If You Could See What I See [Epilogue] - Part A
Chapter: Epilogue (Part A)
Pairings: JaeMin, HoSu, JaeSu (past), YooMin bff
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama
Summary:
They both gave up on love, one thinking that he doesn’t deserve it and the other unable to let go of a painful past. As Changmin and Jaejoong slowly discover in the other something they weren’t aware they needed, they don’t know yet that their growing feelings will get tangled in a web of secrets. And that it may change everything in a merciless fight between truth and power.
Epilogue. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
If beauty is all in the eye of the beholder, then I wish you could see…
There is a garden that used to be golden… golden, silver and black, shadows carving patterns into brightness as the pale sun lowered in a grey winter sky. A cold evening in a foreign country. A quiet place, hidden and safe, preserved from the agitation of the bustling city it was nestled in. A haven like a jewel casket, beautiful and rare in itself, sheltering a secret as precious as it was delicate.
It was still unborn, back then.
Dreams were all they had, along with the feelings unfolding within their hearts with every passing day - nurtured by touches and looks and above all by the growing tension between them, so powerful it had become palpable.
Changmin remembers. Silences loaded with emotions. How every word, every glance carried deeper meanings. All the lines they had blurred, crossed and tried and fought against already until neither of them knew were they stood, except that it was too far yet not far enough. And the garden still holds a special place in his memories… a momentum of their story among many others, but this one he cherishes particularly for no other reason than it was brimming with hopes that all came true.
Changmin remembers the overwhelming awareness of Jaejoong’s presence beside him. Jaejoong who had held onto him a few days before, who had cried, shattered and let him see the pieces of him. Jaejoong who had made Changmin someone else the moment he entrusted it all to him - someone Changmin never dared to imagine he could be - undoing them both, patching them anew, binding them forever.
Changmin remembers holding his hand. He remembers the urge to embrace him again. To be close… closer, together, to tell him once more the words that had changed everything - that he cared, and so much more than that. That he loved him. That he wanted this moment to last forever… a stolen hour in a golden garden, a parenthesis become eternity.
Today the garden is a different place. It stages a vibrant frenzy of colors, yellow, red and orange, flowers big and small blooming in every corner, the bright blue sky above, the rich green of grass and the dark one of trees. The air is heavily fragranced and in the background, quiet, the lulling song of running water rises from a stream meandering amidst greens and bushes. Sometimes a blinding spark catches the eye, sun and water splashing droplets of light as if winking at them.
Changmin looks at Jaejoong, and smiles.
Today they are different people, and the colors filling their hearts are so much brighter too. It’s not frail anymore, but what makes them strong. It’s not a secret. It is who they are.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rain catches him unaware. The sky was clear when he left so Jaejoong opted for walking, but that was counting without the changeable weather at that time of the year. It takes five minutes for dark clouds to gather, two more for the thin October drizzle to threaten to turn into an icy shower, and soon he has no choice but to rush inside the first store he finds, pretty much like everyone in the area.
The place is crowded already. The air is moist and warm, excited chatter filling the stuffy room as staff desperately struggles to maintain order. Jaejoong forces his way through the crowd until he finds shelter between the wall and a bookshelf standing only thanks to a miracle of sorts. He barely had the time to breathe in relief when two high-school girls squeeze themselves into his hiding place, drenched and giggling.
Unsurprisingly, and even though Jaejoong hates the idea that he’s getting used to it, the giggles turn into whispers as soon as they spot him. He scowls, stubbornly looking at his feet. He can’t ignore their eyes on him though, and he’s seriously considering facing pouring rain instead when his phone rings. One glance at the screen and Jaejoong smiles.
“Hey…” he says as neutrally as he can, aware of the furious whispering going on next to him as he answers the call.
“Wow, such enthusiasm…”
His smile widens hearing Changmin’s flat tone.
“Sorry… not the best time to talk.”
“I thought the meeting was over?”
“It is. I was on my way to Junsu’s but it started raining and now I’m stuck inside a store” Jaejoong quickly glances at the girls.
“Kinda noisy” he adds in a lower voice.
“Oh…”
“You wanted to tell me something?”
“Mmh…” Changmin hums pensively. “I think… no, not exactly. Well, yes actually… but it’s not very important so-“
“What is it?”
Jaejoong leans against the wall, now oblivious of the two pairs of eyes fixed on him.
They had yet another appointment at the court this afternoon - rather useless if you ask him but Hwang-sshi, their lawyer, is on the edge with the trial starting next month; he cannot blame her for wanting to make sure they tied up all loose ends. Jaejoong had to cancel at the last minute though. Something had come up in Kim Industries again, and as much dedication as Dongwon is putting in the task of righting things there, he can’t deal with everything at the same time.
So Changmin went alone. And while the young man did recover impressively fast, Jaejoong still has only too many reasons to feel wary. Dealing with the aftermath of what happened in KangBuk is far from easy and the past months were strenuous for all of them. God knows they would need a respite.
“You’re okay?” Jaejoong probes when Changmin doesn’t answer, frowning.
“Yeah… yeah I’m fine.”
Another silence, long enough for Jaejoong to notice that the number of people in the store seemingly doubled while he wasn’t paying attention. It must be raining hard outside.
“You know… the lawyer’s assistant, Yoon-sshi?” Changmin provides at last, his voice distant and muffled amidst the buzzing noise of the conversations around.
Jaejoong hums in answer, picturing round glasses circling a pair of scrutinizing eyes. A monotonous voice. And arrogance, barely concealed. The kind of guy who believes he’s always right.
“He said he wanted to talk to me. Privately.”
“And?”
“Well… we went to his office…”
“If you’re trying to make me jealous here it’s not working” Jaejoong lowers his voice. “I know Yoon-sshi, and I also know for a fact that you’ve better taste than that.”
Changmin laughs and Jaejoong smiles to himself, pleased to hear him relax.
“What did he tell you?” he insists, glancing at his watch. Nearly 6PM.
“He said it’d be better if we didn’t brag about… you know, you and me” Changmin blurts out, “that it’d make it simpler during the hearing if we make it sound like we’re friends or something.”
“Brag?”
Jaejoong tenses, his frown reappearing.
“That’s what he said…” Changmin continues hesitantly, “but I’m sure Hwang-sshi doesn’t know about it. He probably-”
“And what did you answer?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“And that means…?”
Changmin sighs heavily, and Jaejoong pictures him threading a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I tried to think of what you’d say…” the answer comes reluctantly a moment later.
“You told him to get lost?”
“…”
“Min?”
“…Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Jaejoong fights a sudden urge to laugh, though a part of him still wants to do painful things to Yoon-sshi and his glasses.
“That’s a bit vague” he teases.
“I told you I don’t know” Changmin protests halfheartedly, “I was upset but I knew I shouldn’t, and he… I said something then I left, and he was making that face, and-don’t laugh.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“How was your day?”
“Smooth…”
“Whatever. The meeting. How did it go?”
Jaejoong leans against the wall again, still smiling.
“Awful.”
“What happened?”
“Shareholders are all riled up. They kept questioning the past three years’ financial statements. Seunghyun decided he’d had enough halfway through the meeting.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah.”
“That’s bad?”
“Depends on what you call ‘bad’…”
“If it’s Seunghyun then I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
Jaejoong doesn’t answer at once, feeling weary just thinking back of the afternoon’s events. Respite, right. They all need that but as it is, they can only make do with every small moment they can steal. Like now.
“I wish you’d been here” he says softly at last. “You’d have drowned them in figures and facts, and you’d have sounded so sure about it that no one would have dared to contradict you.”
“I’m not like that.”
“You are… a little.”
Jaejoong smiles to himself again, unaware of the fond look that briefly softens his features.
By some kind of weird twist of fate, the best backup they’ve had the past months to keep Kim Industries going is the exact useless work that was asked from Changmin when he arrived in the company. Amidst the complete chaos that followed Kim Junjin’s death and the revelations about Hyakunincho’s fire, the data the young man patiently gathered and organized during months proved to be incomparably helpful. That’s what they call the irony of life, Jaejoong supposes.
“Where are you now?” he asks, distracted by a sudden rush of people towards the store exit. Looks like rain finally stopped.
“I just got off the bus. I’ll be home in five minutes.”
