[fic] suho/d.o.: to the moon (01/02)
title: to the moon
pairing: suho/d.o.
genre: romance
rating: pg-13
word count: ~13k w
summary: all he wanted was to go to the moon. *based on the RPG game of the same title*
*warnings: contains game spoilers. if you guys want to play the game, please play it first before reading this because it will most ruin the gameplay and the tears
“Why are you so stupid!”
Lu Han slams the passenger’s door to a close, huffing frustratedly as he moves to inspect the damage of their now smoking car. The black hood is all dented, curved this way and that around the tree stump standing smack centre on a field of freshly mown grass, newly planted sunflowers. Underneath the bonnet the engine releases noxious fumes, fingers of dark grey clouds crawling up to the sky.
“You just had to crash the car,” Lu Han rubs in, putting his hands on his hips in exasperation.
“What,” his partner defends, looking quite shaken as he straightens his white lab coat. “I was just being a good citizen of the world. I avoided that squirrel crossing the street.”
“The squirrel’s dead, Sehun,” Lu Han deadpans, head jerking to the direction where said animal lies. Sehun turns and there, indeed, sprawled on the side of the road is a squirrel that ceases to breathe, immobile and lying stomach down on the dark asphalt.
“Oh my god,” Sehun says. He grapples for a moment, then clears his throat. “At least he’s in a better place?”
“I so regret letting you cheat on our board exams,” Lu Han sighs, running a hand over his face.
He turns away from Sehun and stares at the cliff in front of them. It’s all lush greeneries, and flowers the most beautiful shades of blues and reds and yellows. Few oak trees line the trail then eventually thicken out, with trunks that climb up and up and up until their long branches tangle up and around each other, with autumnal leaves that resemble a mass of clouds the colour of the sunset with dashes and dots of red and green up above. If Lu Han tries to stand on his tiptoes, he may be able to see a glimpse of the white picket fence the agency told him about.
“Come on, let’s go and get this over with,” Lu Han says. He starts trudging his way up the steps, looks back to see if Sehun’s following him. “Don’t leave the equipment in the car, you dimwit.”
Sehun watches Lu Han walk up the trail, leaving him alone with the crashed car and the roadkill. He ruffles a hand through his hair, messy dark brown strands of hair splaying all over his forehead and eyes. “Ugh.” He opens the door to the backseat and takes out a big metal box, heaves it over his shoulder. Using his hip, he pushes the door to a close. With a grunt, he starts the hike uphill.
“Sehun-ah! Don’t forget to lock the car.” Damn it.
☾
“Seems like a nice place to retire, you reckon,” Sehun comments after catching his breath. He drops the metal box front of him, wipes the sweat trickling down the sides of his face, brushes away the bangs matted to his forehead. Lu Han stands next to him looking clean and dandy, humming in response while his eyes roam the place.
On top of the cliff is a beautiful blue house. Its walls are painted the softest shade of blue, with white French windows decorating them. The roof is a nice robin’s egg blue, shingles all intact and gleaming under the setting sun. In front of them is a great mahogany door with intricate carvings embossed on it from top down, stars and constellations and galaxies brought into relief in the most awing way possible. Coming from inside the house they could hear the most beautiful tune playing on the piano, delicate melodies lilting up and trickling out of the crevices of the doors and into the beautiful front yard.
Surrounding the house is a perfectly manicured lawn, the grass the loveliest of greens, the bushes properly trimmed and cut. There were flowers everywhere: sunflowers and daisies, red roses and white carnations, orange cosmos and small buds of forget-me-nots growing here and there: an explosion of colours and scents and beauty.
“Do I have the pleasure of knocking, or,” Sehun starts, hand already poised to knock, eyes looking sideways at Lu Han. Lu Han pointedly stares. “Ok then.” Sehun raps on the door a measured three times before taking a step back, falling into step with Lu Han. They hear the last melodies of the piano piece fade away when the door creaks open, a man slipping out to meet them. Sehun and Lu Han watch as the man looks them up and down, before realisation dawns on his face.
“You’re the doctors from that company, right?” the man asks. When Sehun nods as an answer, a soft smile lights the man’s face, revealing a soft dimple dipping in his right cheek, eyes warm and kind. “Come in, we were waiting for you.”
The man opens the door wider and beckons them in, helping Sehun bring in the metal box in the process. “I’m Yixing, by the way. I’m the caretaker here,” he introduces. Yixing places his side of the metal box down on the shiny wooden floor, straightening up to talk to the doctors.
“Junmyeoni is just upstairs. You will help him, won’t you? You’ll make Junmyeoni’s dream come true?”
“Is our patient a kid?” Lu Han asks, eyes roaming around the lounge room they’re currently in. The windows are all framed with ecru coloured drapes parted to let the remaining sunlight in, strobes of orange and yellow light filtering into the room. There are sofas pushed to the wall, a humble glass coffee table in the centre. Atop the coffee table is yesterday’s newspaper, a book with Tony Attwood embroidered on the side, a white, folded paper rabbit, and a faded Totoro stuffed toy. There are no picture frames in sight. “If this ‘Junmyeoni’ is a kid, then we can’t be of much help, sir. Young, healthy people aren’t supposed to be undergoing this procedure. Maybe we could call up ano-”
“Oh no,” Yixing says, head moving back and forth, soft smile still intact. “That’s just how he likes us to call him.” Two little kids scurry into the lounge room, dodging and going around Sehun’s and Lu Han’s legs before disappearing into another room which looks like the dining room. “Those are my kids: Kai and Tao. They won’t be a bother, I promise.”
“This is a nice house,” Sehun muses, whistling low as his fingers stroke the polished ivory keys of the grand piano. He turns to look at the music sheet spread out on the rack. For Kyungsoo. There were only two notes the whole duration of the song. “Hey, Lu, look at-”
“Come on, Sehun. We need to set up,” Lu Han cuts in, foot already on the first step of the wooden staircase. “Bring the box up, will you?”
“I am not paid to be your servant, you know,” Sehun groans out as he brings the heavy box up the stairs, stopping by the landing to catch his breath.
“I am helping you burn all the calories you get from drinking all those milk teas, you should be thankful, you swine.” Lu Han comes over to where Sehun is and helps bring the box into the bedroom.
Their patient, Junmyeoni, lies on the bed, connected to a cardiac monitor, two bags of IVs attached to his left hand. The only sounds in the room are the slow beeping of the machine monitoring his heart rate, the steady dripping of dextrose, the shuffling of Sehun’s feet as he sets up the memory computer, the quiet breathing of the people in the room.
It’s a very spacious room. A sizeable wooden wardrobe closet is placed at the farthest left-side corner of the room, next to a small bedside table with a vase of freshly-picked wildflowers and a folded blue and yellow paper rabbit on top of it. In the middle of the room is a king-sized bed with white covers. In front of it is a leather settee, and to its right is a door leading to a room filled with paintings of lighthouses at night, the moon a silver globe in the distance.
Lu Han nears the bed, looking at the old man whose face is nearly obscured by the oxygen mask strapped to his face. The doctor on the other side of the bed hands him a clipboard, filled with their patient’s current stats.
“I’m Xiumin,” the doctor says as Lu Han skims the papers in his hand. “Junmyeon here was fine up until last week. Still up and walking around the backyard last week Monday, then fell ill Tuesday. His health spiralled down after that. Looks like he only has a day or two left.”
Lu Han watches Xiumin adjust the IV strap around the old man’s wrist, loosen the covers wrapped around him. Lu Han signs the last piece of paper on the clipboard, confirming that he has agreed to the Terms and Conditions and that it is all part of his job, that he must do his job no matter what.
“Sehun here, go sign,” Lu Han orders, handing the clipboard to the younger man currently fussing over the wirings of the machine, clipping this wire to that outlet, that outlet to this wire, red goes to red, blue goes to blue. He takes the clipboard, signs with a flourish, and goes back to work while Lu Han hands back the clipboard to Xiumin.
“So,” Lu Han starts, clears his throat. “What’s Junmyeon’s dream?”
Yixing ponders for a moment, eyes lightly trained on the small up and down movements of Junmyeon’s chest. “To go to the moon.”
“To go to the moon?” Lu Han repeats, eyes wide at the absurdity of the dream their current patient wants. “Go to the moon? Are you sure?”
Yixing nods his head vehemently. “Will you be able to help him?” Yixing asks, watching Sehun type lightning speed on the computer’s keypad, the backlight of its screen reflecting on the lens of the doctor’s black-rimmed glasses. “Will you be able to send him to the moon?”
“We’ll need to know his reason why he wants to go, though,” Sehun answers, throws an arm over his chair’s backrest, shifts in his seat so he faces the three. “We won’t be able to stimulate his dream without knowing what pushes him to want to go to the moon.”
“He never really told me anything.” Yixing fiddles with his fingers, taps them lightly on the wooden frame of the bed. “You see, he was a really quiet man. I never really got to know him much because he always either cooped himself inside his study or stayed morning ‘til afternoon by the cliff overlooking the lighthouse out back.”
“Well, it seems we have to look for the reason ourselves, Sehun.” Lu Han walks over to the settee placed in front of the bed, picks up a helmet Sehun set there. Lu Han lightly puts it on Junmyeon’s head, careful not to wake him, mindful not to startle him. Then Lu Han takes the other helmet left on the chaise, sits down and straps the contraption on his head.
“You ready?” Sehun asks once he’s finally good and ready to go, helmet firmly in place. Lu Han nods. Sehun turns to face Yixing and Xiumin, and says, “Please make sure his condition is stable. We won’t be able to do our work properly if he goes berserk all of a sudden.”
Sehun turns back to face the screen, types in the confirmation and the activation code. He looks at Lu Han, holds up three fingers. “On three, ok.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
☾
They’re inside the bedroom.
This time around it’s empty, the bed nicely and pristinely made, Junmyeon nowhere to be seen. They hear the soft presses of piano keys, two notes being played over and over again until it layers with the most porcelain sounding tilt as it rises in volume and fastens in tempo that flickers and melts into the cool dry air, lacing it with nostalgia and melancholia only a relived memory can give. The tune sounds familiar, like a far off dream, to Lu Han.
“Come on, we have to find Junmyeon,” Sehun says, ushering Lu Han down the staircase. When they arrive at the lounge room, they see the two kids, Kai and Tao playing the piano, laughing and giggling as the pace of the song fastens then slows. Sehun slowly opens the front door, creeps out and waits for Lu Han to do the same.
“Those kids are good,” Sehun says, breath visible in the frigid night. They walk around the side of the house, looking for Junmyeon. Lu Han hums in agreement, listens to his shoes crunch against the crisp fallen leaves that litter the ground. He looks up when he hears soft voices talking. In front of them, sitting by a bench, is Junmyeon. He has a plush toy on his lap, stroking it with dry, aged, and wrinkled hands. Standing beside him is Yixing who is coaxing him to go back inside the house.
