The Funeral (Reprise)

The next morning, Onew awoke without ‘assistance’ from Eugene, and lay still for a moment in bed, brown hair splayed out across the pillow. The first rays of the sun dappled in through the closed curtain. There was an odd feeling in his gut. He felt alive, he felt content with things despite how strange and complicated and imperfect life was, and he did not feel that he would like it all to go away. Slowly, until it felt comfortable upon his face, genuine and not forced, Onew smiled. It hurt just a little, and for a moment, tears pricked his eyes in sadness for what had happened, the five years that could not be regained, the friendship that had been lost – but also in happiness, because there was now, there was the future, and lost things could be found again.

When he stood and got himself ready for the day, the shadows of the past did not dog his movements. Then he stepped out of his room and went down the stairs to the kitchen, a place he was usually barred from entering. Eugene appeared to be in the midst of beginning his breakfast, reaching up with one hand to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear. He crept up behind her, waited a second, and then he cried, “Good morning!”

Eugene yelped, whirling about with a very large knife in hand from where she’d been chopping up hunks of meat. Onew danced backwards, protecting his delicate bits. Eugene shot him a furious glare, putting down the kitchen implement near murder weapon. “Mr Onew! Don’t you do that again, could’ve taken your eye out and – why are you up so early?”

“I’ve an appointment,” Onew said brightly, reaching around his irate to grab a slice of toast. Eugene stared at him for a long moment as he took a knife and began to butter it, humming to himself as he tucked in. Abruptly, she seized his chin, scrutinizing his face. Onew pinked a little at the fact that she was inches away from him, and turning his face left and right. “Erm…Eugene?”

“You haven’t been taking those strange medicine-things that gave you the hives, have you, Mr Onew?”

“No?”

“Haven’t hit your head on anything coming down the stairs?”

“I don't think so?”

“Haven’t met some nice lady like that Miss Kim down the road, what with her big hair and her nice dresses and all?”

“I assure you, Eugene, you would be the first to know if that happens.”

With an expression of angry bewilderment, Eugene reluctantly let go of his face and said almost a little crossly, “You’re happy, Mr Onew.”

 “Yes, I am.” He said it matter-of-factly. 

She considered this statement for what it was worth. “Odd Eye knows?”

“They do, Eugene. Don’t worry; you won’t need to chase them out again." He smiled at her. "Aren’t you happy, Eugene? I’ve come home now. And I’m not leaving.”

Eugene went slightly red, hands quickly moving to continue her work. “Just checking that it ain’t somethin’ fishy, Lord knows what you get up to Mr Onew, someone’s gotta make sure it’s all right and good,” she said gruffly.

Unable to help himself, he laughed, making her scowl. Considering the fact that she was holding a knife, he decided it would probably be best if he didn’t try and touch her hand, and settled for patting her gently on the head. Eugene snorted, and said rather tartly, “You get those filthy hands off me, Mr Onew, and you sit down