“You’re still coming over next week-end, right?” Jaejoong can’t help but ask, trying to sound casual about it and failing miserably. The last time he saw Changmin was yesterday morning; he could swear it’s been a whole week.
“Of course.”
“Good.”
“You can come tonight, you know, if you miss me that much” Changmin adds with a hint of teasing in his voice, “no one will mind.”
“Junsu will mind” Jaejoong retorts, “Wednesdays are his, remember.”
“I didn’t know we were fighting for your custody.”
“But I’ll come tomorrow, maybe” Jaejoong ignores him, slowly making his way toward the exit.
“No problem. Sorry I need to hang up, I keep receiving texts-”
“And Yoochun will start freaking out in about ten seconds if you don’t answer.”
“…Right.”
“Ok. See you tomorrow then.”
“Yes… Jae?”
Jaejoong hums, peering outside before stepping out. The sky is already clearing, patches of blue quickly chasing the last grey clouds. It’s neither warm nor sunny, but the surroundings look bright and clean with the special sheen that usually follows rain.
“I love you” Changmin says quietly on the other side of the line.
Jaejoong stills, the three words tugging at his heart gently.
He wouldn’t be able to explain why… why after so many months it feels like it was yesterday when they first said it. It could be because of what they went through or because he doesn’t want to ever take them for granted, those words. It could be because of how Changmin says them - not out of habit, not thrown distractedly at the end of a talk as means of “goodbye”.
‘I love you’ never means any less than what it’s supposed to mean, when Changmin says it.
It’s all it takes for Jaejoong’s heart to start beating faster. And he suddenly misses him, misses him so much it aches like half of him isn’t here… needs him close, needs him here, right here and their hands touching, their eyes meeting, the feelings and closeness and shared certainties. Everything.
Jaejoong hasn’t moved from his spot in front of the store when they end the call. It won’t be long before the sky darkens but for now the autumn sun is still shining, its pale light reflecting on puddles of rain. The two high-school girls are far ahead, heads leaning towards each other as they talk. He knows they recognized him - the recent events gave him more media exposure than he expected, along with unwanted fame - but he doesn’t care as much now.
Strangers are bustling about in familiar streets, and he wishes Changmin was here.
Jaejoong misses him. It’s a faint ache, blended longing and need, and it isn’t sad or painful, no. It’s warm instead… so warm that Jaejoong finds himself praying that he’ll miss him always, no matter how close they’ll get. Now even absence glows, and makes his heart feel full.
11 texts in 5min, that’s a new record hyung
…Hyung?
Great. Now you’re ignoring me.
You do know you’re too old for sulking?
> I’m not sulking
Here you are ^^
Yoochun smiles, rolling over on the bed to get on his stomach - said bed being the only furniture in the room. He moved in a couple days ago; there’s nothing in his new flat besides the necessary stuff and piles of boxes to empty. There’s no noise other than the light tapping of his fingers on his phone. It’s quiet.
Too quiet.
He’s uncomfortable with silence yet the need to watch out for every small sound still hasn’t disappeared.
> You’re home now, Minnie?
Yes.
> All is fine?
Damn. He’s even worse than Jaejoong.
Yes. And you’re even worse than Jae.
Yoochun grins, relaxing a little. He can’t help it. He knows he worries too much but it’s not his fault. It’s the past months. It’s all the what if, could’ve, maybe, nearly, and how it felt like it’d never end.
The police reopened Hyakunincho’s fire investigations based on the equivalent of eight years of patient searches, saved on that disk that could’ve cost him so much. Witnesses once forced into silence finally dared to speak up. Media exposure made it impossible for authorities to pretend not to see. All in all, it’s everything Yoochun hoped would happen. It hardly feels like winning.
He just wants it to be over, really over. It’ll soon be thirteen years and he wants to leave them behind. Move on. End it. He wants to, but he has yet to find how.
You still owe me lunch hyung
> Really?
Jiyeon’s friend. Remember?
> Ah… still not convinced.
Why?
> She got really mad the last time I mentioned him
It wasn’t ‘mentioning’. It was you harassing her with inappropriate questions.
> Are you really sure he’s not her boyfriend?
YES
> Cos it could be the oppa instincts blinding you…
Maybe it’s just your twisted way of thinking?
> What do you mean?
> And is it ok for you to make bets about your little sister?
Don’t quibble now. I won. Feed me.
Yoochun smiles once more. He thinks that’s what he’s most thankful about: that Changmin knows how to make it simple. Of course there’s guilt, remorse, fear… heavy feelings Yoochun hasn’t found a way to come to terms with yet. It’s hard, how could it not be?
It’s hard, but it doesn’t have to be complicated. Because it’s still here, that thing between them. They still work, even as circumstances changed drastically. Changmin won’t give up on him, the same way Yoochun refused to let him fall in what feels like another life. And he will never know how to say ‘I need you’ the way Changmin does, but somewhere along the way, such words became useless.
> You told Jaejoong?
Of course, but I thought I should tell you too
> Really?
It’s just that you understand better
And don’t tell Jae I said that
> I think Jaejoong understands just fine…
Not helping hyung
I need to sort it out with you, that’s all
> Ok ok…
> What do you mean, “sort it out”?
Talk. All that.
> There’s nothing to talk about, that guy’s a moron
^^
> It upset you that much?
I didn’t expect it. I thought Yoon-sshi rather liked us.
> It’s not important Min
I know
> You’re sure?
Yeah
> Good
> So what did you answer him exactly?
I don’t remember
> Liar. What was it?
I forgot
> Come oooon I won’t tell anyone
No
> Please?
No
> Dinner. Japanese. Next week.
You think I’m that easy???
> Yes :)
I hate you
At least some things haven’t changed - in appearance, that is. It’s still Changmin going to him whenever he needs help. It’s still Yoochun trying to be everything ‘hyung’ should be, reassuring and dependable. Except that the roles switched, and as subtle as it is, it’s obvious for them both.
Yoochun can’t say he’s surprised.
Changmin has his family back, and Jaejoong, and Yoochun. Feelings he’s sure of, that he can rely on. He found confidence, this time within himself. Changmin knows what he wants and who he really is; he now has countless things to give while Yoochun happens to need so much. And Changmin being Changmin, he doesn’t even have to ask.
So are you free on Friday?
> Always free for you, Minnie-ah~~ <3
Shut up
> Language
I’ll charge you extra dessert
> You ALWAYS take extra dessert
Double extra
> Ok
And whipped cream
> Now that’s low
:P
They argue and joke around. They talk. They let each other know when something is not okay. They aren’t too sure about how to approach some topics, sometimes too shy, clumsy. They try. They can try as many times as they want - whatever the outcome is, there’ll always be another chance.
Changmin has his family back, and Jaejoong, and confidence and hopes. Changmin forgot nothing of those times when he had only one hand to hold onto, and that hand was Yoochun’s. They still need each other. Need - as part of the other’s life, what made them who they are.
Yoochun thinks needing is not a bad way to start again. No… he thinks that this time, he’ll know how to do it right. And even if he does it wrong, there’ll be someone to tell him “it’s alright”.
Changmin puts his phone on the desk and leans back in his chair, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It’s not late but the day has been busy… or rather, he isn’t used anymore to what you’d call a normal pace.
Officially he isn’t working, though he sometimes gives a hand at Kim Industries. He isn’t ready yet for a new well-oiled routine. So much happened in a few months and questions naturally arose about what to do now - future, possibilities. Memories of a time when he wanted more than just what life would throw his way. There is a lot to sort out, but Changmin figures it’s okay if it takes time.
Ten minutes till dinner. He closes his eyes, breathes in, and smiles - it smells like home.
It was his mother’s idea.
When doctors first spoke about discharging him from the hospital, they warned he’d need a quiet environment; calm and silence, ideally not alone. Jaejoong’s place seemed an obvious choice and Changmin had been about to say so, but his mother proposed him to come back home before he had a chance to speak out, and it caught him off-guard. Jaejoong noticed that split-second of hesitation, and soon he was listing all the advantages of Changmin going to live with his family for a while.
That was four months ago, and thinking back of how much anguish the mere thought of ‘home’ used to stir up, four months is indeed a small miracle - one he had been waiting for for so long.
They started retrieving lost times.
