The Nine Lives of Kim Heechul
Title: The Nine Lives of Kim Heechul
Characters: Heechul-centric ,Kyuhyun, Leeteuk, Kangin, Donghae, Sungmin, Siwon, Kibum
Pairings: KyuChul, cameo-Kangteuk
Rating: R
Genre: AU,Drama, Angst, Romance
Type: One-shot (or rather, long-shot) in two parts
Word Count: 5,611
Warning: Character death
Disclaimer: I own many things, but unfortunately Super Junior isn't one of them.
A/N : Had to split it into two parts 'cause it's apparently too large for lj.
Summary:
Kim Heechul always thought himself as special. His good looks, of course, are undebatable. But that's not the only thing that makes him so. Sit back as the man himself takes you through the story of not only one, but nine of his lives; one in which he meets someone he didn’t quite thought was to die for, but literally, died for.
A/N 2 : Words in italics are either dialogues or flashbacks. Enjoy XD
The Nine Lives of Kim Heechul
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid your baby’s not going to make it.”
The doctor’s voice could not be anymore monotonous, sympathy not being something taught in med school.
It was the first time it happened.
You were just fresh out of your mother’s womb; just a mere two more months and you’d be a full-fledged baby. Yet somehow you chose to crawl out earlier and make your presence known in this small part of Earth called Kangwon-do, Korea. Perhaps it was hats off to your infamous impatience and bad temper that followed you throughout your whole life.
You were born with a lung collapsed atop itself that tenth morning of the seventh month; chances of survival were estimated to be as thin as a spider’s thread. Your weakened mother prayed hard, or maybe a little too hard. Somehow, you miraculously pulled through.
It’s a miracle, your grandmother pompously proclaimed that fateful day. The others couldn’t agree more that it was nothing short of one.
---
The second time it happened someone had mistakenly left the front door open.
You, a quiet child of merely five years, were playing on your own a few feet away, having just only discovered the pretty marbles your older sister had left at home. While she stayed at your grandmother’s, you stayed home with your mother who was usually too busy cooking or taking phone calls for possible business opportunities; mirages, because they were never really there.
That peaceful afternoon your then-unemployed father rushed out into his car while fixing on an old decent tie, jumping at the first call for interview in over three months. From on top of the neighbour’s wall sat a black cat eyeing you unblinkingly while you rolled the marbles around with your small hands in fascination. Even at that small age you knew you had a special bond with cats. It was a peaceful day.
Your father was on the phone confirming the venue of the interview when he thought he heard a thud from behind.
Lucky for him, his wheel had only caught slightly on his little boy’s leg, crimson trickling like veins down the driveway and disappearing onto the dark colour of tar. When your mother rushed out to see what had happened, she couldn’t even scream.
That year you spent the whole summer on a miniature wheelchair, something your prideful self -even as a child- was proud of, viewing it as something to be envious of by your naïve little nursery friends, because it made you feel big for once; like you were a Transformer machine. You figured you didn’t even like running anyway, but it sure irked you when the teacher had to wheel you everywhere.
---
The third time you brush shoulders with Death again was when you were ten; stubborn little kid who refused to listen, secretly sliding down the steep slippery slopes on old mats with mischievous friends. That winter you sported a fractured shoulder and a big bump on the head, unable to join the story-telling competition you had eyes on since fourth grade started.
But in return your mother finally allowed a cat in the house. It was then you realized that cats really do talk, just not to and in front of others; in a language only audible to your ears.
You named him Heebum - after yourself because how could your first cat not have a part of your name- and Kibum, a childhood friend from seemingly a long time ago, whom nobody else spoke of again but you clearly remember playing with when you were younger.
It was only later that you fished it out cleverly from your mother that he had died when he was only five, from a bee sting allergy in his own garden.
You asked Heebum nicely one night if Kibum was okay in Heaven -the cat liked to be treated with much respect- and with a cool stare your cat tells you that there is no Heaven, and that the little dongsaeng was now enjoying his time playing in the Gardens, chasing bees and butterflies in the evenings.
---
And then there was the evening on the eve of your 12th birthday. You nearly choked to death after attempting to swallow a boiled egg whole as a dare from the local bully, Kangin -a nickname he gave himself because Kim Youngwoon was such a weakling’s name- who was really just all brawn and not much brains.
You wouldn’t have been lucky enough to make it through this time if it weren’t for Leeteuk -you figured the bully must’ve had something good in that big frame to earn such a kind-hearted friend- who immediately called for help when your milky white skin was starting to turn maroon, eyes rolling backwards. Somehow the three of you hit it off not long afterwards and Kangin mellowed down much, to the delight of his closest hyung.
When you finally awoke from your blackout, you somehow wished you didn’t. When your mother once again prayed so hard beside the hospital bed of her accident-prone son, a strange voice spoke to you from the back of your mind telling you that you’ve been blessed with Nine lives.
When you woke up screaming the number ‘nine’ hysterically, your mother enveloped you tightly in her arms, too afraid to let go. Through gasps and sobs you told her what you heard in your mind but she took no heed at the moment, only crying along when nurses rushed in with all sorts of meds to calm you down.
Not very long after you went home, you realized your mother was lying when she told you that it was just a nightmare. Everyone at home danced around you like you were going to break into a million shards of glass any time soon. You hated the feeling of being held at home like a prisoner; you hated that stare your own sister gives you every time you come into the room. You wanted to be free like before; the liberty to be able to do whatever you want.
However, you know without a doubt you didn’t hate your parents for it. If it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. You know you are grateful to them, but this so-called protection they were giving you under this roof was just too suffocating and you knew you just had to get out of the place that didn’t felt like home anymore. You were like a ticking bomb anyway. Nobody knows when you’ll finally go off, but you will; surely and steadily. You knew very well your mother -or anyone else, for that matter- could do nothing to stop it.
Well, at least when it happens you could save her the pain from seeing you expire.
As you sifted through the dump that was your room one midnight, you pack out the things meaningful enough in your seventeen years of living so far to bring along but you realized there isn’t much really. In your head you silently counted the number of times you nearly died, carrying Heebum up in one hand and a medium-sized backpack slung up the other.
One (you figured that time during birth counted too), two, three, four… and then the last time when you were nearly electrocuted from a faulty switch even when you did hid at home last year, except for school and hanging out secretly with Leeteuk and Kangin.
