Seconds pass away, so is Kai. Minutes are eternal as Luhan weeps his tears away. Luhan stares as the white blanket permanently covers Kai in darkness. Tubes are taken away; beeping sounds suddenly vanish. Eternal tears continue to fall from Kai’s eyes; yet, with darkness burying him, no one sees those tears anymore. No one…not Luhan, not Sehun, not even himself.

Luhan sees an ocean in front of him. Small amount of water on his eyes is actually a deep ocean drowning him while he sees his good friend submerging to its abysmal depth. Too harsh fate is to let him lose such a loving and caring friend. But he thinks, as bad as it may seem, that this loss will somehow result in gain—gain, which means gaining Sehun’s heart that he’s been begging for a lifetime.

Time goes too slow. Every motion is too slow. The doctors leave the room; the nurses leave with Kai’s deathbed. Luhan leaves while Kai is being brought farther and farther away. Luhan is left alone along the melancholic corridor with no one to comfort him, with no arms to lean on.

He waits, waits and waits. The sun already strikes its brightest light outside, yet to him, the world is filled with dark clouds. A nurse approaches him, offering him her extra food, yet he doesn’t accept it because he is so full—full of grief, full of sorrow. Food is in front of him, yet what he sees is poison to engulf him.

He looks at the pellucid window and sees Sehun sleeping soundly. He begs the heaven not to let the man he sees die. He prays to let him survive, and to let Sehun love him as much as he loves Kai. He feels that his prayers will be granted; Sehun has already woken up, and big chance is he’s going to survive. However, he doesn’t think that his prayer of loving him will be granted. How, he questions himself, will Sehun love someone he has completely forgotten? Maybe later, he thinks, that Sehun will be able to remember that he is his friend, or at least, he will be able to remember his name.

Infinite hours crawl as Luhan continues to endure hell in everything he senses. The sun sets, and an hour is waiting before he can touch Sehun again. His heart pounds as he continues to think about what will happen next. Minutes slowly pass, and finally, the nurse calls him, telling that he can visit Sehun once again.

 

He enters the room with his heart pounding as heavy as earlier. A doctor and a nurse are on the corner to observe Sehun’s behaviour. He sits on the chair beside the bed, and just before he speaks to him again, he touches his hand. Sehun is awake, staring at him with a stoic face.

Luhan is about to greet him when Sehun asks him something, “Who are you?”

Luhan gets speechless. The greeting he is about to say has been entirely washed away. He freezes, his muscles being stiffened by the utter confusion Sehun has given him. “Sehun, I was here earlier," he states, looking at Sehun as if wanting him to retract his joking question. Luhan recalls that Sehun loves guffing, thus he claims that the question is a pure, lame joke.  

"Sehun," Luhan speaks, his lips forming a bit of a smile with Sehun's joke-- when in fact, he can feel that it is not. He confirms to him, now removing the tad smile he had. "Yes, I was here earlier." 

"Don't you remember?" Luhan follows. 

Sehun only gazes at his face. 

“I’m Luhan," he introduces. Luhan can't believe the ridiculous thing. It's impossible for Sehun to forget. Sehun has just seen his face hours ago. Luhan asks again, "I’m Luhan, don’t you remember?”

Sehun takes the seconds, giving Luhan terror for every of the clock's tick, for his next response that Luhan can't decipher. 

As much as Luhan wants to keep his eyes dry, it's simply too absurd to maintain. He weeps, and repeats his own name again and again like crazy. “I’m Luhan," and the first teardrop falls on his cheeks. "I'm Luhan, I'm Luhan." Like a broken recorder, he keeps on uttering, voice so shaky. "Sehun, I'm Luhan," and for his next batch of words, it will all be about them.

"We’ve been friends since we were children. We’ve been together for so many years. We’ve been taking care of each other since then until now. I cook for you. I clean the house. I wash our clothes. We do our groceries. I have always taken care of you whenever you're sick. I have fed you when you were too weak." After taking a pause, he resumes. "I'm Luhan. I'm Luhan, I'm your best friend!"

Sehun doesn’t respond.

Luhan's heart falls, scattered pieces on the floor, crimson stains everywhere. "Why are you like this?" he exclaims, although gently so as not to stress Sehun. Completely taken aback, he almost collapses, until he decides to try harder and elaborate things further. “Sehun, please…try to remember. We are living together. Every day, every night, we see each other’s face.”

“Leave.”

Luhan is stabbed with myriad daggers. “Why?" and a sword passes through him. For the next same syllable he will say, another sword is waiting to strike him. "Why?" he repeats. "Why? Sehun, why are you like this?” and a stream of tears flows on him, sharp rocks on the sides wounding him.

“Leave.”

“Why? Why? Don’t do this to me.”

“Leave.”

“I won't leave! Sehun, I love you!" he confesses, unconsciously, until he realizes and his nerves abruptly crash. But he remains steady, because there comes a sudden hope that Sehun will, through those words, find him remarkable and eventually remember him. "I love you. I love you," he instills on him, making sure that every single letter is embedded on his mind. "I love you," he repeats, reassuring that Sehun won't tell him to leave again.

Sehun displays another stare, another blunt face that he has consistently worn since the beginning. It is supposed to be romantic, a phrase that will make a heart jump, a collection of words that will drop a jaw. But none of those appears. Neither of them exists nor shows. His heart is so stable, pumping dreadly, beating unusually normal.

Luhan declares. Now, it is absolutely impossible for Sehun not to remember him, at least from that moment onwards. He gazes at him, expecting for an expression suitable for that point. He waits, but after seconds of confidence and assumption, he starts to lose them. "Sehun," he calls again, now wanting to hear Sehun's feeling directly from him, wanting to hear some sort of irony from the stoicalness he is seeing. "What do you feel now? Can you feel something between us?"

Sehun only stared blankly.

Again, a sword slices Luhan. He wants to bang Sehun another silent 'why are you like this?'

“Leave,” he repeats, and withraws his hand from him.

Luhan grabs his hand back. “No. I won’t leave until you remember me. Now tell me, what’s my name?”

Sehun's pupils do not turn away from Luhan. Luhan is melting with that blank stare.

