh. I’d have an Americano and a Devils’ Food Cake, please. Thanks.”
Menus are placed gently into the waitress’ arms and the waitress leaves their table, a smile offered in Woohyun’s direction when she turns back and Sungyeol tries not to meet eyes with her. “So, how’s life?” Woohyun offers to start the conversation and Sungyeol only smiles and then, the cups of coffee appear next to them together with plates. Sungyeol sees vehicles speeding from the corner of his eyes, flashes of monochrome and he turns back to look at Woohyun. He is thankful.
(There’s someone with the same eyes, lips, nose, features staring back at him. Sungyeol raises his hand up, feeling the coldness of the glazed silver object and the figure in the mirror does the same, only that it’s laterally inverted. His eyes trace his arms, to his fingers and his eyes eventually rest on the same pair of eyes and he stares deep into them.
He wished that images could surface in his mind; he wanted to see his own death.
Sungyeol wants to die, he wants death to be his companion, because he doesn’t think that he can withstand labels of ‘you’re a freak’ anymore, when all he wants to do is help.)
Shelves lined with nothing but books greet Sungyeol’s eyes as he enters the bookshop, fingers over the spine of books and picking several titles that catch his eye out. There’s a sudden bump and he shoots his head backwards and he meets eyes with a stranger, he sees his own face reflected in those black eyes. He braces himself for unwanted images in his head, extremely surprised when there’s none and he gasps.
“You alright?” The man in front of him asks, looking up at him as he waves his palm in front of Sungyeol. Sungyeol blinks, he feels saliva travel down his throat, he swallows and then nods. The man nods back at him and starts to walk away, smoothing wrinkles out of his bright blue checkered uniform and Sungyeol stares at his retreating figure.
He hadn’t seen how that man was supposed to die, so his feet makes the choice for him and he’s chasing after the man and his palm lands on bony shoulders. “Hey, could I get your name?”
The man turns back, eyes sparkling in mischief and there’s a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Why?”
And something catches Sungyeol’s eyes, silver bouncing off the lights of the bookstore and he reads off the male’s nametag mentally. Kim Myungsoo. “Nothing,” and Sungyeol proceeds to leave the bookstore.
Sungyeol decides that he would visit the local bookstore more often now that he’s realized the existence of a certain man who works there and has a smirk that is too beautiful in Sungyeol’s eyes. He sips on the cup of hot coffee, tongue scalding as he watched the man shelve books into shelves and he tries not to let the bile build up in his throat when someone, a woman, looks at him, he looks back and he sees images at the back of his head again.
Almost immediately, he runs after her and he pulls her back before she slips on a banana peel and falls off the escalator. There’s a look of pure shock on her face as he starts to walk away with much haste and Sungyeol thinks it might have been better if he didn’t see the banana peel on the ground from the corner of his eyes.
He misses the look on the boy-who-works-at-the-bookshop’s face, lips pursed and shoving the broom at his co-worker’s chest.
It’s a trip down to meet his childhood friend, Hoya at the beach and Sungyeol doesn’t remember when the last time that he’s been to the beach was. It had been strange, receiving a sudden phone call from Hoya and he hears something along the lines ‘Hey Yeol, want to come down to the beach? We haven’t met in a while and the sea’s really nice this summer!’ over the loud background of the waves and people screaming.
He doesn’t know what makes him accept Hoya’s offer, seeing that the beach would be overcrowded and there’d be so many people that would meet his eyes and too many times he’d be labeled freak and act hero again. He stares at the blue skies, azure ocean and golden sand and maybe, he thinks, he needs the tranquility of the beach to relax his mind.
He tugs on his black short-sleeved shirt before making his way down the road from the bus stop, heading to the spot where he agreed to meet Hoya. He only takes a few steps when he feels himself getting pulled into a headlock and he’s greeted with a smiling Hoya. Hoya is different from the last time Sungyeol has seen him but Sungyeol knows it’s still him.
“Yo!” Hoya says and Sungyeol smiles at him.
“Hello,” he whispers, trying to get himself out of the headlock. Hoya laughs, it’s a cheery sound and swings his arm over Sungyeol’s shoulders (though the latter’s taller) and he directs him down the street.
They meet eyes unconsciously and Sungyeol tries not to flinch when he sees a huge wave rise from the ocean and threaten to engulf whoever was on the blue liquid. Sungyeol breaks away from the gaze, looking at the ocean and he’s suddenly more scared than ever.
(The two of them miss a figure trailing after them from behind.)
