Imagination
For the SuJu 100 FanFic Challenge!
Title: Imagination
Theme: #20 Glow
Pairing: DongHae/KiBum
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5,172
Archive: Here
A/N: There won't be an update for The World Ends With You this week, unfortunately. School's got me up to my eyeballs in work. So in the meantime, here's something I finished a while ago but didn't post >.<;
It had been ten years since KiBum had visited his old home out in the country. Everything was just as he remembered it; the house was still the same, the village was still the same, the fields surrounding him still the same. It was a small village, out of the way and forgotten. But from what he had seen of the other villages on the drive here, it wouldn’t remain this way for long. The whole area was undergoing a massive renovation. Villages would become towns; the fields would disappear, and cities would spring up from where there used to be nothing but farms.
He’d lived here for the first ten years of his life, in the old house at the end of the dirt road, surrounded by fields and pastures for farm animals. Back then, life had been simple. He hadn’t been friends with anyone else in the village, they’d all considered him an odd, quiet kid and generally avoided him. It hadn’t bothered him too much though; he had his own friend after all. But not the kind of person you’d expect. His best friend hadn’t really existed, except in KiBum’s head.
He had been a boy his age, a tad taller than him and skinny as a twig. KiBum didn’t remember much of the other, except that they used to have fun chasing the small birds and foxes in the fields, and catching insects. And at night, they’d lie down in the empty spot in the center of the field and watch the stars. It had been so peaceful, so simple. KiBum had loved his best friend dearly, and his bright, optimistic attitude made it hard not to. And in his memory, hazed over from time, he could still remember that cheerful laughter, and the pair of mismatched eyes looking back at him. One green, one brown, with a glow as bright as the stars in the sky.
His parents hadn’t approved of his best friend though. On the contrary, when he explained to them that his friend was just there, standing right beside him, they feared for his sanity. Imaginary friends weren’t so uncommon in children… But who held onto their imaginary friend right up until the age of ten? When he showed no signs of leaving his childish imagination behind, they decided to take matters into their own hands.
They left the village, the large field that held so many memories, and moved to America. KiBum’s friend followed him there, holding onto him tightly all throughout the plane ride. KiBum could tell his friend was worried. He didn’t like being so far away from the field, and the village. KiBum assured him it would be alright. His friend didn’t look too convinced, but he smiled that bright smile anyways.
Once in America, they moved into a large city. KiBum was enrolled in a public school with 1000 other children, and they took him to see a psychiatrist. It was there where he was told over and over again, his friend wasn’t real, he didn’t exist. KiBum ignored them the best he could, and his friend followed him to each meeting, to sit beside him and hold his hand and whisper mean things about the woman who was trying to break them apart.
But time slowly wore on. KiBum made friends in the large school, and it didn’t escape his notice how none of them ever acknowledged his best friend. He talked to his best friend less and less, leaving the other to watch like a lost puppy most of the time. A big turning point came a year later, during a meeting with the psychiatrist. She asked him to try holding his friends hand in front of her. KiBum reached out to the other boy… But he couldn’t touch him. Their hands went right through each other.
The next day, his best friend disappeared. KiBum was cured.
In the following years, KiBum spent most of his time studying. When it came to picking a career, he chose to be a child psychiatrist, and was currently in training. The memory of his old friend had all but left his mind. He was older now; he knew better than to hold onto such a useless imagination. One day, there came a call from Korea; they needed a psychiatrist there. So KiBum volunteered, and took a plane back to Korea. It was only for two weeks, then he’d return to America.
On one of his days off, he decided to visit his old home again. So here he was, walking through the field he used to spend so much time in, playing with a boy with a bright smile and glowing eyes who didn’t exist.
Soon, he neared the spot in the middle of the field where they used to watch the stars. No grass grew there, forming a wide, empty circle with a large rock in the middle. To his surprise, someone was sitting there. Perhaps one of the children from the village. Though from what he could see, the majority of them moved out into the city when they reached a certain age.
The other male was his age, swinging his legs back and forth. He hummed softly to himself, chestnut brown hair falling down nearly to his shoulders and covering his eyes. Face tilted up towards the sky, he smiled absently to himself. KiBum watched, amused, as the other male stretched his arms up above his head and behind him, like a cat… Then promptly fell right off the rock he had been sitting on.
A startled chuckle escaped KiBum, as he finally approached the fallen male. “Are you alright?” He asked, looking down at him. The other rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly, then bounced back up to his feet before KiBum could offer to help. “Yeah, I’m fine. Do it all the time.” A bright grin appeared on the others face. “I was wondering when you’d come back.”
KiBum frowned slightly at that. “Do I know you?” He hadn’t been in contact often with the other children in the village, and he didn’t really remember this particular person.
The boy pouted cutely. “Oh, come on!” He whined. “Don’t tell me you forgot your best friend so quickly!”
Best friend… “I didn’t have a best friend,” He said frowning deeper. “Didn’t really talk to anyone while I was here.” The other did seem a little familiar… But it must just be his imagination, because he’s never seen someone like him before. He’s sure of it. And why won’t the others hair stay out of his eyes?
“I’m hurt,” sighed the other male, clutching his heart dramatically. “You really have forgotten me? Then, I’ll just have to introduce myself again, right KiBummie?” He bowed deeply, and when he stood back up, his hair flopped out of his face, mismatched eyes meeting KiBum’s as he grinned. “Annyeonghaseyo~, my name is Lee DongHae!”
KiBum stared. This couldn’t be real. He must have fallen asleep on the plane ride to Korea, and all this was some weird dream. Memories coming back to haunt him. Because there was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. There was no way he was face to face with his old, imaginary friend, grown up like he himself had, with that same bright smile and mismatched eyes. Lee DongHae didn’t exist; couldn’t exist.
DongHae frowned when the other didn’t reply. “KiBummie?” He asked curiously, waving his hand in front of the others face. “Did you fall asleep standing?” Snapped out of his trance, KiBum took a step back. “This is a massive setback,” He murmured to himself, shaking his head hard. So many years of therapy undone. This would put him back in his studies too; how was he supposed to be a child therapist if he was still seeing things himself?
