Mars

Kim Minseok / Xiumin Something Better Than Tomorrows [WIP] Goodbye Flower || Intro

Kim Junmyeon / Suho Paris [WIP] Darkness Falls || Dusk

Zhang Yixing / Lay A Change of Season [WIP] Dancing Fools || [1], [2], [3], [4] Trouble Seeking 53/1101 What Fears We Conquer [WIP] Nobody Like You || Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12

Byun Baekhyun [WIP] Let Me Be the Stranger You Know || Part I Stay Up (M) Glorious Keep You Happy ❂ Morning, Noon, & Night ❂ To Me ❂ Medicine ❂ Warmth ❂ Vigilance ❂ 

Kim Jongdae / Chen Like Moonlight Over Water Show Me Your True Colors

Park Chanyeol A Lullaby in Two Parts Ain’t Nobody Can Hold a Candle to You, Babe (M) [WIP] If You Say You Love Me || [1], [2], [3] [WIP] The Choices We Make || Part 1, Part 2

Do Kyungsoo / D.O. pull to open, push to close Better Extraordinary ❂  Interruption

Kim Jongin / Kai Sinner Reciprocal ❂ (M) || 01 , 02 Your Name Sounds Like a Dance I Can Never Forget Apple and Jjangu’s Compendium of Human Care (With Heart) About Parting

Oh Sehun [WIP] Goodbye Flower || Intro

BTS

Jeon Jungkook Remember the Sound

his fingers move in patterns along your body, mapping all your conquered spaces. you can anticipate his moves, the pressure of his fingertips, the way they dig in around your hips and splay against your rib cage. you want to scream that this isn't right. it shouldn't be.

for all the reasons you weren't supposed to love him. for pretending this was something. for the husks of promises he left behind. because he said he'd make you love him again and not that he'd love you back.

yes, once upon a time, you mistook kim kai's black hole for safe orbit.

at last, his hand comes to rest against your chest, that last remaining ocean. he bends down to press his head into his upturned palm.

"forgive me." his voice is wet and whispery. "please, don't go, please please don't go." he clutches your hands and drags them to his lips, prays over them again again again until the words are light enough to sieve through your fingers. air with no substance. but they sink into you like a weight, the reminder heavy and insistent.

it hurts. you quake, and suddenly he is holding you while you cry, through the bucking, the anger. the loneliness that goes on and on.

you feel incandescent. he's crying as if he's hurt. but who did this? who?? you've never loved anyone so much. it's all his fault, so how can you ache for him like this when you're already in such pain? how can you bear it? wanting to stay with him, to break the glass-like distance between your two bodies knowing that the loneliness will persist, will lay with you in his arms, stay there like this, suffocating you even now as you touch.

when you pull away, the gulf between you is already so vast even though you are close enough to kiss him. you see it in his eyes. that he's already registered what's happening. "please..." he says one more time.

you slip away from him, slowly pulling on your clothes. you leave him there on the bed. he watches you leave, red-eyed and immobile. it feels as if the very room is holding its breath. like night encroaching on the sun, the door closes in on him until he is just a sliver, an eye, the corner of a mouth. a possibility.

you shut the door and lock yourself in.

You emerged from your tent and stretched, shaking thoughts of the night away. It had been many years since Raze Yixing had pulled you from that place and into Null House, but you could summon the memories like they were just yesterday. You remembered the first time you saw the ocean and sailed upon it. The wind that rode the waves had smelled cool and briny. Birds had flown over from the end of the earth full of stories in foreign languages. It was your first taste of a new world, and you had craved more ever since.

In quick fashion, you took care of your morning business, packed your saddlebags, dissembled your tent, and threw it in the storage wagon.

You were just elbowing Anskjo to keep him from bloating before you'd properly tightened the girth when Minseok sidled up to you.

“Chop, chop. You're holding the whole company back. We'll never reach the capital at this pace.”

You shot him a sour look after pointedly staring around at all of the pitched tents. “Oh, go make yourself useful and kick down a tent or something.”

Minseok threw his head back and cackled. “You're really not a morning person, are you?”

“I hate you sometimes,” you muttered.

“That's good, because I hate you all the time,” he cheeked right back.  

