#cercatrova

Almaty, which you hadn’t heard of before, so you googled it. It was the largest city in Kazakhstan, and it looked beautiful to be honest. But how the hell were you going to find someone living there, when all the clues you had were the pictures of a house. It wasn’t a house really, this one. It was a white building that looked a little like an old church, beautifully simple and pristine. “Why Almaty?” you dad asked as he helped you carry your duffle bag to the check in. You shrugged. “I picked a few cities and rolled the dice. I want to see a lot of places, thanks for letting me do this.” “You deserve it, we love you, please call.” You mom said, hugging your with tears in her eyes. Just like she had cried when you went to university for the first time, or when you moved in with Suho. “Bye mom! Bye dad! I love you!”

The plane ride was long, almost 12 hours. A little bit long for a first time plane ride, but you weren’t afraid. You slept a lot, and looked at the pictures. One of the first thing you’d done after you opened the box was go to the store to buy one of those little picture books where you could keep them. Right now, his camera was in your bag, protected in it’s leather pouch. It wasn't like those camera’s kids these days had, made of colourful plastic. It was old, made of metal and kind of heavy, but it worked. To your surprise it did take colour pictures. There were 10 cities, Marseille, Almaty, Barcelona, Berlin, Edinburgh, Arizona, Colorado, Lyon, and  Yunnan were all pictures with writing underneath it. There was one blank white photo, with writing on the film itself, London. You weren’t sure why that one last picture was like that, it was the first one you found in the box. Guess you’d find out when you went there. The seat beside you was empty and you decided to stretch out your legs on it, sleeping with your head against the window. How would you ever find that little church? Could you just ask people? What if nobody spoke English? Your own English was terrible to begin with. Right now you decided to sleep your worry off, closing your eyes with your music softly playing though your headphones.

Your sleep was dreamless and you were woken by the stewardess, telling you to sit up right and put your seatbelt on for landing. It went smooth, at least, for as far as you knew since this was your first slight. The plane jerked a little when it hit the floor and people started clapping, so you just went along with it. Why though? Almaty was a beautiful city indeed, and you had chosen a small hotel in the city centre. It was dark when you arrived there, and you suddenly felt lonely again. It hit you, as you entered the small room with a single bed and a teeny tiny bathroom. The bed was cold, and you curled up under the itchy sheets. Grabbing the little pouch with pictures. You had also put Suho’s other pictures in there, of you, and him, and your house, and the scenery. In the back was one picture, turned backwards so you couldn’t see. Ever since the day you took it, you hadn’t looked at it. “I need to do this.” you whispered, and slid it from it's place. It was a beautiful picture, the colours light and calm, whites, browns, greens and hints of blue. Suho, Junmyeon, sleeping peacefully on your couch. The pain hit you like a gunshot, creeping through your skin and settling in your stomach. Suddenly a sob broke the silence and you buried your face in the pillow. He was gone. There would be no more picture, no more stupid jokes, no more afternoons behind the piano, no more cuddles, no more smiles, no more touches. No more Suho. No more. No more. Tears were streaming down you face, and you couldn’t stop it. You had promised yourself that once you started this journey, you wouldn’t cry again. But how could it be helped. How could you ever get over this? How do people do that? How were you going to tell his brothers that he was dead, when you could barely face it yourself. They might not even know you existed, you just hoped that his necklace and photo’s would convince them to trust you. They should all have some sort of barcode on their body, you should ask them about it so you could note the numbers. It was a way for you to be sure it was them. Suho was 01, Jongin was 88. Does that mean there were more than just them? Even though you had slept for long on the plane, your body felt tired, worn out. Your sleep was restless, and you woke up a couple of times, but at least there were no worrying dreams. It seemed like for a long time you were in that state between awake and asleep where everything you’re mind still processed from the waking world morphed into something that was dream like. Like the sound of cars outside, and voices in the hotel, footsteps in the hallway. But there were no real deeper dreams. When you woke up you were still tired, somehow even more. Maybe getting out and about would help you wake up a little. In the streets you got a coffee from a small shop, it didn’t taste half as bad as you thought it would. The woman behind the counter was old, but she was very nice even though her English was almost non existent. On a whim, after she had handed your coffee that she made freshly with an old fashioned drip, you showed her the polaroid picture of the church. “Do you know where this is?” You said slowly, pointing it out. “Mektep.” she replied, or at least that was what it sounded like. “I'm sorry what?” She pointed a small wrinkly finger at the photo. “Mektep.” Was that the Kazakh word for church? “Do you know where?” Her dark eyes stared into yours. “Mektep.” There was no point in trying, so you handed her the money for the coffee. “Thank you!” In another small shop you bought a map of the city, one that had churched marked onto it with small crosses. Maybe it would help. It was of to just scout out as many streets as you could in as little time as possible.