“Come on, Junmyeoni,” Yixing croons, looping a hand around Junmyeon’s arm and tries to bring him to stand. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
“Excuse me.” Lu Han looks at Sehun, startled at the latter’s sudden interruption. When he averts his attention back to Junmyeon, Lu Han sees warm almond eyes on his, recognition in his smile. Sehun didn’t even bother deactivating their visibility sensor.
“You’re from that company, right? I’ve been waiting for you both all day,” the old man tells them, leaning slightly on Yixing for support. He offers a weak smile, chapped lips parting open to reveal rows of white teeth still intact.
“Your company did call to say that people were already sent to come here.”
“Uh... Yes, we’re from EXO Corporations,” Lu Han confirms, smiling slightly at the older man out of politeness. “I’m Doctor Lu Han.”
“And I’m-ow what was that for?” Sehun demands, massaging his side. Lu Han comes closer, and whispers, “Do not try anything ok? We’re here to work.” He knows all too well the antics of his younger partner.
“I’m Doctor Oh Sehun,” he introduces, offers a slight bow in Junmyeon’s direction. “We’re here to make your dream come true.”
They watch as the old man’s face lights up, eyes twinkling under the shine of the moon. “You’ll take me to the moon?”
“But we need to know why you want to go to the moon first, in order for us to carry out our job.”
“I-I don’t know,” Junmyeon replies. “I don’t know why I want to go to the moon.”
Lu Han startles. “You don’t know why? But you must have some reason why you want to go there.”
Junmyeon slowly shakes his head from left to right, strands of grey hair whispering in the wind. “I don’t remember ever having a reason to go to the moon. Does this mean I won’t be able to go?”
“You’ll be able to go, of course!” Lu Han exclaims, trying to comfort the growingly upset man. It won’t do good to unsettle this Memory Junmyeon. “But we need to know why this is your dream. Will you allow us to go back through your memories?”
“You won’t be changing anything though, right? Nothing will be deleted?”
“We can’t guarantee that, sir. But we’ll try our best.”
They’re silent for a moment, Sehun and Lu Han standing behind the bench while Junmyeon and Yixing stand on the other side, the former using the latter’s arm as a bolster to keep himself up. They watch as Junmyeon’s emotions flash in his eyes, look as bursts of vivid colours claps through the nighttime sky. Harsh winds blow through the two doctors, makes Lu Han take three steps back to right himself from nearly falling. Then everything goes still and Junmyeon sags in Yixing’s hold. “Ok. Take me to the moon.”
☾
It’s a very rainy afternoon.
They find Junmyeon by a lighthouse, the very blue and yellow lighthouse visible from atop the cliff where the old man’s house stood. He stands before a black marble slab, holding an umbrella over it while he lets rainwater pelt down on his half-covered back.
“I’m turning off visibility and interactivity, ok?” Sehun says, presses rapidly on the touchpad in his hand. “You stay here while I go look for a leaping momento. It seems this memory and the memory before was only a week apart. We need to go at least half a year back.”
Lu Han watches as his foot suddenly turns transparent, and looks on as the transparency takes over his whole body until he’s just a milky silhouette, the rain going through him. Sehun goes off in search for the momento, leaving Lu Han alone with This Memory Junmyeon. He takes steps closer to the man and, when he’s about a metre away, listens to the words coming out of his mouth. His voice is soft and quiet, nearly drowned out by the pitter-patter of rain on the soil.
“I have a caretaker now,” Junmyeon says to the wind, voice heavy and tired. “He has two wonderful kids. I’m trying to teach them how to play the piano and it’s turning out good. They learned faster than you, did you know that?” Junmyeon’s laugh is a soft wheezing sound, tiny whistles of air leaving his lungs.
“It’s finished. I finally finished the house you wanted me to build. You never even got to see it. But I’ll be able to watch over her everyday, like you, from here. She’s finally ok, you know. She’s fine and beautiful and stunning, like how you wanted her to be. I...” Lu Han watches as Junmyeon straightens, still holding an umbrella over the epitaph, and looks up at the lighthouse. “I’ll never be far from you two now that I’m here. I can play for both of you; I’d leave the back door open and I’d play especially hard enough for you and Anya to hear.”
It hurts to watch Junmyeon struggle to kneel down, a hand grasping tightly on the engraved marble. His knees dig into the soft ground, the cold mudwater seeping into his slacks. “I miss you.” Tears build up in his eyes. “Nobody calls me Junmyeoni anymore. No one folds paper rabbits and tells stories about lighthouses anymore. I don’t understand-I might never understand why you made me do this, but I stayed true to my word. I made your wish come true, and I’m sure Anya’s grateful, too. But this didn’t need to happen. You didn’t need to do this. I could’ve done something, anything, for you. Why’d you have to be so selfish?”
Lu Han looks around for any signs of Sehun and, upon realising the younger man’s pretty much not here, turns on his visibility and interactivity. He deliberately moves into his patient’s sight, expecting the surprised expression on Junmyeon’s face when he looks up to ask, “Who are you?”
“I’m Lu Han, I was just passing by and I saw this beautiful lighthouse,” the doctor replies, gesturing at the tower behind him. He looks sympathisingly at the man, crouches down so they’re both at eye-level. “Was this person important to you?”
“He was my husband. His name was Kyungsoo.”
“That’s a wonderful name,” Lu Han compliments, watching the weak smile that unknowingly stretches Junmyeon’s lips. “He must’ve been a wonderful person, too.”
“He was,” Junmyeon sniffs, shuffles something buried deep in his coat. A Totoro plush. The same one Lu Han saw in the lounge room when they first arrived at the house. Junmyeon looks up at the lightening sky. The rain had dissolved into a frail drizzle. Lu Han turns off his visibility and interactivity. “He must be so happy up there.”
“Lu Han, let’s go,” Sehun calls out. He’s holding a music sheet in his hands, glowing the faintest azure under the light. “I found a leaping momento.”
☾
“After we pay for the operation, I’ll continue. We’ll have enough money for it.”
“Lies.”
Junmyeon is sitting down on a chair at the side of the bed, hands interlaced with the person lying down on the bed. There’s a Totoro toy placed on the person’s lap, an open book by his feet.
“I don’t like it when you lie, Junmyeoni.” The person plays with Junmyeon’s fingers, trembling digits tracing blue-green veins up and down the back of his palm. “I’m going to die anyway.”
“I don’t like it when you say that, Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon brings their hands up to his face, presses Kyungsoo’s hands to his cheek. “You will get better.”
“I’m not signing the papers.”
“You will, Kyungsoo, you have to.”
“I’ve seen the computation for the finances, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo says, finality and resignation slipping from his tongue. “You and I both know it won’t cut.”
“We’ll find a way,” Junmyeon reasons out. “I can stop the construction for a while, save up-”
“Why do keep on convincing me against my will?”
“We have to pay for the medical bills!” Junmyeon’s voice is raised, desperation in the cracks of his words. Why won’t Kyungsoo understand? He buries his face in their hands, voice shuddering as he says, “I don’t want you to die. I don’t want to lose you, Kyungsoo. I can lose everything just not you. Never you.”
Kyungsoo sits up a little from the bed, skin pallid and lips ghostly pale and chapped in this light. He takes Junmyeon’s face in his hands, strokes away the tears that tangle in his eyelashes. “And I don’t want you to abandon us. Do you know what makes me happy? Do you? Well, I do. And this is what I want, Junmyeoni. I want you to finish the house, and be with Anya. You’ll be able to see her, talk to her, and comfort her. You can play all the beautiful music to her and make her happy. Make me happy.”
Kyungsoo presses featherlight kisses atop Junmyeon’s closed eyelids. A single tear falls on Junmyeon’s cheek. When he pulls away he sees tears brimming Kyungsoo’s eyes, a quivery smile on his lips. Junmyeon leans up to kiss those lips, soft and innocent and short. He pulls away, pushing back the chair he’s sitting on before standing up.
“I wrote a song for you,” Junmyeon says, “and I want you to hear it.” He makes his way to the grand piano situated at the side of the room, lifts up the lid covering polished ivory and ebony keys.
“You didn’t need to have the piano brought up here, you know,” Kyungsoo smilingly comments, sinking his back deeper into the pillows as Junmyeon starts playing. “I would’ve heard you just fine from downstairs if you left the door open. You know I’ll always leave the door open for you.” It’s a soothing tune that goes up and down and here and there, and it reminds Kyungsoo of sunshine and warmth and happiness and contentment and simplicity. Kyungsoo closes his eyes as the tinkling notes continue to flow.
“I want you to hear it firsthand. I want to see your face light up like it does now.” Junmyeon lets his hands take the lead, the melody sailing in the room. He watches as Kyungsoo’s breathing evens out, the faint tilt of his lips upward still shadowing his face. “The title is For Kyungsoo.”
☾
“The house is... half-missing.” Sehun looks around the wooden skeleton of a house in front of them.
Lu Han scoffs. “No shit, Sherlock.” Lu Han barely notices himself becoming opalescent.
They go around to the front porch and they see Junmyeon sitting down on the grass, fanning himself as he stretches his legs. He’s much younger here, around his mid-30’s, hair a weathered brown with streaks of grey at the sides. They hear a rustle and there by the trail is a man making his way towards Junmyeon, a jar of pickled mangoes in his hand.
“Hey, Junmyeon, I heard about Kyungsoo,” the man says as he approaches, sitting next to Junmyeon on the pile of plywood. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s ok. The doctor said it’s still treatable, but the bills,” Junmyeon runs a hand over his face, “we can barely make through with his treatments. I don’t think our savings can keep up with paying for his therapy and the constructions for this house. I could stop the building of the house and focus on making him better, but he’ll never hear it. I know it. This place is too special for him. He’d be heartbroken if he finds out. I-I don’t know anymore, Baekhyun.”
“What will you tell him then? You know you can’t keep this from him forever.”
“I’ll tell him,” Junmyeon sighs, “everything’s going to be ok. That we can make it.”
“You’d be lying to him and you know it.”
“And I’d be doing it because I love him.” Junmyeon turns to face Baekhyun, and Baekhyun thinks he looks so tired, not just the ordinary tired but the bone-deep tiredness that withers all the spirit and the soul from his friend. “I’m not letting him die.”
“You should just let him be, Junmyeon. What if what he wants is for you to finish this house and not pull through with the treatments? Just because we have the same condition doesn’t mean we think the same, Junmyeon. Kris may have forced me into taking the treatments, but that doesn’t mean you can force Kyungsoo, too.” Baekhyun reasons. “Don’t you want to think about what he wants?”
“What about what I want? Can’t I be selfish just once?” Junmyeon stands up and paces. “Ever since he started folding those damned paper rabbits, I feel like I’m doing something wrong. And whenever he hands one to me and asks ‘What is this?’ with that beautiful voice of his, and I always answer the same thing: ‘a rabbit’; the heartbreak that flashes in his face makes me feel like the worst person in the world. He looks at me with those moon eyes of his and it’s like he’s waiting for me to say something, wanting me to say something, and I feel like I owe him something, but I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”
“He has problems expressing what he feels, Junmyeon. It’s a part of our condition. It’s just that Kyungsoo got diagnosed at a late stage, and you knew that! Don’t tell me you’re giving up? He just needs to be understood.”