That would make it another four more lives to go. You flipped your phone open in the dark as you leave the letter on your table. Peering around one last time, you popped open your window into the vast darkness outside. Leeteuk and Kangin were waiting for you rather impatiently at the bus station; the only two people in the world who didn’t think you were a madcap when you told them you’re no different from a cat.
“You have nine lives? NINE?”
Kangin’s eyes look like they were about to pop out of their sockets. Leeteuk just tilts his head and makes that puffy-cheeked-thinking face which showed off his perfect dimples. You nod proudly as the three of you walked home from school that one evening.
“You should just grow some fur and yellow eyes then!” Kangin sneers and walked ahead the two of you. You were happy that you succeeded at making the bigger boy jealous. Leeteuk, on the other hand, looked a bit worried.
“You take care of them, okay? Hyung will help you too.”
It’s been two years and counting since you moved out from home (Ran away? Oh please, Kim Heechul doesn’t run) along with two other friends, whom you now share an apartment with in outskirts Seoul. By now you’ve gotten used to living without rules and boundaries, letting your own Wants become the bible of your life, but within your own limits still. You figured why tie yourself within society’s standards? You won’t be a part of it for long anyway.
Leeteuk would always try to talk you out of things with his boring lectures but you both know that they bounce off your ears like a reflective screen. You never stop warning him that if he doesn’t stop talking like an old man, he would very much age before his time. And that was painting you a bad image because you two were only nine days apart.
But you’re pretty much sure you’d die before you become one; you just don’t talk about it to him because you know the man would just put the blame on himself for not being good enough of a hyung, which you knew without a doubt was plain bullshit. You wish you could tell Kangin to just confess to him straight in the face, in hope that the vibrant youth energy would rub it off him.
And also because you wanted to see that blush on your only hyung’s face the first time they kiss and tease him about it…before you go. As selfish as you admitted yourself to be, you wanted happiness for those care about you… and vice versa.
---
A job at a local company as the office boy didn’t pay much but with qualifications as limited as yours, you knew you should be thankful to find a job. You were someone who gives up easily but if you were determined to achieve something, nothing could stop you. A part-time job at the comic store and PC bang didn’t earn you much as well, but at least you were in places you rather enjoyed. That way you could still attend short classes and have a considerably full stomach at the end of the day.
The first time you met him it was also around the sixth time you almost died in the twenty five years of your life.
Initially he was nothing special -even until many years later you still wonder what he really means to you -just another average, sleep-deprived kid who spent both money and time excessively on computer games at the PC bang you worked at. He had tousled brown hair, single eyelids that were slightly funny to look at even many times after, dehydrated and pimply teenager skin, and almost always sported that cheeky grin you feel like throwing a punch at each time it was there.
You smirk to yourself each time he came. If there really was a God (you had given up a long time ago to find faith, despite the good-willed efforts of a local kid named Siwon who wouldn’t stop trying to convert you each time he met you), then you figured that the big guy up there was really fair. You were blessed with beautiful milky-white skin and big eyes that even girls were envious of; surely you wouldn’t have the chance to live very long, practically speaking, despite having nine lives. It would be good if you had a chance of passing those great genes to the next generation, but frankly you knew there aren’t much chances of it.
The kid was cocky and disrespectful; refusing to call you hyung even though you were a whole five years older than he was. He had this cheeky demeanor which seemed to drive you up the wall despite your own efforts to convince yourself not to bother about it.
That night he was there at the back in his usual place, shouting random things like ‘shoot! shoot!’ and ‘darn you, move faster!’ and not forgetting ‘urghhhh!’, and with that you knew that it wasn’t a good night for him. Despite how much he irked you, his soulful voice was surprisingly soothing to your ears when he isn’t shouting like a mad man. At the back of your mind you decide that surely it would sound great in a song, but you kick yourself mentally for having such random thoughts.
You eyed him warily from behind the counter as he finally stood up from his place -the last customer of the night- looking as if he had just lost the love of his life. Although you didn’t have the luxury of playing games as much, but you knew that in the gaming world Starcraft wasn’t the only game available. He shot you a disgruntled look as he sauntered out, heaving a sigh along the way. Switching off the last computer and lights, you headed out as well and locked up the doors.
It was then you saw flashing headlights whirling his way on the deserted sidewalk out of nowhere.
Without a thought you ran forward, something within urging you to push the kid out of the way and you did. You were amazed at how just in time you were to shove his lanky frame out of danger (you were obviously not very athletic), both of you crashing to the side of the road, causing some cats to shriek and sprint out of the way. A car laid smoking in the opposite direction, badly smashed up on the front into a fire hydrant which burst into a delightful fountain of dew, car alarm ringing incessantly loud in the dark.
“You’re bleeding!”
He sounded so worried you wanted to laugh but tasted iron instead. You smirked in return despite feeling light-headed from bumping into the wall. He is nothing but a silhouette in the dark and you can’t help but notice how pretty it looked. His fingers were tainted with blood as he shakily brushed past your face. You wondered if this was counted as the sixth time as you drifted in and out of the darkness, soft sobs and loud siren echoing in your ears that dawn.
You remember Heebum giving you that cynical stare from his cat eyes when he accompanied you back to the apartment the following day after much pestering and persistence from the younger boy.
Although Leeteuk gushed about how the cat must’ve been so worried about his owner, you understood very well that the stare said “So I heard you wasted another life on this guy? I thought you weren’t a fan of superheroes saving people.” You shot him a look and he nonchalantly sat on top of his scratching post, saying no more; eyes trained on him. You could sense his discomfort and in your mind you told the cat off. Kangin wasn’t of much help either when he remarked how scrawny the boy was compared to himself.
---
From then on the brat followed you around whenever he could (before and after his daily classes), admiration bordering on obsession as you dodged.
“My name is Cho Kyuhyun. Can I have yours?”
He appears in front of you one day during your lunch break, extending an awkwardly long hand above your half-eaten kimchi fried rice.
“Why? Yours not good enough?”
You push his hand away and continue eating, heart giving an uncharacteristic jolt at the interruption. You sense his frustration at your cold response yet you know he’s trying his best to hold it back.
“No, I just want to see if I can put my name on yours. You’ll be my property then.”