Sungyeol stays longer than expected over at Hoya’s beach house. It’s Day 5 and the Sun is shining down, brighter than ever. There’s a weary feeling that Sungyeol feels growing in his heart and he feels his premonition coming true. He doesn’t want it to happen. He doesn’t know in exact when it’d happen.
“Hey, Yeol! Let’s go surfing today! The ocean looks really good,” Hoya shouts from the living area and before Sungyeol knows, he’s dragged out of his room and out to the sandy beach. Hoya aligns his hand to his eyebrows, peering at the ocean with a satisfied smile before grabbing his surfboard. He pauses by Sungyeol, staring at the latter who’s just sitting on the picnic mat and refusing to bulge.
“You sure you don’t want to go? It’s not every day that we get such good waves,” Hoya says. “It’s like, beckoning you to come, Yeol.”
Sungyeol shakes his head and pulls at Hoya’s hand just before he’s about to leave. “I have a bad feeling about it.”
Hoya raises an eyebrow, shrugs and he settles on the empty seat that’s next to Sungyeol. “Fine. It’ll be boring if I were to surf alone, anyway.”
Minutes pass and a wave starts to grow, only to grow bigger and bigger and bigger and Hoya’s eyes widen. The wave is too big and it engulfs, it engulfs whoever was on their surfboards and it becomes an abyss for the people who had been surfing.
“Oh my god, Sungyeol.” Hoya’s face is pale.
Sungyeol feels a tap on his shoulder and when he turns around, he meets face-to-face with a familiar boy, the boy at the bookstore and he gets tugged away forcefully. Hoya gulps and his eyes move from looking at Sungyeol to back at the ocean and back at Sungyeol again.
“You shouldn’t go around messing with peoples’ fate,” the male says, once they’ve reached a relatively dark corner. His voice is laced with hate, disgust and anger and Sungyeol blinks at him.
“What?”
“You heard me. I said, you shouldn’t go around messing with peoples’ fate,” he seethes. “I know you can see how people die and you want to rescue them. But, some people, they are meant to die. You shouldn’t interfere in their death.”
Sungyeol feels anger rising in his body and he glares at the boy. “Who are you to tell me what I should do? It’s a human’s life. Any human wants to live, so what if it were against his own fate if he died later!”
With a final glare, Sungyeol stomps away and Myungsoo mumbles under his breath, “There are many things that you don’t know about death.”
After that encounter, Myungsoo follows Sungyeol everywhere they go. Sungyeol would have paid a visit to the police station but while he had been on the way, Myungsoo had stopped him from doing so (staring at him and words spewing out of his mouth) and Sungyeol knew better than to attempt doing so again.
“Can you stop following me?” Sungyeol questions one day, turning back and glaring at Myungsoo, who doesn’t reply. Sungyeol rolls his eyes, turns back to the front.
“Fine, let me continue talking to myself.”
The familiar carols can be heard, blasting on the streets of Seoul and Sungyeol looks at his watch, anxious. Only two more minutes and the annual after 8pm sale would start and it’s Sungyeol’s only chance to get all the gifts he has to buy for his relatives (his job as a salesperson in the local departmental store didn’t earn him much).
Naturally to say, it is horribly crowded and people are pushing past each other, wanting to get a better spot to get the items they want. Sungyeol turns back slightly and it happens that the second hand hits 8 and people are pushing to enter the store and Myungsoo gets pushed as well and…
Crash!
His eyes slam shut as he could feel that he’s pinning someone down with his weight. He could hear gasps coming from her surroundings and then, Sungyeol could feel it. His lips are on something. On instinct, he shoots up, shoving the male.
It takes a while for Sungyeol to process what had just happened. Until a few seconds ago, he was pinning Kim Myungsoo down to the floor and he touches his lip. It feels slightly swollen.
He feels his ears turn red, his cheeks grow hot and suddenly, the cold winter air is furious and warm and Myungsoo glares at him. Myungsoo rubs at his lips and he shoves Sungyeol off him. “Get off me.”
The days that follow are an awkward affair.
Every time, Sungyeol meets eyes with Myungsoo, he looks away, almost immediately and any passerby could see the tips of Sungyeol’s ears grow red and Myungsoo only stares back at Sungyeol nonchalantly, gaze never failing to grow weaker.
Every time, Sungyeol accidentally has contact with Myungsoo, he flinches and runs away to somewhere that is Kim Myungsoo-free and Myungsoo only shrugs, and occassionally, rolls his eyes.
Every time Sungyeol has dinner with Myungsoo, he tries, he tries, not to look at Myungsoo’s mouth.
Soon, December 21st arrives.
