More importantly, this is for the awesome midorihaven because she keeps nagging me for a Yemin fic and I’m powerless to her nagging. Mwahaha. I hope this is satisfactory, nee-chan because honestly, I’m not sure of it myself. teehee
The Other Side
All of us long to become something.
You for me, and I for you,
We long to become a never-to-be-forgotten gaze.
-Kim Chun Su, ‘Flower’
You for me, and I for you,
We long to become a never-to-be-forgotten gaze.
-Kim Chun Su, ‘Flower’
The chirping of the birds outside signaled that it was probably morning. With his eyes still closed Kim Yesung briefly wondered if things will change when he opens them. Maybe today will be a day of miracles. Maybe if he takes a second longer to open his eyes, he would be able to see bright sunlight streaming through his windows.
Slowly and with anticipation, he allowed his eyes to flutter open. Left eye first, then the right.
There was no difference. It was dark all the same. Miracles won’t happen that day; they won’t probably happen anyway.
Lazily, he stretched and swung his feet off the bed as his hands automatically searched for the cane propped against his bedside table. The door creaked open slowly and heavy footsteps sounded.
“Good morning,” the voice of his private male nurse sounded. Yesung’s family had decided it fit to hire a private nurse so he would be better taken cared of until his surgery; until medical science managed to work its miracles on him. “Your monthly checkup is scheduled today,” the male nurse reminded him as he guided Yesung towards the bathroom for his daily morning rituals. Yesung has given up protesting that he’s not an invalid and that he can do things by himself months ago after a particularly painful bump on the bathroom door. He ended up with a swollen forehead after that.
“It’s not like it will make any difference,” he grumbled and the male nurse, whose name he still did not bother to ask, clucked disapprovingly at him.
“Too much negativity is bad in the mornings,” he reminded and Yesung ignored him. He locked the bathroom door and paid no attention to the reminders the male nurse was shouting. It has something to do with meeting a close friend after the checkup but Yesung couldn’t care less. With little difficulty, he felt around for what he needed. Five months of blindness taught him the necessary things he needed to know to survive – a state of necessity, his mother once joked dryly.
Five months of fumbling around in the darkness also taught him that the world is a cruel place full of insensitive people who only cares for you when you have something to give.
Yesung used to be a rising singer; someone with so much talent to show, so much potential to develop and so much dreams to achieve. He was on the brink of breaking the wall between ‘acknowledgement’ and ‘fame’ when the accident happened. A minute of losing the brakes, a week in the hospital, five months of blindness, a lifetime of regret. His shining star lost its brightness. The glorious sunset eventually evolved into an ink black night and sunrise seemed too far away.
“You’re allowed five more minutes in there until I barge in through the door. I have the master key, remember?” the male nurse taunted and Yesung cursed him. Cursed his eyes, cursed his life, cursed his own self.
“Whatever,” he hissed through the door.
“Will you be coming back? I hate to admit it but the children miss you.”
Lee Sungmin grinned and ruffled Kim Ryeowook’s hair as they walk slowly through the local park towards a corner where old people do their usual morning tai chi routine. The weak early morning sunlight failed to provide warmth that autumn morning and only a few diligent old folks came out to do their tai chi hobby.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” Sungmin said and he stretch his hands as he and Ryeowook positioned themselves behind the thin group of tai chi enthusiasts. “This is therapeutic, did you know?” he asked his friend and if possible, his grin widened.
Ryeowook lazily stretched and nodded.
“Whatever,” he murmured and pouted as he was dragged into Sungmin’s early morning addictions. “Why do you even do tai chi, anyway?”
“I have nothing else to do in the mornings,” Sungmin replied as he imitates the simple move from the leader of the group. “It keeps my mind off things. We all need a burst of positive energy every now and then,” he answered and looked amused as Ryeowook tried to balance himself.
‘This is nonsense,” the smaller man said through gritted teeth. “If you have nothing better to do, why not come back? You’re the children expert. Seriously, I think I’m going to lose my patience with that boy who keeps stealing candies from other patients,” Ryeowook confided. “He’s not even allowed to eat candies!”
A chuckle bubbled from Sungmin as he stopped for a brief moment and lightly slapped Ryeowook’s shoulders. “Call Kyuhyun. He’s an expert in children too. One nasty look from him and the work is done.”