There were many things Changmin never got a chance to say, and day after day, the words found a way out - good and bad. There was a lot he needed to hear too, and a lot he needed to see for himself. Years of silence and pretence to fix. At times it seemed easy, and at times he couldn’t. It’s still not as right as it should be, but they’re getting there. Home feels like home again.
Changmin opens his eyes, counting the remaining days till the end of the year. That’s the deadline he set for himself; by that time he’ll have to find a new place. Not that he forgot Jaejoong’s offer to move in together, or Yoochun’s. Changmin simply hasn’t decided anything yet.
Half of his life was wasted making the choices he thought he was supposed to make, and struggling to achieve things he didn’t even want. He doesn’t want to be like that anymore and he knows others will understand - Jaejoong, Yoochun, his family - they won’t judge or blame him, whatever he chooses. It could be like complete freedom, if it didn’t feel safe more than anything else.
It could be happiness.
“Oppa??”
Changmin sharply turns around. Jiyeon is standing at the door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised - a posture that terribly reminds him of their mother.
“You scared me” he complains, rubbing the back of his neck as he stands from his chair.
“Mom called twice already.”
“…Really?”
“Sooyeon is right” his sister says flatly, uncrossing her arms, “you’re more and more like dad.”
“I am not obsessed with birds” Changmin protests, “I was just…”
“Thinking?”
“…Yeah.”
She looks up at the ceiling, silently calling it to witness that he’s a lost cause before grabbing his arm.
“Hurry up. I’ve a test tomorrow, I need to study and I’d rather not eat in five minutes because you and dad are fighting for last at dinner.”
“You became studious overnight?”
Jiyeon stops in the middle of dragging him out of the room. Changmin is trying hard not to smile and she frowns, pointing an accusing finger under his nose.
“You’ve been too pampered recently.”
“Really?”
“Really” she nods, clearly amused in spite of the upset act, “but I’m going to fix it.”
“And how’re you going to do that?”
“You see” Jiyeon sighs dramatically, throwing him a pained look, “there’s that evil thing called derivative and no one could explain me properly how that works…”
“Tomorrow’s test-“
“So I’m going to requisition your brain for tonight.”
“And you had to wait till the last moment before asking?!”
“I went too easy on you” she ignores him, “but I’m going to make up for it, you’ll see!”
Changmin decides it’s safer not to answer. He follows her down the stairs as Jiyeon lists all the things she spared him and charges herself for being too lenient. In her own fashion, she also found the right way to be.
There was that one thing Changmin dreaded about coming back home: finding something complete, where nothing was missing. Where they could go on without him, that family he still needed so much. He wasn’t even aware that it was that much. But Changmin saw them worry, saw them cry when they thought he wasn’t looking, saw them smile hoping he’d smile back. Simple things. So simple he’d forgotten how important they were, and how much they could heal.
Now what strangers could think doesn’t matter as much. It doesn’t feel as if one word, one look, one misstep could break him anymore. And it’s easier to say ‘I want’ and ‘I can’t’ instead of playing the part of someone he isn’t.
Changmin thinks he likes the person he’s learning to be. He thinks that person deserves to be loved, and yes… yes, it could be happiness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today the garden is a celebration - purple, red and gold bursting like a hundred fireworks in an azure and green sky. The very air seems to be blooming with memories and fulfilled hopes, each of them born by a different fragrance, like a crowd of tiny friends pressing around them in a merry dance.
Changmin smiles at Jaejoong, his heart overflowing.
Today they are together, and the walls between them were brought down. They breached silences with words, tended scars with love, and secrets too… the painful bite of the past, buried shames and hidden cries, it has all been laid openly in the light, and only seeing them through each other’s eyes did they realize that none of it was as ugly as they believed. Changmin knows a lot more about Jaejoong now, and in that sense as well they are different from before.
Changmin knows the anger in him, the distrust and defiance, the constant need to be reassured. He knows the anxious eyes relentlessly seeking for a smile, a word, a touch… evidence that here, he’s loved, loved for who he is and no, this time it won’t break in his hands no matter how tightly he holds on. Changmin knows that unlike Yoochun, Jaejoong will never pretend to be strong for him. They tried pretence, once, and it nearly broke them.
And because he knows, Changmin could never bring himself to shun anything Jaejoong is or was. It’s not hard to embrace it all. He did it nearly effortlessly in fact, because across their crumbling walls, Jaejoong was matching each of Changmin’s steps forward with one of his own.
He smiles, and Jaejoong is smiling back at him.
A lock of brown hair covers the older man’s forehead, fluttering with the soft breeze. He dyed his hair two months ago for the first time in years. A dark reddish brown. ‘Mahogany’, Jaejoong insists. ‘Brown’, Changmin retorts, amused by the scowl he invariably gets in answer. Jaejoong’s hair is longer. His cheeks are fuller, the rings under his eyes aren’t as dark as they once were, and when he smiles, Changmin sometimes glimpses the carefree boy Junsu showed him in old pictures.
Sometimes, not now. Jaejoong’s smile now conveys feelings too deep to be a boy’s.
And Changmin may know the worst of him, but he also knows the best. The best of Jaejoong is his, after all. Like his smile right now. Like the strength of his grip when they hold hands. The undertones of his voice when he whispers in his ear - words meant for Changmin alone. The silent dreams that were reborn, fierce hopes he won’t let go of, a gaze enveloping like a caress or a storm… the way he trusts and loves, blindly and with those eyes that say ‘you you you’ with such faith that sometimes Changmin thinks it could make him cry.
Today the garden is throbbing along a silent pulse - an explosion of life driven by the quiet strength of not just Jaejoong’s love, because there is Changmin’s. Because next to Jaejoong’s heartbeat, there’s Changmin’s beating in unison, and in some times like now they cannot be told apart anymore.
Today the garden is under their spell. Today and tomorrow, and all the days after that, the world is nothing more than the great scenery that they are walking through. And the world may darken, the world may hurt and shake, but it won’t undo them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Junsu had to be here… he had to, though he knew it would be hard. He didn’t think it’d be that hard however, and even as he fights yet another surge of anxiety, he finds himself relieved that something came up at the school that kept Yunho busy. His boyfriend may not be as exposed as the rest of them, but the past months took their toll all the same and Junsu doesn’t want him more involved than he already is.
Junsu found out as weeks passed that he could bear with about anything - stares, scorn, rumors, threats, blind hate and sick assumptions - he didn’t let it shake him. He may be Kim Junjin’s son, but the people who matter are on his side and with them, he can endure it. As long as it’s him and not Yunho under fire. He doesn’t care what the older man says because while Junsu is somehow able to withstand it, he knows all too well what some parts of it would do to Yunho.
Today, for instance. Today would crush him.
Junsu doesn’t know what’s worse - the stifling heat in the crowded room, the endless probing at details he had hoped he’d never know about, the yelping voices of judges and lawyers… the running fire of questions they put Yoochun, Changmin and Jaejoong through. The hunched figure of his mother next to him, her head hanging low, pale hands tightly clasped on her lap. She wanted to be here too.
It’s only the first day of trial and Junsu already feels suffocated. The worst has yet to come though, and apprehension coils in the pit of his stomach when they announce the defendants.
A voice recites a long series of names - Japanese, foreign, adrift - before a door opens. Faces replace the names. Blank eyes, hard expressions. A few look ill-at-ease but most don’t betray anything. Then there’s that man… the last one to enter, the hint of a smile playing on impossibly thin lips. Junsu can tell at once that this one hasn’t felt anything in a very long time. He shudders.
Five rows ahead of him, Yoochun moves imperceptibly closer to Changmin. They didn’t avert their eyes but Changmin is pale as death and Yoochun is staring into emptiness, the two of them worlds away from here, back to the edges of an engulfing darkness.
Next to them, Jaejoong leaned forward. He’s studying the men’s faces intently, his gaze dark and piercing, his expression a cold mask. But when his eyes find the last one - still smiling, looking at his judges like he’d an audience - Junsu sees Jaejoong stiffen. He sees anger in those eyes like he never saw before… icy, iron. Loathing. The need to hurt and inflict even only a tenth of all the pain that was endured, again and again, and again, because it will never be undone and someone has to pay for it.