Luhan's soul drops, getting buried six feet below the ground, or even deeper until hell is reached. He has lost his energy. His strength is drained from persistent replaying of his name. And pretending to think that Sehun is joking around, he still manages to display a smile. A miserable one. “I just told you earlier. I repeated it many times. Now, call me my name…please.” 

Nothing follows afterwards. There is no sound of any ‘Luhan’ in the room, not even a whisper or a murmur.

Luhan's soul drops lower, perhaps now turning to ashes as it has traveled to hell. He tears up even more, water making him blind, only low pixels of white shades of the walls can be seen. He is nearly breaking down, bolos flying and chopping him to death. “Sehun…what’s happening to you?” 

“Kai…" Luhan whispers, still persevering to let him remember. "...Do you remember Kai?”

Sehun closes his eyes and takes a rest, as if everything around him is just air.

“You love him. And he loves you. So much. Don’t you remember him?”

Sehun wants their conversation to have a final period. “Leave.”

“Sehun…you were together last night. You love each other so much. Why did you suddenly forget?”

“You love him so much. You cherish him so much. Why can’t you remember him?” he persists.

“Leave,” Sehun orders in a mutter.

Luhan gathers himself, collects the pieces of him to strengthen himself up. He breathes deeply, until he tells Sehun the painful truth. “Sehun…Kai passed away. He passed away earlier because of the accident. He’s gone, Sehun. He’s gone."

“Leave."

“Sehun, you’re too much!”

“Sehun!”

“Sir,” the nurse gently interrupts. “Please leave the room. The doctor is going to tell you something outside.”

“No…not until he remembers my name!”

“Sir, please…the doctor will tell you something important.”

Luhan has no choice. He slowly moves out, tears flooding his face. 

 

“Mr. Luhan, I’m sorry to tell you our diagnosis for Mr. Oh,” the doctor starts his announcement. “We got the result of his brain examination. Though his injury is not a major one, we found damage on his anterior temporal lobes. His amygdala is greatly damaged.”

“What?” 

“Amygdala is the part of the brain responsible for emotional responses and memories. Damage in the amygdala is associated with Kluver-Bucy syndrome.”

“Kluv…er...”

“Kluver-Bucy syndrome. To confirm if he really has the syndrome, we’ve observed his behaviour for the past hours. First, we’ve observed that he can’t remember anything in the past. We’ve asked him about his name and the people he knows, but he can’t name one. So he has the first symptom, retrograde amnesia. Second, we’ve observed that he can’t remember the things we’ve just told him while we’re observing him. And when you two talked earlier, he forgot your name that you just said. So he has the second symptom, anterograde amnesia, meaning he can’t form new memories. He has both short-term and long-term memory loss.”

The doctor pauses for a while, then continues, “Third, he doesn’t respond to stimuli. We’ve presented him things that usually provoke fear and other emotions, yet he didn’t react to anything at all. And if you notice earlier when you two talked, he always had a neutral expression and a monotonous voice. He has the third symptom, absence of emotions. He will have diminished emotional response, or at the worst case, he may not be able to feel any emotion at all. That’s why earlier, he’s insensitive with his words. He doesn’t know that his words can hurt others. He will not be able to control his words. Sometimes, he may say good things, and sometimes, bad things. He will not be able to distinguish their difference. He can also have very limited words to say since he has no reaction to stimuli.”

“Lastly, we observed that he has associative visual agnosia and prosopagnosia. Meaning, he can’t recognize faces of people and objects around him. Earlier, we presented him different objects like scissors, shoes, phone, and tissue. We asked him what those were and he couldn’t answer. We let him read words but he couldn't. He also couldn’t recognize our faces."

"So with those symptoms, we diagnose him with Kluver-Bucy syndrome.”

Luhan stares, his red eyes fixed at the doctor's white coat, maybe trying to erase the deep black clouds on his sight. Kluver...Kluver...Kluver... His eyes turn into a lake, an overflowing lake that is about to flood everything.

“I know it’s hard on you,” the doctor says, patting Luhan's shoulder, “but you have to be strong, Mr. Luhan. The situation will be really hard.”

Luhan hardly gathers himself. Sehun has Kluver...Kluver... His world collapses, and he is only able to utter words after a long while. “What…am I going to…do?” 

“You have to take care of him very well. There’s no cure to his syndrome. We can’t fix the damage on his brain. Actually, it’s a very rare syndrome to humans. This is the first case of the syndrome in Korea. What we can only do is to provide support to his condition.”

--

 

A dreadful day passes. Another sun lightens up the hospital, yet its walls restrain the light to shine on Luhan’s world. Melancholy continues to cloud him as he waits for Sehun to wake up in the room. Luhan was not able to sleep; his eyes remain open for two consecutive days. 

Luhan sits straight on the chair the moment he sees Sehun wake up. He puts on a smile, a feigned, grieving stretch of lips, to brighten up Sehun’s mood. At that time, stupidly, he forgets that Sehun can’t feel anything anymore.

“Good morning, Sehun!” he greets him, tone pitching from high to mournful low for every syllable. 'Good morning' is quite a beautiful lie. 

Sehun looks straight, apathy on every detail of his face. “Who are you?” 

Luhan expects that question. In fact, he is happy, really but not really, that Sehun still bothers to know who he is despite that everlasting stoicalness in him. It hurts-- so much-- introducing himself all over again. “I’m Luhan," he says, dropping tears on a smile. And though it hurts even more telling him his role on Sehun's life, he continues. "I’m your best friend..."

Just best friend. Only best friend, he wants to add. But after moments of reflection, he realizes that he can introduce himself beyond that. Even so, it is not a lie. "...and your lover." 

“I’m here to take care of you. I’ll not leave you here. I’m here to remind you of all the things you forget. I’ll be here to help you on all things you do."

Sehun doesn’t care. In a split second, he forgets all the words Luhan said to him. Zero movement of face muscles, Sehun still had the nothing-face installed in him.

“You’ve been in an accident, Sehun. A part of your brain is damaged. It’s called amyg…uhmm…amyg-something. And because of that, you got Kluv-something syndrome.”