It’s a date that Sungyeol has permanently grown to hate, to avoid and Lee Sungyeol knows he’d do anything possible to avoid the memories that would come back to haunt, bite, laugh at him on this particular day.
So, he packs enough clothes in a backpack, with enough food inside as well and tells Myungsoo, “I’m going to hike. You’re coming with me, right?”
They reach the top of the hill when the Sun sets and Myungsoo starts to set up a tent and Sungyeol puts his arms around his knees, chin resting on top of them. He lets the tears flow down his cheeks without any restraint and Myungsoo raises a single brow, confused.
“What’s wrong?” Myungsoo asks, after setting up the tent and settling himself next to Sungyeol on the tree trunk.
“Nothing much. It’s just that, today’s the death anniversary of my parents. You know, I can see the deaths of people, right? I saw the death of my parents, I knew that they were going to die, but I didn’t stop their deaths. I only cared about my own self then. We lived in Gyeonggi then and they were going for a wedding dinner in Seoul. I foresaw the car crashing on the way there but I was young, I didn’t know what the vision meant,” Sungyeol paused for a moment, catching his breath and wiping at his already red eyes, and Myungsoo just stares back at him.
There is something in Myungsoo’s eyes that speak but Sungyeol doesn’t see it.
“On the day that we were supposed to go to the wedding dinner, I feigned severe stomachaches and no matter what, I stubbornly insisted that I didn’t want to go to the wedding dinner. My parents eventually relented to me staying at home with my Grandma and they went off to the wedding dinner. Around two hours later, our house phone rang and it was from the hospital. My parents had died.”
“I could have done something, I could have insisted that they stay at home and not go for the wedding dinner but I didn’t. Even if I didn’t see their deaths right in front of my eyes, I foresaw their death. But I didn’t do anything.”
Sungyeol stares at his hands, the tears forming dampened spots on his palms and Myungsoo extends his arm, covering the taller boy’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He rubs unintelligible figures on Sungyeol’s arms as Sungyeol cried, the loud wheezing sounds echoing.
They remain like this until the irregular heaving of Sungyeol’s chest starts to calm down and Sungyeol relaxes. It is now that the stars have started to surface, dotting the dark blue night sky and the air that brushes against their cheeks is stronger, fiercer and pierces.
Myungsoo doesn’t know what overcomes him but his eyes start to dilate and he inches closer to Sungyeol and he presses his lips to the latter.
(Both of them miss the shooting star that flies past the sky.)
They pass by a stream on their way down, pinkies linking and Sungyeol insists that they stop for a bite and that his stomach’s growling. Myungsoo nods and starts to untie his shoelaces, rolling up his pants and lets the ice cold water touch his bare skin.
Sungyeol kicks at the water happily, biting into the bagel that he brought along. Myungsoo reaches into Sungyeol’s bag, grabbing a water bottle and downing the water in seconds. Sungyeol looks up at Myungsoo, large eyes shining.
“So, tell me about yourself!”
Myungsoo points to himself. “Me?”
“Yeah, is there anyone else here?”
“I don’t have anything to say about myself.”
“It can’t be!” Sungyeol shoves at Myungsoo slightly. “Everyone has something to say about themselves, you can tell me about your past.”
“I don’t have anything interesting to say.”
Sungyeol’s lower lip starts to jut out, cheeks puffing up with air and a pout unconsciously forming. He looks down at the water and he decides to step on Myungsoo’s foot. “You’re just being petty!”
“I’m not,” Myungsoo steps on Sungyeol’s foot in return.
“Yes, you are!” A step on Myungsoo’s foot.
“I’m not.” A step on Sungyeol’s foot.
“Yes!” A harsher step on Myungsoo’s foot that lasts for a very long time.
“You’re being childish.”
Boxing Day comes after a tiring Christmas, the large red ‘26’ has furious circles around it and Sungyeol jumps onto Myungsoo’s back, laughter ringing loudly in the house.
“It’s Boxing Day! Wake up!” Sungyeol sings and Myungsoo groans, rubbing at his eyes. “Time to open presents~”
Myungsoo rolls his eyes, forcing his tired body out of bed and he wonders where Sungyeol gets the energy from to jump out of bed and drag him out. Sungyeol smiles at Myungsoo when he reaches the lonely Christmas tree: There is only two presents underneath.
“Here! My present for you~” Sungyeol throws a box at Myungsoo and Myungsoo catches it with no ease as Sungyeol beams and he starts opening Myungsoo’s present without permission.
He squeals when he sees a couple ring inside and he immediately lunges to hug Myungsoo and makes Myungsoo wear the ring for him. Myungsoo laughs at Sungyeol’s reaction and he kisses Sungyeol’s cheek and he whispers, “Did you notice the engravings on the underside of the ring?”