“But I can’t let Kyungsoo die, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon says, voice laced with resolve. He picks up a stack of plywood and hauls it over his shoulder, enters the empty foundations of the house. “I still owe him a wish.” Baekhyun follows Junmyeon with sad eyes.
Lu Han watches as Sehun picks up a small slab of rock, white and smooth around the edges, realises it’s another leaping momento the moment it glows in Sehun’s grip.
☾
“She looks so beautiful,” Kyungsoo breathes as he looks up at the lighthouse in front of him, shakes the hand holding Junmyeon’s, making him look up at the lighthouse as well. “Why did they leave her alone and uncared for like this?”
Junmyeon thinks for a reply, a reasonable one to placate Kyungsoo’s feelings, erase the frown creasing his forehead. “Maybe because she’s not needed anymore. By ships, I mean.”
“Not... needed?” Kyungsoo looks from Junmyeon to the lighthouse, Junmyeon then back again at the lighthouse. “How can people not need her?”
“Well, ships don’t really dock here anymore and, with the fast progressing technology, ships have GPS that can guide them. Some captains think GPS is better than lighthouses.”
“So they abandon her?” Kyungsoo asks, pulling his hand away from Junmyeon’s hold. “Because people think she’s useless?”
Junmyeon focuses on the darkening of Kyungsoo’s face, the way his innocent eyes stare distressingly at the abandoned lighthouse, tears accumulating there. His emotions show on his beautiful face, genuine and true and Junmyeon knows that this is how Kyungsoo really is: sensitive, fragile, feeling, and lovely. But of all the things that he hates, it’s seeing Kyungsoo cry.
“Hey,” Junmyeon calls, placing a hand at the small of Kyungsoo’s back, offers as much comfort as he can, the way he always has after all these years. “You know, I just got a raise at work. And as of yet, everything’s been pretty stable. I was thinking...”
“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo inquires, shrugging away from Junmyeon’s half-embrace, wipes the tears away from his face. “What are you trying to say?”
“What I’m trying to say is,” Junmyeon moves forward and takes the piece of paper taped to the entrance door of the lighthouse, and hands it to Kyungsoo, “I could buy this place for you. I could have a house built here for you, and for Anya. You’ll never be far away from her, ever again. What do you say?”
He eyes the way Kyungsoo’s hands start to shake, grip tightening on the land contract Junmyeon handed to him, the way tears form in his moon eyes yet again. “No, no, please don’t cry, Kyungsoo. I’m sorry, don’t cry anymore-I made you upset again. Love-”
Junmyeon doesn’t get the chance to finish what he was saying for Kyungsoo’s already launched himself at him, arms thrown around Junmyeon’s neck, grasping tightly as if he’s a buoy, a lifeline he has to hold onto. Tears slide down his collarbones as Kyungsoo sobs and laughs into his skin. Junmyeon wraps his arms around Kyungsoo while Kyungsoo sort of jumps in his arms, blubbering happily.
“You mean it? You really do?” Kyungsoo brings his head up to look at Junmyeon and the hope and the spark in his eyes is enough for Junmyeon to say, “Yes, yes. This is yours, all yours.”
He beams down at Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo reaches up to thread his fingers in Junmyeon’s hair, pulls him close to press a kiss to his lips and it’s wonderful and beautiful and stunning and perfect. He lets Kyungsoo pepper him with kisses: from the corners of his mouth, the bows of his thin upper lip, to his pink lower lip before sealing his mouth over Junmyeon’s, eyes firmly closed, smiling into Junmyeon’s lips.
“We’ll be able to see her from the window! We can watch over her morning, noon, and night, and we’ll-or you will-be able to play the piano for her, and sing to her.” Kyungsoo’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight, his excitement evident in the flush of his cheeks, his tight grip on Junmyeon’s arms. Junmyeon thinks he’s done the greatest thing on this planet, that maybe he must’ve saved mankind in another life to deserve Kyungsoo in this one.
“Yeah,” Junmyeon promises. “We will.”
☾
The next memory they arrive in is a room filled with paper rabbits, the floor littered with folded papers, an array of white covering the beige carpet.
“What is this,” Sehun breathes out as he looks around the room, eyes constantly monitoring his touchpad for any signs of a leaping momento. “Do they have an affinity for rabbits or something?”
“Whatever, Sehun.” Lu Han makes his way to the door, taking note that this is the Before House, the house where Junmyeon and Kyungsoo stayed in before Junmyeon had the chance to finish the blue house for Kyungsoo. “What do you think of this case, so far?”
“I don’t know, really,” Sehun mumbles, fingers sliding on the screen, glasses flashing green, “One of those sappy love stories, I guess. Poor guy though, built a house and never got around to showing the finished thing to his love because he died.”
Lu Han gasps in mock surprise. “Wow, I never thought you were a cynic.” He jumps down the last three steps, surveys the area for any signs of Junmyeon or Kyungsoo, or both. “Where are they?”
Sehun taps some more. “Over there.” He points at a half-open door in the open kitchen. They make their way towards the door and when they got in, they’re welcomed by more than two dozen folded paper rabbits scattered all over the floor, on top of bookcases, placed all over the desk where Kyungsoo’s currently working... on a paper rabbit.
“Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, look at me.”
Junmyeon stands amidst the sea of white, feet toeing the ears of one rabbit on the floor. Junmyeon moves the rabbit to the side, moves closer towards the desk. “Kyungsoo, what are you doing?”
“Folding.” Kyungsoo runs his fingernail along a fold, opens it then tears it ever so carefully, fingers nimble, dainty, and sure.
“I know, you’ve finished two reams already,” Junmyeon replies. “There isn’t even enough room in the house for them. Even the lantern room is filled with them.”
Kyungsoo lifts his head up to look at Junmyeon and Junmyeon’s breath sort of hitches in his throat. Kyungsoo’s hair is shorter now, soft fringe covering his whole forehead. The ends curl around behind his ears and his nape, making him look younger and frailer. Junmyeon feels something stir inside him, like déjà vu, like he’s seen him like this before but where.
“You cut your hair.” Junmyeon struggles for something anything to say, to ask. It’s getting hard-it always was hard-to understand Kyungsoo and, it seems, Kyungsoo doesn’t want to be helped. And it’s making Junmyeon all the more panicky. “Are you ok, Kyungsoo?”
“Come here.” Kyungsoo reaches out to grab Junmyeon’s hand, tugs him around the desk so he’s beside him. Junmyeon crouches down, steadying himself on one knee in front of Kyungsoo. He watches curiously as Kyungsoo places a paper rabbit in the hand he’s currently holding, reaches for Junmyeon’s other hand and makes him cup the rabbit in his palms.
“Do you know what that is, Junmyeoni?” Kyungsoo asks softly, eyes hopefully trained on Junmyeon’s face.
“It’s... a paper rabbit?” Junmyeon answers. Kyungsoo mayhaps looked disappointed but it disappeared so fast Junmyeon’s not sure if it really showed in the first place. But Kyungsoo nods his head, and follows, “And? What else?”
“It’s blue?” then Junmyeon adds, “And the rabbit’s tummy’s yellow?” Junmyeon sighs in frustration when Kyungsoo’s frown deepens, eyes leaving Junmyeon’s face. He turns his face away from Junmyeon and proceeds to take a piece of white paper, starts to fold another paper rabbit. Junmyeon places the piece of intricately folder paper on the desk and makes to stand. “Look, Kyungsoo..”
Then Kyungsoo’s hand freezes in place, Junmyeon halts from trying to stand up. Lu Han watches as Sehun makes his way towards Kyungsoo, reaching out for Kyungsoo’s immobile hand. Lu Han walks over to where Sehun is, latches onto Sehun’s lab coat after he slips off the silver band from Kyungsoo’s finger, activates the momento, and transports them to a distant memory.
☾
“Do you feel different,” Junmyeon asks, “now that we’re wearing the rings and everything?”
Lu Han watches from behind the tree a young Junmyeon and a young Kyungsoo, both wearing tuxedos. Junmyeon’s hair is dyed a shade of apple red, slicked back and shining against the sinking sun. He’s wearing a black suit with a bowtie as red as his hair, a smile that reaches his ears. Kyungsoo’s wearing a pristine, white tuxedo, wildflowers tucked inside his breastpocket. They’re both sitting down on the grass, leaning against the base of the lighthouse. “I don’t think so. Should I?”
“I don’t know either. But I do feel different, somewhat.” Junmyeon brings his legs up, rests his elbows on his knees. He looks at Kyungsoo. “A good different.”
Kyungsoo smiles at Junmyeon then turns his gaze heavenward. “What do you think of the name Anya?” Junmyeon’s smile falters, dims a little. He’s confused. Was Kyungsoo even listening to him? Then it clicks. Kyungsoo shifts in his seat, hands on the soft earth. “Should we call her Anya?”
And Junmyeon thinks that Kyungsoo deserves to be happy, all the happiness in the world. Now that they’re married and that everything’s different, nothing really matters anymore. Nothing but Kyungsoo. “Yeah,” Junmyeon nods. “Anya’s the perfect name for her.”
“Did you hear that?” Kyungsoo laughs, looking up at the lit-up lighthouse, a beacon of light shooting out of its tip and roaming out at the waves like a spotlight. “You’re Anya now. A beautiful name for the most beautiful lighthouse in the world.” Junmyeon may never know why this place is so important to Kyungsoo, but that’s ok. As long as he’s happy, everything’s alright.
“Hey, come with me.” Junmyeon stands up abruptly, brushes off the grass from his slacks. Then he offers a hand to Kyungsoo, helps him up, and proceeds to drag him up the spiral staircase of the lighthouse, peals of laughter echoing in the tower.
Junmyeon pushes open the door, and enters the room where they store the lighthouse lamp. The place is illuminated, their shadows projected on the walls, tall and big compared to them.
“Would you mind giving me this dance?” Junmyeon asks, a hand, palm open, offered in front of Kyungsoo.
“But you don’t know how to dance, silly,” Kyungsoo laughs, but places his hand on Junmyeon’s anyway. Their hands feel so right laced together, like puzzle pieces clicking into place, like the stars in a constellation that guides a wanderer home. Junmyeon’s movements are clumsy and ungraceful, feet tumbling and avoiding stepping on Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo giggles while Junmyeon struggles, eyes morphed into crescents. Junmyeon hums a light happy tune under his breath, twirls and twirls Kyungsoo around until they’re both dizzy.
Junmyeon sways them to the left, then the right, creating a smooth oscillating rhythm that harmonises with the synchronised beating of their hearts, and the whirring of the moving clockwork gears as the beacon rotates. It’s soothing, and when Kyungsoo leans into him and rests his head on his chest, hand stroking the fine hairs on his nape softly and lovingly, Junmyeon decides that it’s all worth it. He burrows his nose deeper into Kyungsoo’s hair, inhales him in, remembers the scent of sunshine and light, wildflowers and grass, happiness and care. Loving Kyungsoo is worth it.