Not a helpless teen or a brokenhearted lover; this is well beyond betrayal or the feeling of unfairness that used to drive Jaejoong’s fierce fits of anger, as heated as they were passionate.
There’s no passion in that one. It’s dead - no amount of time or feelings will be enough to uproot it. That’s also their doing, Junsu thinks, glancing at the men. They are guilty of that too, but won’t be judged for it.
Five rows ahead of him, Changmin lowered his eyes. There’s that air about him again, like when he was still at the hospital… lost and distant, seeking nothingness and silence, refusing reality with all the strength he had left.
Without warning, guilt takes hold of him again and Junsu feels queasy. Too hot. Too cold. Out of place. They started with the questions again and he wants to get out of here, then his mother clumsily takes his hand. Her own hand is small and thin, weary, willing to offer whatever little comfort she can. Junsu tightens his hold, and doesn’t let go for the rest of the afternoon.
Late into the night, Changmin wakes up thirsty, his throat dry and a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. He waits for his sight to adjust to the darkness before getting out of bed, careful not to wake up Jaejoong. The older man rolls over to his side at once, unconsciously seeking the lost warmth of his body. Changmin gazes at him silently for a while until the need for water becomes too strong and he heads to the bathroom.
He closes the door behind him, turns the lights on and goes straight to the sink. He drinks directly from the tap and splashes water on his face when he’s done. Every sound echoes eerily in the empty bathroom. The water is cool on his heated skin, snaking down his face, his neck, his forearms.
It’s silent. Night. Quiet and queer, like he’s walking through a strange dream. As if unreal.
Changmin isn’t sure what does it.
One moment he’s here, looking down at his hands and at the water dripping from his fingers. The next he’s staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and reality overturns.
It’s him, in that mirror. A pale face. Eyes puffy with sleep. Damp strands of dark hair stuck to his temples and forehead. That’s him. The rings under his eyes. So tired, he thinks… so thin, so nearly ethereal, lacking substance, unfamiliar, except he’s here. That’s him. Changmin. Him. And he’s here.
He startles at the feel of his own fingers on his cheek. Touching. Making sure.
That’s him, Changmin, and he’s here.
So why does it suddenly feel like he isn’t?
Goosebumps cover his forearms. That person in the mirror is staring at him. His reflection is real too… real, as real as him, right? Real yet it doesn’t exist. It’ll disappear when the lights are turned off, and Changmin, that Changmin before him with his pale face and tired eyes, will he fade away too?
A stone hand wraps around his heart, and squeezes, squeezes tight… tight, tighter and he shakes his head, tries to shake himself, to get a grip- it’s not working. He could be dreaming this… doubting, probing at reality again and again until it starts turning delusive. False. Empty. Maybe a lie, an illusion… maybe an image stuck in a corner of his brain and playing out in his sleep, making him believe that Changmin right now is safe and everything is over and it’s fine. But maybe Changmin is still trapped there, trapped in darkness and the delirium of fever.
Or maybe nothing happened. Nothing. It all burnt, it’s gone, gone and far away and never to be found again, a charred nightmare.
It’s hard to breathe. His chest is too tight. Beads of sweat gather on his forehead. He feels sick. Surely he’s not dreaming this… he can’t be. He sways on his feet and grabs the sink for support. It’s hard, cool. His T-shirt sticks to his skin and he’s breathing fast, he hears… he feels his chest falling and rising faster and faster, and he’s not dreaming this.
His reflection is leaning on the sink, even paler than before. It looks wan. Sick. It still looks like Changmin but not really, not anymore - is Changmin supposed to look that faint? - he remembers Changmin, many of them; Changmin crying and fighting, when he gives up and when he’s in love, countless images, and suddenly it’s hard to tell which ones are true. He isn’t so sure that any of them ever happened. And maybe they happened, and maybe they are all dead already.
He shudders violently, striving to keep phantom touches away but here… here, cutting through his wrists and scratching his knees, the palms of his hands. Throbbing at his temples, piercing through his leg, and the heat… fever eating at him, devouring thoughts and feelings and robbing him of himself, and pain, pain everywhere, but that’s not the worst of it and he whimpers, defenses yielding all at once as the one he keeps trying to escape touches him again.
On the forehead. A cold circle of metal spelling death. A gun poised here, on the side of his head… barely there, a touch so small and delicate yet about to take it all away, and he can see the man’s smile now. He can hear Yoochun scream, he can feel a gun marking his skin with icy fire - what if it shot already? What if the dream right now is not a dream but the very last moment of his life stretching… stretching hopelessly as his mind fails him and feeds him lies while in truth Changmin is already gone, and that’s why he looks so thin, so fake to his own eyes.
His hand slips on the sink, slick with sweat, and he barely keeps upright. He looks up again. Sees the silent tears on his face, carving burning trails where cold water flowed before. He tightens his fists. Clenches his jaw. It didn’t happen. None of it happened, he thinks desperately, nothing, not the gun, not the pain, the fear surrounding him and Yoochun’s torn cries, and the way they looked at him as they talked in the crowded audience room.
They weren’t there, they said to the judges. It wasn’t them.
Look, it’s all burnt. It’s gone. No proof.
It’s burnt.
No proof.
All burnt.
Can’t you see Changmin burned too? Saying nonsense. Speaking of things that didn’t happen. They didn’t do it. The fever got his brain and his memories are as fickle as ashes, half mad, half dead.
He bites down hard on his lower lip and tastes blood in his mouth. That didn’t happen either. He doesn’t want it to have happened. He wants it gone, he just… just wants it gone, all of it, and the heat and memories, and how it hurt, how everything felt like it was ending, cold metal on his forehead and the smile on the man’s face as he held up the gun. I have your life, the smile said, right here. Look, I’m going to take it… I’m going to end it and you cannot stop me.
It didn’t happen and he abruptly moves away from the sink, staggering on his feet. He blinks tears away from his eyes. His heart is pounding so hard he hears it inside, outside, a torrent of blood and panic flooding the last coherent thoughts as he tugs on his pajama pants harshly, pulling one of the legs up. It’s not here, it’s not, it’s not, he’s thinking, praying, it didn’t happen, please it didn’t, it didn’t, it didn’t. Please.
He freezes when he sees the scar on his knee.
The pounding of blood in his ears fades, dulled, distant. It’s not here, part of him is still chanting like an empty echo, but it is here. The scar, like a star… red and white, broken skin, still smooth to the touch and still looking so raw.
All of a sudden Changmin is Changmin again and reality crashes back down. His legs give in under him.
Blinding bathroom lights are pouring down on him. His head throbs and he can’t keep the memories away, elusive images swirling around him, now like a broken dam. It happened, all of it, it happened - the gun, the blows, their words, and tears, cruel darkness, fever and blood, failed, fell, too late, tried but not enough, and dying now was all that was left.
A gun against his forehead. Just a small touch, unbearable, haunting.
It refuses to fade. It’s here, still here, no matter how much time passes and even when Changmin rubs at it, pressing hard, willing it gone… gone, more than anything else. He’d rip that patch of skin away if he could. He’d dig a hole in its place just as he’d carve out of his memories the broken remnants of what happened in KangBuk.
He breathes in sharply, struggling for air. He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t remember what happened exactly, except that it did happen. There was Death and him and nothing in between… Death with a cold, thin smile, and a few days ago it stared straight into his eyes again. It stared and smiled and just like that the gun was back, and Changmin realized it would never quite leave.
Just as the wave of memories swells with renewed strength, just as he buckles under their ghostly weight, suddenly Jaejoong is here.
Changmin knows it’s him the moment arms wrap around his shoulders.
He reaches for him at once, instinctively diverting the destructive force of the onslaught of memories aside and into those arms instead - forcibly pushing sensations and thoughts toward the salvation that is Jaejoong, focusing on him with all his might.
He tries to say his name but there is too little air; it’s like Jaejoong heard anyway and the embrace tightens. Changmin clings onto him, pulling him as close as possible, needing the strength of the one who has dried all his tears - he’s half gone already, half burned maybe, but Jaejoong will bring him back. Jaejoong will catch him, as he always does.
He happened too, a small voice whispers fiercely inside his head, Jaejoong happened.
So Changmin stops struggling. Changmin lets it all go, and waits for the moment when it will be safe to open his eyes again.
Part B.