But no matter how much he speaks, Sehun still has the same face. Luhan wants to break down at that point. He wants to flip everything he sees. His chair, the drawers, the table, the bed, and even Sehun. But, he understands him. He understands that no matter how much he talks now, no matter how he forces a joke or narrate fluffy or funny stories, Sehun will not respond.

Luhan just then whispers to himself, Keep calm, Luhan. It’s not Sehun’s fault. It’s that ing Kluv-something’s fault. It’s that ing demonic fate’s fault. It’s never Sehun’s fault, Luhan. Don’t be mad.

 

A man enters the room. “The patient’s breakfast,” he says, then puts the tray of food on the high table beside the bed.

“Sehun, it’s breakfast time. Come, you sit down.” Assisting him to sit, he puts his hand on Sehun’s nape. Sehun obeys; he slowly moves up with the slight pain on his head. He faces the table, thighs hanging on the bed’s edge. He sees things in front of him, and he is clueless about what those are.

For a moment, Luhan forgets that Sehun can’t recognize things. And then he remembers that he needs to name each thing for him.

“This is your food," Luhan states, pointing his index finger on the tray. Grabbing the utensils and putting them on Sehun's hands, he conveys, "This is the spoon, this is the fork." And to be more specific, he names each of the food. “This is the rice, and this is the sausage. If you want to drink, this is the cup of water."

Sehun starts to eat what’s on the plate, while his brain forcefully erases Luhan's words earlier.

He finishes his food. His stomach gets satisfied while he himself remains stolid, not even knowing whether he is satisfied or not. In fact, he will neither be satisfied nor dissatisfied.

“Water,” Sehun softly says, and Luhan hands him the cup.

When Sehun’s done, Luhan waits for some minutes, and then he assists his best friend to lie down again, bed slightly sloped so Sehun will not spew the food he ate.

Sehun embeds his eyes at the ceiling, with no past to reminisce, with no present to ponder about, with no emotion to feel. He is physically alive; but he is actually-- dead.

Luhan looks at him as silence whispers to their ears. He realizes how much fate has destroyed the man he loves the most. He realizes how, at a blink of an eye, destiny can take away everything from a person. It’s too cruel-- that Sehun doesn’t even know how cruel fate is to him. It’s too cruel that Sehun doesn’t even feel sad or worried about his situation. It’s too cruel that fate now deprives him of knowing the essence of life: that is to feel sad in order to feel happy, to feel pain in order to feel pleasure, to feel hurt in order to feel love. It’s too cruel how everything—his memories, his head, his heart---is taken away from him. It’s too cruel…just too cruel.

 

“Sehun, what do you feel right now?” he suddenly asks in spite of knowing how the conversation will go.

 “Do you feel sad, afraid, disappointed?”

Luhan then chuckles at himself. How silly of him to talk to his deaf, mute and dead best friend.

“Sehun, what do you feel, hmm?”

Luhan expects some answer, even if it’s just a nod, a shake in the head, or even just the most absurd answer he can say. Even just a tiny ‘eh’ or a little frown or smile will do. But there’s nothing. Nothing, in reality.

Luhan still tries his best nevertheless, attempting to let Sehun feel something, to bring Sehun back alive.

“Sehun, you must feel sad.” Though he knows how uncomfortable that feeling is, he pursues; because if a person can feel sad, he can feel happy someday, somehow. He may sound harsh, yet it is the appropriate feeling for their situation. “You must be sad, because you’ve lost all your memories, and you can’t have new memories to reminisce in the future."

“You must be sad,” he continues, “because you just lost the person you loved the most.”

Sehun remains silent. In his mind, he doesn’t have any word to say.

“Sehun…you just lost Kai, so you must feel sad. You must cry.”

Sehun stays quiet. Between those seconds, he can only hear the tiny beating of his heart-- his heart that does not exist.

Like an idiot, this stranger is asking him again. Asking about things Sehun can't decently answer. “Sehun…do you remember him? Do you remember how much you love him?”

Luhan just stops and sobs. How torn will Kai be, he thinks, that his most beloved just forgets all the memories they’ve shared together, all the tears they’ve shed together, all the love they’ve had for each other. All those simply vanish away...as Kai too vanishes and dies in Sehun’s heart.

--

 

Five slow days have passed. Sehun gets released from the hospital like nothing happened. Outside, everything he sees is new to his eyes. The streets, the cars, the trees, the posts—everything has to be named before it gets familiar. Even the morning sun and the sky above-- all have to be named for him to remember what those things are.

A hand touches his as he walks along the sidewalk. It is Luhan’s. And though Sehun can’t recognize the man who owns that hand, something in his mind tells him that the touch is familiar. He still can’t remember; he still can’t feel anything. Yet, that touch just seems so familiar.

Sehun gazes at that face as their feet continue to step. “Who are you?” he asks him for the nth time.

“I already told you earlier. Don’t make me repeat again,” the stranger coldly replies, facial expression similar to Sehun's. 

“I’m tired, okay? Don’t spit out that ing question again,” he blasts out, but despite that burning rage, he still holds Sehun's hand.

Sehun keeps quiet. He looks back straight ahead and continues to walk. Luhan stares at him, not knowing if he’ll remain vexed or feel sorry towards his attitude. He knows that whatever vexation he shows, Sehun will not feel hurt or anything and he will just forget afterwards. Yet, he somehow feels guilty with what he has just said. Even if Sehun can’t feel, he still wants to show kindness and affection. He feels so guilty, so guilty that he introduces himself again.

“My name is Luhan. I’m your friend,” then he smiles.

“Luhan’s a very awesome name, right?"

“Right now we’re going home. Don’t let go of my hand so you will not get lost. You can’t recognize anything around you so you might as well lose your way on the street if you go alone.”

 

“Do you remember this building?” Luhan inquires while they stand in front of it, newly painted in flesh with bits of yellow, fixed at the sky with its six storeys.

“This is the building of our apartment. We’ve been here since we left the orphanage. Our apartment is at the fourth floor."

When they reach their tiny abode, Kyungsoo is waiting in front of their door. He is the apartment owner, and he is waiting for them.

“Hello there!” Kyungsoo greets with his round eyes turning into crescent moon, with his waving hand slightly shaking his dainty structure. 