Such lame but big words to use on someone like you. Although you’ve never allowed yourself to date seriously you know that it is probably at the top of the lamest pick-up lines ever. Yet you were actually caught off guard by the look on the eighteen-year-old’s cheeky face. Seems like you’ve found someone who could actually beat you at your own game.
The ironic thing is the fact that you didn’t exactly despise the constant company and lame gags he was showering you with in effort to garner your attention. You secretly did find some of his jokes clever as the two of you rode at the back of the bus together during the evenings, but all you could give him were nothing short of a stare and rolling of eyes, at which he pouts and turns to the side of the window, pretending not to be bothered by your sarcasm. You found that amusing, entertaining even.
In him you somehow saw yourself and the feeling was strange. Didn’t people always say that opposites attract and likes repel? But he cheekily tells you to brush up on your proverbs because there was one more saying that goes ‘feathers of the same bird flock together’. As the both of you stroll down the Han River bank that one evening you turn to him and ask what bird he was talking about, to which he gives you a playful smack on the cheek and you look back at him seriously. Once again, you give a smirk inside when you saw the alarmed look in his eyes.
“Let’s go, I’ll teach you how to play Starcraft.”
His beautiful voice rings from the PC Bang entrance one night as you lock up the doors. You look up with a bored expression, but inside your heart thumps loudly against your will. His face was never more serious than you’ve ever seen it and somehow you understood what lies underneath those words. Or maybe it was because he was carrying one big luggage in one hand and a backpack on his back, sweat matting his bangs to his forehead messily. You didn’t give any indication of a ‘yes’, but didn’t object either when he trailed you from behind.
You threaten to punch that chipmunk face that was Kangin’s when his eyes light up at the sight of the boy lugging his bags in. As usual, Leeteuk coos over him and helps him with the luggage. All in all, you’re just glad that they didn’t really object to another person moving in. Sometimes you think the two of them spoils you too much.
Heebum, on the other hand, isn’t quite as supportive; hissing at him almost all the time and then telling you that it wasn’t the right thing to do. For the first time in your life you wished you couldn’t hear cats talk, and little did you know how much you hurt the gray Russian Blue because he actually heard you.
---
The first time you and he attempt at actual kissing it ended up in a huge mess, involving bottles and bottles of soju and beer plus a very mad Heebum. Kangin and Leeteuk were away in France on a working trip together and that left you and him alone in the apartment for a whole week. You drunkenly confess you actually liked his single-lidded eyes before he went to do something about it while downing your eighth beer.
The silly boy, on the other hand, was just gushing mindlessly at how beautiful and special you are the whole time through you had to use your own lips to shut him up. But it was not to say that you didn’t enjoy it; the both of you were just a bit too drunk to realize what happened. And after he was totally knocked out, you place your chin on top of his hair and mutter ‘I know’ before drifting off as well, wondering if he too had those pleasant dreams that accompanied you that night.
Heebum walks in on the two of you and couldn’t stop hissing at either of you for the next three days.
---
Before you realize how much time had passed since the night you saved the boy from the spinning car, you could feel him falling deep beyond help. By now he was fresh out of college and looking for a job and you… you were still where you used to be although you didn’t work part-time anymore. Even though so far no event was spectacular enough to qualify as the seventh time while you passed those lazy Sundays with him, you blame yourself for letting it go this far. You knew very well inside that anything that had to do with you wouldn’t last very long.
“He deserves to know.” Leeteuk’s voice rings annoyingly in your head one night. But you beg to differ. He doesn’t. He shouldn’t have to suffer along.
He was only a kid, you remind yourself, probably just blinded by gratitude to mistake it as anything else beyond that. You should have known better. You, of all people, should have known better than to lead the boy this far.
But he, you realize with irritation, was a master of evasion whenever you tried to talk him out of it. The breakfast Leeteuk had left out for the both of you that morning lay cold and untouched as the two of you pause from yelling at each other for a short moment, only to catch your breaths. You lose count at the eighth time you attempt to drive him away with yet another unthinkable idea but only to end up in argument.
“Do you know why I like cats? Because they can’t be controlled...Like me. Stop acting like you own me, Cho Kyuhyun.”
“I fucking hate you, Kim Heechul.”
And slam goes the door.
He doesn’t get the cold shoulders and snappy responses you give him but what he doesn’t understand more is how much your heart was slowly but surely cracking into bits each time he hides in the toilet to cry, thinking no one could hear him.
And then you just stop bringing it up again, the both of you, because you were tired at screaming and throwing things at someone who wouldn’t listen. You couldn’t figure if cold war was how you had wanted it to end, but surely none of you were enjoying it. Finally one day he explodes again and you too, and it was never a pretty thing to look at. But this time in your twenty-seventh year it was different; because you finally told him the truth.
Your voice was probably the epitome of calmness and seriousness at their best balance, and you were honestly surprised at it because inside the thought of losing him was ripping you apart like a butcher knife. He doesn’t throw you that look of disbelief or sarcasm you expect to see, but instead in his eyes there was something reflected that you didn’t quite understand.
He doesn’t speak for the longest time and you could feel yourself collapsing under the overwhelming weight, wishing you were the one to leave instead. You were almost going to yell at him to say something before he finally looks you in the eyes and speaks, shaky hands lax by his side.
How many lives have you lost before me?
Your heart starts bleeding because the cracks finally give way at the sound of his breaking voice. You slump down together on the small, creaking bed you share with him as you recounted your lives so far; using his long, shaky fingers. You stop at the latest and sixth time before you realize there are damp spots on your shirt where his face is burrowed at; probably the first time you’ve seen him cry while sober. You want to cry along but laugh instead, interlacing his and your fingers together despite the sweat. You are willing to give up your seventh life just for him to stop crying, but you know sadly that it doesn’t work this way.
“You shouldn’t have wasted one on me.”
He complains chokingly and you hit him lightly on the head. It was bullshit and you know you didn’t regret it the slightest bit. It was probably the best one out of the six times and you wish he knew that. He tries to make you promise to take care of the remaining three but you roll your eyes yet again and call him childish.
“You’re selfish…And arrogant. And you love yourself way too much to let anything tie you down. Lucky for us, I am way too much like you.”
His poignant voice you love so much came out hoarse and unrecognizable as the tears stream down his porcelain-white face. You smile, catching a drop with your finger just as it slides down his chin.
“Thank God I found myself then. Pun intended.”