But he waited patiently, if not more a little more chatty than you would've preferred at this hour, as you finished tightening the girth and began loading up your greatcoat, saddlebags, and other gear.  

According to Minseok, you should be reaching Domynead's capital, Laughei, shortly after the twelfth toll. Palpable excitement crept through the soldiers. The palace had felt it prudent to recall some of the Second Regiment's companies to the capital ahead of peace talks with the envoy en route from the Sevlinian Khaganate. For many soldiers, it would be their first time in Laughei, and they regarded the opportunity with delight rather than the wariness one might expect from a potential clash with a rival country.

You mounted up with a vague anticipation swirling about you, wondering what new stories you would unearth.

The stars governed nearly every facet of life, including which House one belonged to. For the few who didn't know which constellation had blessed their birth, Null House was a refuge.

As the only House unaffiliated with a particular constellation, Null House presided over diplomatic affairs for all the other thirteen Houses. But more than anything else, the auspice of Null House was the discovery and archiving of knowledge.

Raze Yixing taught you everything you needed to know to become a proper Raze in your own right, which... wasn't much, to be fair. Namely to “look for the unknown and the unquestioned.”

It was a simple test. He had taken you into an empty room, sat on the floor, and closed his eyes.

You had stood there blinking before following suit. For an hour. In silence.

Until you finally asked, “So... what are we doing?”

Yixing had cracked open an eye.

“Sitting.”

He closed his eyes again.

“...and what am I doing here?”

At that, Yixing had smiled. “Becoming a Raze, I think.”

You felt your eyebrows draw together in confusion. “That's it?”

He had stood, walking to where you were still seated and placing a hand on your head. He was older than you by about a decade at your best guess. He kept his long hair tied in a ponytail, wore gold-rimmed glasses, and was kinder than almost anyone else you had ever met.

“Never follow anyone blindly, little one. That is the most important lesson I can teach you. You questioned your teacher, even though I hadn't invited it.

“It takes bravery to speak first, and humility to admit ignorance. Keep these qualities, and they shall serve you well in life.” He smiled gently. “Very well done.”

Null House shared its vast knowledge bank through information and goods exchanges. External house members would visit to find counsel, or to be escorted to territories hostile to them by a Raze thanks to their diplomatic immunity. But you sought something more valuable than who was having an affair with who, or what petty inter-House drama was brewing, or even why a riot was fomenting in the south.

You wanted the learn truth of the stars themselves, something miraculously no one seemed to know about despite the ubiquity of them in legends. Your desperation grew so great that it came to the attention of the Zenith of Null House, Grandree, who called you to her office.

“You have stumbled upon one of our greatest oversights,” she said. “We know very little about the stars. But  there is truth in all stories.” Here, she paused, steepling her fingers and staring at you. “Do you know where the best place to hear them is?”

You shook your head.

Her lips stretched in a long, slow smile.

And so you found yourself embedded in the Second Domynead Regiment for the past three years. You'd sit by the dim edge of campfires and feel the impossible gravity of a good story drawing everyone into its orbit. Afterwards, you'd stumble back into your tent and scribble everything you'd heard in a simple leather-bound book gifted to you by Zenith Grandree right before your departure. Even after three years, though, there wasn't much.

There was Liritz, Eight House constellation. Legend had it that Liritz was a renowned thief who stole the queen's prized magic crystal and swallowed it to keep from being caught. But as the days passed, his skin began to glow. Crystal shards grew from his stomach and spread through his body until he could no longer move at all. When the queen's hound found him, she ordered Liritz publicly shattered and the pieces of him distributed to the crowd, so that they may always have light to guard against those foolish enough to try to do them wrong. Eighth House was dedicated to the mastery of defense and illumination.

There was Illu, Eleventh House constellation, the young girl who fell to her death after trying to pluck all the fruit from Sarym, Fourth House constellation, the first peach tree. Eleventh House focused on child-rearing, whereas Fourth House cultivated the land, encouraging more generous harvests.

But you were most interested in the story of the great bull god, Arturus. Creator of the universe who bestowed the blessing of fertility on First House, whose members were regarded as the god's first descendants. It was the only legend you had heard with no known variance—the world had fallen off the back of the great black bull as he rampaged through the sky, tearing holes in the fabric of the universe with his horns.