Luhan greets him a good morning, and then he gulps. Kyungsoo then comforts him as if he has read what's on Luhan's mind. “I’m not here to collect rent, Luhan. Don’t worry."

“Oh,” he remarks with a tad relief.

“Here, take this,” Kyungsoo says, offering money.

“Wh…what…uhmm…” he stutters.

“Take this. This will help you.”

“But, sir…”

“Accept it. Don’t be shy. Think of this as your reward for being good tenants here. This amount is nothing to me.”

“Sir, thank you,” and he accepts it. “We’ll surely pay you back.”

“No need. That’s your reward.”

“And by the way,” Kyungsoo interrupts the short silence, “Sehun can just be a cleaner here in the apartment. You too can join him. I think it will be practical if he’ll not go far away so you can keep an eye on him. Don’t worry, the motel owner is my friend. I’ll ask him to let the cleaner here and Sehun to just interchange. Is that good?”

“Really sir?” Luhan beams, his tired eyes turning crescent.

“And no need to pay rent. I’ll just cut of your salary for it. Is that good?”

Luhan gladly nods, and before Kyungsoo turns around, he expresses his gratitude.

Sehun fixes his eyes on Kyungsoo as Kyungsoo walks away. Kyungsoo is new to his eyes, another stranger roaming around. 

“Bye sir,” Luhan bids farewell. He counts the money in his hand and he drops a jaw, because that is more than half of the hospital bill. "Whoa!" Luhan grins, and then shows them to Sehun. "Sehun, look! We can now pay our debt at the bank!" 

And there comes silence and Sehun's irises lasing on Luhan's hands. Just those and nothing else. No smile, no chuckles, no jumps.

Luhan's grin is washed away. There are no laughs anymore along that corridor. There are no hands poking him anymore, no tickles at his back while he unlocks the door, no shouting of “say hello to my cute idiot best friend Luhan!” No asking of “where will we stroll on tomorrow?” and “are we going to have milktea?”

There is just him and the living corpse standing beside. 

That apartment will never be the same again.

 

“Home, sweet home,” Luhan mumbles the moment they enter their place. “Sehun, this is our house. This is where we live."

Sehun stands before the door and looks around. The small place seems familiar, yet his eyes tell him that he has never seen it before.

Here they are again. In their tiny place being lightened up by a single bulb, dim enough not to emphasize how ragged the objects are-- wooden cabinet with a slanted door on the left, worn and torn mini-sofa on the right, faded green fridge on the corner. Luhan mops the floor, fast enough to remove the accumulated dusts for the shortest possible time. He spreads the comforter, putting the pillow on top. “Come here. Lie down and rest."

Sehun follows. As he walks to the comforter, he gets a little dizzy, feeling a slight pain on his wound. The pain can be handled at home now, or Luhan supposes so, because another second in the hospital means another dollar.

Luhan is thankful, because besides from being out of the hospital, Sehun can feel pain. Sehun can feel. Physical pain, at least. 

Sehun sits on the foam, and just before he lies down, Luhan is reminded of something. “Oh, change your clothes first,” then he picks clothes for him at the cabinet. “Here, wear these. This is the shirt, this is the pajamas.”

Sehun removes his clothes, wears the shirt and pajamas on Luhan’s hand. Luhan picks up his dirty clothes, throwing them at the corner. “Come. Lie down,” he assists.

Sehun lies down, stares blankly at the white ceiling, and then touches the small bandage on his right temple.

"That's a bandage. Do you want to remove it?"

Sehun doesn’t answer, but Luhan thinks it’s time to remove it. He’s curious about what his wound looks like now, expecting that it will look a lot better than before. So Luhan starts with the tip, gently removing the adhesive, until Sehun's cut is revealed. And yes, it looks a lot better now, no blood dropping anymore after the bandage is removed. Sehun feels a tiny pain on it, so he remarks a little 'ah' with a poker face. 

Luhan drops a tear. That 'ah' sounds so different now. If he was still the Sehun before, he would say that complaining 'ah' with a bright grin. Even though it was seriously painful, he would shout 'ah' accompanied with a laugh. Luhan remembers when they were still children. He would pour antiseptic on Sehun's wound, and Sehun would chuckle as if he was not in pain. Even until they've grown up, whenever he was treating Sehun's cut, Sehun would chortle, and would suddenly tickle him on the sides that the cut he just treated would crack open again.

Thinking of those memories makes Luhan miss Sehun so much, because the person in front of him now is not Sehun anymore. This is a robot, having the physical features of the man he loves. A mechanical clone. A living dead.

Sehun is dead. Sehun is truly dead. Luhan keeps on reminding himself that. This man is not Sehun. He is not the man I love. Sehun is dead.

But seeing those eyes staring at him, feeling that gentle heartbeat of his, hearing that low voice talking to him sometimes-- Luhan realizes...that Sehun is alive.

So Luhan whispers to him, because Sehun can hear him, because Sehun can listen. "Sehun, I miss your smile."

Luhan pauses. And like a moron, he waits for Sehun to show a smile. He lets the clock tick, hoping that for its every tiny sound, Sehun will gradually display a smile. "Can you show me a smile?" 

Sehun's eyes remain fixed at the ceiling. He has heard Luhan's voice, but the words just scratch out. He knows the meaning of each-- can, you, show, me, a, and smile-- but he does not care. He simply doesn't, thus he sleeps. Sehun lets Luhan whisper all he wants while he will be there, sound asleep. 

Luhan silently sobs so he will not disturb him. “That’s right. Close your eyes and rest for a while,” he comforts, though in fact, he wants him to listen. Nevertheless, he continues whispering, muttering the words of his heart.

“When you wake up later, I’ll teach you how to smile," he talks with the air. "If you’d forget, I’d teach you again."

Luhan expects a response. He waits for Sehun to open his eyes. He lets the seconds pass, hoping for an 'okay'. But Sehun sleeps, settles on the black sight within, not letting Luhan get what he wants.

Thus Luhan proceeds, and every time he wants Sehun to reply, he pauses.

“I miss your laugh. Later, I’ll teach you how to laugh. It’s okay if it’s not real...as long as I hear you laugh again.”