“Setback?” Echoed DongHae, eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as he tried to figure out what KiBum was talking about. The other ignored him, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Must be memories coming back. I shouldn’t have come here. Once I get back to the city, everything will be fine.” He took a few more steps back, turning around to leave.
“W-Wait!” Warm fingers closed around his wrist. KiBum froze in his tracks, looking down at the hands gripping his arm tightly, then back behind him at DongHae’s panicked eyes. “Where are you going? You just got here! We just started talking!”
This wasn’t happening. But somehow, the boy that was nothing more than a figment of his imagination was holding his arm. KiBum could feel the warmth radiating from the others hands, and when he tried to move forward, he felt himself being held back. How was this possible? Seeing and hearing your hallucination was one thing, and though KiBum hadn’t liked being put on the pills, he’d take them again if he had to. But being able to touch his imagination, and feel warm flesh where there should be thin air, that wasn’t in any textbook he’d read.
“You’re not real,” KiBum whispered, feeling lost and confused. He’d studied all about the subject of imaginary friends, hallucinations, schizophrenia… He knew the textbooks inside out, and yet he felt like a kid fresh out of high school. “This is all in my imagination.”
DongHae frowned. “How am I not real?” He asked, and KiBum could detect a faint trace of hurt in the others voice. “I’m right here. KiBummie, look at me, I’m right here!” But KiBum couldn’t turn to look fully at the other. He had to leave, while his resolve still held. But when he took another step forward, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, and suddenly he was pulled back and up against someone else’s body.
“See? I’m right here,” DongHae said, holding KiBum in a tight hug. “Please don’t leave. I missed you so much.” His voice was becoming choked up. Slowly turning around, KiBum looked at the other and noticed his eyes, one green and one brown, shimmering with tears. And just like that, his resolve to leave cracked, and KiBum hugged the other back, letting DongHae sob quietly into his shirt. “I missed you, KiBummie…” Hae whispered, voice muffled by the others shirt, and KiBum only held him tighter, not sure what to do.
He didn’t know how this had happened, but somehow, he’d met DongHae again. And the warm body in his arms screamed ‘real’, but his memories of their hands passing right through each other, the look his parents exchanged when he talked about Hae, and how the other suddenly disappeared one day… It hurt to think about.
Slowly, he guided DongHae back towards the rock he’d been sitting on, and they both sat on the ground with their backs up against it. “How is this possible,” KiBum murmured, as DongHae wound his arms firmly around his waist, not wanting to let go. “They told me you aren’t real. That I was just imagining things.”
“I’m not imaginary,” DongHae replied, wiping away the tears staining his cheeks. “Grown-ups can’t see me, cause they don’t believe in things they can’t see. It’s all logic to them.”
“Hae, I’m a grown-up too now,” KiBum pointed out quietly. “And this isn’t logical. All the rules of physics and science say-“
“-Rules are meant to be broken,” DongHae interrupted. The two of them looked at each other, not speaking. KiBum felt a smile creep up on his face. Hae was right. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” He asked. DongHae grinned and snuggled up against his body. “Nope.”
He didn’t know how it happened, but it had. One arm around DongHae as the other leaned against him for support, they talked, about what KiBum had been doing with his life, about what things were like in America, about the recent construction in the other villages. The last topic caused DongHae to become quiet, getting KiBum’s attention. “What’s wrong?”
“When the construction gets to here, this field will be gone,” DongHae whispered. “The city will be everywhere.” DongHae didn’t like city life, the life that KiBum had grown accustomed to. “So you’ll go to a different field?” KiBum asked, frowning.
“No. This place is who I am. When nature leaves, I’ll leave with it. I’ll disappear for good.”
“I don’t get it,” KiBum said, frowning. “Why would you disappear?”
“Because all the memories will be gone. The only reason I’m still here is because this was where we used to play, and have fun.” He looked up at the sky, which was gradually darkening. KiBum watched him. “DongHae… Why did you disappear, all those years ago?” He asked, the question gnawing at him until he had to know.
“Because you stopped believing in me, KiBummie.” DongHae turned his gaze to KiBum instead. In the growing darkness, his eyes seemed to glow. “I survive on two things. Your belief and your memories. And your memories are all in this field, so once it’s cut down… I won’t exist anymore.” His voice choked up again. KiBum realized that DongHae was shaking. “Hae?”
“I’m scared,” The other whispered. “I don’t want to disappear.” And he had to hide his face against KiBums shirt again. It physically hurt, to see his best friend so upset. But KiBum didn’t know what to say. Trying to find a way to cheer DongHae up, he took a shaky breath. “What if you come back to America with me?” He asked. DongHae looked up at him. “You can live with me, and that way you won’t disappear.”
The imaginary boy’s grip on KiBum’s shirt tightened. “I want to be with you,” He confirmed. “But… What if you stop believing in me again?” Large eyes looked up at KiBum, and he felt pain again, hating that the other was so upset. “I won’t,” He told him firmly.
He’d found his best friend again. KiBum went in to work at the Korean hospital every day, but at night he always returned to visit DongHae in his field. Understandably, DongHae was nervous about leaving the field again after so long, but at the start of the second week, KiBum managed to coax DongHae into his car, and drove into work with him. The other boy held on to his sleeve the entire time, nearly freaking out several times, but when they entered the city and he’d yet to disappear, he seemed to relax a little. He followed KiBum around quietly as he worked, not talking, but every now and then KiBum looked up at him and smiled, a smile just for him, and DongHae’s fears were stilled once more.
Before long, it was his last night in Korea. The next morning he was supposed to take the plane back to America, this time with something other than luggage with him. DongHae managed to convince him to sleep under the stars that night, something they hadn’t done since they were little. Finally agreeing, KiBum rented a sleeping bag, and drove out to meet DongHae in the same spot they’d met for the past two weeks.
He found the other sitting on the rock again, watching the sunset. “It’s it pretty?” DongHae asked, mismatched eyes glowing in the darkness. KiBum had to agree, dropping his bag at the base of the rock and climbing up to be with DongHae. “It doesn’t show this brightly in the city,” He remarked.