Sungyeol blinks and he shakes his head, grabbing Myungsoo’s ring and flipping it over. MxS and there is a lemniscate next to the initials. He can barely contain the happiness he feels and he kisses Myungsoo back on the lips and grabs Myungsoo’s hand, pulling the ring over a single finger.
Sungyeol settles on Myungsoo’s lap as Myungsoo fingers through the childish Doolly wrapper (a side glance to Sungyeol) and he opens the box underneath to find sheets of white paper and two pens.
“What’s this supposed to be?”
Sungyeol winks, taking the box from Myungsoo’s hands and he uncaps the pen, writing words on the white sheet. The words are invisible as Myungsoo blinks and Sungyeol’s hand fists into his jean pocket and he takes out a plastic stick with a LED light at the top. He presses on a button and the light shines, forming words on the white paper.
Merry Christmas!
Myungsoo doesn’t know what possesses him to speak, to nudge on Sungyeol’s shoulder while he’s playing the latest version of Final Fantasy and insists that Sungyeol stop playing and sit down in front of him, hands on top of Sungyeol’s own.
He knows that this revelation comes with a price and after he has said the words to Sungyeol, he would be shipped back to where he’s meant to be at.
“I’ve got something to say,” Myungsoo starts off and there’s a look in Sungyeol’s eye that allows him to move on, to carry on.
“You can see peoples’ death because you’re the son of the ruler of the Underworld. Because you are his son, you can see it and the reason why you can’t see my death, is because I’m already dead. I’m a Death God; my job is to transport the souls of the dead people properly to the Underworld. That’s why, I was furious when you stopped Hoya’s death. Hoya was meant to die so that he could become a Death God as well, it had been planned out until you stopped his death.”
“…What?”
There is nothing but shock and confusion and disbelief in Sungyeol’s eyes. Myungsoo suddenly feels a pang in his heart, like as if he shouldn’t have decided to tell Sungyeol about these news and the rumbling of thunder outside the house suddenly feels extremely ominous.
“Your parents aren’t dead. They’re immortal and to let people not know that there are immortals, they had to feign their own deaths. They’re living well in the Underworld.”
“So, you’re telling me that… My parents aren’t dead, they are the Gods of the Underworld and I’m their… son?”
Myungsoo nods and Sungyeol shoves Myungsoo’s hands off his own palms and he stands up.
“You must be fucking kidding me. Am I that big a fool that you think I’d believe something like this?!” Rage thickens Sungyeol’s voice and he dashes out of the house, door closing after him with a loud slam.
Myungsoo sighs and he smacks his forehead with his palm and he sighs before he rushes out of the house as well, and shouts, “Sungyeol!”
“Hey Woohyun, can I sleep over at your place for the night?”
Sungyeol wakes up the next morning, picking up the newspaper from underneath Woohyun’s main door to his apartment and sips on his coffee in one hand and heads to the sofa. He puts the cup on the table, leaning back on the sofa and he started to flip through the papers when an article catches his attention and his eyes widen.
Male body found, washed up on shore.
He doesn’t know why (Sungyeol isn’t the type to read about death-related articles from the papers), but he reads the article and he realizes that the person who died is none other than Lee Howon.
Hoya.
From the corner of his eye, he notices a single white sheet getting slid from underneath door. He sits up from the couch, heading towards the door again and he instantly recognizes the neat handwriting on the envelope and he opens the letter (almost too fast, almost ripping the fragile material.)
There is nothing but white on the paper and Sungyeol’s hand retreats back to his jean pocket and the LED light shines and he sees.
Dear Sungyeol,
I’m going back.
I’m sorry that I loved you.
Goodbye.
From: Your Secret Santa
Title:這個世界裝滿了明晰的心。 (this world is filled with lucid hearts.)
Pairing/Focus: Myungsoo/Sungyeol
Rating: PG
Word count: 3648
Summary: Sungyeol sees things that he isn’t supposed to see. Myungsoo isn’t what he seems to be.
The digits are bright, neon lights strong against the dark background and Sungyeol casts anxious glances at his watch. It’s five minutes to five and he feels the strong beats against his chest. His fingers are hovering over his phone, he turns back when he hears the familiar chime resonate in the café and he heaves a sigh of relief when a figure enters the shop.
“What’s up?” The figure settles in the seat next to him, getting a menu promptly shoved in front of him and he starts to flip through the pages. He looks up from the thin book and their eyes meet. Sungyeol sees something more than ash gray and he tries not to choke when images form themselves in his head.