“Kyuhyun was hired as a private nurse for some rising singer who lost his sight months ago. I didn’t even know you could do that… hiring a private nurse and all,” he complained and cursed about how he couldn’t even touch his own toes.
“Ah…” Sungmin said knowingly. “So that was why he called me.”
“Called you for what?” Ryeowook curiously asked.
“For some psychological help,” Sungmin said mysteriously as his eyes briefly twinkled before it reflected an expression akin to sadness. “I just wish I could be of help. In times like this, time becomes your mortal enemy,” he said and as he turned to Ryeowook, his eyes were once again bright and dancing. “You need to bend down a little more to touch your toes,” he reminded.
“Screw this.” Ryeowook said and gave up.
“If you give up at the beginning, how would you know what it feels like to succeed?” Sungmin chided him and pulled Ryeowook back to his feet. “Tai chi is easy. It doesn’t need that much skill. You need to enjoy it, the way you enjoy shopping and then it would be fun,” he patted the smaller man on the back.
“Seriously, hyung…” he began. “Will you be able to come back to work?”
Sungmin stared at him and paused, exhaling loudly before saying “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be able to come back next month, maybe next year… maybe… never,” Ryeowook looked sadly at him before Sungmin smiled and added, “Look at the brighter side of things. With me not being there, you get to do what you normally can’t do. You learn.” He grinned and gave his friend a thumbs-up sign.
Ryeowook nodded at him and looked up at the fully risen sun.
“How can you still smile in spite of everything?” he asked.
There was a pregnant pause and a few heavy breaths before Sungmin brightly said, “Because I got to spend more time with my family, I got to spend more time for myself. Look, I even learned how to do tai chi. It’s something I normally can’t do because of work.” He did a couple of tai chi moves before continuing.
“When everything happened, I was forced to leave work and ironically I accomplished more in these few months than in the past busy years of my life.” Sungmin explained as he exhaled and raised his arms, forming an imperfect circle. “It’s just a matter of looking at the other side of things, Wookie. At the brighter side of things.”
Ryeowook stared at him in painful admiration before nodding and stretching, imitating Sungmin’s movements.
“It’s still going to be okay, right? “ He asked, searching for reassurance.
Sungmin shrugged at him, a little tilting of the shoulders.
“Nothing was ever wrong in the first place. I was just…” he bent down. “I was just jolted back to the reality that time waits for no one. Not for special people, not for ordinary people. It ticks for everyone at the same speed and it won’t stop just because you have more important things to do.” He stretched his right leg and stared at Ryeowook.
“Every person’s time is limited. It’s not only mine.”
Yesung is starting to become impatient. It felt like they’ve been waiting in line for the doctor for hours and his name is still not being called.
“How much longer do we have to wait?” He asked his male nurse and tapped his cane impatiently. “What time is it anyway?”
There was a small sigh beside him.
“You’re next in line, we’ve only been here for fifteen minutes and it’s about three in the afternoon,” the male nurse answered. “I’d like you to meet a friend after, would that be okay?”
Yesung smirked. “Even if I say it’s not okay, you’d drag me to meet him anyway and I’m powerless because I’m blind,” he stated with bitterness and he could feel the male nurse breathing uncomfortably.
“Maybe I will. You need someone to get some sense in your head. There are people more hopeless than you but they don’t act as helpless as you,” the nurse chided and refused to say another word until Yesung’s name was called.
After a brief examination and a few questions, the doctor related that the eye bank confirmed a possible donor but Yesung could not have the surgery until he’s healthier. So he was prescribed all sort of vitamins, made to eat more vegetables and fruits and given a lot of other reminders that Yesung was sure he would ignore when he gets home. Maybe they were just pulling his leg. Maybe they were just making him hope for the best. There was really no eye donor. It’s just the doctors making it appear that they’re doing their job and make patients believe that their money is not going to waste.
“You’re so full of negative thoughts,” his private nurse chided when Yesung voiced out what he thinks.
“I’m just looking at the other side of things,” the blind man defended.