Whoops echoed through the ranks as Black Gate came into view. The palace had been built on a promontory and the glass from the dome of Heaven's Eye caught and fractured the light like a beacon to the weary soldiers.

But before relief could properly sink into you, Lieutenant Colonel Peng pulled up alongside you. Minseok cast you a sympathetic glance before urging Jinx, his gelding, away to give the two of you space.

LTC Peng had only begrudgingly admitted you to the regiment on Zenith Grandree's request and had held it against you ever since. No matter the work you'd put into learning swordsmanship, ascending from Deimos to Phobos over in just three years, she only barely tolerated your presence. Your encounters with her rarely brought you good tidings.

“You'll be supplementing the Crown Prince's personal guard effective immediately. You'll stay in the Military Ward. Report by seventh bell in the morrow; someone will take you to an audience. Congratulations, you're someone else's problem now.”

And without even waiting for a response, she spurred her mount forward and left you gaping in her dust.

“What the hell,” Minseok complained. “That's not fair. I want to sleep in the Military Ward.”

“And meet the Crown Prince,” you added, just for good measure. You felt a bit as if your stomach had dropped out of your body. A golden egg had just fallen into your lap, but you couldn't help but think it must be rotten inside.

Minseok shrugged. “Eh, don't care about him. But a bed? A bed sounds amazing.”

You snorted. Trust Minseok to have his priorities straight. You'd miss him something fierce in the palace, but you'd rather take that secret to your grave than give him the satisfaction of lording it over you.

You were introduced to the Crown Prince in the audience the next day. His Royal Highness Minhyuk had a benevolent air and an easy laugh, and insisted everyone call him by his given name, which you all had the good sense to ignore.

Four new guards were being added to his retinue: Phobos Lyckenal, Phobos Arhant, Phobos Choi, and yourself, bringing the total to thirteen.

“The same number of Houses,” Prince Minhyuk noted cheerily after a steward had read out your names and Houses. You couldn't help but notice the surprised looks shot your way when Null House followed your name.

The original members of the guard had attended the audience as well, and the Prince introduced them one by one before moving onto his counsel.

“This is Baekhyun, my Royal Advisor.” He indicated a man who had remained off to the side, observing quietly. Baekhyun tipped his head in silent acknowledgment. His sleepy eyes were framed above a dark veil, and nearly buried in his hair were the rough, sawed-off stubs of ivory horns.

You bit down on your lip. A First House Asturian, then. But what had happened to his horns?

“As the newest members of my guard, we will need to evaluate your skillsets. Royal Advisor Baekhyun will be overseeing your training. I've prepared a few tests for all of you,” he glanced back at the old guard, “and Advisor Baekhyun will be reporting his observations to me daily. I look forward to the results.”

After the audience, you shuffled back out of the chamber with the three other new guards, who immediately ran wild with speculation on the Royal Advisor.

“You see that,” they murmured. “He didn't have any horns.”

“Never seen that before.”

“Bet he's some kind of eunuch,” Lyckenal, by far the most boisterous of the lot, proclaimed with a snicker. “Can you believe it? Asturi castrati. Isn't it shameful? He must've taken advantage of the poor Prince's kindness.” He chuckled as Arhant ribbed him playfully with his elbow.

You felt a headache building. Did these people have no wits? The Asturian didn't just become a Royal Advisor by sitting on his thumbs all day. You, at least, didn't want to make an enemy of the man, nor the Prince who had appointed him.

“You sure you have something between your legs, 'Nallie?” you interrupted. “Because I've heard stories...”

The other men laughed while Lyckenal spluttered and turned bright red.

You exhaled a quiet breath, unaware of the eyes on you.

It should have been no great wonder, then, that the two outliers of the Crown Prince's entourage would find themselves drifting into each other's orbit. You hadn't exactly endeared yourself to the others on your first day, and as for him, well, the Crown Prince's personal guard were more than a little nervous about being in the presence of His Highness's Royal Advisor.

You were watching the last of the guard racing up the slope to the practice yard. Prince Minhyuk had commanded that his personal guard be able to complete two hundred squats and two orbits of the yard before the ninth toll or be reassigned. After two months of rigorous training, there were still at least two members were in serious jeopardy of not making it.