“Nothing,” Sungyeol whispers and he tries to rid the images. The images are sprayed red, blood everywhere and when he sees the digits on his clock change to a “12:00”, he lets out another sigh of relief. He knows, for sure, there’s going to be no crimson and there’s no white that covers his body later. He cracks a smile, pouting slightly. “Just wanted to have lunch with you, Woohyun. Is that too much for me to ask, for?”
“Of course not!” Woohyun replies, eyes curving into crescents and he waves a waitress over. The female waitress wastes no time in rushing over and Woohyun offers her a wink. “I’d like to have a Caramel Macchiato and a Blueberry Cheesecake please. Sungyeol, you?”
Sungyeol blinks, eyes meeting Woohyun’s for a while before he blinks again and, “Oh. I’d have an Americano and a Devils’ Food Cake, please. Thanks.”
Menus are placed gently into the waitress’ arms and the waitress leaves their table, a smile offered in Woohyun’s direction when she turns back and Sungyeol tries not to meet eyes with her. “So, how’s life?” Woohyun offers to start the conversation and Sungyeol only smiles and then, the cups of coffee appear next to them together with plates. Sungyeol sees vehicles speeding from the corner of his eyes, flashes of monochrome and he turns back to look at Woohyun. He is thankful.
(There’s someone with the same eyes, lips, nose, features staring back at him. Sungyeol raises his hand up, feeling the coldness of the glazed silver object and the figure in the mirror does the same, only that it’s laterally inverted. His eyes trace his arms, to his fingers and his eyes eventually rest on the same pair of eyes and he stares deep into them.
He wished that images could surface in his mind; he wanted to see his own death.
Sungyeol wants to die, he wants death to be his companion, because he doesn’t think that he can withstand labels of ‘you’re a freak’ anymore, when all he wants to do is help.)
Shelves lined with nothing but books greet Sungyeol’s eyes as he enters the bookshop, fingers over the spine of books and picking several titles that catch his eye out. There’s a sudden bump and he shoots his head backwards and he meets eyes with a stranger, he sees his own face reflected in those black eyes. He braces himself for unwanted images in his head, extremely surprised when there’s none and he gasps.
“You alright?” The man in front of him asks, looking up at him as he waves his palm in front of Sungyeol. Sungyeol blinks, he feels saliva travel down his throat, he swallows and then nods. The man nods back at him and starts to walk away, smoothing wrinkles out of his bright blue checkered uniform and Sungyeol stares at his retreating figure.
He hadn’t seen how that man was supposed to die, so his feet makes the choice for him and he’s chasing after the man and his palm lands on bony shoulders. “Hey, could I get your name?”
The man turns back, eyes sparkling in mischief and there’s a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “Why?”
And something catches Sungyeol’s eyes, silver bouncing off the lights of the bookstore and he reads off the male’s nametag mentally. Kim Myungsoo. “Nothing,” and Sungyeol proceeds to leave the bookstore.
Sungyeol decides that he would visit the local bookstore more often now that he’s realized the existence of a certain man who works there and has a smirk that is too beautiful in Sungyeol’s eyes. He sips on the cup of hot coffee, tongue scalding as he watched the man shelve books into shelves and he tries not to let the bile build up in his throat when someone, a woman, looks at him, he looks back and he sees images at the back of his head again.
Almost immediately, he runs after her and he pulls her back before she slips on a banana peel and falls off the escalator. There’s a look of pure shock on her face as he starts to walk away with much haste and Sungyeol thinks it might have been better if he didn’t see the banana peel on the ground from the corner of his eyes.
He misses the look on the boy-who-works-at-the-bookshop’s face, lips pursed and shoving the broom at his co-worker’s chest.
It’s a trip down to meet his childhood friend, Hoya at the beach and Sungyeol doesn’t remember when the last time that he’s been to the beach was. It had been strange, receiving a sudden phone call from Hoya and he hears something along the lines ‘Hey Yeol, want to come down to the beach? We haven’t met in a while and the sea’s really nice this summer!’ over the loud background of the waves and people screaming.
He doesn’t know what makes him accept Hoya’s offer, seeing that the beach would be overcrowded and there’d be so many people that would meet his eyes and too many times he’d be labeled freak and act hero again. He stares at the blue skies, azure ocean and golden sand and maybe, he thinks, he needs the tranquility of the beach to relax his mind.
He tugs on his black short-sleeved shirt before making his way down the road from the bus stop, heading to the spot where he agreed to meet Hoya. He only takes a few steps when he feels himself getting pulled into a headlock and he’s greeted with a smiling Hoya. Hoya is different from the last time Sungyeol has seen him but Sungyeol knows it’s still him.