DongHae grinned, resting his head on KiBum’s shoulder. The other had become accustomed to DongHae’s random hugs and touches, remembering the boy used to like cuddling when they were little also. He didn’t think it used to have quite this effect on him, making it hard to breathe, but he pushed that thought aside.
At some point, they moved from the rock to the ground, KiBum getting inside the sleeping bag as the air turned cold. DongHae had insisted he would be fine without a sleeping bag, and looking back, he’d never used one as a kid either. They lay on the ground, talking, and making shapes with the stars overhead.
“The stars never used to be so bright either,” KiBum remarked.
“It’s because they’re happy to see you,” DongHae replied cheerfully, arms behind his head as he looked upwards. “They’re happy, so they glow just for you.”
KiBum smiled at DongHae’s habit of referring to stars like real people. “Really?” He asked sleepily. He was getting tired, the fresh air making him drowsy.
“Really,” was DongHae’s reply, as he curled up beside KiBum, smiling as he closed his eyes. “Good night, KiBummie.”
KiBum looked from the stars up in the sky, to his own personal star lying beside him. “Good night, Hae,” He said softly, eyes following the path of the moonlight on DongHae’s perfect face. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes, and drifted off into sleep.
*****
The plane ride was hard for DongHae. He could barely sit still, and didn’t like being so high off the ground. It didn’t help that KiBum couldn’t talk to him; there were others around, and though KiBum accepted that DongHae was real, no one else could see him. So all he could do was subtly hold DongHae’s hand when the other settled down on his lap, murmuring comforting words under the guise of singing along to the music playing on his MP3.
When they finally reached KiBum’s apartment in America, he was exhausted. He never slept on plane rides, no matter how long. That night, he fell asleep on his own bed, with DongHae curled up beside him, long hair falling into his eyes as he dozed.
KiBum slipped into his usual routine; work at the hospital during the day, and classes at night. He was careful to always make time for DongHae though, and insisted that the other accompany him wherever he went. He didn’t want DongHae to think he was ignoring him. It was hard, pretending not to see his friend, but he managed to do it, and make sure he found a solitary corner during his breaks where he could talk to the other without anyone overhearing.
He got back together with the rest of his friends. Most were still the same group from high school; the local ‘princess’ HeeChul, Canadian violin prodigy Henry, English teacher Tablo, Chinese transfer student Han Geng, and two others who came from Korea, choir boys YeSung and RyeoWook. DongHae approved of most of them, but it didn’t escape KiBum’s attention how insecure he seemed to be when KiBum was talking to them. He was afraid of being forgotten again.
A month passed. KiBum didn’t know when his ‘best friend’ became ‘best-friend-who-I-totally-have-a-crush-on’, but somewhere along the way, he started paying more attention to DongHae’s habits, the way he would rest his chin on one hand while thinking, how long his hair was, how entrancing his mismatched eyes were, especially when they glowed with happiness. DongHae’s hugs and cuddling became harder to bear, not because he disliked them, but the opposite. Because he wanted to do more than hug him, but dared not to.
His secret ended up coming out anyways. One particularly tiring day of work and school caused him to fall asleep the second he sat down, and DongHae, being the good friend he was, decided KiBum would be more comfortable sleeping in his bed rather than the chair in his living room. But when he went to wake him up, KiBum opened his eyes and thought he was still dreaming, and so did the first thing that came to mind when he saw DongHae’s face so close to his own. He reached up and placed one hand at the back of the boys neck, and pulled him down for a kiss.
When he finally figured out what he was doing, he moved to pull away, but to his surprise DongHae held onto him tightly, kissing him back desperately. All thoughts slipped away as the kiss deepened, and he pulled DongHae onto his lap. So best friends became lovers.
Life became harder for the both of them. KiBum wanted to tell his friends about his new boyfriend, but obviously couldn’t. DongHae talked less, but assured KiBum with hugs and kisses that he was coping fine. He was obviously insecure about the whole thing, and seemed to think KiBum would be better off with a boyfriend others could actually see. KiBum told him, time and time again, that he wanted no one else.
*****
As time went on, things slowly changed, as they were bound to. KiBum didn’t go on his breaks to talk with DongHae anymore, spending them with his friends. They went from spending a good deal of KiBum’s weekends alternating between talking, playing games together, and making out, to barely talking beyond a hello and a few words. The strain of being in a relationship with someone everyone else didn’t believe was real started to show, and KiBum disappeared for long hours at a time, going out with his friends and leaving DongHae behind. DongHae didn’t insist on coming anymore, saying that KiBum deserved to have a life away from his boyfriend, and that he could handle it.
One day, KiBum came home for the night exhausted, locking the door behind him. “Hello,” DongHae called, walking out from the bedroom. KiBum didn’t seem to hear him. DongHae frowned and tried again. “Hello,” He called, louder. Finally KiBum looked at him, and gave a tired smile. “Hi.” He kicked off his shoes and went into the bedroom, Hae following behind him. “Want to talk?” DongHae asked, smiling. “We haven’t spent time together in forever.”
“Tomorrow?” KiBum asked, rubbing his eyes. “I’m exhausted. They had us running from ward to ward all day.” DongHae’s smile faded, and he nodded. “Okay,” He said softly, but once again KiBum didn’t seem to hear him.
Watching his boyfriend fall asleep, DongHae sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching over with a trembling hand once KiBum had drifted off, he placed his hand on the others shoulder. But he simply went through him, like a ghost.
A choked sob left the boys lips. “I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I’m sorry I can’t be real for you.” And he sat there, tears slipping quietly down his cheeks, as the love of his life slept.
*****
KiBum sat up, stretching slightly before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Not for the first time, he was glad it was the weekend now. That meant no work, and no classes. And of course that he’d be able to sleep in.
The apartment was quiet, the only sounds the ticking of a clock and his own feet padding across the room towards the bathroom. Washing his face to help clear his head, KiBum looked around and noticed for the first time since he’d woken up just how quiet it was. The apartment hadn’t been this quiet in months.
“DongHae?” He called, walking back into the bedroom. The spot where his lover usually slept was empty, the sheets still neat and undisturbed. KiBum frowned lightly, turning to go into the living room, then the kitchen, expecting to find DongHae there. But he was.