A snort sounded. “The negative side of things,” the nurse corrected before leading him out of the hospital. “Would it kill you to look at the brighter side of things?” he commented and Yesung chose to ignore him, the way he always does. His male nurse does not really care, Yesung thought. He was merely doing his job for money and nothing more.
Things are not really what they seem; they all have another side and that side, for Yesung, is always the darker one. It’s always been that way and it will never change.
But things changed, or at least they started changing that same afternoon as the male nurse guided him towards a nastily screeching old swing in the nearest local park. The afternoon autumn air was chilly even under the orangey light of the sun. The fallen dried leaves create crunchy sounds under their feet as they walk. The iron swing itself was cold under his butt when the nurse made him sit. Yesung glared in his direction (hoping he was actually facing the nurse) and waited as he listens to the man noisily typing something in his mobile phone.
“Oh, I didn’t know you’re already here,” Yesung heard his nurse saying and another person’s footsteps as he stepped on the crunchy leaves.
“Yeah, I have nothing better to do,” an alien voice said. “Hi, I’m Lee Sungmin, pleasure to meet you,” the new man said as he touched Yesung’s hands with his own warm ones.
Yesung grunted in response and refused to say anything. This is pathetic.
The male nurse cleared his throat.
“Well then, I’m leaving him to you Min. Try to put some sense in his head. I’ll be back after an hour,” then there was a pause. “You’ll be okay, right? It’s okay for you to go out, right?” the nurse asked and Yesung knew it wasn’t for him.
“Yeah. Perfectly okay, Kyu.”
And then they were alone, or at least Yesung assumed they were as he could not hear his private nurse anymore. A screeching sound assaulted his ears as he felt the Lee Sungmin occupy the vacant swing next to him. A gentle blowing sound could be heard for the first few minutes as Sungmin leisurely tried to keep his hands warm, his legs outstretched while the swing moves back and forth.
“Can you stop moving? I hate the screeching sound,” Yesung complained after his ears got irritated by the sound of iron grating iron.
Sungmin laughed beside him and continued swinging, his feet dangling.
“Why not? It’s fun. Let me push you,” he offered as he stood up and started pushing Yesung gently. “Hold on tight, Yesung.”
The blind man gripped the sides of the swing tight and felt his cane drop to the ground. He was about to complain when he heard the other man say his own name.
“You know my name?”
“Of course,” Sungmin said as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I want to know the name of the people I talk to,” he explained. “It helps build relationships.” After a moment of thought, he asked, “Do you know the name of your own private nurse?”
Yesung snorted. “Why would I bother to know? He’s just a man doing his job and the relationship between us is nothing more than an employer and an employee.”
“Mhmm…” Sungmin said thoughtfully, still pushing Yesung. “His name’s Cho Kyuhyun. He’s my friend.”
“Like I care.”
“We work in the same hospital. I’m also a nurse and we’re in charge of the pediatrics department. It’s fun working with children, do you know?” Sungmin offered, completely ignoring Yesung.
“I said I don’t care,” he repeated as he felt the wind rustling his hair gently. His feet dangle off the ground and without much thought he playfully kicked empty air and smiled satisfactorily to himself. The swing kept moving, making annoying screeching sounds and Yesung wiggled his feet as Sungmin kept pushing, telling him stories about himself and Kyuhyun.
“Did you notice?” Sungmin said and stopped pushing the swing. “You haven’t been complaining about the screeching sounds for the last ten minutes.”
“I…” Yesung began and paused, feeling the aftereffects of the world around him suddenly stopping its movements. “Well… yeah.”
An amusing sound grazed his ears and Yesung realized it was Sungmin laughing.
“You get to enjoy things better if you give yourself a chance to try it,” he explained and sat back down on the swing beside Yesung.
“Whatever,” the blind man commented. “This is why Kyuhyun introduced you to me, isn’t it? You’re about to tell me some philosophical things about life and make me change my view on a lot of things. It’s not going to happen,” he stated firmly.
“Oh, you called him by his name,” Sungmin gleefully countered and Yesung made an annoyed sound. “Hey, do you know what’s in front of us now?” he suddenly said with joyful ecstasy, much like a child. “There’s a large cherry tree but its leaves have already fallen. Do you know that wishing under a cherry tree could grant wishes?”