You both hear a ‘meow’ from the edge of the bed and Heebum catches you off guard as he leaps soundlessly onto the sheets and settles comfortably right in between. His eyebrows nearly form a nice thick line as he backs away into the pillows in surprise, tears starting to cease. You shake your head at the cat who acts like it is in his rightful place while extending a hand towards the boy, grabbing his in yours; as tightly as you would your own.
---
“Come, let’s go sky diving.”
You were in the mood suddenly that one Sunday morning. He lifts his head and looks at you through half-lidded eyes, sleepiness still creeping from within. He snorts into his juice before taking a bite out of his burnt toast and tells you to stop joking because there’s no way he’s plunging down a hundred feet only to end up where he could be originally without breaking his body into a million bits. He then chokes slightly when your face doesn’t break into a grin at his joke, which would mean you were serious about it.
“H-hyung…”
The first time in months he calls you that. Although technically and emotionally you’re more to him than just that, you still insist on the respect you can get from him because you’ve seen how the maknae can twist Leeteuk and even Kangin the big bully around at times. Occasionally you worry about rubbing off him too much. After all, you may not care much about what others might think about you, but at least you know respect where respect’s due.
You snap a loud ‘what?’ to him without looking up from the magazine you have in your hands. You glance up a moment later when you realize he hasn’t answered. He doesn’t pout or hit you rudely with a rolled-up newspaper but was just sitting there shaking instead, colour draining from his already pale face. You sigh because you should have seen it coming when you decide to tell him the truth.
You grab his shoulders lightly and push his head towards your chest numbly, nose wrinkling slightly at the morning breath. “What are you worried about? I have nine lives.”
He uses his palm to push you away while wiping his eyes. “Yeah? But you’ve already lost six of them, remember? And not to mention how prone to dying you are, Heenim.”
“I know. But let me live, Kyu. Let me do what I want…while I can.”
The two of you didn’t move for a very long time before you finally breathe again, planting a casual kiss on his forehead.
---
The next day the four of you (Leeteuk and Kangin have finally admitted having feelings for each other which was waaaay overdue but the brawny one still raises his fist at you each time you mention the words ‘double-date’) hop on a bus heading to a place by the country side where tourists and locals alike get fooled into paying a hell-load just to jump from a high place. The platform you were supposed to bungee-jump from isn’t very high in the first place; much lower that you had anticipated from sky-diving but this was better than nothing.
He is still shaking a little as he watches you strap on the gear after he had disentangled himself messily out of one. You, however, are hoping that the determined smirk and raising of one seductive brow would help put him at ease, until at least you’ve really jumped. You aren’t thinking much about what’s going to happen; because if it’s going to happen then nothing in your mind can stop it. It’s just a little uncomfortable southwards with all the weird straps and a little more than cold due to the wind’s attempt at disfiguring your face at such a high altitude. You snort a laugh when you hear Kangin’s annoying voice cheering you on mockingly from below.
He is reduced to nothing but a speck of beige from where you stand but you can imagine the worry etched onto his young face while he stands there with a million thoughts of what could go wrong running through his head. You take a deep breath but your smile quivers unexpectedly at the instructor who just signaled a thumbs-up at you.
Here it is, you tell yourself; something you have wanted to do for a very long time but never thought you could. This is as close to flying as you can get while breathing.
Another deep breath and the ball of your feet lifts from the hard surface.
“HEECHUL-AH SARANGHAE!”
Congratulations, you are now a flying cat.
The next moment you’re soaring down as a blast of cold wind hits your face without thought. The sight downwards isn’t as wondrous as you thought it would be because you are plummeting at the mercy of gravity, everything just flashing by in a mess of dull colours, specifically green. Your hair is flying everywhere above you but all you could feel is the stupid huge grin plastered on your face as the adrenaline hits the roof.
A mere eight seconds it was over and your head dips unexpectedly into the frigid water below, bouncing you back up again before you feel something snap (literally) above you.
Everything becomes muted suddenly as your whole body crashes into the dark and freezing lake water. Your eyes are squeezed shut into darkness until everything numbs out. You don’t wake up again until fifteen minutes later in his shaky arms. His lips are moving but you still don’t hear a thing. Through a blur you could make out his scrunched-up face and the outlines of many others, but they are irrelevant; because you could only feel him and you in the whole wide world at that moment.
You wake to the beeping sounds and horrible smell of alcohol in the place you hate the most. Your whole body feels sore like all those times you nearly died but not nearly enough. The only comforting thing within reach is his messy tuff of hair beside your arm. He wakes up in a jolt with puffy eyes before he fumbles for the emergency alarm in the dark. And that’s when you stop him with a firm grip and a satisfied grin.
Eight short seconds.
Short, but without doubt one of the best eight seconds of your life. Because it made you feel alive; more alive than you’ve ever felt for the past seven lives you’ve supposedly lived.
---
Only two more left and you’d be liberated from the world, once and for all. But you aren’t angry or sad; just neutrally content about what you’ve been given; bliss or curse. You’ve always held on to the principle of ‘live fast, die hard’ and that was why ‘tonight’ is always the furthest your plans can go. There is no ‘future’ or ‘tomorrow’ in your dictionary, because in truth you don’t even know if there’s one.
He, on the other hand, is on the verge of breakdown since you’ve suffered from a slight pneumonia and broken ankles the day you accidently jumped into the lake. You’ve seen him walking and living like a zombie for quite some time now in the apartment, obviously upset but not showing any outright anger either. At night he doesn’t come home right after work and smells like crappy alcohol and cigarette smoke when he finally does during midnight.
You hate to see him this way because you know he’s avoiding you and the whole situation by wasting himself. Leeteuk and Kangin tries to talk him out of it because you wouldn’t but you know it won’t work anyway. The boy is as stubborn as you are, or maybe even a little more. No old man lectures or death threats were going to snap him out of it…unless you do it your way.
Leeteuk looks at you with tears in his eyes that one night by the balcony, with only the two of you and some beer; the first hyung-dongsaeng talk in a long time.
“Talk to him, Heechul. It isn’t fair to either of you, especially him. Or even me and Kangin. Or your family. We don’t want to lose you either.”
You nod in silence while taking a swig of the beer, glancing downwards to the quiet street below, wind in your face.
“Please take care of yourself for our sake.” He turns away and shuts the balcony door behind him, sealing the cold, quiet night out with you.
