Pure #61: String Theory [Part 1/2]

[kaisoobiography]

Title: String Theory
Other Pairings: minor Chanbaek and Xiuhan
Rating: PG
Word Count: 11,297
Warnings: Bullying
Summary: The strings radiated from everyone and came in all sorts of colors that meant all sorts of things. Over the years, Kyungsoo has figured out the meanings behind every single one of them. However, one day, he notices a String he has never seen before tied between him and his best friend, Jongin…
Author's Note: Thank you to the person who submitted this prompt! As soon as I saw it, I knew that I REALLY wanted to write it. I love all those red string AUs and I thought this was a really cool and fun idea to play around with. I’m sorry I didn’t include all the colors you had in your prompt ,though T T This is the first fic fest I’ve ever done before, so I really hope you enjoy this story! It came out a lot longer than I had initially anticipated, so I hope it isn’t too boring for y’all to read… Please enjoy and, once again, thank you to the prompt submitter! I hope I did your idea justice!

Kyungsoo didn’t know when first he started seeing them, or if there had ever been a time when he hadn’t seen them.

He just knew that the Strings had always been there.

Kyungsoo shifted his eyes across the playground, watching all the other children run around wildly.

The Strings emerged from everyone. From their heads. From their stomachs. But, they mostly appeared from people’s hands. From people’s bodies, the Strings would attach themselves onto someone else or just float aimlessly in the air.

There was such a great variety of Strings today. He saw a kid gripping onto the jungle gym, a bright green String twirling around in the air from his hand. By the swings, he saw a few violet ones coming from a group of girls that attached to a boy near them who was picking his nose. But, most of all, he saw yellow Strings floating around everywhere.

The Strings came in all sorts of colors. And, within his short eleven years of existence, he discovered that they held all sorts of meanings.

Green for fear.

Blue for sadness.

Purple for disgust.

Yellow for joy.

Some glowed dimly.

Others glowed amazingly bright.

And each of them, Kyungsoo found exceedingly beautiful.

“Hey, freak!”

A harsh shove pushed Kyungsoo to the ground. He lifted himself slowly, wincing slightly due to the rocks digging into his palms. He glanced over his shoulder and, just as he thought, came face to face with four other boys and four burning red Strings.

Red for anger.

Kyungsoo hated the color.

The boys looked down on him, snickering in satisfaction. “What color is my string today, huh?” Their ringleader, Minho, mocked down to him. His red String flowed like blood around the younger’s wrist.

“Brown like your poop.” The younger muttered as he stared hard at the ground in front of him. Kyungsoo heard a ‘tsk’ behind him, and, soon after, was face to dirt once again. He squirmed to pull himself up, but it was futile against the sneaker that pressed down on him.

He craned his neck and glared up spitefully at the bully, who only glared back coldly. The elder’s posse watched in amusement.

“Don't act like you're better than us. We all know that you're just a freak who sees things that don't exist. You're no better than the crazy homeless guy that lives under the bridge.”

The sneaker dug deeper into Kyungsoo’s back. It was getting hard to breath.

The red String felt as if it tightened with every word that was thrown from Minho’s mouth. His hand felt like it was numb.

Kyungsoo continued to squirm.

“You're probably crazy, too. My grandma told me your great-grandpa went to that home for all the crazy old people.”

Kyungsoo squirmed more, trying to block out his words.

“You’re just the same, aren't you? You’re just a crazy little freak who’s gonna end up in there TOO!” Emphasizing the last of his little monologue, Minho slammed his foot into the side of Kyungsoo’s stomach.

The younger saw stars as he curled up in pain. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. He felt bile rise up in his throat. Everything hurt. He heard a groan, which he assumed was his own, but it was quickly blocked out by the ugly snickering of his attacker and his followers.

“Know your place.” Minho sneered, before walking off with his crew in tow.

The bruised boy breathed heavily as he watched them walk away, half relieved that they were gone, half upset that he didn't fight back. Again.