***

2 weeks later

This wasn’t going anywhere, you found yourself in a run down hotel at the edge of the city. The map you had was filled with lines and crosses of places you had been, there was almost no place left to see. By now you felt scared, lonely, helpless and a whole lot of other things that made you just want to go home to your parents. What if he didn’t live her anymore? What if he was dead just like Suho? People had pointed you to very similar churches, but there was nobody who knew where this exact church was. No matter what you checked out each church people pointed out to you. But the only thing that had improved over the past two weeks was your understanding of the language. You were standing outside the hotel right now, ready for another day of searching, when someone approached you. He had a cap on, and you couldn’t really see his eyes, but were sure you hadn’t seen him before. “Hello.” he spoke. “You from Korea?” his voice was lithe, and pleasant to the ears. A frown appeared on your face, but then you remembered the Korean writing on the duffel bag that you had slung over your shoulder. “Not really.” “You speak Korean?” It was then that you noticed he was struggling with English. “Yes,” you replied in Korean. He smiled. “I see you have a map, can I help you find something? I saw you here yesterday.” A smile spread across you lips, could this be him? One of his brothers? Quickly, you pulled the picture from your pocket and showed it to him. “I'm looking for this church, do you maybe know where it is?” “That's not a church. But I think I’ve seen it before.” he tapped his lips with his forefinger. “Let me see your map.” Without any hesitation you handed him your art work of a map, and you know you should’ve at least been a little distrusting of him. “Wow.” he breathed. “You've been all over just to see this building?” You nodded. “Yes, I’m looking for someone, this is the only clue I have.” He suddenly turned to look at you, his eyes still partially hidden in the shade of the cap. “Like a lost family member?” The curiosity in his voice made you realise that this wasn’t him. If he was Suho’s brother he would’ve recognised the photo, or the handwriting, or at least something. “Something like that.” “Do you have a pen?” he asked, holding out his hand. “Oh, yes!” you fished it out of you pocked and put it in his waiting hand. He circled a place a couple of blocks over, and then drew a line across to where you were now. “Okay so I think it’s somewhere around here, you haven’t been here yet I assume since there’s no lines. I might be off so look around a little but I think it’s here. It’s an abandoned school building, white, sort of big. You might even be able to enter and see what’s inside.” He handed you the pen and the map, and smiled. “I hope you find that person.” You returned him smile. “Thank you so much, it means a lot.” “I was actually going to ask you out for coffee yesterday, but then I saw the map so I thought you might be going somewhere. But here you are again.” His comment shocked you, and you still couldn’t see his face properly. You couldn’t accept his offer thought. “I don’t really go out with stranger, especially in cities I’m not home to.” The smile on his face faded, but he nodded. “I understand, sorry for bothering you.” you felt bad as the tone of his voice sounded a little hurt. “No, don’t be! You helped me and I appreciate that. But my boyfriend passed recently, and I just can’t.” “I'm sorry.” “It’s okay.” “It's not, nobody should have to go through that. I’m sorry for your loss.” “Thank you for helping me.” He smiled and touched your hand. “Stay strong, and I really hope you do find that person.” With a small cough he pulled his cap even further over his head and walked off down the road. In the opposite direction you were supposed to go and you wondered for a second if he had intended it that way. With a little sprinkle of hope you followed the directions on the map, leading you down a couple of narrow streets, but towards the city centre again. Above the rooftops you saw a little white peak, and it didn’t really surprise you. Along your way you had seen many similar peaks of buildings, and you had been wrong every single time. So you didn’t expect too much, however this was the first time you had properly conversed with someone. You’re phone beeped and you checked it. It was just some stupid e-mail.

Almaty 15:00

It was on your screen and you sighed. You had stayed in bed late today, because you just felt like shit. Until now. You rounded a corner, and a white building came into view. It was white, a little old, and seemed empty. Two small towers on the top of building looked identical to the picture. Tears sprang to your eyes as you took the photo out with shaky hands and held it up. It was here, this was the building, the one from the photo. “Oh my god.” you whispered, hand in front of your mouth. There was a door to the building, double, like a school. Just as the mystery boy had said. You rushed inside, not caring if you were trespassing. Large windows with small squares brought in the bright daylight and lit up the rooms. Your footsteps echoed up the wooden stairs, and through the rooms where old fashioned wooden cabinets lined the walls. It smelled a little stuffy, and it was quite cold inside. He wouldn’t be here right? Does he live in an abandoned school building? Thinking about it, it might not be all that weird, because they all used to live in an abandoned warehouse. It made you feel a little sad, the image of 12 boys living in a cold building, huddling together to stay warm at night. The way Suho has spoken about them made you feel like he really loved them with everything he had. How he had seemed to physically suffer while he spoke about Yifan his death, or the way Yixing had screamed. It explained his nightmares, that made him wake up crying. And you remembered comforting him in the middle of the night, as you soothingly had ran your fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. As long as it took for you to fall asleep again. Sometimes you stayed awake for hours, stepping out in the cold night to watch the stars as he slowly stopped shaking. A few times they were so bad that you woke up in a bed soaked through with water, like he lost all control. The roof of the building was big, and there were large wires up with small clothes pins. So it seemed like someone used this place to hang out there laundry. Was it the brother? There was a small set of stairs leading up one of the peaks, that made it seem like it was a church. Hesitantly, you went up there. What you found wasn’t what you expected. Books, stacks of books that were tumbled open by the soft wind. The rustling sound of pages moving in the wind, sunlight casting through the letters on the other side. You walked closer, pushing closed one of the covers and caressing the brown leather. It was weathered but something about the scene was so serene. You took the polaroid camera out of your bag and snapped a shot, intently watching as the picture rolled out, the sound familiar and comforting. The film was old and you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t ruin it on stupid things. This wasn’t stupid though, it was worth it. One of the book was on the bench, and you rested your duffle bag on there. Overdose was the title of the book, printed in golden letters on caramel coloured leather. You picked it up carefully, who could have left these books here? 