And here he goes, an idiot waiting for a response. Despite realizing how impossible a reply is, he still pursues. And he will not allow this chance to simply pass. He'll not permit this to go away without confessing to Sehun. 

“Sehun," he mumbles, confidently, "I love you."

How easy must it have been for Luhan, because Sehun is sleeping, and even if he hears, he will forget. It is the second time that Luhan has confessed, and it will be followed by another, and another, and another. And for Luhan's comfort, all those confessions will simply be washed away. How easy. And how miserable. 

“I love you more than just a friend.”

“You’re sleeping, right? That’s good. You won’t know that I just confessed to you.”

“Anyway, even before you became like this, you never felt how deep my love for you is…because you keep on loving Kai.”

“But now is my turn. It’s my turn for you to love me. After so many years of waiting, at last, it’s now my turn.”

“Sehun…can you love me?” 

“Sehun, can you feel love for me? You don’t need to feel other else...just love for me. Sehun…can you love me?”

He again waits for the answer, albeit the hushed breeze tells him not to. Only mum gives the guff and nothing else. Tears fall from him, because even before he asked, he knows Sehun will not answer, and he knows that no is the answer.

“Okay,” Luhan mumbles. “I know you can’t. You can’t because you're sick. Not because you can’t really love me, but because you're sick.”

“You know what,” he mutters, “I can still be happy if it’s only memories that you lose. I can still be happy if you forget me every single day...because at least, you can feel my love for you...and you can love me back. It’s only memories that you lose...but not your heart.”

“But look what happens,” he continues, voice rickety, “Even your heart is taken away. If you lose your heart, what remains? Can you live without a heart?”

“You’re dead, Sehun. You’re actually dead. You can’t feel happy. You can’t feel sad. You can’t feel angry. You can’t feel love. You forget the past. You forget the present. You are nothing, Sehun. You neither have a head...nor a heart.”

“How can you love me now that you’re dead? How can you love me more than a friend if you can’t even love me as a person? How can you feel how much I love you?”

“Maybe a kiss will do?”

So Luhan bows, reaches for Sehun's lips, rosy and soft, and he kisses him. He closes his eyes, lets the doves fly around, hymn a tune of love and forever. He prolongs the kiss, longer than eternity, until he reaches the paradise which he hopes Sehun can reach too.

Sehun's world lightens up, seeing too closely an image of a stranger, feeling a thing unfamiliar to him. He doesn’t get surprised; he doesn’t get excited. He simply stares.

He can feel the kiss, but not the love.

--

 

“Good morning!” Luhan greets Sehun the moment he opens his eyes, and Sehun sits coldly like he didn’t hear a thing. It’s been one long month since he has permanently worn his stoic, pretty ing face; without a trace of smile, frown, or anything. For the nth time, “Who are you?” has been thrown to the undistinguished face sticking to him twenty-four seven. That face, however, unflaggingly displays a smile as that person tries to let him feel warmth and happiness in his freezing and dark world.

One month of pretty wearisome life living with a dead person: congrats to Luhan, he still survives. Days pass as exasperation comes and goes. “I’m Luhan. I’m your best friend...and your lover,” a broken player installed in his mouth utters a sound. “Come with me. It’s time for us to work,” another tape from his lips conveys a message. No breakfast in the morning is a daily routine; money is only for two cups of rice and a sachet of catsup to stain its whiteness in the afternoon. In the evening, they just beg the stars, hoping that those things hanging at the sky will become shining shimmering silvers that can become money at the pawnshop.

“This is the mop. You wipe the floor after I broom it,” he commands along the corridor with dull rays of sunlight. Sehun follows like a robot—an idiotic robot that can’t distinguish objects around. “This is the floor,” Luhan pinpoints at the flat cement that they step on, “in case you don’t know.” Sehun actually waits for someone to tell him that. Despite thirty days of mopping endlessly, he still forgets everything in his surroundings. Anyway, he just starts to wet the floor right after Luhan sweeps every curly dust particles clinging on the tiles.

“We’re done!” Luhan remarks with sweat overflowing. He grabs two hankies, one for himself and one for either the tired corpse or the exhausted robot. “Here, a hanky. Wipe your salty sweat."

Sehun takes it without a shade of gratitude, too unlikely of the Sehun before who was thankful even with the simplest of things.  

“Wanna go outside?” Luhan entices as if Sehun will get enticed. How foolish he is, he thinks again, that he keeps on asking Sehun about things he doesn’t know how to answer.

Sehun truly is a robot; one who has no desire for anything in his wasted life. Luhan then decides that they will go outside to let the spring breeze touch their skin, and for them to feel utmost solace. Once again, he forgets that Sehun can’t feel the pleasure that he had always felt before.

 

“You know what,” Luhan starts to talk as they walk slowly along the sidewalk. “Before, you’re the first one saying that going outside feels good.”

“Do you still remember?” he again utters that thing he has ceaselessly asked.

“How stupid of me to ask you again,” Luhan puts sarcasm in his tone, and hits his own head.

“I’m so stupid to think that you can gain back your memories, that you can feel something again, that you can love me back. I'm so stupid to continue loving a robot, a dead person like you.”

“But who cares? Stupidity leads to happiness. You know what? Even if you don’t love me back, even if I keep talking to a walking tomb, you’re still the person I love the most. Of course you are, because you’re the only one I have in this world. My parents dumped me since I was born, so I have nobody but you. You’re my life.”

“I love you, Sehun. I love you so much. Call me the worst ing idiotic bastard moron, but I still hope that you’ll remember me…and you’ll love me.”

And a dead air comes after that. Sehun looks straight ahead, while Luhan looks up at the sky, squinting while peeking at the sun covered with thick clouds. He then smiles, a sorrowful expansion of lips, because he remembers something.

"Sehun..." He calls him, but Sehun ignores. Despite that, he lingers. "I am the king of sunlight, right?"

The waves are absorbed by Sehun's ears. But Sehun doesn't care. Luhan waits for a smile, or at least a bit of it, yet there's nothing.

Luhan smiles wider as he recalls the years he had with Sehun, and along with that smile are tears that he can't hide. "You had always told me that I am like the sun, because my face is round and my smile is so bright."