Kyungsoo didn't know why he saw the Strings. And he didn't know why he was the only one.

He just knew that seeing them was a bad thing, apparently.

He remembered when he first realized he saw things no one else could.

“Whatcha drawing there, honey?” Kyungsoo glanced away from his drawing to where his mother crouched in front of him. He happily flashed her a heart-shaped smile before going back to his work.

“I’m drawing the Strings.” He stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it was. At least, to him it was.

The drawing depicted Kyungsoo’s family: his mom, his dad, and Kyungsoo in the middle. They were happily joined together, not by hands like most children drew, but by the colorful lines that the young boy was currently marking onto the page. The bright pink lines ran between the three of them, from mother to father and then both to Kyungsoo. None, however, came from the smallest person on the page.

Bright pink for love.

Mother Do tilted her head to the side as she continued to watch her son diligently color. “‘Strings’?”

“Mhmm. You know, Mama. The Strings that come from people!”

Her brows furrowed and squinted at him. “Honey… Strings don’t come from people.” She breathily laughed out. However, it was cut short when she saw the pouty glare her son sent her way.

“Yes they do. Everyone has one. You do too!” Kyungsoo jutted out one of his little fingers towards his mother’s hand. “You have a brown one right now!”

Mrs. Do looked down at her hand and only found her wedding ring. No strings were there. She focused her gaze back at her son, a countering comment already laying on her lips.

“Kyungsoo, there is no string coming from my hand.”

“Yes there is.” Kyungsoo whispered out. “It’s right here.” He laid a hand on her wrist. His gaze was firmly concentrated on the String that was coming from his mother’s hand.

It was right there, plain to see. The brown String was coming from the base of his mother’s palm, shimmering brightly. Brown for confusion. It was wrapped firmly around his little wrist. He could see it perfectly…

‘Why doesn’t she believe me?’

Suddenly, he saw the String shiver from the base and a nauseating neon green color rippled through the cord until it was completely dyed over. Green. Fear.

He looked up at his mother’s face. Rather than the sparkling and mischievous eyes that his mother usually possessed, all he could find were dark pools full of fear and worry.

Abruptly, his mother rose from her position and walked away, leaving Kyungsoo alone in his room to continue his drawing.

From then on, Kyungsoo’s parents began questioning him about the Strings. How often he saw them. What colors did they come in. What they meant to him. He answered to the best of his ability, even if he did find the constant questions annoying. However, the more detailed an answer he gave them, the more worried his parents’ looks became.

Kyungsoo tried to convince his parents that he was telling the truth, that the Strings really did exist. He even went as far as telling all the neighborhood kids about the Strings.

They didn’t believe him either.

“The Strings are real!” Kyungsoo shouted in annoyance.

The group of older kids watched him unimpressed, with a few of the younger ones watching with mild curiosity behind them.

“If they were real, how come I can’t see them?” Minho, the eldest of the pack, replied dryly.

Kyungsoo sighed frustratedly. “They’re right there! Look! Yours is red because you’re angry you can’t see them.”

Minho glared at the small boy in front of him. “I’m angry because you keep annoying us and asking us to see stuff that doesn’t exist! Stop bothering us with your pretend game. It sucks.”

And with that, the leading boy turned around and the rest of the group began to quickly disperse. Kyungsoo began to panic. 

“Wait!” He reached out and grabbed Minho by the arm, trying his best to hold him in place. “You have to believe me! The Strings are real!”

However, it was all for naught.

“LET GO OF ME FREAK!” The elder threw Kyungsoo to the ground. Kyungsoo sat there, dumbfounded He could faintly hear the retreating footsteps of the others as he sat on the ground.

Completely and utterly alone.

Things finally got better about a year after that, at Kyungsoo’s eighth birthday.

It was the first time Kyungsoo had had so much fun in a long time. His grandparents and Uncle Chanyeol had come down to celebrate the occasion and to visit the local university his uncle would be attending the coming fall. He brought along his friend Baekhyun, too, and the two were busy goofing off and teasing the little birthday boy. His parents had cooked and baked all of his favorite dishes and the family ate happily as they talked with each other. And, best of all, his parents weren’t looking at him with that pitying and worrying gaze for the first time in a while. Kyungsoo was completely content with his small party.