“Yo!” Hoya says and Sungyeol smiles at him.
“Hello,” he whispers, trying to get himself out of the headlock. Hoya laughs, it’s a cheery sound and swings his arm over Sungyeol’s shoulders (though the latter’s taller) and he directs him down the street.
They meet eyes unconsciously and Sungyeol tries not to flinch when he sees a huge wave rise from the ocean and threaten to engulf whoever was on the blue liquid. Sungyeol breaks away from the gaze, looking at the ocean and he’s suddenly more scared than ever.
(The two of them miss a figure trailing after them from behind.)
Sungyeol stays longer than expected over at Hoya’s beach house. It’s Day 5 and the Sun is shining down, brighter than ever. There’s a weary feeling that Sungyeol feels growing in his heart and he feels his premonition coming true. He doesn’t want it to happen. He doesn’t know in exact when it’d happen.
“Hey, Yeol! Let’s go surfing today! The ocean looks really good,” Hoya shouts from the living area and before Sungyeol knows, he’s dragged out of his room and out to the sandy beach. Hoya aligns his hand to his eyebrows, peering at the ocean with a satisfied smile before grabbing his surfboard. He pauses by Sungyeol, staring at the latter who’s just sitting on the picnic mat and refusing to bulge.
“You sure you don’t want to go? It’s not every day that we get such good waves,” Hoya says. “It’s like, beckoning you to come, Yeol.”
Sungyeol shakes his head and pulls at Hoya’s hand just before he’s about to leave. “I have a bad feeling about it.”
Hoya raises an eyebrow, shrugs and he settles on the empty seat that’s next to Sungyeol. “Fine. It’ll be boring if I were to surf alone, anyway.”
Minutes pass and a wave starts to grow, only to grow bigger and bigger and bigger and Hoya’s eyes widen. The wave is too big and it engulfs, it engulfs whoever was on their surfboards and it becomes an abyss for the people who had been surfing.
“Oh my god, Sungyeol.” Hoya’s face is pale.
Sungyeol feels a tap on his shoulder and when he turns around, he meets face-to-face with a familiar boy, the boy at the bookstore and he gets tugged away forcefully. Hoya gulps and his eyes move from looking at Sungyeol to back at the ocean and back at Sungyeol again.
“You shouldn’t go around messing with peoples’ fate,” the male says, once they’ve reached a relatively dark corner. His voice is laced with hate, disgust and anger and Sungyeol blinks at him.
“What?”
“You heard me. I said, you shouldn’t go around messing with peoples’ fate,” he seethes. “I know you can see how people die and you want to rescue them. But, some people, they are meant to die. You shouldn’t interfere in their death.”
Sungyeol feels anger rising in his body and he glares at the boy. “Who are you to tell me what I should do? It’s a human’s life. Any human wants to live, so what if it were against his own fate if he died later!”
With a final glare, Sungyeol stomps away and Myungsoo mumbles under his breath, “There are many things that you don’t know about death.”
After that encounter, Myungsoo follows Sungyeol everywhere they go. Sungyeol would have paid a visit to the police station but while he had been on the way, Myungsoo had stopped him from doing so (staring at him and words spewing out of his mouth) and Sungyeol knew better than to attempt doing so again.
“Can you stop following me?” Sungyeol questions one day, turning back and glaring at Myungsoo, who doesn’t reply. Sungyeol rolls his eyes, turns back to the front.
“Fine, let me continue talking to myself.”
The familiar carols can be heard, blasting on the streets of Seoul and Sungyeol looks at his watch, anxious. Only two more minutes and the annual after 8pm sale would start and it’s Sungyeol’s only chance to get all the gifts he has to buy for his relatives (his job as a salesperson in the local departmental store didn’t earn him much).
Naturally to say, it is horribly crowded and people are pushing past each other, wanting to get a better spot to get the items they want. Sungyeol turns back slightly and it happens that the second hand hits 8 and people are pushing to enter the store and Myungsoo gets pushed as well and…
Crash!
His eyes slam shut as he could feel that he’s pinning someone down with his weight. He could hear gasps coming from her surroundings and then, Sungyeol could feel it. His lips are on something. On instinct, he shoots up, shoving the male.
It takes a while for Sungyeol to process what had just happened. Until a few seconds ago, he was pinning Kim Myungsoo down to the floor and he touches his lip. It feels slightly swollen.