“The Crown Prince is kind of an asshole, huh,” you said quietly, pressed up against Baekhyun's shoulder. You felt his gaze drift to yours, his eyes wide over the veil he often wore.

He tilted his head closer to yours.

“Careful,” he whispered. You saw the trace of his smile through the translucent material. “Someone might interpret that as treasonous.”

You fluttered your eyelashes at him. “You wouldn't.”

He laughed, a sound so quiet and precious. “I wouldn't,” he admitted easily.

The words struck you like a premonition and sent a shiver down your spine. And as if he could feel it, he met your gaze, eyes warm and open.

You jolted and instinctively averted your gaze, feeling your ears go hot when you heard him chuckle. He had turned that back around on you too easily, you thought, scowling.

Baekhyun was beautiful in a way that nearly defied description. Silver hair, blue eyes turned sharp with kohl, and a manner that seemed to ingratiate him wherever he went.

He had a natural charm that belied his success as Royal Advisor. You'd seen him turn an ambassador to mush with a fleeting touch and a smile. You'd heard the rumors of Asturi during your time in the regiment.

The Asturi train in the arts of seduction.

I heard they hold massive orgies in First House during lunar eclipses.

My sister has a friend who knows someone in First House and she said they all have make at least one hundred people fall in love with them to ascend above the rank of novice.

But you knew better than to blindly believe in rumors.

Yet, your first impressions of each other weren't very good.

It was clear he hadn't known what to make of you when you sat down next to him at the first training session. He gave you a cool, assessing look before turning away as if to dismiss you. It had immediately irked you. You had wanted to grab his chin and force him to acknowledge you like some recalcitrant child. Luckily, you were a little more civilized than that.

“Don't you have better things to do than watch us spar?”

He was quiet for so long that you had huffed and leaned back on your hands, trying to find a different angle of approach.

“His Royal Highness commanded it.”

“So you're the Royal Highness's dog,” you responded flatly. Shouldn't a Royal Advisor have a little more self-worth that that?  

Evidently, that had been the wrong thing to say.

Baekhyun stood quick as lightning, eyes flashing.

“Do not presume to call me a dog when you're the one who's starlost,” he said while grounding his foot down on yours.

You had bit off an oath and glared angrily at him as he stomped off.

For days afterwards, you had nursed your foul temper and your foot. How dare he call you starlost! Being a member of Null House was more noble than that schoolyard slur.  

It seemed neither of you were in mood to forgive and forget. As soon as either of you were in vicinity, you were butting heads. Things got so bad, your ranking among the cohort dropped to the point you were in danger of being removed from duty.

“Give it a rest,” Phobos Choi had cried out one day back in the Military Ward barracks. “You bruised the man's pride. Publicly. He's an Asturian, for Arturus's sake. Either suck it up or get the hell out.”

You had slunk back to your room, properly chastised by the quietest member of the group. You supposed he had a point. Asturi were known for their pride, and you certainly hadn't been gentle with it...

“What is this.”

You had to bite your tongue. Do not say, 'well, what does it look like, dumbass'. You're here to apologize, you reminded yourself. He is not Minseok.

“It's a pomegranate.”

Baekhyun held it in the palm of his hand, eyes flicking dubiously back and forth between it and you.

You rolled your eyes, grabbed it, and cut it open. “Here.” You popped a seed into your mouth and made a show of swallowing. “See? Harmless.”

If anything, he looked more confused. “And why have you decided to give me a pomegranate of all things?” he had asked slowly.

“Because I'm apologizing, dum--”

You barely managed to cut yourself off.

“I'm apologizing,” you repeated, more gently. “From what little I know about First House, pomegranates are a revered fruit, right? I thought you might like it.”

“I see...”

You watched, a little perplexed, as his face brightened into something almost like mirth.

He took a pomegranate seed and slid it between his lips, grinning.

“I see.”

And so, that first seed cemented the beginning of your friendship.

You hadn't spoken to Baekhyun in over a week. The pending arrival of the Sevlinian delegation had doubled his workload, and the Prince had mercifully pulled him off supervision duty. You caught fleeting glimpses of him as he swept in and out of the Crown Prince's office during your watch, but nothing more than that.