However, it was about to get bigger.

A knock sounded on their front door and his father disappeared from the table to go answer. Kyungsoo snuck behind, his curiosity getting the better of him and also hoped to get away from his uncle and his friend’s pinching hands.

Had one of the neighborhood kids his mother invited decided to come after all?

Kyungsoo peered from behind his father as he opened up the door to reveal two strangers, a mother and a son. Kyungsoo blinked up in confusion as his father asked if they needed help with something.

“Hello, are you Mr. Do?” Kyungsoo’s father nodded. “Hi! I’m Mrs. Kim, the new neighbor down two houses down. We got this invitation from your wife the other day about your son’s birthday party. Are we too late?”

“Oh, not at all! We’re happy to have you over. Please, come on in.” Kyungsoo stepped aside as the new comers walked in. He hung back as he watched his father led the way for the duo towards the dining room where everyone else was. However, he quickly realized the duo was actually just the mother and that her son was nowhere to be found.

He turned around and found the kid standing awkwardly next to the door, still in his sneakers. The two stared at each other then, not really knowing what else to do.

The kid was about as tall as he was, maybe a centimeter or two taller than him. His skin was also a pretty tanned color, just like his mother. His hair was fairly long, having grown over his eyebrows, and was shaggy and a rich dark brown color. His eyes were very pretty as well, while also a bit sleepy looking. All in all, he reminded him of a cute puppy he had seen once while passing by a pet shop’s window. He was just a really pretty kid.

A really pretty kid who was still just awkwardly standing in his doorway and probably waiting for him to take him somewhere.

“Um… Since we don’t have any spare slippers, you can just walk around in your socks. My parents… don't mind… or anything.” The birthday boy muttered clumsily to the boy, who in turn finally moved to remove his shoes.

Once they were off and after another round of deafening silence between them, Kyungsoo suggested they go to his room to find something to play with.

They made their way past the dining room and up the stairs to his playroom where all his toys and games were kept. However, as soon as they walked in, Kyungsoo noticed that on the screen was an episode of Pororo playing. In horror, the boy leapt for the remote to try and turn it off. Pororo was a show that was meant for toddlers, not for 8 year olds…

As Kyungsoo moved to turn off the tv, the other boy’s voice rang out.

“W-wait!” He turned towards the boy and saw a dim yellow string floating from his hand. “I-I like… Pororo.” The boy’s cheeks flared up in crimson as Kyungsoo watched him, utterly shocked. He put the remote down.

“Really?!” He could hardly contain his excitement as the other nodded his head shy, his hair bobbing along prettily with his shake. “Let’s watch it together, then!”

And so, the two spent the whole afternoon marathoning the show while asking each other questions every so often.

Kyungsoo learned a lot about the other that day. For starters, he learned that the kid was named Kim Jongin and he had moved down the street a week ago. He also learned that they had a lot in common. They both loved music and performing, although they were both pretty quiet and awkward people. They agreed that they both felt different when they performed, though, with Kyungsoo in his singing and Jongin with his dancing. They also loved to eat, although Jongin was more partial to chicken than Kyungsoo was.

“What class are you going to be in?” Jongin was going to start class at Kyungsoo’s school the coming Monday, and the other was hoping that they would be placed in the same group. Finally, he would have someone else to talk to and play with.

“I’m gonna be in group 1-B, I think.” The other absentmindedly looked up as he held his chin. Kyungsoo turned towards Jongin, eyebrows furrowed.

“1-B? How old are you?”

“I’ll be seven in two days.” The other (well, younger) answered honestly as he stared back into the big eyes that were trained on him. “How old are you?”

“I’m eight.” The older answered blankly. Jongin’s eyes sparkled as he ‘oo’ed in understanding.