“Hae?” He tried again, looking around. There was no response. Something caught in his chest, clenching his heart tighter and tighter until he could barely breath. “Hae?!?” Nothing.
*****
He didn’t see DongHae all day. When on Sunday his friends called to ask if he wanted to see a movie with them, he declined, but when HeeChul showed up on his doorstep and literally dragged him with them, he had no choice in the matter.
But something was missing. That comforting presence beside him was gone. He’d never realized just how heavily he’d depended on DongHae to be there, first as the friend who never thought bad of him, then as the lover who was always there no matter what. It was hard to breath, to think, like he’d been left completely hollow. Watching a horror movie with the others, and seeing the main hero promise to never leave the heroine, KiBum clenched his hands in his lap. He’d broken his promise to DongHae.
And for the first time in many years, that night KiBum cried himself to sleep.
A week passed. His performance in both school and work went down. His boss called him in one day, and told him to take a well-deserved break, and to come back once he’d cleared his head. KiBum bowed and left, watching the stars in the night sky as he walked home. They weren’t glowing, dulled out until they were barely visible. He missed DongHae, so much.
The next day he was on a plane back to South Korea, travel bag in one hand as he watched the ground fall away from beneath him. He had to go back and get DongHae. The other would probably be angry at him, not want to talk to him anymore. But he just had to see DongHae again, because if he didn’t, he was going to tear himself into pieces.
The plane ride was long and hard for him. When it finally touched down on Korean soil, he rented a car and went straight out towards his old home, ignoring how tired he was. This was his chance to make things right again.
KiBum finally reached his old village… And what he saw made him hit the brakes. Construction was everywhere, signs being put up for new model houses that would be available to the public by the end of the year. All the little houses already there were being renovated, dirt roads being covered with concrete. But what made him stop was the fact that the field was gone, all mowed down and dug up to lay foundations for the new houses come in. All that remained was the large rock that had been in the middle, sticking out like a sore thumb against the flat terrain.
I survive on two things. Your belief and your memories. And your memories are all in this field, so once it’s cut down… I won’t exist anymore.
KiBum pulled over so that he would stop traffic, staring at what had become of the place he’d spend his childhood. His eyes searched frantically for that familiar figure, the one that he missed so dearly. But DongHae was nowhere to be found.
I’m scared…
Resting his forehead against the steering wheel, shaky breathing gradually became heart wrenching sobs, as KiBum cried.
I don’t want to disappear.
*****
“KiBum, your patients here.”
Looking up from his papers on the boy he was supposed to be seeing, he smiled at his secretary, then at the boy standing shyly behind her. “Come in,” He said pleasantly, watching the boy with messy hair walk in and stand in front of him awkwardly.
Five years later, KiBum was working as the child psychiatrist he’d always wanted to be. He’d gone into depression upon returning to America, and it had taken his friends months to pull him out of it. Now, he was on the mend, leaning on his friends as well as his new boyfriend YeSung to help him move on. No one could ever truly replace DongHae in his heart, but he knew YeSung was probably as close as he was ever going to get, and he did care for his hyung deeply. And the older male was more than patient with him, something which KiBum appreciated.
“Don’t look so shy,” KiBum said, smiling brightly at his newest patient, who slowly smiled back. Looking down at his notes, he continued. “Your name is Lee HyukJae, right?” At the boys nod, KiBum motioned for him to sit, and the child obeyed. He looked barely over ten.
“Do you know why you’re here, HyukJae-sshi?” He asked, leaning forward slightly. The boy shrugged. KiBum looked at his notes again. “Your mom and dad say you have an imaginary friend,” He said gently.
“He’s not imaginary!” HyukJae countered, folding his arms across his chest. “He said you’d say that, and he says you’re a big mean toad too.”
“Really?” KiBum chuckled, but something inside him reacted to those words. He was sure he’d heard something similar once. “Is he here now?”
“Yup,” HyukJae replied, obviously not liking KiBum right off the bat from his angry, pouting face.
“Why don’t you tell me a bit about him?” KiBum asked, genuinely curious now.
“…” HyukJae looked off to one side uncertainly. KiBum noted how the others eyes lingered on one spot in particular, and the slight nod he gave before looking at KiBum again. “He’s the bestest friend ever. He never tries to make me cry, and he always knows exactly what to say. He says we’ll always be best friends, and that you want to take him away from me.”
“I see…” KiBum mused, no longer looking at his notes, but looking at HyukJae with keen eyes. “Does he have a name?”
“Of course!” HyukJae replied, like that was the silliest question he’d ever heard. “He’s DongHae, Lee DongHae!”
The pencil KiBum had been tapping against his desk stopped. The male blinked several times, looking at the child who stared at him so defiantly. Gradually, so slowly it seemed to take years, a smile appeared on the doctors face.
“Really? Well, in that case, I really can’t help you.” HyukJae looked confused. KiBum chuckled. “Obviously, you’ve got a very good friend with you, and I’d have to be that big mean toad like he said to split up such good friends, right?”
“You mean you’re not going to say bad things about him?” HyukJae asked, eyes wide. “Everyone else does.”
KiBum shook his head, standing and going over to where the boy sat. Kneeling down in front of HyukJae, he placed his hands on the others shoulders. “I’m not going to tell you what to believe. But don’t let go of him HyukJae. Everyone deserves a friend, and you’ve got the best of the best. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, alright?” He winked. “Our little secret, okay?”
HyukJae nodded. “Okay.” Then he looked somewhere over KiBum’s shoulder and smiled. “DongHae’s happy. He says you’re not such an evil toad after all.” KiBum chuckled, feeling a longing in his heart when he saw the adoration in HyukJae’s eyes as he talked about his friend no one else could see.
KiBum escorted HyukJae out of his office. As the boy left, YeSung appeared. “You’re just about done for the day, right?” The older asked, kissing KiBum lightly on the lips. Then he noticed the smile on KiBum’s face. “What’s up?”
KiBum looked at the other for a moment, before returning his gaze to HyukJae. “He didn’t disappear,” He replied, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as YeSung looked at him confused.
The pair watched as HyukJae walked out, one arm raised as he walked hand in hand with someone who couldn’t be seen, but was real nonetheless.