You would see him tonight, though. The delegation had arrived earlier that morning, in time for the lunar eclipse. A great feast was to be held to honor both occasions.

A room close to the Prince's quarters had been set up for you for the duration of the Sevlinian's stay. It was there you returned to prepare for the feast only to find a lady-in-waiting loitering insider the door.

“I'm here to assist you with your washing and attire.”

You had balked, trying to wave her off, but she was insistent. She had drawn a milk bath for you and was merciless in her scrubbing. When you were finally dressed, you felt about ten pounds lighter and bone tired.

All of the Crown Prince's retinue had been ordered to assemble in his office, from where you would proceed together to make your entrance in the Great Hall. You shifted, tugging on your sleeves self-consciously right before the steward announced it was time to depart and opened the doors.

You settled into your ranks around the Prince with an older guardsman, Phobos Oren, walking to your left, habitually scanning ahead for any threats.

“You look good.”

“Stars, you scared me, Baekhyun.” He had sidled up to your other side without you noticing.

You glanced down at your formal uniform. It was black, with simple, but elegant silver detailing. A light blue half-cloak hung from your left shoulder and concealed the ceremonial sword buckled at your hips.

Glancing back up at Baekhyun, you raised an eyebrow. “I'm wearing the exact same thing as all the other guards,” you whispered.

He grinned and leaned so close to you, you felt his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Yes, but you make it look better.”

He walked by your side the whole way to the entrance hall, looking entirely too pleased with himself for rendering you speechless.

The Great Hall was a marvel. Crystals were suspended from the ceiling in great fountains of light. The glass doors had been opened, and a gentle cross-breeze made the reveler's clothes dance along with them. Jewels glimmered from necks, wrists, and chests in riots of color, and everyone wore their finest. The Sevlinians preferred a longer style of dress than the Domyneads, you noticed, though certainly not more modest. Floor-length trousers and skirts with slits up to the hips showcased long legs and smooth skin.  

For most of the night, you were either at the Prince's side or posted by the walls with him squared center in your sight. But finally, your relief shift came up. You scarfed down a few bites of dinner in the kitchen before booking it back up to the main hall, eager to lose yourself in the energy of the crowd and see if you couldn't inspect some of the Sevlinian's up close in person.

You had just re-entered the room when a hand closed around your wrist.

“Someone's in a hurry.”

How you had nearly walked right past Baekhyun, you would never know. He must have changed after the formal dinner, because this was far from the simple black robes of office that he had been wearing before.

Now, he was dressed in a white outer robe that faded to red at the hems. A spray of foliage burst over his left shoulder and down his chest, green and orange, with a singular indigo ronid bloom in the last stages of unfurling. It hung open scandalously at the chest. No inner robe, just pale chest and the golden gleam of a body chain.

“How do I look?” Baekhyun asked, shifting his body so the robe gaped even further open, exactly like he already knew he was being admired. He had foregone the veil this time in favor of a striking line of red drawn from over the bridge of his nose across each cheek.

“Beautiful,” you replied breathlessly without even thinking. Was that even a question? How was he not being smothered in attention? Had he been waiting for you?

Baekhyun's eyes flashed and he pushed away from the wall, gaze intent on you like a predator after its prey.

“You--”

“Sorry, sir, I'll be stealing this one,” Arhant interrupted as he stepped between you. “I'm not gonna spend my relief shift being a wallflower,” he said as pulled you toward the dance floor.

You fell into his chest with relief. He peered down at you in concern.

“Alright there?”

“Can't feel my legs,” you mumbled. You were trembling.

Arhant, good-natured oblivious giant that he was, laughed deeply and clapped your shoulder.

“Don't lock your knees,” he advised. “You could faint like that.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I could.”  

The reprieve was short-lived. Just when you thought you were about to get away with it, Baekhyun appeared right at the moment in the dance you were supposed to change partners.

He took you effortlessly from Arhant in mid-step, guiding you closer with a hand on your lower back. The places where he touched you felt alight with fire. You were light-headed. He was a much better dancer than Arhant.

“Why didn't you invite me for a dance?” he asked. His eyes were playful.

“I couldn't.”

“And why's that.” His voice lowered, going deeper. Softer.