“Does that mean I should call you hyung, hyung?” Jongin shyly gave him a very wide smile, his eyes shrinking and crinkling a bit at the ends.

Kyungsoo’s cheeks burned from the site of such a pretty smile. He bashfully shook his head.

“No, it’s okay. I think I like being called ‘Kyungsoo’ better, Jongin-ssi.”

“Okay… Kyungsoo.” His younger counterpart replied, a thoughtful expression painted on his face. However, it was quickly replaced with deep blush that dusted his cheeks as he looked into the elder’s eyes. “But only if you call me ‘Jongin’, too.”

Kyungsoo slowly nodded, his cheeks set aflame. “Okay… Jongin.”

Kyungsoo smiled fondly at the memory as he walked home from the park. Since then, the two had grown only closer with time. They knew everything and anything about the other. They shared the good and the bad. The personal and the impersonal. Nothing was off limits between them.

Except for Kyungsoo’s Strings.

It wasn’t all too difficult to keep his secret. Jongin wasn’t allowed to go to the park since his mother was very protective of her only son, so the two of them usually hung around one of their homes and never ran into one of Kyungsoo’s bullies. The two of them also went to a different school on the other side of the neighborhood, so no body knew of Kyungsoo’s secret there, either.

And, of course, Kyungsoo never mentioned the Strings to Jongin. Jongin was his only friend and the closest he had ever grown to someone he wasn’t related to. Kyungsoo would give up anything to keep their friendship from harm’s way.

Even if it meant denying this part of himself.

As Kyungsoo finally reached his house, he noticed an all too familiar figure fidgeting outside his home’s gate. He laughed softly to himself, shaking his head lightly at the scene before calling out to his companion.

“Sorry I took so long, but you do know that you could just wait inside, right? My parents wouldn’t mind at all.”

Jongin shyly rubbed the back of his neck and gave his friend a small, apologetic smile.

“I know, but… I’d rather wait for you.”

Kyungsoo felt his face heat up at such endearing (and downright embarrassing) words being uttered from his best friend’s mouth. He immediately pushed the other’s shoulder, softly but strong enough to move the other back.

“Ay, stop right there! You’re aegyo is showing.” Jongin let out a chime of laughter as Kyungsoo led the two past the gate and into his home. Jongin always acted cute, both on accident and on purpose. These days, it was harder to tell which of the two he was doing at any given moment. One thing was for certain, though: he loved getting a blush out of Kyungsoo.

After the two greeted Kyungsoo’s father in the kitchen (while also grabbing a few snacks), they headed up to Kyungsoo’s bedroom to hang around and watch tv. A new episode of Prince of Tennis was coming out that day and Kyungsoo was anxious to see what the next story arc would be centered on.

As Kyungsoo set up their snacks and looked for the remote, Jongin set about getting the bean bag chairs out of Kyungsoo’s closet, like always. He yanked the dark blue bean bag chairs out and moved them to their usual seating place, only to find Kyungsoo still searching for the remote.

“You still can’t find it?” Jongin’s eyebrows furrowed as the question left his mouth. He saw Kyungsoo shake his head in denial.

Jongin dropped to his hands and knees and quickly began searching underneath the other’s bed. There’s wasn’t much down there: a pair of shoes, a long forgotten pencil, a couple of coins, and an old drawing book.

Curiously, Jongin took out the drawing book. He didn’t know Kyungsoo could draw? He flipped it open and found a crudely drawn family picture of three. Somewhere in the background he heard Kyungsoo say that he found the remote, but he didn’t pay too much mind to it. Instead, he continued studying the picture. It was rather odd, nothing like Jongin had drawn when he was younger nor had seen any other kid draw. What were these pink lines for?

“Kyungsoo, what are these pink lines?” Jongin turned towards the direction of the older, who was already sat in his bean bag. Kyungsoo turned toward Jongin and cocked his head to the side.

“What pink lines?”