Title: Imagination
Theme: #20 Glow
Pairing: DongHae/KiBum
Rating: PG
Word Count: 5,172
Archive: Here
A/N: There won't be an update for The World Ends With You this week, unfortunately. School's got me up to my eyeballs in work. So in the meantime, here's something I finished a while ago but didn't post >.<;
It had been ten years since KiBum had visited his old home out in the country. Everything was just as he remembered it; the house was still the same, the village was still the same, the fields surrounding him still the same. It was a small village, out of the way and forgotten. But from what he had seen of the other villages on the drive here, it wouldn’t remain this way for long. The whole area was undergoing a massive renovation. Villages would become towns; the fields would disappear, and cities would spring up from where there used to be nothing but farms.
He’d lived here for the first ten years of his life, in the old house at the end of the dirt road, surrounded by fields and pastures for farm animals. Back then, life had been simple. He hadn’t been friends with anyone else in the village, they’d all considered him an odd, quiet kid and generally avoided him. It hadn’t bothered him too much though; he had his own friend after all. But not the kind of person you’d expect. His best friend hadn’t really existed, except in KiBum’s head.
He had been a boy his age, a tad taller than him and skinny as a twig. KiBum didn’t remember much of the other, except that they used to have fun chasing the small birds and foxes in the fields, and catching insects. And at night, they’d lie down in the empty spot in the center of the field and watch the stars. It had been so peaceful, so simple. KiBum had loved his best friend dearly, and his bright, optimistic attitude made it hard not to. And in his memory, hazed over from time, he could still remember that cheerful laughter, and the pair of mismatched eyes looking back at him. One green, one brown, with a glow as bright as the stars in the sky.
His parents hadn’t approved of his best friend though. On the contrary, when he explained to them that his friend was just there, standing right beside him, they feared for his sanity. Imaginary friends weren’t so uncommon in children… But who held onto their imaginary friend right up until the age of ten? When he showed no signs of leaving his childish imagination behind, they decided to take matters into their own hands.
They left the village, the large field that held so many memories, and moved to America. KiBum’s friend followed him there, holding onto him tightly all throughout the plane ride. KiBum could tell his friend was worried. He didn’t like being so far away from the field, and the village. KiBum assured him it would be alright. His friend didn’t look too convinced, but he smiled that bright smile anyways.
Once in America, they moved into a large city. KiBum was enrolled in a public school with 1000 other children, and they took him to see a psychiatrist. It was there where he was told over and over again, his friend wasn’t real, he didn’t exist. KiBum ignored them the best he could, and his friend followed him to each meeting, to sit beside him and hold his hand and whisper mean things about the woman who was trying to break them apart.
But time slowly wore on. KiBum made friends in the large school, and it didn’t escape his notice how none of them ever acknowledged his best friend. He talked to his best friend less and less, leaving the other to watch like a lost puppy most of the time. A big turning point came a year later, during a meeting with the psychiatrist. She asked him to try holding his friends hand in front of her. KiBum reached out to the other boy… But he couldn’t touch him. Their hands went right through each other.
The next day, his best friend disappeared. KiBum was cured.
In the following years, KiBum spent most of his time studying. When it came to picking a career, he chose to be a child psychiatrist, and was currently in training. The memory of his old friend had all but left his mind. He was older now; he knew better than to hold onto such a useless imagination. One day, there came a call from Korea; they needed a psychiatrist there. So KiBum volunteered, and took a plane back to Korea. It was only for two weeks, then he’d return to America.
On one of his days off, he decided to visit his old home again. So here he was, walking through the field he used to spend so much time in, playing with a boy with a bright smile and glowing eyes who didn’t exist.
Soon, he neared the spot in the middle of the field where they used to watch the stars. No grass grew there, forming a wide, empty circle with a large rock in the middle. To his surprise, someone was sitting there. Perhaps one of the children from the village. Though from what he could see, the majority of them moved out into the city when they reached a certain age.
The other male was his age, swinging his legs back and forth. He hummed softly to himself, chestnut brown hair falling down nearly to his shoulders and covering his eyes. Face tilted up towards the sky, he smiled absently to himself. KiBum watched, amused, as the other male stretched his arms up above his head and behind him, like a cat… Then promptly fell right off the rock he had been sitting on.
A startled chuckle escaped KiBum, as he finally approached the fallen male. “Are you alright?” He asked, looking down at him. The other rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly, then bounced back up to his feet before KiBum could offer to help. “Yeah, I’m fine. Do it all the time.” A bright grin appeared on the others face. “I was wondering when you’d come back.”
KiBum frowned slightly at that. “Do I know you?” He hadn’t been in contact often with the other children in the village, and he didn’t really remember this particular person.
The boy pouted cutely. “Oh, come on!” He whined. “Don’t tell me you forgot your best friend so quickly!”
Best friend… “I didn’t have a best friend,” He said frowning deeper. “Didn’t really talk to anyone while I was here.” The other did seem a little familiar… But it must just be his imagination, because he’s never seen someone like him before. He’s sure of it. And why won’t the others hair stay out of his eyes?
“I’m hurt,” sighed the other male, clutching his heart dramatically. “You really have forgotten me? Then, I’ll just have to introduce myself again, right KiBummie?” He bowed deeply, and when he stood back up, his hair flopped out of his face, mismatched eyes meeting KiBum’s as he grinned. “Annyeonghaseyo~, my name is Lee DongHae!”
KiBum stared. This couldn’t be real. He must have fallen asleep on the plane ride to Korea, and all this was some weird dream. Memories coming back to haunt him. Because there was no way he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. There was no way he was face to face with his old, imaginary friend, grown up like he himself had, with that same bright smile and mismatched eyes. Lee DongHae didn’t exist; couldn’t exist.
DongHae frowned when the other didn’t reply. “KiBummie?” He asked curiously, waving his hand in front of the others face. “Did you fall asleep standing?” Snapped out of his trance, KiBum took a step back. “This is a massive setback,” He murmured to himself, shaking his head hard. So many years of therapy undone. This would put him back in his studies too; how was he supposed to be a child therapist if he was still seeing things himself?