What you found on the inside sparked your hope again. Korean language, the little geometrical signs familiar to you as was the abc by now. Korean, Suho’s mother tongue, the language his brothers spoke too. This couldn’t be a coincidence. With the book still in your hand you looked around, the building towering over the smaller houses. Looking up into taller flats and skyscrapers. Was he here? Would he come home? You set the book back down, checking the now developed picture. It was perfect, capturing the feeling you got from the scene. Serenity and warmth. Where could he be though? He can't live here out in the open now can he? Back downstairs you found a few hallways you hadn’t seen yet, and one door was slightly ajar. You pushed it open, and found a room with two windows. There was a bed in there, it was a double bed but it wasn’t big. It was free of sheets and pillows, just a mattress with a cover that almost seemed to clean for it to just be there. Weird. In the whole building, there was no sign of somebody living here, and it made you feel sad. You suddenly felt down, tired, broken, again. It felt like you had gotten so close, but it was too good to be true. The bed was surprisingly soft as you sat down on it, and dropped the duffle bag at the end. You noticed a wooden cabinet of some sorts by the end of the room, and you stood up agains to check it. It wasn’t that you noticed what it was until you were actually close. “A piano?” you mumbled to yourself. It wasn’t like the one you and Suho had at home, which was pristine white, grand piano. This one was one of those vertical upright ones, and it was a deep dark chocolate brown that war worn around the corners. The lid was locked closed, but you noticed that it was rid of dust, like someone had recently cleaned it. The upper lid wasn’t closed tho, and you looked inside. The strings and all the other technical thingy’s you knew nothing about were clean too, like someone regularly tuned it. It was no use though. He probably didn’t live here, maybe somewhere close though? You sat back down on the bed and put your face in your hands. With a frustrated groan you let yourself fall back onto the bed. “Why is this so hard!?” you grumbled loudly. Right now it was more frustration that it was sadness, but you were on the verge of tears again. What if you couldn’t find any of them? You can’t fail Suho like that. You just can’t. Before you knew it, your frustration lulled you into a slumber, curled up on the empty bed with your fist clamped around Suho’s necklace.

Chen pov

20:01 Almaty

It was cold outside, and he pulled his beige coat tighter around himself. The sun was setting and a soft breeze ran through the narrow streets. It had been a slow day at work, and he was scratching the little remnants of chocolate from his skin. His bag was heavy around his shoulder and he made care not to bump it into anything on the way home. He stopped at a small takeout place and got dinner to take home. It smelled nice, and it made him realise that he was actually quite hungry. The place was a small Korean store at the corner by his place, and he was glad he found it. It reminded him of the food back at home, back in Korea, when all was good. Not today, not anymore. He promised himself he wouldn’t sulk on it any longer. About home, the ones he loved, the loss and the pain. It was in the passed, and he had to try and live on. With him finally getting the contract at work he had applied for small apartments in the suburbs, hoping for something better than the place he lived now. Illegally living in an abandoned school building wasn't the best thing in the world. He walked up the stairs and through the familiar hallways to his room. With a deep sigh he carefully sat down the bag, opening the top. “What the..” he trailed, when he saw the girl in his bed. She was small, curled up on herself. Her hair tied back in a ponytail that seemed knotted. There was a soft flush on her cheeks, and her fingers trembled in the cold. At the foot of the bed was a duffle bag, the top was zipped open and soft brown knitted fabric was hanging over the side. It was like a knock to his chest. It is just a blanket. He mentally told himself, as fingers reached out for it and his heart tightened. The feel of it was familiar between under his touch, soft and a little worn, thick brown wool thickly knitted to be warm. It looked so similar to the old blanket he used to sleep with when he was younger, the blanket they all used to sleep with. When they were cold at night, sad, crying for home. He took a shaky breath and tried to push back the tears. “It's okay.” he whispered to himself. She seemed fast asleep, breathing steady and even. Should he wake her? That was probably the best thing to do right? His hands were shaking, and he tried to calm down a little, as he reached out for her. Then his eyes landed on something shiny in her hand. A gasp left his lips. That necklace, the silver, the stupid design of it, he used to hate it but it made him smile now. A bitter smile, with worry and fear, but a smile nonetheless. A smile to the good memories it brought back, and an aftertaste to the bad ones. Junmyeon's necklace. He put his hand on her shoulder, and shook her lightly. “Hey, wake up.” Her eyes fluttered open, slowly at first. Then, like realisation sat it, she shot up and scooted all the way back on the bed until she hit the wall. Her eyes wide and frightful. “It's okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” He spoke, English a little crooked. With big eyes, her lips parted and she looked around. Her gaze roamed over his face and that was when he remembered. His scars. Sometimes he forgot about them, the angry red lines on his face and chest. His own stupid fault. She let her gaze flicker to his hand, and he followed it. His mark, the barcode, the number 21. It seemed to spark something within her, and she crawled a little closer. His breath got stuck in his throat as she lifted her hand to his. “You…You’re his brother. I finally found you.” she whispered in Korean. “What?” Fear, anxiety, bad scenarios. “Please tell me he’s okay.” Chen whispered, surprised at the emotion in his own voice. He didn’t need to see more than the look on her face. “I wish I could.” The tone of her voice matched his. Tears filled his eyes now and he couldn’t stop it, there was no stopping it. Of all of them to go first it couldn’t be him, not Junmyeon. They all needed him the most. He took a deep breath and tried to get himself together. “Was he happy?” A soft smile broke the sad frown of her eyebrows. “As happy as he could be I think.” “Then I hope that was in his heart, then he went.” “It was.” she whispered, and her voice wavered, pitching high. Like she was about to cry. He moved his hand on top of hers. “Can I ask you who you are, why you are here?” She swallowed, and moved to sit with her legs crossed. “I am…” She stopped and shook her head. With a soft squeeze to her hand, he stood up. “Let me get you something to drink. I have food, it’s a little cold by now probably. But let’s eat first, then you can tell me if you want. I’ll be back.”