Pairings: JaeMin, HoSu, JaeSu (past), YooMin bff
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance, Angst, Drama
Summary:
They both gave up on love, one thinking that he doesn’t deserve it and the other unable to let go of a painful past. As Changmin and Jaejoong slowly discover in the other something they weren’t aware they needed, they don’t know yet that their growing feelings will get tangled in a web of secrets. And that it may change everything in a merciless fight between truth and power.
Epilogue. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder
If beauty is all in the eye of the beholder, then I wish you could see…
There is a garden that used to be golden… golden, silver and black, shadows carving patterns into brightness as the pale sun lowered in a grey winter sky. A cold evening in a foreign country. A quiet place, hidden and safe, preserved from the agitation of the bustling city it was nestled in. A haven like a jewel casket, beautiful and rare in itself, sheltering a secret as precious as it was delicate.
It was still unborn, back then.
Dreams were all they had, along with the feelings unfolding within their hearts with every passing day - nurtured by touches and looks and above all by the growing tension between them, so powerful it had become palpable.
Changmin remembers. Silences loaded with emotions. How every word, every glance carried deeper meanings. All the lines they had blurred, crossed and tried and fought against already until neither of them knew were they stood, except that it was too far yet not far enough. And the garden still holds a special place in his memories… a momentum of their story among many others, but this one he cherishes particularly for no other reason than it was brimming with hopes that all came true.
Changmin remembers the overwhelming awareness of Jaejoong’s presence beside him. Jaejoong who had held onto him a few days before, who had cried, shattered and let him see the pieces of him. Jaejoong who had made Changmin someone else the moment he entrusted it all to him - someone Changmin never dared to imagine he could be - undoing them both, patching them anew, binding them forever.
Changmin remembers holding his hand. He remembers the urge to embrace him again. To be close… closer, together, to tell him once more the words that had changed everything - that he cared, and so much more than that. That he loved him. That he wanted this moment to last forever… a stolen hour in a golden garden, a parenthesis become eternity.
Today the garden is a different place. It stages a vibrant frenzy of colors, yellow, red and orange, flowers big and small blooming in every corner, the bright blue sky above, the rich green of grass and the dark one of trees. The air is heavily fragranced and in the background, quiet, the lulling song of running water rises from a stream meandering amidst greens and bushes. Sometimes a blinding spark catches the eye, sun and water splashing droplets of light as if winking at them.
Changmin looks at Jaejoong, and smiles.
Today they are different people, and the colors filling their hearts are so much brighter too. It’s not frail anymore, but what makes them strong. It’s not a secret. It is who they are.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rain catches him unaware. The sky was clear when he left so Jaejoong opted for walking, but that was counting without the changeable weather at that time of the year. It takes five minutes for dark clouds to gather, two more for the thin October drizzle to threaten to turn into an icy shower, and soon he has no choice but to rush inside the first store he finds, pretty much like everyone in the area.
The place is crowded already. The air is moist and warm, excited chatter filling the stuffy room as staff desperately struggles to maintain order. Jaejoong forces his way through the crowd until he finds shelter between the wall and a bookshelf standing only thanks to a miracle of sorts. He barely had the time to breathe in relief when two high-school girls squeeze themselves into his hiding place, drenched and giggling.
Unsurprisingly, and even though Jaejoong hates the idea that he’s getting used to it, the giggles turn into whispers as soon as they spot him. He scowls, stubbornly looking at his feet. He can’t ignore their eyes on him though, and he’s seriously considering facing pouring rain instead when his phone rings. One glance at the screen and Jaejoong smiles.
“Hey…” he says as neutrally as he can, aware of the furious whispering going on next to him as he answers the call.
“Wow, such enthusiasm…”
His smile widens hearing Changmin’s flat tone.
“Sorry… not the best time to talk.”
“I thought the meeting was over?”
“It is. I was on my way to Junsu’s but it started raining and now I’m stuck inside a store” Jaejoong quickly glances at the girls.
“Kinda noisy” he adds in a lower voice.
“Oh…”
“You wanted to tell me something?”
“Mmh…” Changmin hums pensively. “I think… no, not exactly. Well, yes actually… but it’s not very important so-“
“What is it?”
Jaejoong leans against the wall, now oblivious of the two pairs of eyes fixed on him.
They had yet another appointment at the court this afternoon - rather useless if you ask him but Hwang-sshi, their lawyer, is on the edge with the trial starting next month; he cannot blame her for wanting to make sure they tied up all loose ends. Jaejoong had to cancel at the last minute though. Something had come up in Kim Industries again, and as much dedication as Dongwon is putting in the task of righting things there, he can’t deal with everything at the same time.
So Changmin went alone. And while the young man did recover impressively fast, Jaejoong still has only too many reasons to feel wary. Dealing with the aftermath of what happened in KangBuk is far from easy and the past months were strenuous for all of them. God knows they would need a respite.
“You’re okay?” Jaejoong probes when Changmin doesn’t answer, frowning.
“Yeah… yeah I’m fine.”
Another silence, long enough for Jaejoong to notice that the number of people in the store seemingly doubled while he wasn’t paying attention. It must be raining hard outside.
“You know… the lawyer’s assistant, Yoon-sshi?” Changmin provides at last, his voice distant and muffled amidst the buzzing noise of the conversations around.
Jaejoong hums in answer, picturing round glasses circling a pair of scrutinizing eyes. A monotonous voice. And arrogance, barely concealed. The kind of guy who believes he’s always right.
“He said he wanted to talk to me. Privately.”
“And?”
“Well… we went to his office…”
“If you’re trying to make me jealous here it’s not working” Jaejoong lowers his voice. “I know Yoon-sshi, and I also know for a fact that you’ve better taste than that.”
Changmin laughs and Jaejoong smiles to himself, pleased to hear him relax.
“What did he tell you?” he insists, glancing at his watch. Nearly 6PM.
“He said it’d be better if we didn’t brag about… you know, you and me” Changmin blurts out, “that it’d make it simpler during the hearing if we make it sound like we’re friends or something.”
“Brag?”
Jaejoong tenses, his frown reappearing.
“That’s what he said…” Changmin continues hesitantly, “but I’m sure Hwang-sshi doesn’t know about it. He probably-”
“And what did you answer?”
“I… I’m not sure.”
“And that means…?”
Changmin sighs heavily, and Jaejoong pictures him threading a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I tried to think of what you’d say…” the answer comes reluctantly a moment later.
“You told him to get lost?”
“…”
“Min?”
“…Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Jaejoong fights a sudden urge to laugh, though a part of him still wants to do painful things to Yoon-sshi and his glasses.
“That’s a bit vague” he teases.
“I told you I don’t know” Changmin protests halfheartedly, “I was upset but I knew I shouldn’t, and he… I said something then I left, and he was making that face, and-don’t laugh.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“How was your day?”
“Smooth…”
“Whatever. The meeting. How did it go?”
Jaejoong leans against the wall again, still smiling.
“Awful.”
“What happened?”
“Shareholders are all riled up. They kept questioning the past three years’ financial statements. Seunghyun decided he’d had enough halfway through the meeting.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah.”
“That’s bad?”
“Depends on what you call ‘bad’…”
“If it’s Seunghyun then I’ve got a pretty good idea.”
Jaejoong doesn’t answer at once, feeling weary just thinking back of the afternoon’s events. Respite, right. They all need that but as it is, they can only make do with every small moment they can steal. Like now.
“I wish you’d been here” he says softly at last. “You’d have drowned them in figures and facts, and you’d have sounded so sure about it that no one would have dared to contradict you.”
“I’m not like that.”
“You are… a little.”
Jaejoong smiles to himself again, unaware of the fond look that briefly softens his features.
By some kind of weird twist of fate, the best backup they’ve had the past months to keep Kim Industries going is the exact useless work that was asked from Changmin when he arrived in the company. Amidst the complete chaos that followed Kim Junjin’s death and the revelations about Hyakunincho’s fire, the data the young man patiently gathered and organized during months proved to be incomparably helpful. That’s what they call the irony of life, Jaejoong supposes.
“Where are you now?” he asks, distracted by a sudden rush of people towards the store exit. Looks like rain finally stopped.
“I just got off the bus. I’ll be home in five minutes.”