“Setback?” Echoed DongHae, eyebrows scrunched up in concentration as he tried to figure out what KiBum was talking about. The other ignored him, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. “Must be memories coming back. I shouldn’t have come here. Once I get back to the city, everything will be fine.” He took a few more steps back, turning around to leave.
“W-Wait!” Warm fingers closed around his wrist. KiBum froze in his tracks, looking down at the hands gripping his arm tightly, then back behind him at DongHae’s panicked eyes. “Where are you going? You just got here! We just started talking!”
This wasn’t happening. But somehow, the boy that was nothing more than a figment of his imagination was holding his arm. KiBum could feel the warmth radiating from the others hands, and when he tried to move forward, he felt himself being held back. How was this possible? Seeing and hearing your hallucination was one thing, and though KiBum hadn’t liked being put on the pills, he’d take them again if he had to. But being able to touch his imagination, and feel warm flesh where there should be thin air, that wasn’t in any textbook he’d read.
“You’re not real,” KiBum whispered, feeling lost and confused. He’d studied all about the subject of imaginary friends, hallucinations, schizophrenia… He knew the textbooks inside out, and yet he felt like a kid fresh out of high school. “This is all in my imagination.”
DongHae frowned. “How am I not real?” He asked, and KiBum could detect a faint trace of hurt in the others voice. “I’m right here. KiBummie, look at me, I’m right here!” But KiBum couldn’t turn to look fully at the other. He had to leave, while his resolve still held. But when he took another step forward, he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, and suddenly he was pulled back and up against someone else’s body.
“See? I’m right here,” DongHae said, holding KiBum in a tight hug. “Please don’t leave. I missed you so much.” His voice was becoming choked up. Slowly turning around, KiBum looked at the other and noticed his eyes, one green and one brown, shimmering with tears. And just like that, his resolve to leave cracked, and KiBum hugged the other back, letting DongHae sob quietly into his shirt. “I missed you, KiBummie…” Hae whispered, voice muffled by the others shirt, and KiBum only held him tighter, not sure what to do.
He didn’t know how this had happened, but somehow, he’d met DongHae again. And the warm body in his arms screamed ‘real’, but his memories of their hands passing right through each other, the look his parents exchanged when he talked about Hae, and how the other suddenly disappeared one day… It hurt to think about.
Slowly, he guided DongHae back towards the rock he’d been sitting on, and they both sat on the ground with their backs up against it. “How is this possible,” KiBum murmured, as DongHae wound his arms firmly around his waist, not wanting to let go. “They told me you aren’t real. That I was just imagining things.”
“I’m not imaginary,” DongHae replied, wiping away the tears staining his cheeks. “Grown-ups can’t see me, cause they don’t believe in things they can’t see. It’s all logic to them.”
“Hae, I’m a grown-up too now,” KiBum pointed out quietly. “And this isn’t logical. All the rules of physics and science say-“
“-Rules are meant to be broken,” DongHae interrupted. The two of them looked at each other, not speaking. KiBum felt a smile creep up on his face. Hae was right. “You really haven’t changed, have you?” He asked. DongHae grinned and snuggled up against his body. “Nope.”
He didn’t know how it happened, but it had. One arm around DongHae as the other leaned against him for support, they talked, about what KiBum had been doing with his life, about what things were like in America, about the recent construction in the other villages. The last topic caused DongHae to become quiet, getting KiBum’s attention. “What’s wrong?”
“When the construction gets to here, this field will be gone,” DongHae whispered. “The city will be everywhere.” DongHae didn’t like city life, the life that KiBum had grown accustomed to. “So you’ll go to a different field?” KiBum asked, frowning.
“No. This place is who I am. When nature leaves, I’ll leave with it. I’ll disappear for good.”
“I don’t get it,” KiBum said, frowning. “Why would you disappear?”
“Because all the memories will be gone. The only reason I’m still here is because this was where we used to play, and have fun.” He looked up at the sky, which was gradually darkening. KiBum watched him. “DongHae… Why did you disappear, all those years ago?” He asked, the question gnawing at him until he had to know.
“Because you stopped believing in me, KiBummie.” DongHae turned his gaze to KiBum instead. In the growing darkness, his eyes seemed to glow. “I survive on two things. Your belief and your memories. And your memories are all in this field, so once it’s cut down… I won’t exist anymore.” His voice choked up again. KiBum realized that DongHae was shaking. “Hae?”
“I’m scared,” The other whispered. “I don’t want to disappear.” And he had to hide his face against KiBums shirt again. It physically hurt, to see his best friend so upset. But KiBum didn’t know what to say. Trying to find a way to cheer DongHae up, he took a shaky breath. “What if you come back to America with me?” He asked. DongHae looked up at him. “You can live with me, and that way you won’t disappear.”
The imaginary boy’s grip on KiBum’s shirt tightened. “I want to be with you,” He confirmed. “But… What if you stop believing in me again?” Large eyes looked up at KiBum, and he felt pain again, hating that the other was so upset. “I won’t,” He told him firmly.
He’d found his best friend again. KiBum went in to work at the Korean hospital every day, but at night he always returned to visit DongHae in his field. Understandably, DongHae was nervous about leaving the field again after so long, but at the start of the second week, KiBum managed to coax DongHae into his car, and drove into work with him. The other boy held on to his sleeve the entire time, nearly freaking out several times, but when they entered the city and he’d yet to disappear, he seemed to relax a little. He followed KiBum around quietly as he worked, not talking, but every now and then KiBum looked up at him and smiled, a smile just for him, and DongHae’s fears were stilled once more.
Before long, it was his last night in Korea. The next morning he was supposed to take the plane back to America, this time with something other than luggage with him. DongHae managed to convince him to sleep under the stars that night, something they hadn’t done since they were little. Finally agreeing, KiBum rented a sleeping bag, and drove out to meet DongHae in the same spot they’d met for the past two weeks.
He found the other sitting on the rock again, watching the sunset. “It’s it pretty?” DongHae asked, mismatched eyes glowing in the darkness. KiBum had to agree, dropping his bag at the base of the rock and climbing up to be with DongHae. “It doesn’t show this brightly in the city,” He remarked.