“These ones.” As he said that, Jongin turned the drawing over towards Kyungsoo, whose eyes immediately widened. Jongin stared at Kyungsoo, patiently waiting for an answer to satisfy his curiosity.

However, Kyungsoo wasn’t ready to give him one. His mind was too busy racing a hundred miles per second, spinning around wildly as he tried to come up with an answer, any answer.

’Just say something already!’

“O-oh, those are nothing. I just… messed up on the picture.”

“Ah.” Jongin hummed in understanding and Kyungsoo sighed in relief, his heart setting back onto its regular beat. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax.

’That was close.’

However, his relaxation did not last very long.

“How come all these pictures have these lines then?” Jongin inquired a few moments later. Slowly, Kyungsoo opened his eyes and turned towards Jongin’s direction once again. There, floating from his hand, was a brightly colored brown String. Confusion.

Kyungsoo sighed begrudgingly and anxiously before he set about telling Jongin his story. From seeing Strings to finding out no one else could see them to his parents interrogations to the rise of bullies that made fun of his gift, Kyungsoo told Jongin everything. And, throughout the whole exchange, Jongin quietly listened to and absorbed every bit of information he was told.

“So, you can see Strings coming out of people that change color because of what that person is feeling?”

Kyungsoo nodded, ashamed. This is it. This is when he loses the best friend he had ever had. This is when he goes back to being the local ‘freak’ with no friends to call his own.

This is when he loses Jongin.

“That’s so cool!”

Kyungsoo’s head snapped up at the comment. Did he hear that right? Did Jongin really just say that his ability was… cool?

“It’s… cool?”

Jongin nodded his head furiously in affirmation. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard in my life!”

Kyungsoo scrunched up his eyebrows, trying to compute what Jongin was saying.

“So, you… Don’t hate me? You still want to be my friend?”

Jongin pouted at that. Him, not Kyungsoo’s friend? That sounded like a nightmare.

“I don’t understand why someone would be mean to you because of something like this. It doesn’t make any sense! You can’t help it that you see Strings. They’re probably just jealous because they aren’t cool like you.” Jongin puffed his cheeks, annoyance evident on his face. “And of course I’m still your friend!”

Kyungsoo sat quietly in awe as Jongin passionately spoke to him. He had never seen Jongin so fired up and upset about something before, and for it to be about his ability was downright dumbfounding.

“Kyungsoo, you’re amazing. Those bullies don’t know anything about you.” Jongin finished his speech sternly as he looked directly into the older’s eyes. And what Kyungsoo saw reflected in them was pure, raw genuineness.

“Do you really mean that?” The smaller of the two asked quietly as he seemed to become even smaller in his seat. He couldn’t, no, shouldn’t believe the other’s words. He shouldn’t get his hopes up. Jongin was obviously not thinking straight. There’s no way someone who would want to be friends with someone that was a freak like him existed.

“Kyungsoo, we will always be friends! Even when I die, I’ll come back as a ghost to haunt you.”

And yet, here Jongin was, defying Kyungsoo’s impossible.

Jongin shuffled over to where Kyungsoo sat and looked him dead in the eyes. His black eyes were soft, full of caring and understanding, as they stared right into his. And, Kyungsoo knew that what Jongin was saying was absolutely true. Jongin took Kyungsoo’s hand and raised up his pinky along with his own.

“There’s no way you’ll get rid of me, I promise.” And with that, the younger crossed their pinkies firmly, as if to say that there are no take backs to this promise. “And there’s no way I’ll get rid of you, either!”

Kyungsoo nodded as his throat constricted with the onslaught of emotions running through him at that moment.

“I promise, too.” He croaked out and squeezed their pinkies tighter. Jongin smiled his pretty wide smile and crinkled his eyes up at Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo heart pounded heavily in his chest at the sight of such a beautiful and sweet smile being directed at him. What did he do to deserve someone like Jongin?

After their heartfelt moment finally subsided, the two finally pulled apart their pinkies. As their hands moved apart, Kyungsoo noticed something new. Something he had never seen before.

A faint peach String.

Part 2