Yesung snorted, but found himself listening anyway.
“And then a man and a woman stood under it,” Sungmin cackled gleefully. “They’re kissing.”
“Why are you snooping on kissing people?” Yesung reprimanded him but Sungmin answered with a contagious giggle.
“I’m not the only one,” he defended. “There are elementary school kids pointing at them from a bench not far away from the tree. And oh… there’s a man on his bicycle who took a look at them and he hit a trash can. Clumsy,” Sungmin gleefully told him, laughing until he choked.
Yesung thought Sungmin’s laughter sounds weird but he found himself all ears, listening as the man describe the world Yesung could not see.
“Such an idiot,” he commented and Sungmin expressed his approval. “What else?”
Sungmin made a sound as if he’s thinking and continued. “Ah… a policeman approached the kissing couple and they’re nodding shyly. Maybe they got told off for improper public behavior. Ah… it seemed like the man on the bicycle earlier is a policeman. There’s still a plastic trash stuck on his elbow,” he continued and laughed.
Yesung found himself smiling, picturing the entire scene in his head as Sungmin’s laughter echoed and bounced at the four walls of his mind.
“Funny,” he commented, grinning from ear to ear. “What else can you see?”
“That side of the park is empty now,” Sungmin said, disappointment apparent in his voice. He turned to Yesung, picked up the other’s cane and handed it to him. “Why do you hate the sound of the swing?”
“Because it’s annoying to the ears. Do you like it?”
“Not really,” Sungmin admitted, his hands brushing against Yesung’s as the other took the wooden cane. “I just think that when the swing starts to screech annoying sounds, it means it’s been of good use. It served a purpose,” his voice seemed to smile and linger. “It’s the other side of reality,” he said and stood up.
“The only side of reality I know is dark and cruel,” Yesung countered with a smirk on his face. “It’s always been that way.”
Sungmin made a sound as if to reprimand him but thought better of it.
“You’re a singer, right?” he suddenly asked after a moment of silence.
Yesung grunted and said “Yeah. Used to be a singer. Now I’m just an ordinary blind person,” he said the words as if it left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.
“Not a blind person,” Sungmin said gently as the swing he was sitting on once again made the screeching sounds. “Just someone learning how to appreciate the light through darkness,” he said philosophically and chuckled. When he spoke again, his voice sounded thin and almost broken. “It’s pretty much the same for those people who are about to die. They’re not ‘dying’ persons, they’re just people given the chance to appreciate life through death.”
“Are you one of them?” Yesung asked.
Sungmin forced a laugh and countered him with the same question: “Are you one of them?”
With that, Yesung found himself smiling, his chapped lips stretching into a gentle grin.
“You’re really weird,” he tells Sungmin and as the other’s giggles bubbled like water from a jar, Yesung allowed his tensed shoulders to relax as his feet gently propelled the swing to move back and forth.
“You look much better when you’re smiling, did you know?” Sungmin asked and reached over, pulling Yesung’s cheeks with his hands. “There. I should bring a tape the next time I saw you and tape your cheeks to your ears so you’ll keep on smiling,” he joked.
A sound much similar to a chuckle escaped from Yesung as the tensed atmosphere between them lightened into one similar to a blooming friendship. Sungmin started talking about funny stories of the children he used to attend to in the pediatrics department. He talked about how he hates naggers when he wakes up in the morning and how smelly a cat poop is. When he allowed Yesung to talk, the blind man talked about the joy of performing onstage, the satisfaction of hearing screaming fans, how tiring it is to release a single and how awesome it felt to shake hands with big celebrities.
Sungmin admitted he’s not that much of a people person, Yesung admitted he likes attention.
“We’re two sides of the same coin,” Sungmin commented, sighing comfortably.
An hour later Kyuhyun came back holding hot roasted walnuts.
“Time to go home,” he tells Yesung, grinning at the unusual flush on the other’s cheeks. “How did it go?” he asked, addressing both Sungmin and Yesung.
To his surprise, the blind man answered with a little more enthusiasm that what Kyuhyun expected.
“It’s okay, I guess,” Yesung said but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him. “Sungmin described how the couple of lovers kissing in front of us got admonished by the police,” he related.