“Well,” Sehun says as he runs down the stairs two steps at a time, “the momento’s not there. We have to go down.” Sehun leads the way back down the cliff, making a beeline for the trail.
“Wait, how can we find a momento down here if Junmyeon’s up there?” Lu Han asks while he jogs next to Sehun, keeping in pace with the younger.
“There’s another memory linked to this one. And it appears to be important.” Sehun turns, and reaches a clearing where there are clothed tables and chairs, food and drinks and people. The reception. “Or at least it will help us with our job.”
“Congratulations, man!” a person greets, bumping his shoulders with Junmyeon’s. Junmyeon laughs and engulfs the man in a hug.
“Thanks, Kris. For coming and for the support and everything. You too, Baekhyun.” Baekhyun wraps his hand around Kris’s bicep, nods at Junmyeon and Kyungsoo. “Anything for you guys.”
An old lady squeezes her way through the crowd and stops in front of Junmyeon and Kyungsoo.
“I have to go, your aunt and I still have a long way to travel,” she says as she approaches. She holds out her hands and Junmyeon takes them, and kisses them lightly. Kyungsoo hugs her.
“Take care on the way home, ma,” Junmyeon cautions, squeezing him mother’s wrinkled hand. She looks back at him, an unstable, unsure smile on her lips. Her sagged skin crinkles around the forehead and nose, tears spring up her eyes. She taps Junmyeon’s hands and he lets go. Before she leaves she reminds Junmyeon, “I’m so proud of you, Suho.”
“Suho?” Kris asks, looking at the old lady’s retreating figure. “Why did she call you Suho?”
“Oh, that,” Junmyeon trails off. He plays with the silver band on his ring finger, traces the blue-green vein that travels up and down there. “That was my grandpa’s name. He died when I was little. My mum calls me that as a nickname because she said I reminded her of grandpa so much.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Baekhyun pipes up. He shoves a spoonful of mango cake in Kris’s waiting mouth, and continues, “After all those years in high school and college, only now we found out?”
“I wanted you guys to call me Junmyeon,” he answers. “Besides, do I look like a Suho?”
“No,” Kyungsoo mutters. They all fall silent, eyes on Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo’s always been the silent type, never talking, never making a sound. They all understand that it’s a part of who he is, but this is a first. “You look like a Junmyeon.”
“My Junmyeon.”
☾
“It’s curable. The sickness was diagnosed at a late stage but we can treat it.”
Lu Han looks around the setting and he’s in a clinic, and there’s a doctor in front of him. Kyungsoo and Junmyeon sit facing each other, listening to Dr. Park Chanyeol intently.
“Pervasive Developmental Disorders should’ve been detected at an early age so the patient could’ve been treated. Kyungsoo seems like his condition is pretty much under control and that’s a good thing,” Chanyeol assures. He takes out a book, sets it in between the couple. “Here’s a book that explains everything about Kyungsoo’s condition and the treatments we will be going through.”
Kyungsoo quietly picks up the book and flits through it. Chanyeol turns to Junmyeon and asks, “Are you his spouse?”
Junmyeon’s about to nod when Kyungsoo suddenly interrupts, voice soft, “No. No legal affiliations.”
“Oh,” Chanyeol responds. Junmyeon looks intently at Kyungsoo who goes back to silently reading. Chanyeol continues, “During therapies, Kyungsoo will need all the assurance and help he will need. It would be best if the people around him would offer him support and handholding. It will most definitely fasten his recovery.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Junmyeon says, picks up Kyungsoo’s Totoro toy from the floor, and exits with Kyungsoo.
“It’s still here,” Sehun incredulously whispers underneath his breath. “The damned toy is everywhere.”
“Shut up.” Lu Han is confused and Sehun’s comments aren’t helping. So Kyungsoo has a pervasive developmental disorder. Why did Junmyeon even continue with everything? How come none of the events were making sense? And what could have triggered Junmyeon’s want to become an astronaut to go to the moon?
Kyungsoo sits down at the waiting area while he waits for Junmyeon to come back from the receptionist. When Junmyeon comes back he sees Kyungsoo playing with a loose string around Totoro’s chest, head down and legs brought up to his chest. When Junmyeon kneels down in front of Kyungsoo, cups his chin and lifts up so their eyes meet, Junmyeon knows. Kyungsoo’s scared and nervous and anxious. He’s sad, and Junmyeon hurts for him because he knows Kyungsoo will never say what he feels out loud. Junmyeon leans in, lets Kyungsoo’s forehead rest on top of his.
“I will still marry you, Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon whispers against Kyungsoo’s lips. “No matter what happens, I’ll never leave you.”
“How do you know? You’ll leave in the future.” Kyungsoo accuses. And all of a sudden tears are dripping onto Junmyeon’s cheeks and Kyungsoo’s eyelashes are matted and wet with sparkles. “You’ll forget me again anyway.”
“No, I won’t,” Junmyeon argues, not quite getting what Kyungsoo’s saying. He hugs Kyungsoo tight, brings his head to his chest in an effort to comfort him. “I’ll never forget you. And I’ll never leave you alone, ever.” Because the last thing he wants to do is desert Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo shakes his head back and forth against Junmyeon’s chest. Lu Han feels his stomach sink when he sees this, when he feels the familiar tingling that comes with travelling back using a leaping momento.
☾
“Where’s he going?” Sehun asks around a mouth full of popcorn. He’s pointing at a Teenager Junmyeon that’s rising from his seat and making his way towards the theatre exit.
“Why are you even eating here, you moron,” Lu Han snaps. He hits Sehun’s shoulder and stands up, dragging Sehun with him. When they exit the theatre, they see Junmyeon leaning against the wall, cheeks puffed out, holding his breath. He slowly blows the air out, his fringe fluttering at the movement.
“Where are you?” Junmyeon mumbles, foot kicking at the linoleum floors, rubber shoes squeaking at the friction. The hallway’s deserted, not a single person in sight. “I thought I told you Saturday, 8 PM.” Junmyeon slumps back against the wall in frustration, ruffles his hair with his hand.
“Who do you think he’s waiting for?” Sehun asks. “Is the main lead Junmyeon secretly a loner?”
Lu Han glares. “What do you think this is, a movie?”
“What? It’s teenage angst. And it seems better than the tacky movie being shown inside. Who the hell wants to watch a story about a vampire falling for a human girl? What’s the sense in that?”
“You are so shallow sometimes,” Lu Han huffs. “I think I know who he’s waiting for, though.”
“Who?” They hear a screeching sound. They both turn to look at the theatre entrance and there, they see exiting is Kyungsoo. Junmyeon looks up and abruptly stands in surprise, mouth open in astonishment.
“Kyungsoo!” Junmyeon exclaims. Kyungsoo flinches at the volume of his voice, and Junmyeon claps a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. Ears red, he says much quieter, “I thought you didn’t come. I was waiting for you at the entrance and then the movie started I thought maybe you were inside but I didn-”
“Why did you leave?” Kyungsoo asks him, eyes wide. “I thought you wanted to watch the movie together?”
Junmyeon stops, looks at Kyungsoo with confusion written all over his face. “I did, and I was waiting fo-”
“But we were already watching the movie together, right? Same time and date and place and everything. Do you not want to watch with me?”
Junmyeon stares at the innocence of Kyungsoo’s face, the petulant pout on his mouth that’s inching into a frown, the slight furrow of his eyebrows, the shine of his doe eyes. Then Junmyeon laughs, hand covering his mouth. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows scrunch together tightly.
“You’re so weird! But I do want to watch it with you, Kyungsoo. Because I like you.” Junmyeon smiles at Kyungsoo, and walks towards the theatre entrance. He stops, and holds out a hand to Kyungsoo. He watches Kyungsoo shift a Totoro plushie in one hand, using his other one to meet Junmyeon’s halfway. Junmyeon tugs and Kyungsoo follows. “Come on.”
☾
“Dude, of all the people in this school,” Kris demands, long limbs flailing in the air to emphasise his point, “you just had to pick the weird one?”
Junmyeon stops pinning the papers on the bulletin board in the hallways, and turns to give a pointed look at his best friend. “Excuse you, but the ‘weird one’ happens to be friends with your ‘weird one’.”
“Hey, Baekhyun’s not weird.” Kris leans against the glass of the trophy case behind him, thinks of a suiting word to describe his boyfriend. “He’s just special.”
“Then Kyungsoo’s like that, too, except he’s a lot shyer.” Junmyeon concludes, closing the bulletin board’s glass casing with a soft click. “It’s just that... I don’t know how to ask him out.”
“Why don’t you just approach him, man? Ask him out for a date.”
“I can’t what if I scare him off?” Junmyeon bites on a cuticle, turns right. He spots Kyungsoo by the fire exit, sitting on the steps with a Totoro stuffed toy beside him. Junmyeon eyes him uneasily from five doors down. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he says yes but he really just wants to say no?”
“Stop overthinking and just go over there and talk to him.” Kris shoves Junmyeon when he’s about three doors away. “Fighting, Junmyeon!”
Junmyeon straightens his tie, approaches quietly the figure hunched over a tome.
“Hi Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon waits for Kyungsoo to do anything, look up at him or something. “Kyung... soo?”
Kyungsoo lifts his head up slowly, eyes meeting Junmyeon’s hesitantly. His hands unconsciously tighten around the book in his hands. “Junmyeon-ssi?”
“Oh, just call me Junmyeon, or whatever you want,” Junmyeon replies, hand waving in front of his face before resting at his nape, nervously scratching at the skin there. “Um... What are you reading?”
Seconds of silence pass, and Junmyeon debates whether he should repeat his question or not. When he’s about to open his mouth, he gets interrupted by Kyungsoo’s mellow voice answering, “A book about lighthouses.”
“Oh that’s cool, I guess. That toy’s cool, too.”
Kyungsoo looks down at the grey plush toy sitting beside him, and a cross between a smile and a frown decorates his lips. “Yeah. It’s Totoro.”
“Um, hey, Kyungsoo?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you.. you know, maybe, want to catch-watch a movie together?” Junmyeon asks. Then he adds, “W-with me?”
“But we don’t have a date and time.”
“How about Saturday, 8 PM?” Junmyeon mentally crosses his fingers and toes and legs, hoping he says yes, please say yes. Kyungsoo’s looking at him intently, as if he’s waiting for him to say something more, to add more words to his proposition. Junmyeon feels like he has something to say too, like something more to add but he’s too nervous, too caught up with what Kyungsoo might say.
“Sure.” And the smile that Kyungsoo offers him is enough to send him to Cloud 9. When he bows, says thank you, and scuttles away, he practically skips all the way to his homeroom class, happiness bubbling in his stomach. But he can’t help but feel a sense of unease, that feeling you get when you know you’re forgetting something but you just don’t know what.