Reader pov

You watched him jog out of the room, almost tripping over his open bag. He had stunned you when you saw him. His eyes were dark, deep brown like Suho’s. But they held something childish, even as they clouded over with fright when you told him Suho had passed. His hair was dark brown, parted on the side and away from his face, showing his ears that stood out. White skin stretched over sharp cheekbones. Cheekbones that were lined with scars. Soft red squiggly lines ran over his skin, coming together in something bruise like. Like lightning bolts. Like he was struck by lightning and survived. As he came back with two mugs, you saw that one line stretched down past his jaw. Over the prominent curve of his adam’s apple, and disappeared under the collar of his shirt. He sat back down and handed you a mug. “I know drinking water out of a mug is stupid, but I don’t have much else.” He chuckled lightly and you took it with both hands. “I don’t know if you like Korean food, but it’s all I have right now.” You watched him put the take out bag on the bed and open it. The smell of fresh food filled your nose and your stomach growled. Over the past weeks you hand’t eaten too much, not wanting to waste the money. And you valued breakfast more than you did dinner. “It smells really nice, but you don’t have to do this.” “It's okay, you came all the way to this city for me, it’s the least I can do.” He handed you chopsticks and you broke them with a sharp click. “Thank you.” you mumbled. The two of you ate in silence and you watched him. He didn’t look anything like Suho, not at all. But then again, they weren’t really brothers. He seemed a little younger, maybe 23 or 24. There was something playful about the way his lips curled up at the corners, but his demeanour was a little more serious. Maybe it was the situation. You also noted that both his ears were pierced, but he didn’t wear any piercings. “Thank you,” you said again when you finished your meal, and you bowed your head to him. He laughed, bowing back. “You're welcome. So tell me, why are you here?” You sighed, and watched him throw away the plates and bag in a trashcan outside the door. “The day Suho passed.” “I'm sorry, did you just say Suho?” he interrupted you. “Oh…he never wanted me to call him Junmyeon, so I’m kind of used to it. I’m sorry.” “You have nothing to be sorry for. I just didn’t know he really stuck with that name, I thought he was joking at the time. I’m Jongdae by the way, I go by Chen, but you can call me Jongdae.” It made you feel closer to him that you should, that you could call him by his real name. “Jongdae.” you tried it out, and he nodded. “I’m y/n.” He held out his hand and you took it with a smile. “Nice to meet you y/n, now tell me about your journey, about my brother.” The fact that he referred to Suho, Junmyeon, as his brother sort of surprised you still. But it only made you realise how close they actually were. “Before he passed, he was nervous, he wasn’t sleeping well and kept getting these calls that he was hiding from me. I didn’t think too much of it, because I knew about his powers and that he was hiding more. I loved him, and I trusted him that if he was ready to tell, he would. Maybe I was naive. But that day, it’s about 4 months ago now, he told me about you guys. How you used to live in an abandoned building, with 12 of you. How people came in and kidnapped you, killed one of you.” “He shouldn’t have told you all that, it’s a lot of weight to carry.” he interrupted you again. You held up your hand. “There’s more. He told me about how they took you to some sort of asylum, or hospital, but he couldn’t remember much of what happened in there. Just that there was a lot of white, and drains, and nurses. You guys broke out, and you were on the run. You were lucky to make it out, get the chance to relocate. But you had to separate, and he was the only one with contact to all of you.” It was hard to say all this, and you tried to stay strong and keep your voice straight, but it was hard. Jongdae reached out for you, hand on your knee. “It’s okay, take a deep breath.” His hands were small, wide palm with shorter fingers. With a few deep breath you continued. “He told me he was supposed to meet Jongin, the teleporter, and he called, that he was at our house and it wasn’t safe outside. So we ran back to our place and-“ “You lived with him?” “We were in love.” Jongdae nodded and motioned for you to continue. “We ran back, but there was nobody there. So he told me to go pack upstairs, I was confused and didn’t know what was going on. But he said it was dangerous and we needed to leave. I was scared, for him, for myself. Still, I went to pack and that was when I heard sounds from downstairs. I wanted to go look for him, but I was stopped by Jongin. He told that Suho wanted him to protect me and he wouldn’t let me go.” “Don’t blame yourself, he knew they were coming, that’s why he did it.” You were stunned by his comment. “What?” “You said he was getting calls right? It was me the first times. I called him, said I had seen someone from the asylum in the streets. So I had to relocate in the city, going out was too dangerous. It’s why I live in this shit hole right now. Jongin is the one of us who keeps track of their movement, because he teleports. He probably found something, called Junmyeon. He knew something was off. He saved your life, they would have killed you.” For a moment you were silent, considering his words. “But he’s dead.” “He died so you could live.” “It-.” “It shouldn’t have been you, they were there for him. It was probably either fight or get taken, he chose fight. He knew the risk and he took it.” You shook your head, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jongdae came closer, and cupped your cheeks, looking you directly in the eyes. You might have imagined it but it was like you felt little sparks from his skin. “Listen it might be hard to believe, but it’s better this way. If they’d taken him, he’d be in their hands again. That’s worse than dying.” he stated, something dangerous flickering over his face. Then it dawned on you. “You remember don’t you.” “I wish I didn’t.” “I don’t want to know.” you said, and you clasped a hand in front of your mouth. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Jongdae now placed his hands on your shoulders. “It’s okay, I wasn’t going to tell you. You don’t need to know those things, you don’t deserve that.” “Are you okay.” You took his hand, and felt it was a little unsteady still, but warm against yours. He sighed, his shoulders dropping. “I’m in a better place now, I try to live in the day as much as I can. But you coming here, like this, the blanket, the necklace, everything. It just took me back. I’m sorry, it’s just a little much.” Now you touched his cheek, fingers trailing a mark there, up to the corner of his jaw. “It’s okay, I understand. You’re allowed to cry, or feel sad.” “No, I promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore. I’ve cried enough. You know, I used to be the one who cried the least. I always tried to see the brighter side of things, cheer the others up. And I told myself that even though they aren’t her with me, I have to try stay that way. For them. For Yifan and Luhan too.” he whispered the last part, and it’s like he broke. Sudden, a small sob, and two tears making a path down his face. You reached out for him, almost a total stranger, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He rested his head on your shoulder, his frame shaking. “I’m sorry.” he whispered against your shoulder. “Don’t be.” “You lost him too, I’m sorry.” His words had you shut up, and you just rubbed a hand up and down his back until he calmed down again. Jongdae’s hand were resting at the small of your back, still and warming you. Unlike Jongin’s touch, this was comforting and friendly, like you had known him for a longer time. But it was probably the fact that you were vulnerable, you had lost your boyfriend, the love of your life and any affection right was nice. You let him go, and used the sleeves of your shirt to dry his tears, like you had done with Suho back when. “He asked me to find you, before he died. Help you guys relocate.” “You think that’s safe? If they know my name they might track me.” “I know, but if they found you once, they’ll find you again.” He sighed. “That’s true. Are you aware that they are probably tracking you too?” You nodded. “But I have to do this. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” “You’re leading them to us.” he whispered, as if he didn’t want you to hear. “It’s the only way I could try, I didn’t know what else to do.” “It’s alright,” he gave your hand another squeeze, again with you felt sparks, like little pin pricks. “They might not, I don’t know. But I’ll contact someone, and relocate under another name. I mean if they knew my name and all they’d have found me by now right?” “I’ve been thinking you know, over the past weeks. What if they’re observing you?” Jongdae frowned, dark eyebrows furrowing. “Observe how?” “I mean, you guys were like an experiment, they tested you. So what if they want to know what you’re like in real life. Maybe they came for Suho because he told me. If they wanted me dead, don’t you think they’d have found me already? They probably knew I was there when they killed him.” His frown got deeper. “That sounds very plausible. You haven’t been attacked, or anything?” “No.” “Weird.” “Just take precaution and never tell anyone about them. Don’t take the risk, even for love. Trust me when your girlfriend finds out you have powers she will understand.” Jongdae nodded. “I understand why he loved you. Not many people would be this understanding towards us, not even our parents were.” “You don’t deserve any of the things that happened to you.” “Neither do you.” Suddenly a soft bark interrupted your conversation. And you both turned to the door. The small head of a puppy was peeking out of his bag, part of a blanket still over his head. It barked again, and tried to hop out but it only resulted in the bag falling over. The small animal rolled out wrapped in something that looked more like a large sweater now. Jongdae got up laughing. “I'm sorry I totally forgot about you.” he said, and picked up the little bundle. With care, he sat it down on the bed in front of you, unwrapping it from the article of clothing. It waddled unsteadily over the bed and onto your lap. “I got him from my boss, her Labrador had 8 puppies and she couldn’t keep them. I didn’t have it in me to say no.” You picked up the little puppy, and looked at it. It’s little tongue was hanging out of it’s mouth and it's fur was light and soft. Back in your lap, it curled up against your stomach and closed it’s eyes. “I think he likes you.” Jongdae chuckled, and scratched behind it's ears. For a moment, both of you put your attention to the puppy, getting up to make it a little place to sleep at the foot of the bed, beside your bag. Chen grabbed a box of dog food from his bag and fed it. “Did you name it yet?” you asked. “No, I actually haven’t, do you want to name it?” he looked up at you, eyes shining, rid of the sadness from moments ago. You thought about it, tapping your lips. “I'm bad with this.” “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind?” “I don’t know!” you whined. “Kris?’ “Okay I’ll name him Kris.” He pet the puppy. “Little Kris.” Slowly, as the night became deeper, you started to become tired and you leant back against the headboard. “That’s a stupid name for a dog.” Jongdae sat down beside you, legs stretched out. “I like it.” “Cheesy.” “Oh shut up.” Jongdae was nice, and he sat beside you in silence. Your eyes started to fall closed and you reminded yourself that you couldn’t stay here. With a groan, you sat up and made your way of the bed. “I need to find a place to stay for the night.” Your bag was heavy around your shoulders, and you scratched Kris behind his ears before you made to leave. “Stay here.” Jongdae said when you were by the door. You turned around, looking at him on the bed. “I know it’s a little weird, but I don’t want you to go out on the streets this late at night. It’s dangerous, Junmyeon might come haunting me in my sleep if I do.” “He might haunt you if you sleep in the same bed as his girlfriend.” “I'll take that over your safety.” He patted the bed. “Stay. I have blankets and stuff, I just lock them away before I leave so nobody steals them.” With your hands clenched around the strap of the duffle bag, you watched him get up. He knelt beside the bed and pulled out two large chests, old and worn like everything else. From the pocked of his checkered pants he pulled some keys, and unlocked the large boxes. Inside were pillows and a blanket. The other was filled clothes and necessities. He pulled them out and placed them on the bed. Something about the way he looked at you broke your heart. “Stay, please. It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to someone in this way. Like a friend. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” The edge in his voice was sharp and you recognised it from the way Suho had spoken to you when you first met him, and when he spoke about the time after he escaped. He was lonely, scared, and it made your heart reach out for him. All he wanted was for you to stay, keep him company. You couldn’t refuse. “Okay, but if you try anything weird I’m out.” “Yah! I won’t do that why do you think that!” he whined like a little kid and it made you laugh. For a minute or so he left to room to change into something else, and you did the same i his room. Sleeping in a long sleeved shirt and shorts that hit you mid thigh. Nothing too revealing. Jongdae came back in sweats and a short sleeved shirt. “Okay this is weirder than I thought it would be.” he mumbled scratching the back of his head, but he got under the covers nonetheless. He laid facing you, and smiled softly. Like with Suho, his eyes turned into little crescent moons when he smiled and it was endearing. Without really thinking you reached out to touch his face. You couldn’t really feel the scars, as they ran over his temple and the bridge of his nose. The patches where the lines came together were a little rougher but still not anything like real scars. “What happened to you.” His eyes were closed as he freely let you touch his face and neck, like it calmed him. “Junmyeon’s power was water, mine is lightning. I was stupid, I messed up.” “Does it hurt?” you brushed a thumb over his cheekbone, feeling him move as he sighed. “Not anymore. When it happened, I thought I was going to die. Everything felt like it was on fire, stinging, scorching. I woke up in the hospital.” He moved your hand and traced the lines in your palm, and you felt the little shocks of electricity against your skin again. It didn’t hurt, when you relaxed and let him do what he was doing it actually felt sort of pleasant. “I can’t control this, it’s always like this. I can’t touch people, or some objects.” His voice was so sad, and you realised that unlike with Suho, Jongdae’s power actually isolated him. It was a burden, a daily struggle. He could hurt people with it, hurt himself. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s okay, I’ve learned to live with it.” “You shouldn’t be alone because of it.” “I could kill you if I lose control. It’s not something light. Out of al of us, Suho is the one I expected to be able to lead a normal life the easiest. Water is one of the most destructive forces in the world, but it need time and needs to be vast. Just a little water can’t do nothing but drown you, and I’m not sure if he can do that. The others, like me, will probably never be in a solid relationship. We will never move in with someone, think about a shared future. We can't afford to lose control or to be exposed.” He seemed so serious, and you didn’t really want to argue him on this. Part of you knew he was right about this. It was sad to see him like this, you wondered what he was like when he was truly happy. What it was like to see more of the affection in his face you had seen when he was playing with the puppy. The way he touched you, careful but without hesitation was heartbreaking. Because you realised that he might not be able to do it with intentions of love and care meant for a partner. “I wish I could say that you should keep hope. But I know that hope is poison, and it only makes everything worse.” “I can’t disagree with you on that. Hope is only beautiful when the thing you hope for comes true. Otherwise it’s just a kick to the gut.” He closed his eyes again, like he was going to sleep. “It's weird, I’m 24 and I’ve never kissed somebody. Yifan dated a girl once for a few months, and he told me that when I grew up it’d date girls and kiss them too. I was 15 when he told me that. And here I am, almost 10 years later.” He made a sound that was something like a choked of laugh, but it wasn’t meant to be funny. Like he was laughing at himself, like he thought he was pathetic. Maybe you were stepping out of line, but you had to say it. “Jongdae, I want you to know that if you ever went out there and opened yourself up to the opportunity, you’ll find someone. You seem very nice and caring, and you’re very handsome. I feel that any girl would be lucky with you.” “Thank you.” You smiled at him. “Let's sleep, and not think about this anymore. Let’s dream happy dreams.” He nodded, pushing his hair back from his face. “I just have one more question.” “Sure.” “Did Junmyeon ever tell you about the meaning of his name, Suho?” Had he? You thought about it for a while, trying to see if you remembered enough Korean vocabulary to know what it means. Nothing sprang to mind. “I don’t think so.” “It means guardian. After we escaped, he said he wanted to use that name, for Yifan. I thought he was being sentimental, or that it was a stupid joke of his. I guess it wasn’t.” There was a little twist in your stomach, the heavy feeling of your heart in your chest. Everything Suho ever did was for his brothers. You just wished you had more time, to hear the happy stories of their childhood and not just the sad ones. The memories of them playing together, of them laughing together, how they slept in the same house and probably fought over who would take out the trash. Or who would wash the dishes, or clean up the table. “Good night Jongdae.” “Good night y/n.” he answered, before he closed his eyes. His palm was still resting against your between your bodies, and you watched it, feeling the tingling slowly subdue as he fell into a slumber. You followed soon.