“You’re still coming over next week-end, right?” Jaejoong can’t help but ask, trying to sound casual about it and failing miserably. The last time he saw Changmin was yesterday morning; he could swear it’s been a whole week.
“Of course.”
“Good.”
“You can come tonight, you know, if you miss me that much” Changmin adds with a hint of teasing in his voice, “no one will mind.”
“Junsu will mind” Jaejoong retorts, “Wednesdays are his, remember.”
“I didn’t know we were fighting for your custody.”
“But I’ll come tomorrow, maybe” Jaejoong ignores him, slowly making his way toward the exit.
“No problem. Sorry I need to hang up, I keep receiving texts-”
“And Yoochun will start freaking out in about ten seconds if you don’t answer.”
“…Right.”
“Ok. See you tomorrow then.”
“Yes… Jae?”
Jaejoong hums, peering outside before stepping out. The sky is already clearing, patches of blue quickly chasing the last grey clouds. It’s neither warm nor sunny, but the surroundings look bright and clean with the special sheen that usually follows rain.
“I love you” Changmin says quietly on the other side of the line.
Jaejoong stills, the three words tugging at his heart gently.
He wouldn’t be able to explain why… why after so many months it feels like it was yesterday when they first said it. It could be because of what they went through or because he doesn’t want to ever take them for granted, those words. It could be because of how Changmin says them - not out of habit, not thrown distractedly at the end of a talk as means of “goodbye”.
‘I love you’ never means any less than what it’s supposed to mean, when Changmin says it.
It’s all it takes for Jaejoong’s heart to start beating faster. And he suddenly misses him, misses him so much it aches like half of him isn’t here… needs him close, needs him here, right here and their hands touching, their eyes meeting, the feelings and closeness and shared certainties. Everything.
Jaejoong hasn’t moved from his spot in front of the store when they end the call. It won’t be long before the sky darkens but for now the autumn sun is still shining, its pale light reflecting on puddles of rain. The two high-school girls are far ahead, heads leaning towards each other as they talk. He knows they recognized him - the recent events gave him more media exposure than he expected, along with unwanted fame - but he doesn’t care as much now.
Strangers are bustling about in familiar streets, and he wishes Changmin was here.
Jaejoong misses him. It’s a faint ache, blended longing and need, and it isn’t sad or painful, no. It’s warm instead… so warm that Jaejoong finds himself praying that he’ll miss him always, no matter how close they’ll get. Now even absence glows, and makes his heart feel full.
11 texts in 5min, that’s a new record hyung
…Hyung?
Great. Now you’re ignoring me.
You do know you’re too old for sulking?
> I’m not sulking
Here you are ^^
Yoochun smiles, rolling over on the bed to get on his stomach - said bed being the only furniture in the room. He moved in a couple days ago; there’s nothing in his new flat besides the necessary stuff and piles of boxes to empty. There’s no noise other than the light tapping of his fingers on his phone. It’s quiet.
Too quiet.
He’s uncomfortable with silence yet the need to watch out for every small sound still hasn’t disappeared.
> You’re home now, Minnie?
Yes.
> All is fine?
Damn. He’s even worse than Jaejoong.
Yes. And you’re even worse than Jae.
Yoochun grins, relaxing a little. He can’t help it. He knows he worries too much but it’s not his fault. It’s the past months. It’s all the what if, could’ve, maybe, nearly, and how it felt like it’d never end.
The police reopened Hyakunincho’s fire investigations based on the equivalent of eight years of patient searches, saved on that disk that could’ve cost him so much. Witnesses once forced into silence finally dared to speak up. Media exposure made it impossible for authorities to pretend not to see. All in all, it’s everything Yoochun hoped would happen. It hardly feels like winning.
He just wants it to be over, really over. It’ll soon be thirteen years and he wants to leave them behind. Move on. End it. He wants to, but he has yet to find how.
You still owe me lunch hyung
> Really?
Jiyeon’s friend. Remember?
> Ah… still not convinced.
Why?
> She got really mad the last time I mentioned him
It wasn’t ‘mentioning’. It was you harassing her with inappropriate questions.
> Are you really sure he’s not her boyfriend?
YES
> Cos it could be the oppa instincts blinding you…
Maybe it’s just your twisted way of thinking?
> What do you mean?
> And is it ok for you to make bets about your little sister?
Don’t quibble now. I won. Feed me.
Yoochun smiles once more. He thinks that’s what he’s most thankful about: that Changmin knows how to make it simple. Of course there’s guilt, remorse, fear… heavy feelings Yoochun hasn’t found a way to come to terms with yet. It’s hard, how could it not be?
It’s hard, but it doesn’t have to be complicated. Because it’s still here, that thing between them. They still work, even as circumstances changed drastically. Changmin won’t give up on him, the same way Yoochun refused to let him fall in what feels like another life. And he will never know how to say ‘I need you’ the way Changmin does, but somewhere along the way, such words became useless.
> You told Jaejoong?
Of course, but I thought I should tell you too
> Really?
It’s just that you understand better
And don’t tell Jae I said that
> I think Jaejoong understands just fine…
Not helping hyung
I need to sort it out with you, that’s all
> Ok ok…
> What do you mean, “sort it out”?
Talk. All that.
> There’s nothing to talk about, that guy’s a moron
^^
> It upset you that much?
I didn’t expect it. I thought Yoon-sshi rather liked us.
> It’s not important Min
I know
> You’re sure?
Yeah
> Good
> So what did you answer him exactly?
I don’t remember
> Liar. What was it?
I forgot
> Come oooon I won’t tell anyone
No
> Please?
No
> Dinner. Japanese. Next week.
You think I’m that easy???
> Yes :)
I hate you
At least some things haven’t changed - in appearance, that is. It’s still Changmin going to him whenever he needs help. It’s still Yoochun trying to be everything ‘hyung’ should be, reassuring and dependable. Except that the roles switched, and as subtle as it is, it’s obvious for them both.
Yoochun can’t say he’s surprised.
Changmin has his family back, and Jaejoong, and Yoochun. Feelings he’s sure of, that he can rely on. He found confidence, this time within himself. Changmin knows what he wants and who he really is; he now has countless things to give while Yoochun happens to need so much. And Changmin being Changmin, he doesn’t even have to ask.
So are you free on Friday?
> Always free for you, Minnie-ah~~ <3
Shut up
> Language
I’ll charge you extra dessert
> You ALWAYS take extra dessert
Double extra
> Ok
And whipped cream
> Now that’s low
:P
They argue and joke around. They talk. They let each other know when something is not okay. They aren’t too sure about how to approach some topics, sometimes too shy, clumsy. They try. They can try as many times as they want - whatever the outcome is, there’ll always be another chance.
Changmin has his family back, and Jaejoong, and confidence and hopes. Changmin forgot nothing of those times when he had only one hand to hold onto, and that hand was Yoochun’s. They still need each other. Need - as part of the other’s life, what made them who they are.
Yoochun thinks needing is not a bad way to start again. No… he thinks that this time, he’ll know how to do it right. And even if he does it wrong, there’ll be someone to tell him “it’s alright”.
Changmin puts his phone on the desk and leans back in his chair, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It’s not late but the day has been busy… or rather, he isn’t used anymore to what you’d call a normal pace.
Officially he isn’t working, though he sometimes gives a hand at Kim Industries. He isn’t ready yet for a new well-oiled routine. So much happened in a few months and questions naturally arose about what to do now - future, possibilities. Memories of a time when he wanted more than just what life would throw his way. There is a lot to sort out, but Changmin figures it’s okay if it takes time.
Ten minutes till dinner. He closes his eyes, breathes in, and smiles - it smells like home.
It was his mother’s idea.
When doctors first spoke about discharging him from the hospital, they warned he’d need a quiet environment; calm and silence, ideally not alone. Jaejoong’s place seemed an obvious choice and Changmin had been about to say so, but his mother proposed him to come back home before he had a chance to speak out, and it caught him off-guard. Jaejoong noticed that split-second of hesitation, and soon he was listing all the advantages of Changmin going to live with his family for a while.
That was four months ago, and thinking back of how much anguish the mere thought of ‘home’ used to stir up, four months is indeed a small miracle - one he had been waiting for for so long.
They started retrieving lost times.