DongHae grinned, resting his head on KiBum’s shoulder. The other had become accustomed to DongHae’s random hugs and touches, remembering the boy used to like cuddling when they were little also. He didn’t think it used to have quite this effect on him, making it hard to breathe, but he pushed that thought aside.
At some point, they moved from the rock to the ground, KiBum getting inside the sleeping bag as the air turned cold. DongHae had insisted he would be fine without a sleeping bag, and looking back, he’d never used one as a kid either. They lay on the ground, talking, and making shapes with the stars overhead.
“The stars never used to be so bright either,” KiBum remarked.
“It’s because they’re happy to see you,” DongHae replied cheerfully, arms behind his head as he looked upwards. “They’re happy, so they glow just for you.”
KiBum smiled at DongHae’s habit of referring to stars like real people. “Really?” He asked sleepily. He was getting tired, the fresh air making him drowsy.
“Really,” was DongHae’s reply, as he curled up beside KiBum, smiling as he closed his eyes. “Good night, KiBummie.”
KiBum looked from the stars up in the sky, to his own personal star lying beside him. “Good night, Hae,” He said softly, eyes following the path of the moonlight on DongHae’s perfect face. Smiling to himself, he closed his eyes, and drifted off into sleep.
*****
The plane ride was hard for DongHae. He could barely sit still, and didn’t like being so high off the ground. It didn’t help that KiBum couldn’t talk to him; there were others around, and though KiBum accepted that DongHae was real, no one else could see him. So all he could do was subtly hold DongHae’s hand when the other settled down on his lap, murmuring comforting words under the guise of singing along to the music playing on his MP3.
When they finally reached KiBum’s apartment in America, he was exhausted. He never slept on plane rides, no matter how long. That night, he fell asleep on his own bed, with DongHae curled up beside him, long hair falling into his eyes as he dozed.
KiBum slipped into his usual routine; work at the hospital during the day, and classes at night. He was careful to always make time for DongHae though, and insisted that the other accompany him wherever he went. He didn’t want DongHae to think he was ignoring him. It was hard, pretending not to see his friend, but he managed to do it, and make sure he found a solitary corner during his breaks where he could talk to the other without anyone overhearing.
He got back together with the rest of his friends. Most were still the same group from high school; the local ‘princess’ HeeChul, Canadian violin prodigy Henry, English teacher Tablo, Chinese transfer student Han Geng, and two others who came from Korea, choir boys YeSung and RyeoWook. DongHae approved of most of them, but it didn’t escape KiBum’s attention how insecure he seemed to be when KiBum was talking to them. He was afraid of being forgotten again.
A month passed. KiBum didn’t know when his ‘best friend’ became ‘best-friend-who-I-totally-have-a-crush-on’, but somewhere along the way, he started paying more attention to DongHae’s habits, the way he would rest his chin on one hand while thinking, how long his hair was, how entrancing his mismatched eyes were, especially when they glowed with happiness. DongHae’s hugs and cuddling became harder to bear, not because he disliked them, but the opposite. Because he wanted to do more than hug him, but dared not to.
His secret ended up coming out anyways. One particularly tiring day of work and school caused him to fall asleep the second he sat down, and DongHae, being the good friend he was, decided KiBum would be more comfortable sleeping in his bed rather than the chair in his living room. But when he went to wake him up, KiBum opened his eyes and thought he was still dreaming, and so did the first thing that came to mind when he saw DongHae’s face so close to his own. He reached up and placed one hand at the back of the boys neck, and pulled him down for a kiss.
When he finally figured out what he was doing, he moved to pull away, but to his surprise DongHae held onto him tightly, kissing him back desperately. All thoughts slipped away as the kiss deepened, and he pulled DongHae onto his lap. So best friends became lovers.
Life became harder for the both of them. KiBum wanted to tell his friends about his new boyfriend, but obviously couldn’t. DongHae talked less, but assured KiBum with hugs and kisses that he was coping fine. He was obviously insecure about the whole thing, and seemed to think KiBum would be better off with a boyfriend others could actually see. KiBum told him, time and time again, that he wanted no one else.
*****
As time went on, things slowly changed, as they were bound to. KiBum didn’t go on his breaks to talk with DongHae anymore, spending them with his friends. They went from spending a good deal of KiBum’s weekends alternating between talking, playing games together, and making out, to barely talking beyond a hello and a few words. The strain of being in a relationship with someone everyone else didn’t believe was real started to show, and KiBum disappeared for long hours at a time, going out with his friends and leaving DongHae behind. DongHae didn’t insist on coming anymore, saying that KiBum deserved to have a life away from his boyfriend, and that he could handle it.
One day, KiBum came home for the night exhausted, locking the door behind him. “Hello,” DongHae called, walking out from the bedroom. KiBum didn’t seem to hear him. DongHae frowned and tried again. “Hello,” He called, louder. Finally KiBum looked at him, and gave a tired smile. “Hi.” He kicked off his shoes and went into the bedroom, Hae following behind him. “Want to talk?” DongHae asked, smiling. “We haven’t spent time together in forever.”
“Tomorrow?” KiBum asked, rubbing his eyes. “I’m exhausted. They had us running from ward to ward all day.” DongHae’s smile faded, and he nodded. “Okay,” He said softly, but once again KiBum didn’t seem to hear him.
Watching his boyfriend fall asleep, DongHae sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching over with a trembling hand once KiBum had drifted off, he placed his hand on the others shoulder. But he simply went through him, like a ghost.
A choked sob left the boys lips. “I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I’m sorry I can’t be real for you.” And he sat there, tears slipping quietly down his cheeks, as the love of his life slept.
*****
KiBum sat up, stretching slightly before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Not for the first time, he was glad it was the weekend now. That meant no work, and no classes. And of course that he’d be able to sleep in.
The apartment was quiet, the only sounds the ticking of a clock and his own feet padding across the room towards the bathroom. Washing his face to help clear his head, KiBum looked around and noticed for the first time since he’d woken up just how quiet it was. The apartment hadn’t been this quiet in months.
“DongHae?” He called, walking back into the bedroom. The spot where his lover usually slept was empty, the sheets still neat and undisturbed. KiBum frowned lightly, turning to go into the living room, then the kitchen, expecting to find DongHae there. But he was.