“You're too much for me,” you whispered, closing your eyes against the tears pricking at them. It felt like the words had been sucked from you. Your chest tightened and you let loose a rattling breath. It was overwhelming. He was overwhelming.

His hand tightened around you, and he pulled you closer so that you cheek rested against his chest.

“Thank you for being honest with me, little night. In exchange, shall I tell you a secret? About the Asturi?”

You nodded, feeling his heartbeat echo yours. He was being so gentle.

“In First House, offering a pomegranate means you wish to spend the night together.”

Baekhyun tilted your cheek up and waited until you opened your eyes. Tenderly, he swept away the tears clinging to your eyelashes before leaning in. His lips brushed against your cheek.

“One day, I'd like to share another pomegranate with you.”

There was no sleep for you that night. You spent it frantically scrawling in your journal, desperate to hold onto the feeling of it all just a little longer. To convey the heat and strength of Baekhyun's body against yours, the nervous, sweaty, itchy feeling in your palms, or your breathlessness; the way your heart beat madly and how he glided over the floor, your movements as light as mist off water in his hands and the world closing in so tight that you had forgotten, for the first time, to question anything, to notice anything but him and how you were the only thing reflected in his eyes.

___________________________________________________________ A/N 2: If you’ve made it this far, thank so much you for reading. Thanks are also due to @mel-loves-kdramas​ for putting the event together again this year and managing things so beautifully. 

I’ll be working diligently on finishing up the second part. This world is rather expansive, so I may post a glossary and map for quick references. 

And shout out once again to @nfly5​. I know this fic is not exactly holiday-themed, but I still hope you enjoyed. For all my other readers, I highly encourage you all to go check out their blog; it’s beautiful!

A queerness fell over you, like the day was not quite right. There was a sore on your tongue that you're pretty sure hadn't been there yesterday, a little bump that you could feel as you ate breakfast and any time you ran your tongue along your teeth.  

That sense of oddness followed you throughout the day. You kept scratching between your shoulder blades; an itch had permanently settled there, the sensation uncomfortably like being watched. It was only in the long hours of the afternoon that you finally saw it. That flicker of motion. Every part of you froze, a still image of Recognition. You'd been making quick strides through the press of people on their way home when that familiar shadow jumped out at you. Your breath caught.

The lean figure, the tilt of the head, arms outstretched...

“Lay,” you whispered, an invocation.

You could already feel the warmth of his embrace, the way he'd wrap you up and say “did you miss me?” with that infuriating smile in his voice, knowing full well that you'd missed him terribly. Tears pricked your eyes as you tripped closer to the shadow of him, hardly daring to believe. So it crushed you when you tracked the shadow not to him, but to a lamppost.

Your breath hitched in your throat, clinging stubbornly to the precious moment before it had been expelled from the safety of your lungs into this unknown. You wished you could return, too. Some days, all the way to the beginning, before things got so confusing. Your breath wavered there along with you, uncertain of what to do next.

It was in the midst of this that the most curious thing happened. The shadow stretched out one long foot until it nudged your own shadow, and detached itself from the light post. You stared, watching as it gave your shadow-self a hug. It seemed to look at you, the real you, and tapped its nose before it stretched another foot out and bounded to another shadow.

Startled out of your misery, you gave chase to it through the press of people heading home. The shadow made long, leaping strides, always having to anchor itself against an object. But stuck in the crowd, you soon got hopelessly turned around. The evening drew on, shadows lengthening until they all became the singular darkness that was night.

You'd lost him.

**

That night was long and lonely.

**

“Thank goodness,” you'd breathed. You hadn't dared hope, but it seemed as if luck was on your side. The shadow was waiting for you at the same place right as you got out of work. The same time you'd seen it yesterday. You bent down, determined to get to business before it could shake you off again. Seeing how all these inexplicable things kept happening to you, you'd just have to take it in stride and make them work for you for change, wouldn't you?

“Can you take me to where Lay is?”

It paused as if to consider your words, then jumped to another shadow, beckoning. A smile stole across your face. Maybe embracing the crazy was the way to go after all.

And just like yesterday, you were led into a wild goose chase through the city. Ten thousand steps, twelve thousand steps, more. By the time night fell, you had found yourself outside of a Chinese restaurant a few blocks away from your apartment complex. The smell of roast duck spilled temptingly through the door, the ferocity of your awakened hunger suddenly calling to mind the time.