But Junmyeon shrugs it off, continues to answer his seatwork with a grin plastered on his face.
next
pairing: suho/d.o.
genre: romance
rating: pg-13
word count: ~13k w
summary: all he wanted was to go to the moon. *based on the RPG game of the same title*
*warnings: contains game spoilers. if you guys want to play the game, please play it first before reading this because it will most ruin the gameplay and the tears
“Why are you so stupid!”
Lu Han slams the passenger’s door to a close, huffing frustratedly as he moves to inspect the damage of their now smoking car. The black hood is all dented, curved this way and that around the tree stump standing smack centre on a field of freshly mown grass, newly planted sunflowers. Underneath the bonnet the engine releases noxious fumes, fingers of dark grey clouds crawling up to the sky.
“You just had to crash the car,” Lu Han rubs in, putting his hands on his hips in exasperation.
“What,” his partner defends, looking quite shaken as he straightens his white lab coat. “I was just being a good citizen of the world. I avoided that squirrel crossing the street.”
“The squirrel’s dead, Sehun,” Lu Han deadpans, head jerking to the direction where said animal lies. Sehun turns and there, indeed, sprawled on the side of the road is a squirrel that ceases to breathe, immobile and lying stomach down on the dark asphalt.
“Oh my god,” Sehun says. He grapples for a moment, then clears his throat. “At least he’s in a better place?”
“I so regret letting you cheat on our board exams,” Lu Han sighs, running a hand over his face.
He turns away from Sehun and stares at the cliff in front of them. It’s all lush greeneries, and flowers the most beautiful shades of blues and reds and yellows. Few oak trees line the trail then eventually thicken out, with trunks that climb up and up and up until their long branches tangle up and around each other, with autumnal leaves that resemble a mass of clouds the colour of the sunset with dashes and dots of red and green up above. If Lu Han tries to stand on his tiptoes, he may be able to see a glimpse of the white picket fence the agency told him about.
“Come on, let’s go and get this over with,” Lu Han says. He starts trudging his way up the steps, looks back to see if Sehun’s following him. “Don’t leave the equipment in the car, you dimwit.”
Sehun watches Lu Han walk up the trail, leaving him alone with the crashed car and the roadkill. He ruffles a hand through his hair, messy dark brown strands of hair splaying all over his forehead and eyes. “Ugh.” He opens the door to the backseat and takes out a big metal box, heaves it over his shoulder. Using his hip, he pushes the door to a close. With a grunt, he starts the hike uphill.
“Sehun-ah! Don’t forget to lock the car.” Damn it.
☾
“Seems like a nice place to retire, you reckon,” Sehun comments after catching his breath. He drops the metal box front of him, wipes the sweat trickling down the sides of his face, brushes away the bangs matted to his forehead. Lu Han stands next to him looking clean and dandy, humming in response while his eyes roam the place.
On top of the cliff is a beautiful blue house. Its walls are painted the softest shade of blue, with white French windows decorating them. The roof is a nice robin’s egg blue, shingles all intact and gleaming under the setting sun. In front of them is a great mahogany door with intricate carvings embossed on it from top down, stars and constellations and galaxies brought into relief in the most awing way possible. Coming from inside the house they could hear the most beautiful tune playing on the piano, delicate melodies lilting up and trickling out of the crevices of the doors and into the beautiful front yard.
Surrounding the house is a perfectly manicured lawn, the grass the loveliest of greens, the bushes properly trimmed and cut. There were flowers everywhere: sunflowers and daisies, red roses and white carnations, orange cosmos and small buds of forget-me-nots growing here and there: an explosion of colours and scents and beauty.
“Do I have the pleasure of knocking, or,” Sehun starts, hand already poised to knock, eyes looking sideways at Lu Han. Lu Han pointedly stares. “Ok then.” Sehun raps on the door a measured three times before taking a step back, falling into step with Lu Han. They hear the last melodies of the piano piece fade away when the door creaks open, a man slipping out to meet them. Sehun and Lu Han watch as the man looks them up and down, before realisation dawns on his face.
“You’re the doctors from that company, right?” the man asks. When Sehun nods as an answer, a soft smile lights the man’s face, revealing a soft dimple dipping in his right cheek, eyes warm and kind. “Come in, we were waiting for you.”
The man opens the door wider and beckons them in, helping Sehun bring in the metal box in the process. “I’m Yixing, by the way. I’m the caretaker here,” he introduces. Yixing places his side of the metal box down on the shiny wooden floor, straightening up to talk to the doctors.
“Junmyeoni is just upstairs. You will help him, won’t you? You’ll make Junmyeoni’s dream come true?”
“Is our patient a kid?” Lu Han asks, eyes roaming around the lounge room they’re currently in. The windows are all framed with ecru coloured drapes parted to let the remaining sunlight in, strobes of orange and yellow light filtering into the room. There are sofas pushed to the wall, a humble glass coffee table in the centre. Atop the coffee table is yesterday’s newspaper, a book with Tony Attwood embroidered on the side, a white, folded paper rabbit, and a faded Totoro stuffed toy. There are no picture frames in sight. “If this ‘Junmyeoni’ is a kid, then we can’t be of much help, sir. Young, healthy people aren’t supposed to be undergoing this procedure. Maybe we could call up ano-”
“Oh no,” Yixing says, head moving back and forth, soft smile still intact. “That’s just how he likes us to call him.” Two little kids scurry into the lounge room, dodging and going around Sehun’s and Lu Han’s legs before disappearing into another room which looks like the dining room. “Those are my kids: Kai and Tao. They won’t be a bother, I promise.”
“This is a nice house,” Sehun muses, whistling low as his fingers stroke the polished ivory keys of the grand piano. He turns to look at the music sheet spread out on the rack. For Kyungsoo. There were only two notes the whole duration of the song. “Hey, Lu, look at-”
“Come on, Sehun. We need to set up,” Lu Han cuts in, foot already on the first step of the wooden staircase. “Bring the box up, will you?”
“I am not paid to be your servant, you know,” Sehun groans out as he brings the heavy box up the stairs, stopping by the landing to catch his breath.
“I am helping you burn all the calories you get from drinking all those milk teas, you should be thankful, you swine.” Lu Han comes over to where Sehun is and helps bring the box into the bedroom.
Their patient, Junmyeoni, lies on the bed, connected to a cardiac monitor, two bags of IVs attached to his left hand. The only sounds in the room are the slow beeping of the machine monitoring his heart rate, the steady dripping of dextrose, the shuffling of Sehun’s feet as he sets up the memory computer, the quiet breathing of the people in the room.
It’s a very spacious room. A sizeable wooden wardrobe closet is placed at the farthest left-side corner of the room, next to a small bedside table with a vase of freshly-picked wildflowers and a folded blue and yellow paper rabbit on top of it. In the middle of the room is a king-sized bed with white covers. In front of it is a leather settee, and to its right is a door leading to a room filled with paintings of lighthouses at night, the moon a silver globe in the distance.
Lu Han nears the bed, looking at the old man whose face is nearly obscured by the oxygen mask strapped to his face. The doctor on the other side of the bed hands him a clipboard, filled with their patient’s current stats.
“I’m Xiumin,” the doctor says as Lu Han skims the papers in his hand. “Junmyeon here was fine up until last week. Still up and walking around the backyard last week Monday, then fell ill Tuesday. His health spiralled down after that. Looks like he only has a day or two left.”
Lu Han watches Xiumin adjust the IV strap around the old man’s wrist, loosen the covers wrapped around him. Lu Han signs the last piece of paper on the clipboard, confirming that he has agreed to the Terms and Conditions and that it is all part of his job, that he must do his job no matter what.
“Sehun here, go sign,” Lu Han orders, handing the clipboard to the younger man currently fussing over the wirings of the machine, clipping this wire to that outlet, that outlet to this wire, red goes to red, blue goes to blue. He takes the clipboard, signs with a flourish, and goes back to work while Lu Han hands back the clipboard to Xiumin.
“So,” Lu Han starts, clears his throat. “What’s Junmyeon’s dream?”
Yixing ponders for a moment, eyes lightly trained on the small up and down movements of Junmyeon’s chest. “To go to the moon.”
“To go to the moon?” Lu Han repeats, eyes wide at the absurdity of the dream their current patient wants. “Go to the moon? Are you sure?”
Yixing nods his head vehemently. “Will you be able to help him?” Yixing asks, watching Sehun type lightning speed on the computer’s keypad, the backlight of its screen reflecting on the lens of the doctor’s black-rimmed glasses. “Will you be able to send him to the moon?”
“We’ll need to know his reason why he wants to go, though,” Sehun answers, throws an arm over his chair’s backrest, shifts in his seat so he faces the three. “We won’t be able to stimulate his dream without knowing what pushes him to want to go to the moon.”
“He never really told me anything.” Yixing fiddles with his fingers, taps them lightly on the wooden frame of the bed. “You see, he was a really quiet man. I never really got to know him much because he always either cooped himself inside his study or stayed morning ‘til afternoon by the cliff overlooking the lighthouse out back.”
“Well, it seems we have to look for the reason ourselves, Sehun.” Lu Han walks over to the settee placed in front of the bed, picks up a helmet Sehun set there. Lu Han lightly puts it on Junmyeon’s head, careful not to wake him, mindful not to startle him. Then Lu Han takes the other helmet left on the chaise, sits down and straps the contraption on his head.
“You ready?” Sehun asks once he’s finally good and ready to go, helmet firmly in place. Lu Han nods. Sehun turns to face Yixing and Xiumin, and says, “Please make sure his condition is stable. We won’t be able to do our work properly if he goes berserk all of a sudden.”
Sehun turns back to face the screen, types in the confirmation and the activation code. He looks at Lu Han, holds up three fingers. “On three, ok.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
☾
They’re inside the bedroom.
This time around it’s empty, the bed nicely and pristinely made, Junmyeon nowhere to be seen. They hear the soft presses of piano keys, two notes being played over and over again until it layers with the most porcelain sounding tilt as it rises in volume and fastens in tempo that flickers and melts into the cool dry air, lacing it with nostalgia and melancholia only a relived memory can give. The tune sounds familiar, like a far off dream, to Lu Han.
“Come on, we have to find Junmyeon,” Sehun says, ushering Lu Han down the staircase. When they arrive at the lounge room, they see the two kids, Kai and Tao playing the piano, laughing and giggling as the pace of the song fastens then slows. Sehun slowly opens the front door, creeps out and waits for Lu Han to do the same.
“Those kids are good,” Sehun says, breath visible in the frigid night. They walk around the side of the house, looking for Junmyeon. Lu Han hums in agreement, listens to his shoes crunch against the crisp fallen leaves that litter the ground. He looks up when he hears soft voices talking. In front of them, sitting by a bench, is Junmyeon. He has a plush toy on his lap, stroking it with dry, aged, and wrinkled hands. Standing beside him is Yixing who is coaxing him to go back inside the house.
“Come on, Junmyeoni,” Yixing croons, looping a hand around Junmyeon’s arm and tries to bring him to stand. “Let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
“Excuse me.” Lu Han looks at Sehun, startled at the latter’s sudden interruption. When he averts his attention back to Junmyeon, Lu Han sees warm almond eyes on his, recognition in his smile. Sehun didn’t even bother deactivating their visibility sensor.