"...so you had kept on telling me that I am the king of sunlight. But then you'd add 'dwarf' before that title because I'm smaller than you."

"...and then I'd get mad because you'd keep on teasing me that I'm a dwarf. So I'd hit you on the , then you'd hit me on the head. Then you'd run and I'd chase after you."

"...and then we'd laugh and laugh so hard."

Luhan stops walking, and because Luhan holds him, Sehun does too. "Can we do that now, Sehun?"

Sehun turns his head on the street, watching random things passing by, seeing objects moving around. Those are cars and people, if Sehun cares to know. Luhan moves in front of him, and he puts his hands on Sehun's shoulders.

"I am the king of sunlight," Luhan giggles, "So you must follow my command. Copy my words: 'Whoa! You're really the king of sunlight!'"

But Sehun just takes a step and proceeds on walking.

As Sehun proceeds, Luhan imitates Sehun's low voice, "Whoa! You're really the king of sunlight!" Then he adds, "The dwarf king of sunlight! Ah dwarf!" Then he starts to sing, "Dwarf, dwarf, dwarf..."

Then Luhan hits Sehun on the . And then he grabs Sehun's hand to hit it on his own head. His voice goes back to his own, "Yah, Sehun! Why did you hit me? Grrr!"

Then Luhan imagines that Sehun runs, and that he is there growling, clenching fists and chasing after his best friend.

 

Darkness clouds the sky; it’s night once again. Another day filled of ‘do you remember…?’, nothing, and silence ends. At the comforter, Luhan wraps his arm on Sehun, caresses him under the blanket and kisses him on the forehead. And like every single day, he whispers all things he wants to say.

“Sehun…you know what? I’m so sad, yet I’m so happy. Sad, because you can’t remember or love me; but happy, because you’re still here by my side. Damn fate for letting this happen, yet thank fate for letting us continue to be together.”

And like every single night, Sehun just ignores him. He closes his eyes and shuts down to sleep while Luhan, as stupid as he may seem, keeps on uttering words.

“I’m waiting, Sehun. I’m waiting for the day that you’ll remember me. I’m waiting for the day that you’ll love me. Until we grow old...and even after I die, I’ll wait for that day. I’ll patiently wait for that day.”

--

 

June, July, August...the sunlight dazzles even more, but its king still waits. Waiting for the time that his world will turn bright again. Waiting for Sehun to remember him and love him...even just as a friend again.

September, October, November...the leaves change their colors, while their world remains black. There are sweet apples and delicious pears, huge grapes and fragrant chestnuts, but they can almost buy nothing. This is the season for giving thanks, so Luhan has looked at the sky every night, thanking the heaven because he has Sehun.

 

And then December comes. The snow falls, and it sets their world into a colder one. Outside, there are lights everywhere, dancing colours of rainbow while the stars twinkle on solemn nights. Christmas day comes, and Luhan wakes up so early to prepare his surprise.

Sehun opens his eyes, sits and looks at the moving thing in front of him. It's Luhan, and he has covered his whole body with brown colored paper, and he masks himself with a round cardboard where he has drawn big eyes, round nose, and a wide grin. He has put horns on his head. Luhan has transformed into a reindeer.

So Luhan starts his little concert for Sehun. He sings Exo's Christmas Day (too much out of tune), and he dances to it (really but not really). His costume is ripping, but he is still an amazing performer. There are jumps and hops, glides and snaps, and everything just goes so nice.

The song ends and Luhan removes his mask. He runs to Sehun and beams, "How was it? Awesome, right?" And he knows that Sehun will not reply, thus he swiftly grabs Sehun's hands and let them clap. And then Luhan mimics Sehun again, "Yeah, Lulu! You're so amazing!"

Luhan snickers. "I'm Luhan. I'm your lover."

"I'll stay here with you, forever." Then there is hush. Luhan begins to narrate again, recounting a tale he had lived before.

"You had always done your concerts before. You'd dance in front of me, then I'd clap and clap even if you danced like a monkey."

"...then I'd ask you why you were doing that. And you'd tell me that it was your gift for me. Your gift for me was laughter."

"...so now is my turn to do that. For this special day, that dance is my gift for you."

"...that dance signifies happiness. Happiness is my gift for you. Merry Christmas!"

--

 

January, February, March, and April again. Time is really so fast. But to them, they don’t actually know. To Sehun, time neither runs nor stops. He doesn’t even know if time exists. To Luhan, it’s simply too slow as he continues to wait for Sehun to remember and love him. But it’s also so fast, because he’s just so happy loving Sehun.

It’s the morning of 12 April, 2015. Sunday sunshine strikes Sehun’s twenty-first birthday. Luhan gets a cup of compacted rice and puts it on the mushy paper plate. He pulls the 2 and 1 number candles from its plastic and pricks their stick bottom tips to the cake-looking rice. He puts light on the candles and carries the plate as he sits beside the comforter. He waits for minutes, just burning the candles about a fourth of their length, until Sehun finally wakes up.

“Happy birthday to you..." Luhan sings. When the last tone drops, he greets. "Good morning! Happy 21st birthday, Sehun!” 

Sehun sits and stares at the burning light on top of an unknown object.

“This is a rice cake,” he says. “These are candles. This is number two, this is one. You’re 21 now, so it’s like this.”

“I’m Luhan. I’m your best friend and I love you.”

“Can you show me a smile, Sehun? It’s your birthday today.”

“Look at me. This is a smile,” Luhan demonstrates. “You move your muscles on the two sides of your mouth. You extend your lips to your cheeks.”

Sehun disobeys, so Luhan puts his hands on Sehun's lips to expand them upwards. "There," he remarks, "my Sehun is smiling again."

“Now, I want you to laugh,” he says, removing his hands from him. “This is a laugh: hahaha,” he demonstrates. “When you laugh, you open your mouth as big as this,” and he moves his jaws downward. “Then, you make a sound like this: hahaha. Make your tone high, so it will sound happy.”

But Sehun does not do it. Thus Luhan copies the timbre of Sehun's guffaw. "Hahahaha!" And he praises him, "Whoa, Sehun! You're laughing again!"