Kyuhyun curiously looked at what was in front of them and raised his brows at Sungmin.
“Have you two been sitting here all along?” he asked and Sungmin nodded.
Grinning, Kyuhyun turned his gaze once again to the blank gray wall covered by brown Ivy leaves in front of the swing. He grinned knowingly.
“I bet it’s a pretty interesting thing.”
Sungmin nodded wisely at him. “It is, isn’t it, Yesung?” And then he grinned as the fading rays of the sun caught his attention. “Hey, Yesung. Do you know what’s so special about looking at the other side of the setting sun?” He asks.
“It’s sunrise… at the other side of the world.”
That night, as Yesung lie in bed listening to the sounds of the darkness, he smiled satisfactorily at his childhood memories of playing in the swing at that local park.
He chuckled. He smiled. He laughed in a manner he had not been laughing since his sight had been taken away from him.
There was never a cherry tree in that local park, in front of the swing.
There was only an empty wall.
The second time Yesung was able to talk to Sungmin, it was in the middle of a cold autumn afternoon. A strong wind was blowing and he pulled the collar of his shirt higher, shielding his exposed neck from the cold. His hands were gloved and Kyuhyun laughed at the yellow, polka-dot decorated gloves Yesung received as a gift from a fan many months ago.
“You look cute,” Kyuhyun teased.
“Shut up,” Yesung snarled at him.
He complained about it to Sungmin who merely laughed and told him that Kyuhyun likes to tease people until the veins on their foreheads explode.
“Tell me something interesting about what’s in front of us,” Yesung requested. They were sitting at a wooden bench in the same local park, facing a huge oak tree. The swing had been occupied by children yelling at each other and their voices could be heard from where Yesung and Sungmin sat.
“Sure,” Sungmin said and started talking about wood nymphs and fairies living inside the oak tree. He related that at night, just before dawn breaks through the sky, fireflies could be seen surrounding the oak tree.
“Fireflies are fairies,” he explained and Yesung sported a goofy grin on his face as he listens to childhood stories about elves and creatures pretending to be human. The oak tree is actually a castle, according to Sungmin. There is never a sunset inside the tree, only sunrise. The walls are made of shining gold and the floors are made of bright red rubies.
“Must be blinding inside, then. Good thing I’m blind,” Yesung teased and Sungmin smacked him gently on the head.
They met the day after and strolled around the park with Yesung’s right arm looped around Sungmin’s left. They talked about their likes in music, food and candies. Sungmin pulled him towards the icy cold pond and made him dip his left hand in the water.
Yesung flinched at the cold that stung his hands. It came in contact with something wet and slimy and he pulled out his hand in fear.
“Snake!” He exclaimed stupidly and Sungmin’s energetic laugh bubbled in his earns.
“It’s just a moldy dried leaf that fell on the water,” Sungmin explained.
“Whatever,” Yesung said and refused to play with the water any longer.
They met everyday after that. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes Sungmin would simply ask Yesung to sing for him. It was an addiction for the young singer; an anchor to sanity, a light piercing through the darkness he endured. Sungmin was bubbly, almost childish and playful and yet he is more mature than people probably gives him credit for. He has a voice different from the rest, melodic and melancholy at the same and on those nights that sleep wouldn’t claim him, Yesung wondered how the man who taught him the ‘other side of things’ look like.
Does he have a mole on his face? What’s the color of his hair? What does his smile look like? Do his eyes turn into half-moons when he smiles? Are his cheekbones high? Does he look nice? Ugly? Plain? Stunning?
“Can I touch your face?” Yesung made a request on a particular day when Sungmin had been less talkative. They simply sat in front of the magical oak tree and munching on roasted walnuts.
Without a word, Sungmin guided Yesung’s hand to his face, closing his eyes as the other’s hand traced his forehead, lingered on his eyes, down to his nose and to the curve of his lips. Yesung smiled when he playfully pinched Sungmin’s cheeks and played with his ears. He ruffled Sungmin’s soft hair and twirled it with his fingers.
Yesung did not make a sound as he trace the other man’s features, drawing Sungmin’s face in his mind, feeling Sungmin’s heartbeat, seeing the color of his soul. And in a voice rich with admiration and something more, he whispered in Sungmin’s ears:
Sungmin stood in front of the mirror that night. With shaking hands, he traced his own reflection. There were dark circles under his eyes, pale skin, chapped lips, hollowed cheeks. He’s not beautiful.