“You’re from that company, right? I’ve been waiting for you both all day,” the old man tells them, leaning slightly on Yixing for support. He offers a weak smile, chapped lips parting open to reveal rows of white teeth still intact.
“Your company did call to say that people were already sent to come here.”
“Uh... Yes, we’re from EXO Corporations,” Lu Han confirms, smiling slightly at the older man out of politeness. “I’m Doctor Lu Han.”
“And I’m-ow what was that for?” Sehun demands, massaging his side. Lu Han comes closer, and whispers, “Do not try anything ok? We’re here to work.” He knows all too well the antics of his younger partner.
“I’m Doctor Oh Sehun,” he introduces, offers a slight bow in Junmyeon’s direction. “We’re here to make your dream come true.”
They watch as the old man’s face lights up, eyes twinkling under the shine of the moon. “You’ll take me to the moon?”
“But we need to know why you want to go to the moon first, in order for us to carry out our job.”
“I-I don’t know,” Junmyeon replies. “I don’t know why I want to go to the moon.”
Lu Han startles. “You don’t know why? But you must have some reason why you want to go there.”
Junmyeon slowly shakes his head from left to right, strands of grey hair whispering in the wind. “I don’t remember ever having a reason to go to the moon. Does this mean I won’t be able to go?”
“You’ll be able to go, of course!” Lu Han exclaims, trying to comfort the growingly upset man. It won’t do good to unsettle this Memory Junmyeon. “But we need to know why this is your dream. Will you allow us to go back through your memories?”
“You won’t be changing anything though, right? Nothing will be deleted?”
“We can’t guarantee that, sir. But we’ll try our best.”
They’re silent for a moment, Sehun and Lu Han standing behind the bench while Junmyeon and Yixing stand on the other side, the former using the latter’s arm as a bolster to keep himself up. They watch as Junmyeon’s emotions flash in his eyes, look as bursts of vivid colours claps through the nighttime sky. Harsh winds blow through the two doctors, makes Lu Han take three steps back to right himself from nearly falling. Then everything goes still and Junmyeon sags in Yixing’s hold. “Ok. Take me to the moon.”
☾
It’s a very rainy afternoon.
They find Junmyeon by a lighthouse, the very blue and yellow lighthouse visible from atop the cliff where the old man’s house stood. He stands before a black marble slab, holding an umbrella over it while he lets rainwater pelt down on his half-covered back.
“I’m turning off visibility and interactivity, ok?” Sehun says, presses rapidly on the touchpad in his hand. “You stay here while I go look for a leaping momento. It seems this memory and the memory before was only a week apart. We need to go at least half a year back.”
Lu Han watches as his foot suddenly turns transparent, and looks on as the transparency takes over his whole body until he’s just a milky silhouette, the rain going through him. Sehun goes off in search for the momento, leaving Lu Han alone with This Memory Junmyeon. He takes steps closer to the man and, when he’s about a metre away, listens to the words coming out of his mouth. His voice is soft and quiet, nearly drowned out by the pitter-patter of rain on the soil.
“I have a caretaker now,” Junmyeon says to the wind, voice heavy and tired. “He has two wonderful kids. I’m trying to teach them how to play the piano and it’s turning out good. They learned faster than you, did you know that?” Junmyeon’s laugh is a soft wheezing sound, tiny whistles of air leaving his lungs.
“It’s finished. I finally finished the house you wanted me to build. You never even got to see it. But I’ll be able to watch over her everyday, like you, from here. She’s finally ok, you know. She’s fine and beautiful and stunning, like how you wanted her to be. I...” Lu Han watches as Junmyeon straightens, still holding an umbrella over the epitaph, and looks up at the lighthouse. “I’ll never be far from you two now that I’m here. I can play for both of you; I’d leave the back door open and I’d play especially hard enough for you and Anya to hear.”
It hurts to watch Junmyeon struggle to kneel down, a hand grasping tightly on the engraved marble. His knees dig into the soft ground, the cold mudwater seeping into his slacks. “I miss you.” Tears build up in his eyes. “Nobody calls me Junmyeoni anymore. No one folds paper rabbits and tells stories about lighthouses anymore. I don’t understand-I might never understand why you made me do this, but I stayed true to my word. I made your wish come true, and I’m sure Anya’s grateful, too. But this didn’t need to happen. You didn’t need to do this. I could’ve done something, anything, for you. Why’d you have to be so selfish?”
Lu Han looks around for any signs of Sehun and, upon realising the younger man’s pretty much not here, turns on his visibility and interactivity. He deliberately moves into his patient’s sight, expecting the surprised expression on Junmyeon’s face when he looks up to ask, “Who are you?”
“I’m Lu Han, I was just passing by and I saw this beautiful lighthouse,” the doctor replies, gesturing at the tower behind him. He looks sympathisingly at the man, crouches down so they’re both at eye-level. “Was this person important to you?”
“He was my husband. His name was Kyungsoo.”
“That’s a wonderful name,” Lu Han compliments, watching the weak smile that unknowingly stretches Junmyeon’s lips. “He must’ve been a wonderful person, too.”
“He was,” Junmyeon sniffs, shuffles something buried deep in his coat. A Totoro plush. The same one Lu Han saw in the lounge room when they first arrived at the house. Junmyeon looks up at the lightening sky. The rain had dissolved into a frail drizzle. Lu Han turns off his visibility and interactivity. “He must be so happy up there.”
“Lu Han, let’s go,” Sehun calls out. He’s holding a music sheet in his hands, glowing the faintest azure under the light. “I found a leaping momento.”
☾
“After we pay for the operation, I’ll continue. We’ll have enough money for it.”
“Lies.”
Junmyeon is sitting down on a chair at the side of the bed, hands interlaced with the person lying down on the bed. There’s a Totoro toy placed on the person’s lap, an open book by his feet.
“I don’t like it when you lie, Junmyeoni.” The person plays with Junmyeon’s fingers, trembling digits tracing blue-green veins up and down the back of his palm. “I’m going to die anyway.”
“I don’t like it when you say that, Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon brings their hands up to his face, presses Kyungsoo’s hands to his cheek. “You will get better.”
“I’m not signing the papers.”
“You will, Kyungsoo, you have to.”
“I’ve seen the computation for the finances, Junmyeon,” Kyungsoo says, finality and resignation slipping from his tongue. “You and I both know it won’t cut.”
“We’ll find a way,” Junmyeon reasons out. “I can stop the construction for a while, save up-”
“Why do keep on convincing me against my will?”
“We have to pay for the medical bills!” Junmyeon’s voice is raised, desperation in the cracks of his words. Why won’t Kyungsoo understand? He buries his face in their hands, voice shuddering as he says, “I don’t want you to die. I don’t want to lose you, Kyungsoo. I can lose everything just not you. Never you.”
Kyungsoo sits up a little from the bed, skin pallid and lips ghostly pale and chapped in this light. He takes Junmyeon’s face in his hands, strokes away the tears that tangle in his eyelashes. “And I don’t want you to abandon us. Do you know what makes me happy? Do you? Well, I do. And this is what I want, Junmyeoni. I want you to finish the house, and be with Anya. You’ll be able to see her, talk to her, and comfort her. You can play all the beautiful music to her and make her happy. Make me happy.”
Kyungsoo presses featherlight kisses atop Junmyeon’s closed eyelids. A single tear falls on Junmyeon’s cheek. When he pulls away he sees tears brimming Kyungsoo’s eyes, a quivery smile on his lips. Junmyeon leans up to kiss those lips, soft and innocent and short. He pulls away, pushing back the chair he’s sitting on before standing up.
“I wrote a song for you,” Junmyeon says, “and I want you to hear it.” He makes his way to the grand piano situated at the side of the room, lifts up the lid covering polished ivory and ebony keys.
“You didn’t need to have the piano brought up here, you know,” Kyungsoo smilingly comments, sinking his back deeper into the pillows as Junmyeon starts playing. “I would’ve heard you just fine from downstairs if you left the door open. You know I’ll always leave the door open for you.” It’s a soothing tune that goes up and down and here and there, and it reminds Kyungsoo of sunshine and warmth and happiness and contentment and simplicity. Kyungsoo closes his eyes as the tinkling notes continue to flow.
“I want you to hear it firsthand. I want to see your face light up like it does now.” Junmyeon lets his hands take the lead, the melody sailing in the room. He watches as Kyungsoo’s breathing evens out, the faint tilt of his lips upward still shadowing his face. “The title is For Kyungsoo.”
☾
“The house is... half-missing.” Sehun looks around the wooden skeleton of a house in front of them.
Lu Han scoffs. “No shit, Sherlock.” Lu Han barely notices himself becoming opalescent.
They go around to the front porch and they see Junmyeon sitting down on the grass, fanning himself as he stretches his legs. He’s much younger here, around his mid-30’s, hair a weathered brown with streaks of grey at the sides. They hear a rustle and there by the trail is a man making his way towards Junmyeon, a jar of pickled mangoes in his hand.
“Hey, Junmyeon, I heard about Kyungsoo,” the man says as he approaches, sitting next to Junmyeon on the pile of plywood. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s ok. The doctor said it’s still treatable, but the bills,” Junmyeon runs a hand over his face, “we can barely make through with his treatments. I don’t think our savings can keep up with paying for his therapy and the constructions for this house. I could stop the building of the house and focus on making him better, but he’ll never hear it. I know it. This place is too special for him. He’d be heartbroken if he finds out. I-I don’t know anymore, Baekhyun.”
“What will you tell him then? You know you can’t keep this from him forever.”
“I’ll tell him,” Junmyeon sighs, “everything’s going to be ok. That we can make it.”
“You’d be lying to him and you know it.”
“And I’d be doing it because I love him.” Junmyeon turns to face Baekhyun, and Baekhyun thinks he looks so tired, not just the ordinary tired but the bone-deep tiredness that withers all the spirit and the soul from his friend. “I’m not letting him die.”
“You should just let him be, Junmyeon. What if what he wants is for you to finish this house and not pull through with the treatments? Just because we have the same condition doesn’t mean we think the same, Junmyeon. Kris may have forced me into taking the treatments, but that doesn’t mean you can force Kyungsoo, too.” Baekhyun reasons. “Don’t you want to think about what he wants?”
“What about what I want? Can’t I be selfish just once?” Junmyeon stands up and paces. “Ever since he started folding those damned paper rabbits, I feel like I’m doing something wrong. And whenever he hands one to me and asks ‘What is this?’ with that beautiful voice of his, and I always answer the same thing: ‘a rabbit’; the heartbreak that flashes in his face makes me feel like the worst person in the world. He looks at me with those moon eyes of his and it’s like he’s waiting for me to say something, wanting me to say something, and I feel like I owe him something, but I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”
“He has problems expressing what he feels, Junmyeon. It’s a part of our condition. It’s just that Kyungsoo got diagnosed at a late stage, and you knew that! Don’t tell me you’re giving up? He just needs to be understood.”
