His eyes fluttered open slowly. Instead of the frantic, fever-dream awakening, grabbing desperately to recollect who he was and what was going on and where he was, there was only the calm, contented feeling of ah. I see.

My name is Lee Hyukjae, or Eunhyuk. I was born April 4. I work at SJ Memory Clinic; I’m a doctor specializing in the erasure of troubling memories. The guy looking like he’s about to whack someone’s head in with a videogame console is Kyuhyun, my friend. The guy with the books asking me if I’m okay, don’t worry, everything will be alright now is my friend, Zhou Mi. It’s Friday. I’ve said goodbye to a friend. Hyoyeon is getting married today. I’m probably going to lose my job soon. I wonder if Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun want to have dinner with me? Would it be weird of me to ask? I don’t know any restaurants. Maybe we’ll all end up having ramyun on my floor. Well at least I won’t have to pay…

Sitting up slowly, accepting the offered glass of water from Zhou Mi as always, he turned the cool glass over in his hands, perching on the operating chair. He was aware that everyone in the room was staring at him, so he gave a lopsided grin, and took a nice, long swig. If they were expecting something out of him, well, they’d have to find a new act. Then he watched as the transport team began to take Donghae away, carefully lifting his limp frame out of the operating chair.

Donghae’s face was peaceful, a smile tugging at his lips. He must have been having a beautiful dream. The refrain of the song he’d heard in that other world… Push back your worries for a bit, it’s alright… For a second –

Then he saw the fact that Kyuhyun was carefully standing so as to shield the new code he’d inputted into the computer: enough that nobody around could see, except Eunhyuk. A quiet, but pointed, reassurance. So Eunhyuk smiled softly to himself then, ambling over to where the transport team was attending to Donghae, and said, “Be careful with him, would you?”

Startled at being addressed by him for once, the head officer, a tall, lanky man with bleached blond hair and noticeable eye circles – what was his name? – stammered out a, “Yessir!”

Giving him a two- salute and a wink, Eunhyuk turned over to where Leeteuk was standing, looking absolutely livid. “Lee Hyukjae, explain –”

“I quit,” Eunhyuk said simply. This seemed to stun everyone in the room into silence, staring at him in various stages of shock. Leeteuk gaped. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his company card and dropped it into the table with a very permanent clack. “I’m through with enabling people’s misguided belief that they can make their lives perfect. You lot can try to pretend you’re righteous or something, but you’re no better than plastic surgeons who prey on people’s insecurities to fatten their wallets. A peaceful mind is a good mind is bull, and you know it too. Stop being monsters – tell people what they’re really getting themselves into. Good luck with your lives.”

Leeteuk seemed about to open his mouth to argue with him, but then, to Eunhyuk’s complete amazement, Zhou Mi stood up, and grabbed a cardboard box. “I quit too,” he declared, starting to toss his things into it. He smiled at the bowled-over Eunhyuk, bright as sunbeams. 

Overwhelmed by emotions – and knowing he was tearing up slightly, Eunhyuk stated, “You don’t need to do that, Mi, you need this job –”

“Did you just call me Mi?” Zhou Mi interrupted, grin stretching even wider.

“Um…yes?” Eunhyuk blinked, having done so instinctively. The formal speech that had so bothered Zhou Mi was gone now. So – this was what it was like. Eunhyuk thought he could get used to it.  

“Then I’m pretty damn sure that I don’t want this job anymore,” Zhou Mi told him, pushing up his spectacles, “Also, since we’re using this moment to make big declarations, I’d just like to say Victoria, that I’ve always found you immensely attractive.”  

Victoria’s strangled noise of shock (or possible horror, it was hard to tell), was interrupted by Kyuhyun chucking down his own things onto his desk. “Make that three. I quit,” he said, smirking at Zhou Mi and Eunhyuk, “What? I hate this place, and I’d probably die of boredom if you two weirdos weren’t around to provide entertainment. Also Siwon, I broke your paperweight eight months ago and the one on your desk is a copy.”

“That was a priceless antique from a church in Italy!”

“Whoops.”  

“How did you put up with him for two years?” Eunhyuk muttered to Zhou Mi, trying to conceal the fact that he really wanted to do something completely and utterly embarrassing, like wrap them both up in a bear hug – a trifle difficult considering how skinny he’d gotten – and laugh and sob all over them, for actually bothering to care about him when he had never returned the favour. Because Eunhyuk wasn’t stupid: they would never have quit if it hadn’t been for him. It was an act of solidarity as much as it was about their own dislike for the place.

“Don’t be so ungrateful,” Kyuhyun groused, wagging one of his game consoles at Eunhyuk as he began to pack his own cardboard box.

Stupefied, Eunhyuk blurted, “But I didn’t ask you to!”

“’Course you didn’t. That’s why I quit, stupid,” Kyuhyun said. It took Eunhyuk a moment to catch on that Kyuhyun was actually being nice to him. He wasn’t certain whether to scream or check for a button on the side of Kyuhyun’s neck, so he decided to just roll with it. And squeeze Kyuhyun’s cheek obnoxiously because he needed to get the warm, fuzzy bubbles out of his system somehow. The younger shoved him off with a grumble and a muffled curse, but not before Eunhyuk caught a look of complete relief on his face, directed at him.

Well, that just made the warm, fuzzy bubbles multiply, until Eunhyuk could’ve sworn he was wearing two sweaters. And life, surely, was better with two sweaters rather than one.

As Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun began to shove their things into cardboard boxes, Eunhyuk turned to look over at Leeteuk, still staring at the minor exodus, aghast. “Hey, Park Jungsoo,” he said directly, because he thought it was about time someone didn’t sugar coat their words towards him, “Whatever it is that’s plaguing you, take it from me: smiling and pretending this hellhole is all that matters isn’t going to make you feel complete. I hope you figure that out someday.”

The older man blinked at him slowly, startled by the blunt statement, and Eunhyuk gave him a crooked smile, lifting a hand to the people in the room as a farewell, before turning on his heel to step into his former office. There wasn’t much that he needed to pack away – he scooped up the picture of him, Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun, and vowed that one day they’d take one where his smile was sincere. Then he took his coat and beanie, staring at the blank walls and space. In the end, he really had just been passing through it – there was little to suggest he’d been here. He couldn’t pretend he felt attachment towards it.

After a moment’s thought, he pulled open the drawer of his desk. Lying amongst some unused manila folders and papers, was the memory stick. Reaching out, he picked it up, spinning it slowly between his fingers. This he placed in the pockets of his jeans.

Kyuhyun and Zhou Mi were waiting for him by the door, cardboard boxes of things in their hands, looking chippier than he'd ever seen them. “So, dinner?” Kyuhyun asked, as they began to walk down the corridors. People they passed by stared at them oddly, perturbed by the sight of the cardboard boxes that always signalled a firing spell. He waved at them.  

“Actually,” Eunhyuk said slowly, “There’s a wedding I need to get to. Even though I never said I was coming – I hope I can get there in time. You guys don’t have to –”

“No, I think you need moral support,” Zhou Mi corrected him, making a little rainbow motion with his hands. On anyone else, it would have been sickening, rather than endearing. “Ooh, I’ve always wanted to crash a wedding! This is just like in the movies!”

“Mi, knowing Eunhyuk, there’s no way it’s going to be that dramatic – think more embarrassing,” Kyuhyun chided, smirking at the shorter.

“Hey!” Eunhyuk squawked, shoving Kyuhyun hard towards the wall. Kyuhyun looked momentarily surprised that Eunhyuk had reacted, but then he shrugged his shoulders, accepting it, and flipped Eunhyuk off. Almost like they'd been doing it for years. At that moment, a young man with a rather bewildered-looking smile and a dimple tapped him on the shoulder, from where he’d been poking his head out from behind his door. Eunhyuk started. “Oh, Yixing. Hi. Um… I don’t work here anymore, so…yeah.”

The other man’s smile widened. “Oh, I know that. I was eavesdropping on all that little grand quitting– very rousing,” he said brightly, making the trio eye one another in confusion. Yixing held out a card towards Eunhyuk. “Here.”

“What’s this?” Eunhyuk asked, tilting his head to the side.

“My card,” Yixing explained patiently, “I’m proud of you – I’ve been watching you, not in a creepy way, of course –”

“Oh, what a relief.”    

“And I think you did the right thing,” Yixing continued, ignoring the comment. He gave Eunhyuk a knowing wink, that made him feel slightly unbalanced. But then Yixing smiled once more, and he seemed far less spacey than Eunhyuk had written him off as. It was an understanding smile, and one that suggested the person knew how to keep a secret. “Rome wasn’t built in a day. If you still need to talk about things, or you’ve got something weighing on your mind, or you catch yourself falling back into your old habits, I’m open to listen. Off-the-cuff sort of thing – I just want to help if you need it. You don’t have to think of it as official if that worries you. Just call me, whenever. I'm always ready to help.”

Moved by the offered sentiment, Eunhyuk managed a tiny smile, a little scared to allow the utter relief to spread across his features, because he knew he needed it. “Thanks, Yixing. And I will,” he said softly, meaning it. He accepted the card, sliding it into his pocket.  

Yixing gave a vague little wave. “And don’t worry about Jungsoo and all that – I’m working on him, and you’ve probably given him something to think about. Good luck, Hyukjae. Also, your sweater’s on backwards.”

He gestured at the memory stick visible in Eunhyuk’s pocket, flashing another knowing smile. “Thank you,” Eunhyuk told him.

“Oh, I’m surprised you didn’t notice about the sweater –”

“Wait, no, I mean –”

“Okay, are we done crying salty tears over all this?” Kyuhyun interrupted, grabbed Eunhyuk’s elbow and dragging him towards the glass doors, Zhou Mi following after, “We’ve got a wedding to crash, and we’re burning daylight if we’re taking the train.”

“Kyuhyun, don’t be rude – oh bother!”

“Stop tripping over yourself, Mi.”

“Gotta go!” Eunhyuk cried, laughing and waving as they began to run towards the exit. Pumping both his fists into the air, he felt lighter than he had in ages. Two and a half years he’d spent in this hellhole, and now he was finally free.

As the cold winter air shot through them outside, he turned his head one last time to look at the modern façade, the Space Age chrome and steel design that had intimidated him every morning. Never again would he gloomy get off the bus to totter towards it. He could not say he would miss it. But it had been a part of him, all the same, and it brought him some good, in its own way, even if it was bitter truth still for him to swallow. 

So he gave a tiny, hesitant smile, and he waved, before walking away.

*

By the time they got back to Eunhyuk’s hometown, of a sort, the sky overhead was dark, and thick with stars. Zhou Mi, predictably, could recognize more than a few of them, excitedly pointing them out and informing a bemused Kyuhyun all about each constellation. T