There were many things Changmin never got a chance to say, and day after day, the words found a way out - good and bad. There was a lot he needed to hear too, and a lot he needed to see for himself. Years of silence and pretence to fix. At times it seemed easy, and at times he couldn’t. It’s still not as right as it should be, but they’re getting there. Home feels like home again.
Changmin opens his eyes, counting the remaining days till the end of the year. That’s the deadline he set for himself; by that time he’ll have to find a new place. Not that he forgot Jaejoong’s offer to move in together, or Yoochun’s. Changmin simply hasn’t decided anything yet.
Half of his life was wasted making the choices he thought he was supposed to make, and struggling to achieve things he didn’t even want. He doesn’t want to be like that anymore and he knows others will understand - Jaejoong, Yoochun, his family - they won’t judge or blame him, whatever he chooses. It could be like complete freedom, if it didn’t feel safe more than anything else.
It could be happiness.
“Oppa??”
Changmin sharply turns around. Jiyeon is standing at the door, arms crossed, eyebrows raised - a posture that terribly reminds him of their mother.
“You scared me” he complains, rubbing the back of his neck as he stands from his chair.
“Mom called twice already.”
“…Really?”
“Sooyeon is right” his sister says flatly, uncrossing her arms, “you’re more and more like dad.”
“I am not obsessed with birds” Changmin protests, “I was just…”
“Thinking?”
“…Yeah.”
She looks up at the ceiling, silently calling it to witness that he’s a lost cause before grabbing his arm.
“Hurry up. I’ve a test tomorrow, I need to study and I’d rather not eat in five minutes because you and dad are fighting for last at dinner.”
“You became studious overnight?”
Jiyeon stops in the middle of dragging him out of the room. Changmin is trying hard not to smile and she frowns, pointing an accusing finger under his nose.
“You’ve been too pampered recently.”
“Really?”
“Really” she nods, clearly amused in spite of the upset act, “but I’m going to fix it.”
“And how’re you going to do that?”
“You see” Jiyeon sighs dramatically, throwing him a pained look, “there’s that evil thing called derivative and no one could explain me properly how that works…”
“Tomorrow’s test-“
“So I’m going to requisition your brain for tonight.”
“And you had to wait till the last moment before asking?!”
“I went too easy on you” she ignores him, “but I’m going to make up for it, you’ll see!”
Changmin decides it’s safer not to answer. He follows her down the stairs as Jiyeon lists all the things she spared him and charges herself for being too lenient. In her own fashion, she also found the right way to be.
There was that one thing Changmin dreaded about coming back home: finding something complete, where nothing was missing. Where they could go on without him, that family he still needed so much. He wasn’t even aware that it was that much. But Changmin saw them worry, saw them cry when they thought he wasn’t looking, saw them smile hoping he’d smile back. Simple things. So simple he’d forgotten how important they were, and how much they could heal.
Now what strangers could think doesn’t matter as much. It doesn’t feel as if one word, one look, one misstep could break him anymore. And it’s easier to say ‘I want’ and ‘I can’t’ instead of playing the part of someone he isn’t.
Changmin thinks he likes the person he’s learning to be. He thinks that person deserves to be loved, and yes… yes, it could be happiness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today the garden is a celebration - purple, red and gold bursting like a hundred fireworks in an azure and green sky. The very air seems to be blooming with memories and fulfilled hopes, each of them born by a different fragrance, like a crowd of tiny friends pressing around them in a merry dance.
Changmin smiles at Jaejoong, his heart overflowing.
Today they are together, and the walls between them were brought down. They breached silences with words, tended scars with love, and secrets too… the painful bite of the past, buried shames and hidden cries, it has all been laid openly in the light, and only seeing them through each other’s eyes did they realize that none of it was as ugly as they believed. Changmin knows a lot more about Jaejoong now, and in that sense as well they are different from before.
Changmin knows the anger in him, the distrust and defiance, the constant need to be reassured. He knows the anxious eyes relentlessly seeking for a smile, a word, a touch… evidence that here, he’s loved, loved for who he is and no, this time it won’t break in his hands no matter how tightly he holds on. Changmin knows that unlike Yoochun, Jaejoong will never pretend to be strong for him. They tried pretence, once, and it nearly broke them.
And because he knows, Changmin could never bring himself to shun anything Jaejoong is or was. It’s not hard to embrace it all. He did it nearly effortlessly in fact, because across their crumbling walls, Jaejoong was matching each of Changmin’s steps forward with one of his own.
He smiles, and Jaejoong is smiling back at him.
A lock of brown hair covers the older man’s forehead, fluttering with the soft breeze. He dyed his hair two months ago for the first time in years. A dark reddish brown. ‘Mahogany’, Jaejoong insists. ‘Brown’, Changmin retorts, amused by the scowl he invariably gets in answer. Jaejoong’s hair is longer. His cheeks are fuller, the rings under his eyes aren’t as dark as they once were, and when he smiles, Changmin sometimes glimpses the carefree boy Junsu showed him in old pictures.
Sometimes, not now. Jaejoong’s smile now conveys feelings too deep to be a boy’s.
And Changmin may know the worst of him, but he also knows the best. The best of Jaejoong is his, after all. Like his smile right now. Like the strength of his grip when they hold hands. The undertones of his voice when he whispers in his ear - words meant for Changmin alone. The silent dreams that were reborn, fierce hopes he won’t let go of, a gaze enveloping like a caress or a storm… the way he trusts and loves, blindly and with those eyes that say ‘you you you’ with such faith that sometimes Changmin thinks it could make him cry.
Today the garden is throbbing along a silent pulse - an explosion of life driven by the quiet strength of not just Jaejoong’s love, because there is Changmin’s. Because next to Jaejoong’s heartbeat, there’s Changmin’s beating in unison, and in some times like now they cannot be told apart anymore.
Today the garden is under their spell. Today and tomorrow, and all the days after that, the world is nothing more than the great scenery that they are walking through. And the world may darken, the world may hurt and shake, but it won’t undo them.
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Junsu had to be here… he had to, though he knew it would be hard. He didn’t think it’d be that hard however, and even as he fights yet another surge of anxiety, he finds himself relieved that something came up at the school that kept Yunho busy. His boyfriend may not be as exposed as the rest of them, but the past months took their toll all the same and Junsu doesn’t want him more involved than he already is.
Junsu found out as weeks passed that he could bear with about anything - stares, scorn, rumors, threats, blind hate and sick assumptions - he didn’t let it shake him. He may be Kim Junjin’s son, but the people who matter are on his side and with them, he can endure it. As long as it’s him and not Yunho under fire. He doesn’t care what the older man says because while Junsu is somehow able to withstand it, he knows all too well what some parts of it would do to Yunho.
Today, for instance. Today would crush him.
Junsu doesn’t know what’s worse - the stifling heat in the crowded room, the endless probing at details he had hoped he’d never know about, the yelping voices of judges and lawyers… the running fire of questions they put Yoochun, Changmin and Jaejoong through. The hunched figure of his mother next to him, her head hanging low, pale hands tightly clasped on her lap. She wanted to be here too.
It’s only the first day of trial and Junsu already feels suffocated. The worst has yet to come though, and apprehension coils in the pit of his stomach when they announce the defendants.
A voice recites a long series of names - Japanese, foreign, adrift - before a door opens. Faces replace the names. Blank eyes, hard expressions. A few look ill-at-ease but most don’t betray anything. Then there’s that man… the last one to enter, the hint of a smile playing on impossibly thin lips. Junsu can tell at once that this one hasn’t felt anything in a very long time. He shudders.
Five rows ahead of him, Yoochun moves imperceptibly closer to Changmin. They didn’t avert their eyes but Changmin is pale as death and Yoochun is staring into emptiness, the two of them worlds away from here, back to the edges of an engulfing darkness.
Next to them, Jaejoong leaned forward. He’s studying the men’s faces intently, his gaze dark and piercing, his expression a cold mask. But when his eyes find the last one - still smiling, looking at his judges like he’d an audience - Junsu sees Jaejoong stiffen. He sees anger in those eyes like he never saw before… icy, iron. Loathing. The need to hurt and inflict even only a tenth of all the pain that was endured, again and again, and again, because it will never be undone and someone has to pay for it.