And then his gaze moved up towards his eyes and Sungmin felt something similar to disappointment, not because what his eyes look like but from what was shining in them.
How could something so beautiful arrive so late? How could something that feels so right come at the wrong time and at the wrong circumstance?
He touched his own face, felt his own neck and eventually his hands landed on his chest, feeling his gently beating heart.
Yesung’s voice resonates in his ears, “You’re beautiful,” he said in a voice rich with emotion and admiration. As the warm tingles spread through him, Sungmin decided that the other side of things is indeed bright and beautiful.
“I’m going to have the eye surgery in a week,” Yesung tells Sungmin. They were back at the swing with the annoying screeching sounds and Yesung could hear the flashes of Sungmin’s camera. “You’re taking pictures?”
Sungmin moved closer to him and aimed the camera a few inches away from Yesung’s face. Smiling gently, he took a picture of him with his unseeing eye wide, his lips a little pouted, like he was kissing the camera.
“I just took a picture of you,” he said in a small sing-song voice.
“For a lot of things,” Sungmin replied, kicking dried leaves. He listened as Yesung tells him that his eye surgery is schedule the week after, how he needed two or more weeks to recover and how Sungmin is not allowed to visit until he can see again.
“It makes our first ‘sight’ interesting,” Yesung explained and Sungmin merely nodded to everything. “Hey,” he called Sungmin’s attention as he reach out his hands, trying to grasp Sungmin’s hands.
The smaller man took Yesung’s cold hands in his own warm ones and blew on it.
“Tell me what you see in front of us. Surely, it’s not a wall, is it?” Yesung teased knowingly as Sungmin grinned, nodding his head. He sat down on the swing beside Yesung and started talking about two old men in a wheelchair, discussing their plans for the week.
“They’re partners for life,” Sungmin says. “One is 90 years old, the other 91. Just a year of difference,” he explained then proceeded to tell Yesung how the two rolled on their wheelchairs arguing about the color of the setting sun. “Oh, and they’re also arguing on whether they should just stick to the Ferris Wheel or try out the super fast roller coaster,” he giggled.
Yesung grinned and listened, Sungmin’s hands still holding his.
“You always tell the most amusing stories,” he observed and sighed, idly feeling the ground with his feet. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“You’ve already seen me,” Sungmin said as he brought Yesung’s hands to his lips and kissed it. “There are some things, some people that you see with your eyes, others you see with your heart.”
“I think I like you,” Yesung admitted and grinned.
“I know,” Sungmin answered and sighed. “Let’s get you home. It’s getting chilly.”
“Hey,” Yesung called for his attention one again.
“I’ll be able to see you, right? We’ll meet again, right?”
Sungmin’s eyes softened and voice lingered amidst the sepia-toned wind.
But that was the last time he ever talked to Sungmin. That was the last time he heard amusing stories of what was happening at the other side of the gray wall; the last time he heard Sungmin’s weird laughter, the last time he heard of fairies in the oak tree and old men on a wheelchair.
Two weeks after Yesung’s surgery, when his eyesight returned albeit a little dimmer than usual, he forced Kyuhyun to accompany him to the local park.
“Sungmin will be waiting,” he reasoned, too engrossed in his own excitement and longing that he missed the misty look his private nurse gave him. “We usually meet at this hour. I told him he’s not allowed to visit me before they take off the bandages. He didn’t come, did he?”
Kyuhyun shook his head.
They walked slowly, each footstep heavy with anticipation. Yesung conjured up amusing stories about the hospital, about the operating room, about the doctors whose faces he never saw. He made up stories of little ghosts in the hospital bathroom and fireflies that visit him at night. Sungmin would be delighted to hear them. It was him always telling Yesung stories, now it’s Yesung’s turn.
But Sungmin was not there. Not at the bench, not by the pond, not even by the swing.
“He probably still don’t know that he can already visit,” Yesung reasoned and Kyuhyun patted him on the back.
A week later when his eyesight was almost back to normal, he was discharged out of the hospital and the first place he went to was the park, hoping against hope that Sungmin would already be there.