---
( Part 2 )
Characters: Heechul-centric ,Kyuhyun, Leeteuk, Kangin, Donghae, Sungmin, Siwon, Kibum
Pairings: KyuChul, cameo-Kangteuk
Rating: R
Genre: AU,Drama, Angst, Romance
Type: One-shot (or rather, long-shot) in two parts
Word Count: 5,611
Warning: Character death
Disclaimer: I own many things, but unfortunately Super Junior isn't one of them.
A/N : Had to split it into two parts 'cause it's apparently too large for lj.
Summary:
Kim Heechul always thought himself as special. His good looks, of course, are undebatable. But that's not the only thing that makes him so. Sit back as the man himself takes you through the story of not only one, but nine of his lives; one in which he meets someone he didn’t quite thought was to die for, but literally, died for.
A/N 2 : Words in italics are either dialogues or flashbacks. Enjoy XD
The Nine Lives of Kim Heechul
“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid your baby’s not going to make it.”
The doctor’s voice could not be anymore monotonous, sympathy not being something taught in med school.
It was the first time it happened.
You were just fresh out of your mother’s womb; just a mere two more months and you’d be a full-fledged baby. Yet somehow you chose to crawl out earlier and make your presence known in this small part of Earth called Kangwon-do, Korea. Perhaps it was hats off to your infamous impatience and bad temper that followed you throughout your whole life.
You were born with a lung collapsed atop itself that tenth morning of the seventh month; chances of survival were estimated to be as thin as a spider’s thread. Your weakened mother prayed hard, or maybe a little too hard. Somehow, you miraculously pulled through.
It’s a miracle, your grandmother pompously proclaimed that fateful day. The others couldn’t agree more that it was nothing short of one.
---
The second time it happened someone had mistakenly left the front door open.
You, a quiet child of merely five years, were playing on your own a few feet away, having just only discovered the pretty marbles your older sister had left at home. While she stayed at your grandmother’s, you stayed home with your mother who was usually too busy cooking or taking phone calls for possible business opportunities; mirages, because they were never really there.
That peaceful afternoon your then-unemployed father rushed out into his car while fixing on an old decent tie, jumping at the first call for interview in over three months. From on top of the neighbour’s wall sat a black cat eyeing you unblinkingly while you rolled the marbles around with your small hands in fascination. Even at that small age you knew you had a special bond with cats. It was a peaceful day.
Your father was on the phone confirming the venue of the interview when he thought he heard a thud from behind.
Lucky for him, his wheel had only caught slightly on his little boy’s leg, crimson trickling like veins down the driveway and disappearing onto the dark colour of tar. When your mother rushed out to see what had happened, she couldn’t even scream.
That year you spent the whole summer on a miniature wheelchair, something your prideful self -even as a child- was proud of, viewing it as something to be envious of by your naïve little nursery friends, because it made you feel big for once; like you were a Transformer machine. You figured you didn’t even like running anyway, but it sure irked you when the teacher had to wheel you everywhere.
---
The third time you brush shoulders with Death again was when you were ten; stubborn little kid who refused to listen, secretly sliding down the steep slippery slopes on old mats with mischievous friends. That winter you sported a fractured shoulder and a big bump on the head, unable to join the story-telling competition you had eyes on since fourth grade started.
But in return your mother finally allowed a cat in the house. It was then you realized that cats really do talk, just not to and in front of others; in a language only audible to your ears.
You named him Heebum - after yourself because how could your first cat not have a part of your name- and Kibum, a childhood friend from seemingly a long time ago, whom nobody else spoke of again but you clearly remember playing with when you were younger.
It was only later that you fished it out cleverly from your mother that he had died when he was only five, from a bee sting allergy in his own garden.
You asked Heebum nicely one night if Kibum was okay in Heaven -the cat liked to be treated with much respect- and with a cool stare your cat tells you that there is no Heaven, and that the little dongsaeng was now enjoying his time playing in the Gardens, chasing bees and butterflies in the evenings.
---
And then there was the evening on the eve of your 12th birthday. You nearly choked to death after attempting to swallow a boiled egg whole as a dare from the local bully, Kangin -a nickname he gave himself because Kim Youngwoon was such a weakling’s name- who was really just all brawn and not much brains.
You wouldn’t have been lucky enough to make it through this time if it weren’t for Leeteuk -you figured the bully must’ve had something good in that big frame to earn such a kind-hearted friend- who immediately called for help when your milky white skin was starting to turn maroon, eyes rolling backwards. Somehow the three of you hit it off not long afterwards and Kangin mellowed down much, to the delight of his closest hyung.
When you finally awoke from your blackout, you somehow wished you didn’t. When your mother once again prayed so hard beside the hospital bed of her accident-prone son, a strange voice spoke to you from the back of your mind telling you that you’ve been blessed with Nine lives.
When you woke up screaming the number ‘nine’ hysterically, your mother enveloped you tightly in her arms, too afraid to let go. Through gasps and sobs you told her what you heard in your mind but she took no heed at the moment, only crying along when nurses rushed in with all sorts of meds to calm you down.
Not very long after you went home, you realized your mother was lying when she told you that it was just a nightmare. Everyone at home danced around you like you were going to break into a million shards of glass any time soon. You hated the feeling of being held at home like a prisoner; you hated that stare your own sister gives you every time you come into the room. You wanted to be free like before; the liberty to be able to do whatever you want.
However, you know without a doubt you didn’t hate your parents for it. If it weren’t for them, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. You know you are grateful to them, but this so-called protection they were giving you under this roof was just too suffocating and you knew you just had to get out of the place that didn’t felt like home anymore. You were like a ticking bomb anyway. Nobody knows when you’ll finally go off, but you will; surely and steadily. You knew very well your mother -or anyone else, for that matter- could do nothing to stop it.
Well, at least when it happens you could save her the pain from seeing you expire.
As you sifted through the dump that was your room one midnight, you pack out the things meaningful enough in your seventeen years of living so far to bring along but you realized there isn’t much really. In your head you silently counted the number of times you nearly died, carrying Heebum up in one hand and a medium-sized backpack slung up the other.
One (you figured that time during birth counted too), two, three, four… and then the last time when you were nearly electrocuted from a faulty switch even when you did hid at home last year, except for school and hanging out secretly with Leeteuk and Kangin.