He feels his ears turn red, his cheeks grow hot and suddenly, the cold winter air is furious and warm and Myungsoo glares at him. Myungsoo rubs at his lips and he shoves Sungyeol off him. “Get off me.”
The days that follow are an awkward affair.
Every time, Sungyeol meets eyes with Myungsoo, he looks away, almost immediately and any passerby could see the tips of Sungyeol’s ears grow red and Myungsoo only stares back at Sungyeol nonchalantly, gaze never failing to grow weaker.
Every time, Sungyeol accidentally has contact with Myungsoo, he flinches and runs away to somewhere that is Kim Myungsoo-free and Myungsoo only shrugs, and occassionally, rolls his eyes.
Every time Sungyeol has dinner with Myungsoo, he tries, he tries, not to look at Myungsoo’s mouth.
Soon, December 21st arrives.
It’s a date that Sungyeol has permanently grown to hate, to avoid and Lee Sungyeol knows he’d do anything possible to avoid the memories that would come back to haunt, bite, laugh at him on this particular day.
So, he packs enough clothes in a backpack, with enough food inside as well and tells Myungsoo, “I’m going to hike. You’re coming with me, right?”
They reach the top of the hill when the Sun sets and Myungsoo starts to set up a tent and Sungyeol puts his arms around his knees, chin resting on top of them. He lets the tears flow down his cheeks without any restraint and Myungsoo raises a single brow, confused.
“What’s wrong?” Myungsoo asks, after setting up the tent and settling himself next to Sungyeol on the tree trunk.
“Nothing much. It’s just that, today’s the death anniversary of my parents. You know, I can see the deaths of people, right? I saw the death of my parents, I knew that they were going to die, but I didn’t stop their deaths. I only cared about my own self then. We lived in Gyeonggi then and they were going for a wedding dinner in Seoul. I foresaw the car crashing on the way there but I was young, I didn’t know what the vision meant,” Sungyeol paused for a moment, catching his breath and wiping at his already red eyes, and Myungsoo just stares back at him.
There is something in Myungsoo’s eyes that speak but Sungyeol doesn’t see it.
“On the day that we were supposed to go to the wedding dinner, I feigned severe stomachaches and no matter what, I stubbornly insisted that I didn’t want to go to the wedding dinner. My parents eventually relented to me staying at home with my Grandma and they went off to the wedding dinner. Around two hours later, our house phone rang and it was from the hospital. My parents had died.”
“I could have done something, I could have insisted that they stay at home and not go for the wedding dinner but I didn’t. Even if I didn’t see their deaths right in front of my eyes, I foresaw their death. But I didn’t do anything.”
Sungyeol stares at his hands, the tears forming dampened spots on his palms and Myungsoo extends his arm, covering the taller boy’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He rubs unintelligible figures on Sungyeol’s arms as Sungyeol cried, the loud wheezing sounds echoing.
They remain like this until the irregular heaving of Sungyeol’s chest starts to calm down and Sungyeol relaxes. It is now that the stars have started to surface, dotting the dark blue night sky and the air that brushes against their cheeks is stronger, fiercer and pierces.
Myungsoo doesn’t know what overcomes him but his eyes start to dilate and he inches closer to Sungyeol and he presses his lips to the latter.
(Both of them miss the shooting star that flies past the sky.)
They pass by a stream on their way down, pinkies linking and Sungyeol insists that they stop for a bite and that his stomach’s growling. Myungsoo nods and starts to untie his shoelaces, rolling up his pants and lets the ice cold water touch his bare skin.
Sungyeol kicks at the water happily, biting into the bagel that he brought along. Myungsoo reaches into Sungyeol’s bag, grabbing a water bottle and downing the water in seconds. Sungyeol looks up at Myungsoo, large eyes shining.
“So, tell me about yourself!”
Myungsoo points to himself. “Me?”
“Yeah, is there anyone else here?”
“I don’t have anything to say about myself.”
“It can’t be!” Sungyeol shoves at Myungsoo slightly. “Everyone has something to say about themselves, you can tell me about your past.”
“I don’t have anything interesting to say.”
Sungyeol’s lower lip starts to jut out, cheeks puffing up with air and a pout unconsciously forming. He looks down at the water and he decides to step on Myungsoo’s foot. “You’re just being petty!”
“I’m not,” Myungsoo steps on Sungyeol’s foot in return.
“Yes, you are!” A step on Myungsoo’s foot.
“I’m not.” A step on Sungyeol’s foot.
“Yes!” A harsher step on Myungsoo’s foot that lasts for a very long time.
“You’re being childish.”