You'd lost his shadow some time ago, but you felt reinvigorated. Things seemed to be going your way for once—you had a purpose and direction again. Not to mention that an idea had struck somewhere in the restless churn of your feet hitting pavement.

After a hastily scarfed down dinner, you headed to the nearest hardware store. Luckily, they had what you were looking for, and you walked out with your purchase, uncaring if they saw you swipe a few more color samples on your way out.

**

The next time you saw Lay's shadow, you stopped it with a well-timed “hold on,” unsure if it could even hear you. It stayed there curiously, watching as you took out the piece of chalk you had been carrying since yesterday. You squatted on the sidewalk as close to the building as you could get to avoid attention and furtively scribbled something before stuffing the chalk back into your bag.

“Okay. Can you, uh, try to grab that?” you asked awkwardly, pantomiming the motion.

Dark fingers wrapped uncertainly around the pencil you had drawn and it suddenly jerked. Shadow Lay jumped, as surprised as you were to find this worked. The chalk pencil drawing had left a jagged little line like a heartbeat.

“Yes!” you whooped. Thoughts of what you could do with this clamored through your head. “Okay, okay. Try writing. Can you tell me where Lay is? Where you are?”

But instead of writing anything, the shadow stretched away, attaching itself to another shadow.

“Hey, wait!”

You took off running after the errant shadow, following the herky-jerky line it left. You barreled through crosswalks, blazing a trail through the city. Every now and again, you heard a gasp ahead of you and knew that someone had finally caught sight of what you'd been seeing this whole time. A victorious grin painted itself over your mouth.

You chased Shadow Lay through the city past sundown and finally came to the end of the trail. It stopped abruptly a few steps outside your building, the pencil frozen. You sighed. Your shadow had probably dissolved again into the night. At least you wouldn't have to go very far to pick up the trail tomorrow.  

The elevator ride up to your apartment was just long enough for you to decide you'd order tangsuyuk for dinner. The doors opened up and you turned the corner and immediately ran into someone.

“Sorry,” you said stumbling back. And then..

“Kyungsoo?”

He froze, bug-eyed.

“You live here, too?”

“D.O! Come back here you little shit!” A voice echoed down the hallway.

Before you could even turn to glance at Rude Loudmouth, Kyungsoo had wrapped his fingers around your wrist and was sprinting down the opposite end of the hallway and barreling into the emergency stairwell. He was surprisingly strong. You followed after him breathlessly, too focused on feet not tripping over themselves to get a word in edgewise. You heard a door bang open above you, heard the low curse Kyungsoo gave as he sped up.

The staircase spat you out into the back alley, but there was no time for talking. Kyungsoo pulled you along, right back in through the front door of your building. The lobby was empty, but you remained tense, sure someone would appear at any moment.

Kyungsoo, on the other hand, didn't appear to be too bothered. He dragged you over to the elevator and pressed the up button, apparently satisfied that he'd outwitted Loudmouth enough to spare the minute it would take for the elevator to reach the lobby. You didn't protest; your calves were barking up a storm from all the physical activity today.

In the elevator (again), Kyungsoo pressed the button for the floor right below yours.

“So,” you started after you'd caught your breath, “care to share with the class what that was about?”

He glanced at you. He looked very different from how he normally did. Gone were the grandpa clothes in muted, inoffensive colors. He wore a green camo jacket with a stark black shirt with red piping and black pants. His hair had been styled, and... was that a choker? You wouldn't have recognized him as the same person if you hadn't literally run right into him. Even his personality seemed different somehow... more confident.

He dismissed your question with a quiet “you'll see” and turned back to face the door.

You rolled your eyes. At this rate, you'd probably have a heart attack if any of the men in your life actually gave you a straight answer.

When the doors opened, Kyungsoo led you to an apartment door, his hand still comfortably around your wrist. You glanced at the number and realized it must be the apartment literally right below yours. He calmly unlocked it and dropped your hand, walking in without even a glance back like he was certain you'd follow like a puppy.

You frowned but didn't fight your curiosity.