“But I can’t let Kyungsoo die, Baekhyun,” Junmyeon says, voice laced with resolve. He picks up a stack of plywood and hauls it over his shoulder, enters the empty foundations of the house. “I still owe him a wish.” Baekhyun follows Junmyeon with sad eyes.
Lu Han watches as Sehun picks up a small slab of rock, white and smooth around the edges, realises it’s another leaping momento the moment it glows in Sehun’s grip.
☾
“She looks so beautiful,” Kyungsoo breathes as he looks up at the lighthouse in front of him, shakes the hand holding Junmyeon’s, making him look up at the lighthouse as well. “Why did they leave her alone and uncared for like this?”
Junmyeon thinks for a reply, a reasonable one to placate Kyungsoo’s feelings, erase the frown creasing his forehead. “Maybe because she’s not needed anymore. By ships, I mean.”
“Not... needed?” Kyungsoo looks from Junmyeon to the lighthouse, Junmyeon then back again at the lighthouse. “How can people not need her?”
“Well, ships don’t really dock here anymore and, with the fast progressing technology, ships have GPS that can guide them. Some captains think GPS is better than lighthouses.”
“So they abandon her?” Kyungsoo asks, pulling his hand away from Junmyeon’s hold. “Because people think she’s useless?”
Junmyeon focuses on the darkening of Kyungsoo’s face, the way his innocent eyes stare distressingly at the abandoned lighthouse, tears accumulating there. His emotions show on his beautiful face, genuine and true and Junmyeon knows that this is how Kyungsoo really is: sensitive, fragile, feeling, and lovely. But of all the things that he hates, it’s seeing Kyungsoo cry.
“Hey,” Junmyeon calls, placing a hand at the small of Kyungsoo’s back, offers as much comfort as he can, the way he always has after all these years. “You know, I just got a raise at work. And as of yet, everything’s been pretty stable. I was thinking...”
“What do you mean?” Kyungsoo inquires, shrugging away from Junmyeon’s half-embrace, wipes the tears away from his face. “What are you trying to say?”
“What I’m trying to say is,” Junmyeon moves forward and takes the piece of paper taped to the entrance door of the lighthouse, and hands it to Kyungsoo, “I could buy this place for you. I could have a house built here for you, and for Anya. You’ll never be far away from her, ever again. What do you say?”
He eyes the way Kyungsoo’s hands start to shake, grip tightening on the land contract Junmyeon handed to him, the way tears form in his moon eyes yet again. “No, no, please don’t cry, Kyungsoo. I’m sorry, don’t cry anymore-I made you upset again. Love-”
Junmyeon doesn’t get the chance to finish what he was saying for Kyungsoo’s already launched himself at him, arms thrown around Junmyeon’s neck, grasping tightly as if he’s a buoy, a lifeline he has to hold onto. Tears slide down his collarbones as Kyungsoo sobs and laughs into his skin. Junmyeon wraps his arms around Kyungsoo while Kyungsoo sort of jumps in his arms, blubbering happily.
“You mean it? You really do?” Kyungsoo brings his head up to look at Junmyeon and the hope and the spark in his eyes is enough for Junmyeon to say, “Yes, yes. This is yours, all yours.”
He beams down at Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo reaches up to thread his fingers in Junmyeon’s hair, pulls him close to press a kiss to his lips and it’s wonderful and beautiful and stunning and perfect. He lets Kyungsoo pepper him with kisses: from the corners of his mouth, the bows of his thin upper lip, to his pink lower lip before sealing his mouth over Junmyeon’s, eyes firmly closed, smiling into Junmyeon’s lips.
“We’ll be able to see her from the window! We can watch over her morning, noon, and night, and we’ll-or you will-be able to play the piano for her, and sing to her.” Kyungsoo’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight, his excitement evident in the flush of his cheeks, his tight grip on Junmyeon’s arms. Junmyeon thinks he’s done the greatest thing on this planet, that maybe he must’ve saved mankind in another life to deserve Kyungsoo in this one.
“Yeah,” Junmyeon promises. “We will.”
☾
The next memory they arrive in is a room filled with paper rabbits, the floor littered with folded papers, an array of white covering the beige carpet.
“What is this,” Sehun breathes out as he looks around the room, eyes constantly monitoring his touchpad for any signs of a leaping momento. “Do they have an affinity for rabbits or something?”
“Whatever, Sehun.” Lu Han makes his way to the door, taking note that this is the Before House, the house where Junmyeon and Kyungsoo stayed in before Junmyeon had the chance to finish the blue house for Kyungsoo. “What do you think of this case, so far?”
“I don’t know, really,” Sehun mumbles, fingers sliding on the screen, glasses flashing green, “One of those sappy love stories, I guess. Poor guy though, built a house and never got around to showing the finished thing to his love because he died.”
Lu Han gasps in mock surprise. “Wow, I never thought you were a cynic.” He jumps down the last three steps, surveys the area for any signs of Junmyeon or Kyungsoo, or both. “Where are they?”
Sehun taps some more. “Over there.” He points at a half-open door in the open kitchen. They make their way towards the door and when they got in, they’re welcomed by more than two dozen folded paper rabbits scattered all over the floor, on top of bookcases, placed all over the desk where Kyungsoo’s currently working... on a paper rabbit.
“Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo, look at me.”
Junmyeon stands amidst the sea of white, feet toeing the ears of one rabbit on the floor. Junmyeon moves the rabbit to the side, moves closer towards the desk. “Kyungsoo, what are you doing?”
“Folding.” Kyungsoo runs his fingernail along a fold, opens it then tears it ever so carefully, fingers nimble, dainty, and sure.
“I know, you’ve finished two reams already,” Junmyeon replies. “There isn’t even enough room in the house for them. Even the lantern room is filled with them.”
Kyungsoo lifts his head up to look at Junmyeon and Junmyeon’s breath sort of hitches in his throat. Kyungsoo’s hair is shorter now, soft fringe covering his whole forehead. The ends curl around behind his ears and his nape, making him look younger and frailer. Junmyeon feels something stir inside him, like déjà vu, like he’s seen him like this before but where.
“You cut your hair.” Junmyeon struggles for something anything to say, to ask. It’s getting hard-it always was hard-to understand Kyungsoo and, it seems, Kyungsoo doesn’t want to be helped. And it’s making Junmyeon all the more panicky. “Are you ok, Kyungsoo?”
“Come here.” Kyungsoo reaches out to grab Junmyeon’s hand, tugs him around the desk so he’s beside him. Junmyeon crouches down, steadying himself on one knee in front of Kyungsoo. He watches curiously as Kyungsoo places a paper rabbit in the hand he’s currently holding, reaches for Junmyeon’s other hand and makes him cup the rabbit in his palms.
“Do you know what that is, Junmyeoni?” Kyungsoo asks softly, eyes hopefully trained on Junmyeon’s face.
“It’s... a paper rabbit?” Junmyeon answers. Kyungsoo mayhaps looked disappointed but it disappeared so fast Junmyeon’s not sure if it really showed in the first place. But Kyungsoo nods his head, and follows, “And? What else?”
“It’s blue?” then Junmyeon adds, “And the rabbit’s tummy’s yellow?” Junmyeon sighs in frustration when Kyungsoo’s frown deepens, eyes leaving Junmyeon’s face. He turns his face away from Junmyeon and proceeds to take a piece of white paper, starts to fold another paper rabbit. Junmyeon places the piece of intricately folder paper on the desk and makes to stand. “Look, Kyungsoo..”
Then Kyungsoo’s hand freezes in place, Junmyeon halts from trying to stand up. Lu Han watches as Sehun makes his way towards Kyungsoo, reaching out for Kyungsoo’s immobile hand. Lu Han walks over to where Sehun is, latches onto Sehun’s lab coat after he slips off the silver band from Kyungsoo’s finger, activates the momento, and transports them to a distant memory.
☾
“Do you feel different,” Junmyeon asks, “now that we’re wearing the rings and everything?”
Lu Han watches from behind the tree a young Junmyeon and a young Kyungsoo, both wearing tuxedos. Junmyeon’s hair is dyed a shade of apple red, slicked back and shining against the sinking sun. He’s wearing a black suit with a bowtie as red as his hair, a smile that reaches his ears. Kyungsoo’s wearing a pristine, white tuxedo, wildflowers tucked inside his breastpocket. They’re both sitting down on the grass, leaning against the base of the lighthouse. “I don’t think so. Should I?”
“I don’t know either. But I do feel different, somewhat.” Junmyeon brings his legs up, rests his elbows on his knees. He looks at Kyungsoo. “A good different.”
Kyungsoo smiles at Junmyeon then turns his gaze heavenward. “What do you think of the name Anya?” Junmyeon’s smile falters, dims a little. He’s confused. Was Kyungsoo even listening to him? Then it clicks. Kyungsoo shifts in his seat, hands on the soft earth. “Should we call her Anya?”
And Junmyeon thinks that Kyungsoo deserves to be happy, all the happiness in the world. Now that they’re married and that everything’s different, nothing really matters anymore. Nothing but Kyungsoo. “Yeah,” Junmyeon nods. “Anya’s the perfect name for her.”
“Did you hear that?” Kyungsoo laughs, looking up at the lit-up lighthouse, a beacon of light shooting out of its tip and roaming out at the waves like a spotlight. “You’re Anya now. A beautiful name for the most beautiful lighthouse in the world.” Junmyeon may never know why this place is so important to Kyungsoo, but that’s ok. As long as he’s happy, everything’s alright.
“Hey, come with me.” Junmyeon stands up abruptly, brushes off the grass from his slacks. Then he offers a hand to Kyungsoo, helps him up, and proceeds to drag him up the spiral staircase of the lighthouse, peals of laughter echoing in the tower.
Junmyeon pushes open the door, and enters the room where they store the lighthouse lamp. The place is illuminated, their shadows projected on the walls, tall and big compared to them.
“Would you mind giving me this dance?” Junmyeon asks, a hand, palm open, offered in front of Kyungsoo.
“But you don’t know how to dance, silly,” Kyungsoo laughs, but places his hand on Junmyeon’s anyway. Their hands feel so right laced together, like puzzle pieces clicking into place, like the stars in a constellation that guides a wanderer home. Junmyeon’s movements are clumsy and ungraceful, feet tumbling and avoiding stepping on Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo giggles while Junmyeon struggles, eyes morphed into crescents. Junmyeon hums a light happy tune under his breath, twirls and twirls Kyungsoo around until they’re both dizzy.
Junmyeon sways them to the left, then the right, creating a smooth oscillating rhythm that harmonises with the synchronised beating of their hearts, and the whirring of the moving clockwork gears as the beacon rotates. It’s soothing, and when Kyungsoo leans into him and rests his head on his chest, hand stroking the fine hairs on his nape softly and lovingly, Junmyeon decides that it’s all worth it. He burrows his nose deeper into Kyungsoo’s hair, inhales him in, remembers the scent of sunshine and light, wildflowers and grass, happiness and care. Loving Kyungsoo is worth it.