Then Luhan picks the matches and lights up the candles again. “This is a candle. Blow them after you make a wish.”

Sehun stares at the dancing light unflappably. Not an idea of what a wish is appears in his mind. Luhan’s really so forgetful, almost like Sehun, that he forgets that Sehun doesn’t have a single wish.

“I’m really stupid,” Luhan admits. “I forgot that you don’t have any desire in life. I forgot that you are dead,” he utters. “Anyway, I'll just imagine you wishing for something.”

And so Luhan impersonates Sehun. "I wish that I can remember everything. I wish I can love Luhan, even just as a friend again." Then, Luhan blows the candles for Sehun.

 

“Now we will go to drink milktea. After uhm…december…one, two, three, four…After four months, at last! We can drink milktea again!"

"But before that," Luhan interrupts himself. "I will show you something. It's my gift!"

Luhan grabs the blue marker on the side, and then pulls Sehun along with him. They are in front of the right wall, only inches far from the door. "Watch this." 

And Luhan draws on the wall. Smooth tips gliding on the dusts, forming some collection of lines turning into shapes. It has taken minutes, minutes of sadness. "Here," he remarks, looking at the little vandalism he has committed. "This is my gift." 

 

Now they move to their next stop. To the place where Luhan will give Sehun his next gift: milktea. After twice of being able to drink some of it, one sometime in an ordinary weekend and the other last Christmas day, they will once again be able to sip their favourite milktea. They sit on the same place where they sat last Christmas, with the same small cup on the table like they had before.

“Since it’s your birthday, you drink all this. This is milktea. This is the straw. This is where you sip,” he says as he pinpoints.

Sehun sips the milktea. Now, he neither likes nor dislikes it. Nothing…just sipping the drink like tasteless water. Luhan looks at him, imagining that the robot is the Sehun before-- the Sehun before who smiles so wide whenever he drinks milktea, the Sehun before who laughs endlessly when they talk at that table.

Sehun empties the cup. Though Luhan wants to stay, he finds no reason why to. If he cracks a joke, no one will smile back. If he tells a story, no one will eagerly listen. So maybe, just telling info is enough, so that at least, Sehun will know where they’ll go next although he will actually forget after split seconds. “We’ll go to the market. We’ll buy our needed stuffs. Let’s go,” he informs. They stand, not even able to heat up their chairs, and walk to the market nearby.

 

“Sehun, don’t get lost again here, okay?” Luhan tells him as he picks plastics of junk food for their everyday meal.  “Don’t mistake this face to other people,” he says, pointing at his own face.

They walk along the spaces between the huge racks. Luhan looks at everything, yet picks too few because money for them is just too scarce. He holds Sehun’s hand while imagining that they could buy everything they see, even the market itself. But of course it limits with a daydream, so he goes back to reality where things are just too expensive to buy.

A row of frozen meat strikes their eyes at the market’s endmost. The Sehun before will rejoice seeing those even though he can’t buy them, but the Sehun now just stares at those hard flesh without knowing what those are. “Sehun, these are all meat. These are your favourite…before,” Luhan utters.

Sehun doesn’t care at all. He just walks the path where Luhan’s hand takes him.

“Today’s your birthday. Perhaps I should buy a fourth of a kilo? So we can taste meat again after uhmm…one...two…four months. I’ll cook for our dinner date later. Is that good?” a stranger asks him.

Luhan then tells the lady, “A fourth of pork, please.” The lady cuts the big meat and gives fourth of a kilo to him in a cellophane. Luhan lets go of Sehun’s hand for a while to get the meat. He puts his eyes away for a second to thank the lady, and luckily, he still finds Sehun standing beside him. They’re done putting stuffs at their basket and they’re ready to pay at the cashier at the opposite end.

 

The machine utters pointed noises as it scans bars on each item of their basket. Every beep is heavy for Luhan, as usual, because it means money. Anyway, what’s important is that they have the things they need. The cashier tells him the amount and Luhan lets go of Sehun’s hand again to pick bills from his purse. His eyes focus on her money, not knowing that Sehun is not beside him anymore. Foolishly, at that time, his attention goes to whether his money is enough that he forgets to step on Sehun’s foot or cross his arms on him so Sehun can’t go anywhere.

He's too foolish, that once again, he lets Sehun get lost.

 

“Come on, honey,” a random lady has honestly mistaken Sehun as her husband. She grabs his hand without looking at him. She is pretty sure that he’s her husband, because the touch is just the same. 

They walk to the exit and Sehun doesn’t react at all. He is neither confused nor shocked; just the neutral feeling that he always has. He just walks with the pull of the lady.

“Sehun! Sehun! Sehun!” he hears a shout of a man as they walk along the way filled with many people. The voice is familiar; he thinks he has heard that voice before. However, he doesn’t remember who owns that voice, so he continues walking with the same poker face that he has always worn.

Luhan’s heart drops. He leaves all the items, lets go of all his money, scattering them at the counter. He runs, eyes on every bit of detail, searching for Sehun on the huge crowd. 

The lady looks at him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” and she lets go of his hand, “I thought you’re my husband.” She walks back inside while she has left Sehun standing at the door. No idea tells him that he’s lost. He neither feels nervous nor afraid; still the same apathetic mood is what he has.

 

The flow of the people takes Sehun outside. He sees people disperse randomly; cars halt. He can’t recognize where he is. He just looks around stoically. He sees most people crossing the pedestrian lane just straight ahead, so he imitates them like he knows where he’s going.

“Sehun!” he hears that voice again, yet he just starts walking towards the street. When he steps on the lane, the light suddenly turns green, and the cars accelerate. 

“Sehun!” Luhan shouts as he sees him crossing the busy street. He runs as fast he can.

Sehun halts in the middle of the street. He hears loud horns; he sees objects running wild. He turns his head and sees a big thing approaching him. It’s a bus, and it’s swiftly running towards him. His heart doesn’t beat faster; he doesn’t feel shocked. He just stares as it blasts a loud horn.

“Sehun!” Luhan yells, yet Sehun seems not to hear it. Luhan runs even faster. And just as he is able to cover Sehun’s body, the bus hits them, and they’re thrown to the ground.