“Hae?” He tried again, looking around. There was no response. Something caught in his chest, clenching his heart tighter and tighter until he could barely breath. “Hae?!?” Nothing.
*****
He didn’t see DongHae all day. When on Sunday his friends called to ask if he wanted to see a movie with them, he declined, but when HeeChul showed up on his doorstep and literally dragged him with them, he had no choice in the matter.
But something was missing. That comforting presence beside him was gone. He’d never realized just how heavily he’d depended on DongHae to be there, first as the friend who never thought bad of him, then as the lover who was always there no matter what. It was hard to breath, to think, like he’d been left completely hollow. Watching a horror movie with the others, and seeing the main hero promise to never leave the heroine, KiBum clenched his hands in his lap. He’d broken his promise to DongHae.
And for the first time in many years, that night KiBum cried himself to sleep.
A week passed. His performance in both school and work went down. His boss called him in one day, and told him to take a well-deserved break, and to come back once he’d cleared his head. KiBum bowed and left, watching the stars in the night sky as he walked home. They weren’t glowing, dulled out until they were barely visible. He missed DongHae, so much.
The next day he was on a plane back to South Korea, travel bag in one hand as he watched the ground fall away from beneath him. He had to go back and get DongHae. The other would probably be angry at him, not want to talk to him anymore. But he just had to see DongHae again, because if he didn’t, he was going to tear himself into pieces.
The plane ride was long and hard for him. When it finally touched down on Korean soil, he rented a car and went straight out towards his old home, ignoring how tired he was. This was his chance to make things right again.
KiBum finally reached his old village… And what he saw made him hit the brakes. Construction was everywhere, signs being put up for new model houses that would be available to the public by the end of the year. All the little houses already there were being renovated, dirt roads being covered with concrete. But what made him stop was the fact that the field was gone, all mowed down and dug up to lay foundations for the new houses come in. All that remained was the large rock that had been in the middle, sticking out like a sore thumb against the flat terrain.
I survive on two things. Your belief and your memories. And your memories are all in this field, so once it’s cut down… I won’t exist anymore.
KiBum pulled over so that he would stop traffic, staring at what had become of the place he’d spend his childhood. His eyes searched frantically for that familiar figure, the one that he missed so dearly. But DongHae was nowhere to be found.
I’m scared…
Resting his forehead against the steering wheel, shaky breathing gradually became heart wrenching sobs, as KiBum cried.
I don’t want to disappear.
*****
“KiBum, your patients here.”
Looking up from his papers on the boy he was supposed to be seeing, he smiled at his secretary, then at the boy standing shyly behind her. “Come in,” He said pleasantly, watching the boy with messy hair walk in and stand in front of him awkwardly.
Five years later, KiBum was working as the child psychiatrist he’d always wanted to be. He’d gone into depression upon returning to America, and it had taken his friends months to pull him out of it. Now, he was on the mend, leaning on his friends as well as his new boyfriend YeSung to help him move on. No one could ever truly replace DongHae in his heart, but he knew YeSung was probably as close as he was ever going to get, and he did care for his hyung deeply. And the older male was more than patient with him, something which KiBum appreciated.
“Don’t look so shy,” KiBum said, smiling brightly at his newest patient, who slowly smiled back. Looking down at his notes, he continued. “Your name is Lee HyukJae, right?” At the boys nod, KiBum motioned for him to sit, and the child obeyed. He looked barely over ten.
“Do you know why you’re here, HyukJae-sshi?” He asked, leaning forward slightly. The boy shrugged. KiBum looked at his notes again. “Your mom and dad say you have an imaginary friend,” He said gently.
“He’s not imaginary!” HyukJae countered, folding his arms across his chest. “He said you’d say that, and he says you’re a big mean toad too.”
“Really?” KiBum chuckled, but something inside him reacted to those words. He was sure he’d heard something similar once. “Is he here now?”
“Yup,” HyukJae replied, obviously not liking KiBum right off the bat from his angry, pouting face.
“Why don’t you tell me a bit about him?” KiBum asked, genuinely curious now.
“…” HyukJae looked off to one side uncertainly. KiBum noted how the others eyes lingered on one spot in particular, and the slight nod he gave before looking at KiBum again. “He’s the bestest friend ever. He never tries to make me cry, and he always knows exactly what to say. He says we’ll always be best friends, and that you want to take him away from me.”
“I see…” KiBum mused, no longer looking at his notes, but looking at HyukJae with keen eyes. “Does he have a name?”
“Of course!” HyukJae replied, like that was the silliest question he’d ever heard. “He’s DongHae, Lee DongHae!”
The pencil KiBum had been tapping against his desk stopped. The male blinked several times, looking at the child who stared at him so defiantly. Gradually, so slowly it seemed to take years, a smile appeared on the doctors face.
“Really? Well, in that case, I really can’t help you.” HyukJae looked confused. KiBum chuckled. “Obviously, you’ve got a very good friend with you, and I’d have to be that big mean toad like he said to split up such good friends, right?”
“You mean you’re not going to say bad things about him?” HyukJae asked, eyes wide. “Everyone else does.”
KiBum shook his head, standing and going over to where the boy sat. Kneeling down in front of HyukJae, he placed his hands on the others shoulders. “I’m not going to tell you what to believe. But don’t let go of him HyukJae. Everyone deserves a friend, and you’ve got the best of the best. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, alright?” He winked. “Our little secret, okay?”
HyukJae nodded. “Okay.” Then he looked somewhere over KiBum’s shoulder and smiled. “DongHae’s happy. He says you’re not such an evil toad after all.” KiBum chuckled, feeling a longing in his heart when he saw the adoration in HyukJae’s eyes as he talked about his friend no one else could see.
KiBum escorted HyukJae out of his office. As the boy left, YeSung appeared. “You’re just about done for the day, right?” The older asked, kissing KiBum lightly on the lips. Then he noticed the smile on KiBum’s face. “What’s up?”
KiBum looked at the other for a moment, before returning his gaze to HyukJae. “He didn’t disappear,” He replied, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders as YeSung looked at him confused.
The pair watched as HyukJae walked out, one arm raised as he walked hand in hand with someone who couldn’t be seen, but was real nonetheless.