But he was not.
Yesung pushed the swing idly as he looked at the clouds tinged with orange rays from the setting sun. It’s sunrise once again. It’s sunrise at the other side of the world.
Footsteps sounded behind him, stepping on the crunchy dried leaves. Yesung turned around sharply, in anticipation but found himself disappointed to find Kyuhyun standing there.
“Waiting for Sungmin?”
“He promised we’ll see each other again,” he stubbornly said.
Kyuhyun merely nodded and looked down at his feet. He fumbled for something in his bag and handed Yesung a small orange box.
“I was instructed to give this to you when you can see again,” he croaked with a raspy voice and shaking hands. And then he left quickly without another word, his footsteps fading with the afternoon sun.
He sat on the swing and idly moved himself back and forth and for some reason, he found his eyes misty with tears as photograph after photograph of a man with dark fringes covering his eyes greeted him. As he turned each photograph over, the same words appear in the neatest handwriting Yesung has ever seen.
“Hi! I’m Sungmin~”.
He browsed through each of them. Sungmin making goofy faces in front of the camera, Sungmin pouting, Sungmin smiling, Sungmin sticking his tongue out, Sungmin grinning. All Sungmin. As Yesung trace the photographs with his hands he remembers that moment when he first touched Sungmin’s face.
With as much emotion and as much love since that day, he found himself once again whispering:
At the bottom of the small box, hidden by the pile of photographs lay something similar to a silver locket the size of a normal ID picture with the shape of the other half of a heart. It held Sungmin’s small picture facing to the left and as Yesung inspects it, he found that you could unlatch it from the side and when he did, the locket opened to the full shape of a heart. At the other half was his own picture, facing Sungmin’s, his eyes wide with awe.
Choking back a sob and calming his wildly beating heart, he turned the locket around to its other side and found the words that would infinitely speak of love and sadness for him:
For the kiss we’ll never have.
And that was when he knew he would never see Sungmin again. At least not in this lifetime, at least not in this side of the universe.
The afternoon sun winked at him and the orange wind blew, rich with voices and faint memories. He sat bent down on that swing as his tears stained the dried autumn leaves.
A week later Yesung found himself strolling back to the park, back to the old swing, telling the young lovers sitting there of the lovers admonished by the police under a cherry tree behind the wall and of the old men in wheelchairs talking about a rollercoaster ride. They smiled at him in disbelief as he walks away towards the bench in front of the oak tree.
“There’s a castle inside that tree,” he tells a small kid who sat at the other end of the bench eating popcorn. “Its walls are made of gold and red shining rubies line the floor,”
“Then it must be too shiny,” the little kid said, his front teeth missing and Yesung chuckled, reaching over and ruffling his hair.
Half an hour later when the kid went home and the strolling lovers got tired of walking, a young teenage boy around the age of fifteen sat panting on the bench, holding his test results in hand and frustratingly scratched his head.
“Hey, mister, do you know what time it is?” he asked as Yesung surveyed him. He must have been a junior high or a highschool student, worried about his own test results, thinking that the world suck and would never be kind to him.
Yesung smiled as images of Sungmin filled his mind and he was taken back to the first day they met, one lonely afternoon by the old screeching swing. With a lingering voice and a soft smile, he turned to the kid and asked:
“Do you know what’s so special about looking at the other side of the setting sun?”
He smiled and patted the kid on the back. And with a voice raspy from emotion and love, he whispered:
“It’s sunrise…at the other side of the world.”
1. Blame midorihaven , blame midorihaven , blame midorihaven .
2. I could have ended this in a better, less emotional way but I’m a masochist and my writing fails me at times. Teehee
3. It’s long, I know. It’s pointless, I know, but hey, NEE-CHAN, there’s Yemin in it!
4. This is for midorihaven: don’t you ever retaliate by killing one of Kyumin or making Sungmin dump baby Kyu. ^^
5. Anyone know if Kyuhyun got a twitter already?
6. I noticed I say a lot of things and try to justify the ending of fics where I think my writing sucks? Haha
7. I will update September on Monday, that’s a promise. I’ve written half of it but I ran into a dead end.
8. I talk too much. *runs away*