“Well,” Sehun says as he runs down the stairs two steps at a time, “the momento’s not there. We have to go down.” Sehun leads the way back down the cliff, making a beeline for the trail.
“Wait, how can we find a momento down here if Junmyeon’s up there?” Lu Han asks while he jogs next to Sehun, keeping in pace with the younger.
“There’s another memory linked to this one. And it appears to be important.” Sehun turns, and reaches a clearing where there are clothed tables and chairs, food and drinks and people. The reception. “Or at least it will help us with our job.”
“Congratulations, man!” a person greets, bumping his shoulders with Junmyeon’s. Junmyeon laughs and engulfs the man in a hug.
“Thanks, Kris. For coming and for the support and everything. You too, Baekhyun.” Baekhyun wraps his hand around Kris’s bicep, nods at Junmyeon and Kyungsoo. “Anything for you guys.”
An old lady squeezes her way through the crowd and stops in front of Junmyeon and Kyungsoo.
“I have to go, your aunt and I still have a long way to travel,” she says as she approaches. She holds out her hands and Junmyeon takes them, and kisses them lightly. Kyungsoo hugs her.
“Take care on the way home, ma,” Junmyeon cautions, squeezing him mother’s wrinkled hand. She looks back at him, an unstable, unsure smile on her lips. Her sagged skin crinkles around the forehead and nose, tears spring up her eyes. She taps Junmyeon’s hands and he lets go. Before she leaves she reminds Junmyeon, “I’m so proud of you, Suho.”
“Suho?” Kris asks, looking at the old lady’s retreating figure. “Why did she call you Suho?”
“Oh, that,” Junmyeon trails off. He plays with the silver band on his ring finger, traces the blue-green vein that travels up and down there. “That was my grandpa’s name. He died when I was little. My mum calls me that as a nickname because she said I reminded her of grandpa so much.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Baekhyun pipes up. He shoves a spoonful of mango cake in Kris’s waiting mouth, and continues, “After all those years in high school and college, only now we found out?”
“I wanted you guys to call me Junmyeon,” he answers. “Besides, do I look like a Suho?”
“No,” Kyungsoo mutters. They all fall silent, eyes on Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo’s always been the silent type, never talking, never making a sound. They all understand that it’s a part of who he is, but this is a first. “You look like a Junmyeon.”
“My Junmyeon.”
☾
“It’s curable. The sickness was diagnosed at a late stage but we can treat it.”
Lu Han looks around the setting and he’s in a clinic, and there’s a doctor in front of him. Kyungsoo and Junmyeon sit facing each other, listening to Dr. Park Chanyeol intently.
“Pervasive Developmental Disorders should’ve been detected at an early age so the patient could’ve been treated. Kyungsoo seems like his condition is pretty much under control and that’s a good thing,” Chanyeol assures. He takes out a book, sets it in between the couple. “Here’s a book that explains everything about Kyungsoo’s condition and the treatments we will be going through.”
Kyungsoo quietly picks up the book and flits through it. Chanyeol turns to Junmyeon and asks, “Are you his spouse?”
Junmyeon’s about to nod when Kyungsoo suddenly interrupts, voice soft, “No. No legal affiliations.”
“Oh,” Chanyeol responds. Junmyeon looks intently at Kyungsoo who goes back to silently reading. Chanyeol continues, “During therapies, Kyungsoo will need all the assurance and help he will need. It would be best if the people around him would offer him support and handholding. It will most definitely fasten his recovery.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Junmyeon says, picks up Kyungsoo’s Totoro toy from the floor, and exits with Kyungsoo.
“It’s still here,” Sehun incredulously whispers underneath his breath. “The damned toy is everywhere.”
“Shut up.” Lu Han is confused and Sehun’s comments aren’t helping. So Kyungsoo has a pervasive developmental disorder. Why did Junmyeon even continue with everything? How come none of the events were making sense? And what could have triggered Junmyeon’s want to become an astronaut to go to the moon?
Kyungsoo sits down at the waiting area while he waits for Junmyeon to come back from the receptionist. When Junmyeon comes back he sees Kyungsoo playing with a loose string around Totoro’s chest, head down and legs brought up to his chest. When Junmyeon kneels down in front of Kyungsoo, cups his chin and lifts up so their eyes meet, Junmyeon knows. Kyungsoo’s scared and nervous and anxious. He’s sad, and Junmyeon hurts for him because he knows Kyungsoo will never say what he feels out loud. Junmyeon leans in, lets Kyungsoo’s forehead rest on top of his.
“I will still marry you, Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon whispers against Kyungsoo’s lips. “No matter what happens, I’ll never leave you.”
“How do you know? You’ll leave in the future.” Kyungsoo accuses. And all of a sudden tears are dripping onto Junmyeon’s cheeks and Kyungsoo’s eyelashes are matted and wet with sparkles. “You’ll forget me again anyway.”
“No, I won’t,” Junmyeon argues, not quite getting what Kyungsoo’s saying. He hugs Kyungsoo tight, brings his head to his chest in an effort to comfort him. “I’ll never forget you. And I’ll never leave you alone, ever.” Because the last thing he wants to do is desert Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo shakes his head back and forth against Junmyeon’s chest. Lu Han feels his stomach sink when he sees this, when he feels the familiar tingling that comes with travelling back using a leaping momento.
☾
“Where’s he going?” Sehun asks around a mouth full of popcorn. He’s pointing at a Teenager Junmyeon that’s rising from his seat and making his way towards the theatre exit.
“Why are you even eating here, you moron,” Lu Han snaps. He hits Sehun’s shoulder and stands up, dragging Sehun with him. When they exit the theatre, they see Junmyeon leaning against the wall, cheeks puffed out, holding his breath. He slowly blows the air out, his fringe fluttering at the movement.
“Where are you?” Junmyeon mumbles, foot kicking at the linoleum floors, rubber shoes squeaking at the friction. The hallway’s deserted, not a single person in sight. “I thought I told you Saturday, 8 PM.” Junmyeon slumps back against the wall in frustration, ruffles his hair with his hand.
“Who do you think he’s waiting for?” Sehun asks. “Is the main lead Junmyeon secretly a loner?”
Lu Han glares. “What do you think this is, a movie?”
“What? It’s teenage angst. And it seems better than the tacky movie being shown inside. Who the hell wants to watch a story about a vampire falling for a human girl? What’s the sense in that?”
“You are so shallow sometimes,” Lu Han huffs. “I think I know who he’s waiting for, though.”
“Who?” They hear a screeching sound. They both turn to look at the theatre entrance and there, they see exiting is Kyungsoo. Junmyeon looks up and abruptly stands in surprise, mouth open in astonishment.
“Kyungsoo!” Junmyeon exclaims. Kyungsoo flinches at the volume of his voice, and Junmyeon claps a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. Ears red, he says much quieter, “I thought you didn’t come. I was waiting for you at the entrance and then the movie started I thought maybe you were inside but I didn-”
“Why did you leave?” Kyungsoo asks him, eyes wide. “I thought you wanted to watch the movie together?”
Junmyeon stops, looks at Kyungsoo with confusion written all over his face. “I did, and I was waiting fo-”
“But we were already watching the movie together, right? Same time and date and place and everything. Do you not want to watch with me?”
Junmyeon stares at the innocence of Kyungsoo’s face, the petulant pout on his mouth that’s inching into a frown, the slight furrow of his eyebrows, the shine of his doe eyes. Then Junmyeon laughs, hand covering his mouth. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows scrunch together tightly.
“You’re so weird! But I do want to watch it with you, Kyungsoo. Because I like you.” Junmyeon smiles at Kyungsoo, and walks towards the theatre entrance. He stops, and holds out a hand to Kyungsoo. He watches Kyungsoo shift a Totoro plushie in one hand, using his other one to meet Junmyeon’s halfway. Junmyeon tugs and Kyungsoo follows. “Come on.”
☾
“Dude, of all the people in this school,” Kris demands, long limbs flailing in the air to emphasise his point, “you just had to pick the weird one?”
Junmyeon stops pinning the papers on the bulletin board in the hallways, and turns to give a pointed look at his best friend. “Excuse you, but the ‘weird one’ happens to be friends with your ‘weird one’.”
“Hey, Baekhyun’s not weird.” Kris leans against the glass of the trophy case behind him, thinks of a suiting word to describe his boyfriend. “He’s just special.”
“Then Kyungsoo’s like that, too, except he’s a lot shyer.” Junmyeon concludes, closing the bulletin board’s glass casing with a soft click. “It’s just that... I don’t know how to ask him out.”
“Why don’t you just approach him, man? Ask him out for a date.”
“I can’t what if I scare him off?” Junmyeon bites on a cuticle, turns right. He spots Kyungsoo by the fire exit, sitting on the steps with a Totoro stuffed toy beside him. Junmyeon eyes him uneasily from five doors down. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he says yes but he really just wants to say no?”
“Stop overthinking and just go over there and talk to him.” Kris shoves Junmyeon when he’s about three doors away. “Fighting, Junmyeon!”
Junmyeon straightens his tie, approaches quietly the figure hunched over a tome.
“Hi Kyungsoo.” Junmyeon waits for Kyungsoo to do anything, look up at him or something. “Kyung... soo?”
Kyungsoo lifts his head up slowly, eyes meeting Junmyeon’s hesitantly. His hands unconsciously tighten around the book in his hands. “Junmyeon-ssi?”
“Oh, just call me Junmyeon, or whatever you want,” Junmyeon replies, hand waving in front of his face before resting at his nape, nervously scratching at the skin there. “Um... What are you reading?”
Seconds of silence pass, and Junmyeon debates whether he should repeat his question or not. When he’s about to open his mouth, he gets interrupted by Kyungsoo’s mellow voice answering, “A book about lighthouses.”
“Oh that’s cool, I guess. That toy’s cool, too.”
Kyungsoo looks down at the grey plush toy sitting beside him, and a cross between a smile and a frown decorates his lips. “Yeah. It’s Totoro.”
“Um, hey, Kyungsoo?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you.. you know, maybe, want to catch-watch a movie together?” Junmyeon asks. Then he adds, “W-with me?”
“But we don’t have a date and time.”
“How about Saturday, 8 PM?” Junmyeon mentally crosses his fingers and toes and legs, hoping he says yes, please say yes. Kyungsoo’s looking at him intently, as if he’s waiting for him to say something more, to add more words to his proposition. Junmyeon feels like he has something to say too, like something more to add but he’s too nervous, too caught up with what Kyungsoo might say.
“Sure.” And the smile that Kyungsoo offers him is enough to send him to Cloud 9. When he bows, says thank you, and scuttles away, he practically skips all the way to his homeroom class, happiness bubbling in his stomach. But he can’t help but feel a sense of unease, that feeling you get when you know you’re forgetting something but you just don’t know what.
But Junmyeon shrugs it off, continues to answer his seatwork with a grin plastered on his face.
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