 

“Sehun, are you okay?” he asks, hugging Sehun while on the ground, tasting metallic liquid while struggling for every letter. As each syllable comes out, a pinch of crimson comes along, creating something similar to a pool on the asphalt. Sehun looks at it, seeming too normal just like water. He sees a stranger again, an unfamiliar face being too near to his sight. There is a red stain on his face as that stranger continues to vomit, and as he watches blood flow quickly from that man's head, he just stares. 

Luhan forces to see things clearly. He blinks his eyes, too slowly as every bit of strength is being snatched away, as he tries to wash the blur away. And as much as he wants to force another syllable, to introduce himself again so Sehun will recall-- everything turns black. 

--

 

Two days have passed and Sehun doesn’t even know. A stranger in white clothes approaches him and tells him that a certain someone has woken up. From his room, the nurse brings him to a place unknown to him.

It’s the ICU, and the machine beeps welcome him along its corridor. They step some and enter a peculiar room. Inside, he hears louder beeping. He sees strange things, yet he doesn’t care at all. He sees a lying person, smiling at him behind his transparent mask. Sehun stares, but he doesn’t smile back. The nurse brings him down on the chair. Right as he sits down, the man tries to reach his hand.

“Hi, Sehun,” he whispers.

Sehun simply stares. He sees the man, having an object covering his head, having something on his face that he can't identify. It's a thick bandage and a plastic mask, if Luhan will describe them. The man's hand extends to him, but he ignores. Sehun makes a gap between seconds, creating silence where only machines can be heard.

The man tears up, forming noise of agony too silent to be heard along with the beeps. “I’m Luhan," and he smiles wider, because after two days, he is able to introduce himself again. He is able to let Sehun hear his name again.

Perhaps this will be the last time he can do that, he thinks. Because as much as he wants to deny, he can feel his muscles breaking, nerves shattering, every bone cracking. He can feel that these are the last moments, his last minutes with Sehun. So he further explains himself, stating another phrase for Sehun to know him better. "I’m your lover.”

Time is running and milliseconds are escaping. Luhan hopes again, prays that Sehun will give a slight spread of lips or just a very little recognition of him. The air in Luhan’s lungs is not enough for him to release his next words, yet as he chases for air, he asks, "can I hold your hand?”

Sehun stares, bluntly just like every single second of the year that has passed. He looks at the shaking object, thin flesh with faint veins extending to him. It's a hand. It's Luhan's hand hoping for his touch. But time passes and he pursues staring, because there is no reason to touch that thing. No reason to grant that request. 

Luhan's request turns into a beg-- a beg in the air that though he does everything to receive an alm, even just the tiniest alm, he ends up having nothing. “Let me hold your hand," he rephrases. But as his hand endures to extend, that hand which has held Sehun for every second, that arm which has caressed Sehun for every tad moment-- it simply loses all its strength, and it just ends up collapsing. 

No time must be wasted, so Luhan proceeds to his next request with his remaining energy, too weak for him to raise even a finger. He whispers, softer than earlier. With the wheezing of oxygen tank and loud beeps of various objects around, Sehun can't even hear him anymore. “Sehun…please cry for me.” 

It is as if Sehun can do that. As if Sehun cares for that petty desire. Luhan waits, as idiotic as he can be, for Sehun to show sadness, a shade of melancholy, a trace of tear. For Sehun to show some gratitude through a sob. For Sehun to show him love through a cry.

But none of those appears. Luhan's time is running, and though his heart restricts him to speak because of all those stabs and pricks, he still forces to do so. Before Luhan drains all his strength, he commands him, consuming all his energy to utter it as loud as he can. "Copy my words: ‘I love you, Luhan.’”

Sehun has heard the command, that tiny 'copy my words' behind the stranger's mask. Sehun looks at him, having nothing on his mind, showing nothing but a straight face.

Sehun disobeys. Because he does not care. Because that man is a just a stranger.

“Please…" The command transforms into another beg-- another beg for nothing. "Please," Luhan repeats, tears welling up, for he can feel that he can only last for seconds. 

Luhan waits for the very slow time. Yet, only silence responds. Only a blurring sight shows. His body gets weaker and weaker. He sees Sehun fainter and fainter. The moment comes when he can’t handle waiting. He can't utter a syllable anymore, so he just imagines himself shouting at Sehun the summary of his life: “I love you, Sehun. I love you very much.”

Luhan closes his eyes, and never opens them again.

--

 

Sehun moves back to his room. He sits on the bed, and stares blankly at the window, seeing nothing but black. There’s neither a trace of sadness nor sorrow…just pure nothingness. A knock strikes his ears, and a stranger in white dress approaches him.

“Hello, Sehun,” the nurse greets him. “Luhan wants to give you this. He wants you to keep it.”

Sehun receives the piece of white paper folded in half. The nurse leaves as he stares at it on his hand. He opens it, seeing shaky of black ink.

“Hi Sehun! I’m Luhan. I’m your lover.

I’m waiting for the day that you’ll remember me...and love me more than a friend.

I’ll wait until forever, because I love you so much.”

Sehun lets the small paper fall on the floor. He lies down and simply sleeps.

--

 

The next morning, Kyungsoo opens the door. It's the apartment, the place where many memories have been made, many smiles and laughs have been shared. 

"This is your apartment," Kyungsoo informs. "As long as the charity gives you allowance, you'll stay here."

Kyungsoo travels around, naming the objects and explaining their functions. "This is the cabinet. This is the fridge. This is the toilet."

After that, he leaves.

Sehun stands alone inside the empty place. He turns his eyes around, looking at the strange objects scattered on the place. He halts turning when he sees something on the right wall, and he stares at that random image for seconds.

The image has two human sticks holding hands, drawn on blue ink. One has a round head, the other has oblong. There are periods for their eyes, italic Ls for their nose, huge crescent moons for their mouths.

Beside the round head is an arrow, pointing to a text written in perfect . This is Luhan tomorrow. Smiling. Laughing. Loving Sehun.

Beside the oblong is another arrow guiding to another set of letters. This is Sehun tomorrow. Smiling. Laughing. Loving Luhan.

"This is my gift," Luhan said. "Our forever."