Boxing Day comes after a tiring Christmas, the large red ‘26’ has furious circles around it and Sungyeol jumps onto Myungsoo’s back, laughter ringing loudly in the house.
“It’s Boxing Day! Wake up!” Sungyeol sings and Myungsoo groans, rubbing at his eyes. “Time to open presents~”
Myungsoo rolls his eyes, forcing his tired body out of bed and he wonders where Sungyeol gets the energy from to jump out of bed and drag him out. Sungyeol smiles at Myungsoo when he reaches the lonely Christmas tree: There is only two presents underneath.
“Here! My present for you~” Sungyeol throws a box at Myungsoo and Myungsoo catches it with no ease as Sungyeol beams and he starts opening Myungsoo’s present without permission.
He squeals when he sees a couple ring inside and he immediately lunges to hug Myungsoo and makes Myungsoo wear the ring for him. Myungsoo laughs at Sungyeol’s reaction and he kisses Sungyeol’s cheek and he whispers, “Did you notice the engravings on the underside of the ring?”
Sungyeol blinks and he shakes his head, grabbing Myungsoo’s ring and flipping it over. MxS and there is a lemniscate next to the initials. He can barely contain the happiness he feels and he kisses Myungsoo back on the lips and grabs Myungsoo’s hand, pulling the ring over a single finger.
Sungyeol settles on Myungsoo’s lap as Myungsoo fingers through the childish Doolly wrapper (a side glance to Sungyeol) and he opens the box underneath to find sheets of white paper and two pens.
“What’s this supposed to be?”
Sungyeol winks, taking the box from Myungsoo’s hands and he uncaps the pen, writing words on the white sheet. The words are invisible as Myungsoo blinks and Sungyeol’s hand fists into his jean pocket and he takes out a plastic stick with a LED light at the top. He presses on a button and the light shines, forming words on the white paper.
Merry Christmas!
Myungsoo doesn’t know what possesses him to speak, to nudge on Sungyeol’s shoulder while he’s playing the latest version of Final Fantasy and insists that Sungyeol stop playing and sit down in front of him, hands on top of Sungyeol’s own.
He knows that this revelation comes with a price and after he has said the words to Sungyeol, he would be shipped back to where he’s meant to be at.
“I’ve got something to say,” Myungsoo starts off and there’s a look in Sungyeol’s eye that allows him to move on, to carry on.
“You can see peoples’ death because you’re the son of the ruler of the Underworld. Because you are his son, you can see it and the reason why you can’t see my death, is because I’m already dead. I’m a Death God; my job is to transport the souls of the dead people properly to the Underworld. That’s why, I was furious when you stopped Hoya’s death. Hoya was meant to die so that he could become a Death God as well, it had been planned out until you stopped his death.”
“…What?”
There is nothing but shock and confusion and disbelief in Sungyeol’s eyes. Myungsoo suddenly feels a pang in his heart, like as if he shouldn’t have decided to tell Sungyeol about these news and the rumbling of thunder outside the house suddenly feels extremely ominous.
“Your parents aren’t dead. They’re immortal and to let people not know that there are immortals, they had to feign their own deaths. They’re living well in the Underworld.”
“So, you’re telling me that… My parents aren’t dead, they are the Gods of the Underworld and I’m their… son?”
Myungsoo nods and Sungyeol shoves Myungsoo’s hands off his own palms and he stands up.
“You must be fucking kidding me. Am I that big a fool that you think I’d believe something like this?!” Rage thickens Sungyeol’s voice and he dashes out of the house, door closing after him with a loud slam.
Myungsoo sighs and he smacks his forehead with his palm and he sighs before he rushes out of the house as well, and shouts, “Sungyeol!”
“Hey Woohyun, can I sleep over at your place for the night?”
Sungyeol wakes up the next morning, picking up the newspaper from underneath Woohyun’s main door to his apartment and sips on his coffee in one hand and heads to the sofa. He puts the cup on the table, leaning back on the sofa and he started to flip through the papers when an article catches his attention and his eyes widen.
Male body found, washed up on shore.
He doesn’t know why (Sungyeol isn’t the type to read about death-related articles from the papers), but he reads the article and he realizes that the person who died is none other than Lee Howon.
Hoya.
From the corner of his eye, he notices a single white sheet getting slid from underneath door. He sits up from the couch, heading towards the door again and he instantly recognizes the neat handwriting on the envelope and he opens the letter (almost too fast, almost ripping the fragile material.)
There is nothing but white on the paper and Sungyeol’s hand retreats back to his jean pocket and the LED light shines and he sees.
Dear Sungyeol,
I’m going back.
I’m sorry that I loved you.
Goodbye.