***

It started with a burning sensation, then something like a slap to your skin. You were awake suddenly and moved away from the feeling. When your eyes had adjusted to the dark they met Jongdae’s. Wide, scared, darting around the room. “I'm sorry.” You looked at your hand, the skin was angry and red, and it was still burning a little. "I'm sorry, shit.” He scrambled of the bed and out the door, to return with a wet washcloth. With the utmost care he dabbed it on your sore skin, and the cold was soothing. “You should do it, if i shock you now I could kill you because of the water.” He wanted to leave it in you outstretched hand, but you grabbed his wrist, and pulled his hand back. You pulled it up to your face, and to your surprise all he did was watch. Watch as you pressed his ice cold palm against your cheek and tried not to flinch against the little pinpricks. “You didn’t do it on purpose Jongdae. It’s okay, I’m not afraid.” “You should be.” “I'm not. Did you have a nightmare?” you looked at him how he was shaking, the way his body seemed restless as his eyes never stilled on one thing. It reminded you of those time Suho had woken you screaming in a bed soaked with water. He couldn’t control it when he had nightmares. And it seemed the same for Jongdae. “I'm okay.” “You can talk to me about it, I won’t judge you.” He shook his head, laying back down while going back to dabbing your palm. “I have them more often, it’s about the asylum, the hospital we were kept in.” Now you knew why he didn’t want to tell you. “It’s alright.” “It’s not.” “I know.” “Does you hand feel better?” he said, changing the subject and examining your skin. It still hurt a little, but it was much better now. “It's better, thank you.” he opened his mouth. “Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry again, it’s okay. Suho couldn’t control it when he had nightmares either.” You brushed his hair behind his ear, searching his eyes for something. “Go back to sleep, it’s okay.” Jongdae closed his eyes, almost as if he was ashamed of himself. The corners of his lips remained upturned, but his eyebrows turned down. “Goodnight.” He had his hands pressed against his chest, as if he was afraid to touch you again. You reached over his body and towards your bag on the floor, taking out the brown blanket. It heavy and you placed it over both of you, without saying a single word. Some of the tension in his body seemed to subdue. He pressed his lips together, biting on them both. With a little bit of fear, for him to deny you, you reached out for his hand and intertwined your fingers. You closed your eyes, not wanting to look into his and see that fear again. So you squeezed them closed and whispered; “Sleep tight.”