As soon as your eyes adjusted to the gloom of Kyungsoo's apartment, your eyes grew wide. All kinds of electronics lay about—camera equipment and audio equipment and you-didn't-know-what-else kinda equipment. Kyungsoo kept stopping you with a hand held up to disable things.

“Paranoid, much?” you asked with a shaky laugh, wondering if maybe you shouldn't be, too.

“You're not very observant, are you. I told you to come to me if you had any questions.” He shot you a small scowl over his shoulder. “Why'd you take so long? Aren't you supposed to be looking for Lay?”

It took a second for the words to sink in. “I'm sorry, what?”

He ignored you, picking something off the kitchen counter and disappearing through another doorway.

You watched him go dumbly. Lay? How did... You were fairly certain you'd never brought him up. So how...?

“In here,” he called, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Where Suho's apartment had been a minefield in a figurative sense, you couldn't shake the feeling that one wrong step and you'd be blinded by lasers or something. You stepped lightly through the apartment, trying to keep as close to the path that Kyungsoo had taken as you could, and through the door into... the bathroom?

Kyungsoo held a cube in his hand and tipped it carelessly until red liquid poured from one of the corners. More and more liquid spilled forth, an impossible amount, more than could possibly be contained in that little cube. Enough to fill the tub and more without ever emptying.

“You have to return,” he said tersely.

Okay. You saw where this was headed. Straight back into craziness. You could deal with this. You dug your hand into your pocket, squeezing the black blob resting there. It really was a good stress ball.

“What do you mean, return?”

Socks gave you one long look.

“What are the names of your friends?”

You opened your mouth then froze. What? This was such an easy question. You had three best friends back in your hometown. Their names were... they were...

A powerful dizziness overcame you and you staggered to lean against the wall.

“Are you beginning to understand?” Kyungsoo asked gently. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub now, a finger swirling through the water.

You didn't remember their names. You struggled to recall a single thing about them, their faces, but it was like trying to catch vapor.

No...

You couldn't remember their names because--

“They never existed, did they.”

Kyungsoo smiled, still staring into the water.

“You catch on quickly.”

And that was... a staggering statement. Not like your whole world had just shifted with that simple realization. Nope.

“I belong... there?” You pointed at the bathtub. “Is that where Lay is?”

His expression tightened.

“If that's who you're looking for. I think that's something you need to figure out,” he said. He stood up and dusted off his pants. “Are you ready?”

He didn't wait for you to answer. He lifted you right off your feet. You gaped at him as he easily swung you up onto the bathtub ledge, no evidence of even an ounce of strain on his face.

“Oh, um. This is just... a thing I can do,” he explained awkwardly.

“Okay.. yeah... wouldn't be the strangest thing I've heard today,” you said faintly.

“Are you ready?” he asked again.

“No,” you answered honestly. “Couldn't you at least give me a hint of what I'm gonna be facing?”

An apologetic smile tugged at his lips. “I've said more than I should have already.

“I can't just... come back for bath time tomorrow?”

His smile turned more amused.

“'fraid not. That moronic light bulb blew my deep cover. As soon as you're gone, I've gotta scatter.”

“Wait, what?” You clutched his arms tighter. “You're not gonna wait here for me? What if something happens?? What if I get lost?”

He patiently waited for your panicking to subside.

“Trust yourself. This isn't your first time. Your body will know what to do. Just don't overthink it.”

Against your better judgment, the words soothed you. You closed your eyes and nodded.

“Ready?”

“Stop asking me and just do it.”

Kyungsoo had a low, deep laugh that, in other circumstances, you might've found contagious. You held one foot out which dangled precipitously over the redness. “My shoes...” you murmured. Kyungsoo extended his arms and now you were completely at his will. You screwed your eyes shut, waiting for him to just drop you in like a stone. But you felt liquid begin to pool around your feet, to soak into your pants. He kept lowering you in. Even with your eyes shut, you knew that your feet should've easily touched the bottom of the tub by now. They hadn't.

Kyungsoo's grip slid up until he was holding you by your hands. He guided you down slowly. The liquid reached your shoulders, then your chin, and still there was no bottom.

Your eyes opened of their own accord as you took one last desperate inhale before you sank into the forgotten.

“Good luck,” Kyungsoo said just as the water spilled over your face and he let go.

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