That would make it another four more lives to go. You flipped your phone open in the dark as you leave the letter on your table. Peering around one last time, you popped open your window into the vast darkness outside. Leeteuk and Kangin were waiting for you rather impatiently at the bus station; the only two people in the world who didn’t think you were a madcap when you told them you’re no different from a cat.
“You have nine lives? NINE?”
Kangin’s eyes look like they were about to pop out of their sockets. Leeteuk just tilts his head and makes that puffy-cheeked-thinking face which showed off his perfect dimples. You nod proudly as the three of you walked home from school that one evening.
“You should just grow some fur and yellow eyes then!” Kangin sneers and walked ahead the two of you. You were happy that you succeeded at making the bigger boy jealous. Leeteuk, on the other hand, looked a bit worried.
“You take care of them, okay? Hyung will help you too.”
It’s been two years and counting since you moved out from home (Ran away? Oh please, Kim Heechul doesn’t run) along with two other friends, whom you now share an apartment with in outskirts Seoul. By now you’ve gotten used to living without rules and boundaries, letting your own Wants become the bible of your life, but within your own limits still. You figured why tie yourself within society’s standards? You won’t be a part of it for long anyway.
Leeteuk would always try to talk you out of things with his boring lectures but you both know that they bounce off your ears like a reflective screen. You never stop warning him that if he doesn’t stop talking like an old man, he would very much age before his time. And that was painting you a bad image because you two were only nine days apart.
But you’re pretty much sure you’d die before you become one; you just don’t talk about it to him because you know the man would just put the blame on himself for not being good enough of a hyung, which you knew without a doubt was plain bullshit. You wish you could tell Kangin to just confess to him straight in the face, in hope that the vibrant youth energy would rub it off him.
And also because you wanted to see that blush on your only hyung’s face the first time they kiss and tease him about it…before you go. As selfish as you admitted yourself to be, you wanted happiness for those care about you… and vice versa.
---
A job at a local company as the office boy didn’t pay much but with qualifications as limited as yours, you knew you should be thankful to find a job. You were someone who gives up easily but if you were determined to achieve something, nothing could stop you. A part-time job at the comic store and PC bang didn’t earn you much as well, but at least you were in places you rather enjoyed. That way you could still attend short classes and have a considerably full stomach at the end of the day.
The first time you met him it was also around the sixth time you almost died in the twenty five years of your life.
Initially he was nothing special -even until many years later you still wonder what he really means to you -just another average, sleep-deprived kid who spent both money and time excessively on computer games at the PC bang you worked at. He had tousled brown hair, single eyelids that were slightly funny to look at even many times after, dehydrated and pimply teenager skin, and almost always sported that cheeky grin you feel like throwing a punch at each time it was there.
You smirk to yourself each time he came. If there really was a God (you had given up a long time ago to find faith, despite the good-willed efforts of a local kid named Siwon who wouldn’t stop trying to convert you each time he met you), then you figured that the big guy up there was really fair. You were blessed with beautiful milky-white skin and big eyes that even girls were envious of; surely you wouldn’t have the chance to live very long, practically speaking, despite having nine lives. It would be good if you had a chance of passing those great genes to the next generation, but frankly you knew there aren’t much chances of it.
The kid was cocky and disrespectful; refusing to call you hyung even though you were a whole five years older than he was. He had this cheeky demeanor which seemed to drive you up the wall despite your own efforts to convince yourself not to bother about it.
That night he was there at the back in his usual place, shouting random things like ‘shoot! shoot!’ and ‘darn you, move faster!’ and not forgetting ‘urghhhh!’, and with that you knew that it wasn’t a good night for him. Despite how much he irked you, his soulful voice was surprisingly soothing to your ears when he isn’t shouting like a mad man. At the back of your mind you decide that surely it would sound great in a song, but you kick yourself mentally for having such random thoughts.
You eyed him warily from behind the counter as he finally stood up from his place -the last customer of the night- looking as if he had just lost the love of his life. Although you didn’t have the luxury of playing games as much, but you knew that in the gaming world Starcraft wasn’t the only game available. He shot you a disgruntled look as he sauntered out, heaving a sigh along the way. Switching off the last computer and lights, you headed out as well and locked up the doors.
It was then you saw flashing headlights whirling his way on the deserted sidewalk out of nowhere.
Without a thought you ran forward, something within urging you to push the kid out of the way and you did. You were amazed at how just in time you were to shove his lanky frame out of danger (you were obviously not very athletic), both of you crashing to the side of the road, causing some cats to shriek and sprint out of the way. A car laid smoking in the opposite direction, badly smashed up on the front into a fire hydrant which burst into a delightful fountain of dew, car alarm ringing incessantly loud in the dark.
“You’re bleeding!”
He sounded so worried you wanted to laugh but tasted iron instead. You smirked in return despite feeling light-headed from bumping into the wall. He is nothing but a silhouette in the dark and you can’t help but notice how pretty it looked. His fingers were tainted with blood as he shakily brushed past your face. You wondered if this was counted as the sixth time as you drifted in and out of the darkness, soft sobs and loud siren echoing in your ears that dawn.
You remember Heebum giving you that cynical stare from his cat eyes when he accompanied you back to the apartment the following day after much pestering and persistence from the younger boy.
Although Leeteuk gushed about how the cat must’ve been so worried about his owner, you understood very well that the stare said “So I heard you wasted another life on this guy? I thought you weren’t a fan of superheroes saving people.” You shot him a look and he nonchalantly sat on top of his scratching post, saying no more; eyes trained on him. You could sense his discomfort and in your mind you told the cat off. Kangin wasn’t of much help either when he remarked how scrawny the boy was compared to himself.
---
From then on the brat followed you around whenever he could (before and after his daily classes), admiration bordering on obsession as you dodged.
“My name is Cho Kyuhyun. Can I have yours?”
He appears in front of you one day during your lunch break, extending an awkwardly long hand above your half-eaten kimchi fried rice.
“Why? Yours not good enough?”
You push his hand away and continue eating, heart giving an uncharacteristic jolt at the interruption. You sense his frustration at your cold response yet you know he’s trying his best to hold it back.
“No, I just want to see if I can put my name on yours. You’ll be my property then.”