***

The next day, Jongdae accompanied you to a internet cafe, for you to book plane tickets. He was a little frustrated when you told him you didn’t want to tell him where you were going. But you said it was for his own safety. His mind could unintentionally make him buy tickets for a place close, and you didn’t want that. You told him to wait 6 weeks to relocate, only sooner if something happened that was out of the ordinary. “Can you really not even tell me the country?” he whined. He seemed a little better today, more uplifted an childish than yesterday. “No Jongdae.” “Mean.” “Reasonable.” “Mean.” You didn’t reply. “Fine.” “Thank you.” you winked at him and printed your ticket. It took him a while to realise what you did. He pointed a finger at you accusingly. “I bet you are one of those girls that laughed at Suho’s stupid jokes, aren’t you.” You burst out laughing. “No, I didn’t. My plane leaves in 6 hours, I need to go.” Jongdae, pulled your bag, making you turn to face him. “You don’t have to. Stay a little longer?” He pouted, bottom lip sticking out, eyes twinkling. Then he knelt down to pick up Kris who was attached to a  leash made out of rope, and held him up next to his face. “Stay?” With another laugh you leant over and patted Kris’ head. “I would love to stay, but I can’t. I’ll miss you.” When you paid the man at the cafe, you left and stepped into the sunlight. Jongdae followed with Kris hobbling behind him. You faces him, smiling. “It was nice to meet you, and i hope I’ll see you again.” Jongdae came over, wrapping you into a hug. “I'll miss you, please do come again.” “You have my phone number, let me know when you relocate.” you whispered, hand resting at the back of his neck. “I know Suho had you call once a year, but feel free to call more often. I want to hear from all of you to make sure you’re okay.” “I’ll call every friday night.” and you heard the grin in his voice. “Don't push it.” It was a little hard to let go, and you knew that the reason you were drawn to him was because your heart was open. It was open with pain, empty, wanting, and affection was just nice. He probably felt the same, and you couldn’t give him the wrong idea. That would be wrong. As soon as you let go of him fully, stepping away, he took out his phone to fix you a cab. “They'll be here in ten minutes.” “Thank you.” “No, thank you.” “We need to stop saying thank you.” You giggled, and he agreed with a laugh. Right now, he was wearing the same sort of clothes as yesterday. Surprisingly well dressed for someone who lived in an abandoned building. A beige turtleneck and a beige blazer, with checkered pants that you were sure others wouldn’t be able to pull off. An idea struck you. “Can I take a picture of you?” you blurted. He cocked an eyebrow at you, “Excuse me?” but you knew he was kidding. “You think you can just take a photo of this?” With a roll of your eyes you pulled the camera from your bag, and Jongdae’s eyes widened for a second. “That thing still works?” he mumbled. You nodded. “It’s a bit beat up, but it works.” 

“Go ahead.” When you lifted the camera, he didn’t really look into it, but he smiled softly. You clicked the button and the shutter snapped, flash lighting up his features. The picture rolled out and you put it in the booklet without looking. “Do you play the piano?” you asked. “Oh yeah, most of us do, Suho and Yixing taught us how to play.” Before you could say more, the cab pulled up in front of you. You gave Kris one last pat on the head and Jongdae one last hug. “Bye.” you whispered it, barely audible. “See you.” he said, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. With a blush on your face you stepped into the car. He probably didn’t mean anything with it. It hadn’t seemed like he’d been flirting with you, but he was more open than Suho had been the first time you met him. You wondered how close they had been when they were younger. They must’ve annoyed each other to some extent, and Jongdae doesn’t seem like the type to laugh at his stupid jokes either. But they would’ve gotten along, you were sure of that. The airport wasn’t that far, about an hour ride in and you were there. Your bag was lighter than it had been when you got there, you didn’t forget anything did you? You hasn’t properly unpacked at Jongdae’s place anyways. Maybe you lost a sweater along the way. It wasn’t another hour until your gate opened and you moved through the crowded airport to find a place to get some cheap coffee. Not that you hated starbucks, but it wasn’t something you could afford right now. You waited somewhere, until the gate opened and you got in line. Another 12 hour flight, lucky you. Maybe you should just buy some snacks on the way, because you had discovered that food on the plane was absolute shit. It tasted disgusting, and the smell alone made you lose your appetite. “y/n!!” someone shouted suddenly, and you turned your head to the direction of the sound. Jongdae was standing at the end of the lane, where people couldn’t cross without a ticket. In his hands he had the blanket, bunched up into a ball. He was panting, cheeks flushed red. People swore angrily at you when you pushed them aside to get out of the long line, to get to him. He was panting. “You forgot this.” he said between breaths while handing you the blanket. For a moment you just stared at it, rubbing your thumbs over the fabric. Thinking. Considering. Then you looked up at him, the sad but also happy look on his face. His hair strewn by the wind. Thinking some more. Considering some more. Maybe a little too much. “Fuck it.” you mumbled and reached an arm around his neck, pulling him down. He gasped when you pressed your lips against his, but relaxed, responded. Your lips moved against each other, slowly, tentatively, testing out. Jongdae’s hand came up to rest at your lower back, pressing you a little closer but not too close. He sighed as you broke the kiss. Before he could ask you why you did that you answered him. “Because you deserve it.” You left him with a smile on his face, and a deeper blush on his cheeks. And hopefully, with a place for love in his heart.

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