Not a helpless teen or a brokenhearted lover; this is well beyond betrayal or the feeling of unfairness that used to drive Jaejoong’s fierce fits of anger, as heated as they were passionate.
There’s no passion in that one. It’s dead - no amount of time or feelings will be enough to uproot it. That’s also their doing, Junsu thinks, glancing at the men. They are guilty of that too, but won’t be judged for it.
Five rows ahead of him, Changmin lowered his eyes. There’s that air about him again, like when he was still at the hospital… lost and distant, seeking nothingness and silence, refusing reality with all the strength he had left.
Without warning, guilt takes hold of him again and Junsu feels queasy. Too hot. Too cold. Out of place. They started with the questions again and he wants to get out of here, then his mother clumsily takes his hand. Her own hand is small and thin, weary, willing to offer whatever little comfort she can. Junsu tightens his hold, and doesn’t let go for the rest of the afternoon.
Late into the night, Changmin wakes up thirsty, his throat dry and a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. He waits for his sight to adjust to the darkness before getting out of bed, careful not to wake up Jaejoong. The older man rolls over to his side at once, unconsciously seeking the lost warmth of his body. Changmin gazes at him silently for a while until the need for water becomes too strong and he heads to the bathroom.
He closes the door behind him, turns the lights on and goes straight to the sink. He drinks directly from the tap and splashes water on his face when he’s done. Every sound echoes eerily in the empty bathroom. The water is cool on his heated skin, snaking down his face, his neck, his forearms.
It’s silent. Night. Quiet and queer, like he’s walking through a strange dream. As if unreal.
Changmin isn’t sure what does it.
One moment he’s here, looking down at his hands and at the water dripping from his fingers. The next he’s staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and reality overturns.
It’s him, in that mirror. A pale face. Eyes puffy with sleep. Damp strands of dark hair stuck to his temples and forehead. That’s him. The rings under his eyes. So tired, he thinks… so thin, so nearly ethereal, lacking substance, unfamiliar, except he’s here. That’s him. Changmin. Him. And he’s here.
He startles at the feel of his own fingers on his cheek. Touching. Making sure.
That’s him, Changmin, and he’s here.
So why does it suddenly feel like he isn’t?
Goosebumps cover his forearms. That person in the mirror is staring at him. His reflection is real too… real, as real as him, right? Real yet it doesn’t exist. It’ll disappear when the lights are turned off, and Changmin, that Changmin before him with his pale face and tired eyes, will he fade away too?
A stone hand wraps around his heart, and squeezes, squeezes tight… tight, tighter and he shakes his head, tries to shake himself, to get a grip- it’s not working. He could be dreaming this… doubting, probing at reality again and again until it starts turning delusive. False. Empty. Maybe a lie, an illusion… maybe an image stuck in a corner of his brain and playing out in his sleep, making him believe that Changmin right now is safe and everything is over and it’s fine. But maybe Changmin is still trapped there, trapped in darkness and the delirium of fever.
Or maybe nothing happened. Nothing. It all burnt, it’s gone, gone and far away and never to be found again, a charred nightmare.
It’s hard to breathe. His chest is too tight. Beads of sweat gather on his forehead. He feels sick. Surely he’s not dreaming this… he can’t be. He sways on his feet and grabs the sink for support. It’s hard, cool. His T-shirt sticks to his skin and he’s breathing fast, he hears… he feels his chest falling and rising faster and faster, and he’s not dreaming this.
His reflection is leaning on the sink, even paler than before. It looks wan. Sick. It still looks like Changmin but not really, not anymore - is Changmin supposed to look that faint? - he remembers Changmin, many of them; Changmin crying and fighting, when he gives up and when he’s in love, countless images, and suddenly it’s hard to tell which ones are true. He isn’t so sure that any of them ever happened. And maybe they happened, and maybe they are all dead already.
He shudders violently, striving to keep phantom touches away but here… here, cutting through his wrists and scratching his knees, the palms of his hands. Throbbing at his temples, piercing through his leg, and the heat… fever eating at him, devouring thoughts and feelings and robbing him of himself, and pain, pain everywhere, but that’s not the worst of it and he whimpers, defenses yielding all at once as the one he keeps trying to escape touches him again.
On the forehead. A cold circle of metal spelling death. A gun poised here, on the side of his head… barely there, a touch so small and delicate yet about to take it all away, and he can see the man’s smile now. He can hear Yoochun scream, he can feel a gun marking his skin with icy fire - what if it shot already? What if the dream right now is not a dream but the very last moment of his life stretching… stretching hopelessly as his mind fails him and feeds him lies while in truth Changmin is already gone, and that’s why he looks so thin, so fake to his own eyes.
His hand slips on the sink, slick with sweat, and he barely keeps upright. He looks up again. Sees the silent tears on his face, carving burning trails where cold water flowed before. He tightens his fists. Clenches his jaw. It didn’t happen. None of it happened, he thinks desperately, nothing, not the gun, not the pain, the fear surrounding him and Yoochun’s torn cries, and the way they looked at him as they talked in the crowded audience room.
They weren’t there, they said to the judges. It wasn’t them.
Look, it’s all burnt. It’s gone. No proof.
It’s burnt.
No proof.
All burnt.
Can’t you see Changmin burned too? Saying nonsense. Speaking of things that didn’t happen. They didn’t do it. The fever got his brain and his memories are as fickle as ashes, half mad, half dead.
He bites down hard on his lower lip and tastes blood in his mouth. That didn’t happen either. He doesn’t want it to have happened. He wants it gone, he just… just wants it gone, all of it, and the heat and memories, and how it hurt, how everything felt like it was ending, cold metal on his forehead and the smile on the man’s face as he held up the gun. I have your life, the smile said, right here. Look, I’m going to take it… I’m going to end it and you cannot stop me.
It didn’t happen and he abruptly moves away from the sink, staggering on his feet. He blinks tears away from his eyes. His heart is pounding so hard he hears it inside, outside, a torrent of blood and panic flooding the last coherent thoughts as he tugs on his pajama pants harshly, pulling one of the legs up. It’s not here, it’s not, it’s not, he’s thinking, praying, it didn’t happen, please it didn’t, it didn’t, it didn’t. Please.
He freezes when he sees the scar on his knee.
The pounding of blood in his ears fades, dulled, distant. It’s not here, part of him is still chanting like an empty echo, but it is here. The scar, like a star… red and white, broken skin, still smooth to the touch and still looking so raw.
All of a sudden Changmin is Changmin again and reality crashes back down. His legs give in under him.
Blinding bathroom lights are pouring down on him. His head throbs and he can’t keep the memories away, elusive images swirling around him, now like a broken dam. It happened, all of it, it happened - the gun, the blows, their words, and tears, cruel darkness, fever and blood, failed, fell, too late, tried but not enough, and dying now was all that was left.
A gun against his forehead. Just a small touch, unbearable, haunting.
It refuses to fade. It’s here, still here, no matter how much time passes and even when Changmin rubs at it, pressing hard, willing it gone… gone, more than anything else. He’d rip that patch of skin away if he could. He’d dig a hole in its place just as he’d carve out of his memories the broken remnants of what happened in KangBuk.
He breathes in sharply, struggling for air. He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t remember what happened exactly, except that it did happen. There was Death and him and nothing in between… Death with a cold, thin smile, and a few days ago it stared straight into his eyes again. It stared and smiled and just like that the gun was back, and Changmin realized it would never quite leave.
Just as the wave of memories swells with renewed strength, just as he buckles under their ghostly weight, suddenly Jaejoong is here.
Changmin knows it’s him the moment arms wrap around his shoulders.
He reaches for him at once, instinctively diverting the destructive force of the onslaught of memories aside and into those arms instead - forcibly pushing sensations and thoughts toward the salvation that is Jaejoong, focusing on him with all his might.
He tries to say his name but there is too little air; it’s like Jaejoong heard anyway and the embrace tightens. Changmin clings onto him, pulling him as close as possible, needing the strength of the one who has dried all his tears - he’s half gone already, half burned maybe, but Jaejoong will bring him back. Jaejoong will catch him, as he always does.
He happened too, a small voice whispers fiercely inside his head, Jaejoong happened.
So Changmin stops struggling. Changmin lets it all go, and waits for the moment when it will be safe to open his eyes again.
Part B.