Such lame but big words to use on someone like you. Although you’ve never allowed yourself to date seriously you know that it is probably at the top of the lamest pick-up lines ever. Yet you were actually caught off guard by the look on the eighteen-year-old’s cheeky face. Seems like you’ve found someone who could actually beat you at your own game.
The ironic thing is the fact that you didn’t exactly despise the constant company and lame gags he was showering you with in effort to garner your attention. You secretly did find some of his jokes clever as the two of you rode at the back of the bus together during the evenings, but all you could give him were nothing short of a stare and rolling of eyes, at which he pouts and turns to the side of the window, pretending not to be bothered by your sarcasm. You found that amusing, entertaining even.
In him you somehow saw yourself and the feeling was strange. Didn’t people always say that opposites attract and likes repel? But he cheekily tells you to brush up on your proverbs because there was one more saying that goes ‘feathers of the same bird flock together’. As the both of you stroll down the Han River bank that one evening you turn to him and ask what bird he was talking about, to which he gives you a playful smack on the cheek and you look back at him seriously. Once again, you give a smirk inside when you saw the alarmed look in his eyes.
“Let’s go, I’ll teach you how to play Starcraft.”
His beautiful voice rings from the PC Bang entrance one night as you lock up the doors. You look up with a bored expression, but inside your heart thumps loudly against your will. His face was never more serious than you’ve ever seen it and somehow you understood what lies underneath those words. Or maybe it was because he was carrying one big luggage in one hand and a backpack on his back, sweat matting his bangs to his forehead messily. You didn’t give any indication of a ‘yes’, but didn’t object either when he trailed you from behind.
You threaten to punch that chipmunk face that was Kangin’s when his eyes light up at the sight of the boy lugging his bags in. As usual, Leeteuk coos over him and helps him with the luggage. All in all, you’re just glad that they didn’t really object to another person moving in. Sometimes you think the two of them spoils you too much.
Heebum, on the other hand, isn’t quite as supportive; hissing at him almost all the time and then telling you that it wasn’t the right thing to do. For the first time in your life you wished you couldn’t hear cats talk, and little did you know how much you hurt the gray Russian Blue because he actually heard you.
---
The first time you and he attempt at actual kissing it ended up in a huge mess, involving bottles and bottles of soju and beer plus a very mad Heebum. Kangin and Leeteuk were away in France on a working trip together and that left you and him alone in the apartment for a whole week. You drunkenly confess you actually liked his single-lidded eyes before he went to do something about it while downing your eighth beer.
The silly boy, on the other hand, was just gushing mindlessly at how beautiful and special you are the whole time through you had to use your own lips to shut him up. But it was not to say that you didn’t enjoy it; the both of you were just a bit too drunk to realize what happened. And after he was totally knocked out, you place your chin on top of his hair and mutter ‘I know’ before drifting off as well, wondering if he too had those pleasant dreams that accompanied you that night.
Heebum walks in on the two of you and couldn’t stop hissing at either of you for the next three days.
---
Before you realize how much time had passed since the night you saved the boy from the spinning car, you could feel him falling deep beyond help. By now he was fresh out of college and looking for a job and you… you were still where you used to be although you didn’t work part-time anymore. Even though so far no event was spectacular enough to qualify as the seventh time while you passed those lazy Sundays with him, you blame yourself for letting it go this far. You knew very well inside that anything that had to do with you wouldn’t last very long.
“He deserves to know.” Leeteuk’s voice rings annoyingly in your head one night. But you beg to differ. He doesn’t. He shouldn’t have to suffer along.
He was only a kid, you remind yourself, probably just blinded by gratitude to mistake it as anything else beyond that. You should have known better. You, of all people, should have known better than to lead the boy this far.
But he, you realize with irritation, was a master of evasion whenever you tried to talk him out of it. The breakfast Leeteuk had left out for the both of you that morning lay cold and untouched as the two of you pause from yelling at each other for a short moment, only to catch your breaths. You lose count at the eighth time you attempt to drive him away with yet another unthinkable idea but only to end up in argument.
“Do you know why I like cats? Because they can’t be controlled...Like me. Stop acting like you own me, Cho Kyuhyun.”
“I fucking hate you, Kim Heechul.”
And slam goes the door.
He doesn’t get the cold shoulders and snappy responses you give him but what he doesn’t understand more is how much your heart was slowly but surely cracking into bits each time he hides in the toilet to cry, thinking no one could hear him.
And then you just stop bringing it up again, the both of you, because you were tired at screaming and throwing things at someone who wouldn’t listen. You couldn’t figure if cold war was how you had wanted it to end, but surely none of you were enjoying it. Finally one day he explodes again and you too, and it was never a pretty thing to look at. But this time in your twenty-seventh year it was different; because you finally told him the truth.
Your voice was probably the epitome of calmness and seriousness at their best balance, and you were honestly surprised at it because inside the thought of losing him was ripping you apart like a butcher knife. He doesn’t throw you that look of disbelief or sarcasm you expect to see, but instead in his eyes there was something reflected that you didn’t quite understand.
He doesn’t speak for the longest time and you could feel yourself collapsing under the overwhelming weight, wishing you were the one to leave instead. You were almost going to yell at him to say something before he finally looks you in the eyes and speaks, shaky hands lax by his side.
How many lives have you lost before me?
Your heart starts bleeding because the cracks finally give way at the sound of his breaking voice. You slump down together on the small, creaking bed you share with him as you recounted your lives so far; using his long, shaky fingers. You stop at the latest and sixth time before you realize there are damp spots on your shirt where his face is burrowed at; probably the first time you’ve seen him cry while sober. You want to cry along but laugh instead, interlacing his and your fingers together despite the sweat. You are willing to give up your seventh life just for him to stop crying, but you know sadly that it doesn’t work this way.
“You shouldn’t have wasted one on me.”
He complains chokingly and you hit him lightly on the head. It was bullshit and you know you didn’t regret it the slightest bit. It was probably the best one out of the six times and you wish he knew that. He tries to make you promise to take care of the remaining three but you roll your eyes yet again and call him childish.
“You’re selfish…And arrogant. And you love yourself way too much to let anything tie you down. Lucky for us, I am way too much like you.”
His poignant voice you love so much came out hoarse and unrecognizable as the tears stream down his porcelain-white face. You smile, catching a drop with your finger just as it slides down his chin.
“Thank God I found myself then. Pun intended.”
You both hear a ‘meow’ from the edge of the bed and Heebum catches you off guard as he leaps soundlessly onto the sheets and settles comfortably right in between. His eyebrows nearly form a nice thick line as he backs away into the pillows in surprise, tears starting to cease. You shake your head at the cat who acts like it is in his rightful place while extending a hand towards the boy, grabbing his in yours; as tightly as you would your own.
---
“Come, let’s go sky diving.”
You were in the mood suddenly that one Sunday morning. He lifts his head and looks at you through half-lidded eyes, sleepiness still creeping from within. He snorts into his juice before taking a bite out of his burnt toast and tells you to stop joking because there’s no way he’s plunging down a hundred feet only to end up where he could be originally without breaking his body into a million bits. He then chokes slightly when your face doesn’t break into a grin at his joke, which would mean you were serious about it.
“H-hyung…”
The first time in months he calls you that. Although technically and emotionally you’re more to him than just that, you still insist on the respect you can get from him because you’ve seen how the maknae can twist Leeteuk and even Kangin the big bully around at times. Occasionally you worry about rubbing off him too much. After all, you may not care much about what others might think about you, but at least you know respect where respect’s due.
You snap a loud ‘what?’ to him without looking up from the magazine you have in your hands. You glance up a moment later when you realize he hasn’t answered. He doesn’t pout or hit you rudely with a rolled-up newspaper but was just sitting there shaking instead, colour draining from his already pale face. You sigh because you should have seen it coming when you decide to tell him the truth.
You grab his shoulders lightly and push his head towards your chest numbly, nose wrinkling slightly at the morning breath. “What are you worried about? I have nine lives.”
He uses his palm to push you away while wiping his eyes. “Yeah? But you’ve already lost six of them, remember? And not to mention how prone to dying you are, Heenim.”
“I know. But let me live, Kyu. Let me do what I want…while I can.”
The two of you didn’t move for a very long time before you finally breathe again, planting a casual kiss on his forehead.
---
The next day the four of you (Leeteuk and Kangin have finally admitted having feelings for each other which was waaaay overdue but the brawny one still raises his fist at you each time you mention the words ‘double-date’) hop on a bus heading to a place by the country side where tourists and locals alike get fooled into paying a hell-load just to jump from a high place. The platform you were supposed to bungee-jump from isn’t very high in the first place; much lower that you had anticipated from sky-diving but this was better than nothing.
He is still shaking a little as he watches you strap on the gear after he had disentangled himself messily out of one. You, however, are hoping that the determined smirk and raising of one seductive brow would help put him at ease, until at least you’ve really jumped. You aren’t thinking much about what’s going to happen; because if it’s going to happen then nothing in your mind can stop it. It’s just a little uncomfortable southwards with all the weird straps and a little more than cold due to the wind’s attempt at disfiguring your face at such a high altitude. You snort a laugh when you hear Kangin’s annoying voice cheering you on mockingly from below.
He is reduced to nothing but a speck of beige from where you stand but you can imagine the worry etched onto his young face while he stands there with a million thoughts of what could go wrong running through his head. You take a deep breath but your smile quivers unexpectedly at the instructor who just signaled a thumbs-up at you.
Here it is, you tell yourself; something you have wanted to do for a very long time but never thought you could. This is as close to flying as you can get while breathing.
Another deep breath and the ball of your feet lifts from the hard surface.
“HEECHUL-AH SARANGHAE!”
Congratulations, you are now a flying cat.
The next moment you’re soaring down as a blast of cold wind hits your face without thought. The sight downwards isn’t as wondrous as you thought it would be because you are plummeting at the mercy of gravity, everything just flashing by in a mess of dull colours, specifically green. Your hair is flying everywhere above you but all you could feel is the stupid huge grin plastered on your face as the adrenaline hits the roof.
A mere eight seconds it was over and your head dips unexpectedly into the frigid water below, bouncing you back up again before you feel something snap (literally) above you.
Everything becomes muted suddenly as your whole body crashes into the dark and freezing lake water. Your eyes are squeezed shut into darkness until everything numbs out. You don’t wake up again until fifteen minutes later in his shaky arms. His lips are moving but you still don’t hear a thing. Through a blur you could make out his scrunched-up face and the outlines of many others, but they are irrelevant; because you could only feel him and you in the whole wide world at that moment.
You wake to the beeping sounds and horrible smell of alcohol in the place you hate the most. Your whole body feels sore like all those times you nearly died but not nearly enough. The only comforting thing within reach is his messy tuff of hair beside your arm. He wakes up in a jolt with puffy eyes before he fumbles for the emergency alarm in the dark. And that’s when you stop him with a firm grip and a satisfied grin.
Eight short seconds.
Short, but without doubt one of the best eight seconds of your life. Because it made you feel alive; more alive than you’ve ever felt for the past seven lives you’ve supposedly lived.
---
Only two more left and you’d be liberated from the world, once and for all. But you aren’t angry or sad; just neutrally content about what you’ve been given; bliss or curse. You’ve always held on to the principle of ‘live fast, die hard’ and that was why ‘tonight’ is always the furthest your plans can go. There is no ‘future’ or ‘tomorrow’ in your dictionary, because in truth you don’t even know if there’s one.
He, on the other hand, is on the verge of breakdown since you’ve suffered from a slight pneumonia and broken ankles the day you accidently jumped into the lake. You’ve seen him walking and living like a zombie for quite some time now in the apartment, obviously upset but not showing any outright anger either. At night he doesn’t come home right after work and smells like crappy alcohol and cigarette smoke when he finally does during midnight.
You hate to see him this way because you know he’s avoiding you and the whole situation by wasting himself. Leeteuk and Kangin tries to talk him out of it because you wouldn’t but you know it won’t work anyway. The boy is as stubborn as you are, or maybe even a little more. No old man lectures or death threats were going to snap him out of it…unless you do it your way.
Leeteuk looks at you with tears in his eyes that one night by the balcony, with only the two of you and some beer; the first hyung-dongsaeng talk in a long time.
“Talk to him, Heechul. It isn’t fair to either of you, especially him. Or even me and Kangin. Or your family. We don’t want to lose you either.”
You nod in silence while taking a swig of the beer, glancing downwards to the quiet street below, wind in your face.
“Please take care of yourself for our sake.” He turns away and shuts the balcony door behind him, sealing the cold, quiet night out with you.
---
( Part 2 )