Their fifth meeting was celebrated with the rain falling down from the green, mist-covered skies.

Junjin couldn’t exactly remember the last time he saw rain—though he could say that he was glad he didn’t. The rain was far worse than the green fog. A single drop could burn straight through flesh. A handful could eat away at a whole wall. The rain was so thick and dangerously acidic that it ate away at anything it came into contact with. Junjin generally considered the presence of rain as a bad omen.

Junjin had come to visit Andy—as per his promise—and was about to go home after a few rounds of Monopoly (Andy was quite the shrewd businessman; Junjin learned that fact the very hard way), until he opened the steel door and was greeted by a sight worse than the thick green fogs.

It was raining. It was only a soft drizzle, but Junjin could still hear the sharp hiss as the rain dropped into the pavement and the broken building around them. The ceiling of the outside building protected the doorway, but Junjin wouldn’t have enough protection for him to get home. It was no use, unless Junjin wanted holes through his body, he couldn’t get home. He felt a cold chill run down his spine at the thought of having to stay the night at Andy’s.

“It rained,” Andy mused, having come to Junjin out, “I haven’t seen rain in a while. You won’t be able to go home, will you?”

Junjin immediately recoiled at that. He didn’t like the poorly concealed glee that danced in Andy’s voice. Actually, he didn’t like how Andy was acting after the outburst in general. It was like he did a near one hundred eighty degree change. There was a new aggressiveness to his gestures, his smiles too saccharine sweet, and a whole sense of possessiveness to him that constricted Junjin, as if Andy never wants Junjin to leave.

“So you’ll have to stay for the night, right?” Junjin decided, against his better judgment, to ignore the blatant pleased tone in his voice.

Junjin bit his lip, reluctantly pulling away from the door—his only hope of escape—and letting Andy close it shut. “I guess I have to,” he said begrudgingly, eyes careful not to look straight into Andy’s.

Andy either didn’t care about or was completely oblivious to Junjin’s lackluster attitude, for he quickly filtered out the filthy air (the tang of acid was sharp, even when Junjin was wearing his mask) and excitedly gripped the cuff of Junjin’s sleeve to drag him back to his house. Even when Andy didn’t say a word, it was very much obvious to Junjin that the shorter man was delighted to have Junjin over.

“I have an extra bedroom,” Andy explained, “You can sleep there. It belongs to someone else, but since he’s not here right now, you can use it.”

Junjin nodded solemnly. Even if he was slightly intrigued, he reminded himself to keep his mouth shut and store that information for a later date. Who knows, perhaps that information may come in handy later. Besides, it wouldn’t be like him to just pry into other people’s business.

“It’s been a while since I had someone else stay for the night,” Andy chirped.

Junjin didn’t doubt that. With the condition they had been living in, and the fact that his apartment never showed any signs of life other than Andy was a large hint. Though Junjin could see from the way Andy never touched some of the things lying around in his house—as if they were someone else’s—that there used to be someone else living there. Suddenly Junjin remembered what Andy had told him—of the reason why he chose to stay. Was this mystery person why?

Junjin didn’t have the chance to dwell on it any further when Andy gently shoved him inside his quickly becoming familiar apartment. Andy tore off his gas mask and threw it unceremoniously onto the couch before disappearing down a narrow hallway, making a vague gesture to Junjin that probably meant that he was supposed to follow him.

Junjin followed Andy into a dark room, which was quickly lit up by a small battery-powered lamp. The room was, for lack of a better word, slightly eccentric, and not at all what he would expect to see in an apartment of a person like Andy. There were posters of groups and bands everywhere, and some really old ones that Junjin managed to recognize, framed pictures of dogs (or just one dog) and people hanging off every wall, a large stuffed teddy bear sitting solitarily in a corner, some knick-knacks displayed on a shelf, and a tacky purple bedcover to boot. Whoever lived there must have been quite the character.

Andy chuckled at seeing Junjin’s bewildered expression, “Please excuse the furnishing, the person who lives here has weird taste, you see. We used to have these really gaudy drapes that I insisted he should’ve burned back in our old home.”

Surprisingly, Junjin wasn’t too shocked at the room itself. More accurately, he was shocked at the state that the room was in. It was clean. So immaculately clean that it looked like there wasn’t a single speck of dust in Junjin’s line of vision. It was by far the cleanest part of the apartment that Junjin has seen. It looked so neat, well kept, spotless—completely unused.

“I thought you said someone lives here.”

“Someone does live here,” Andy insisted, “He just hasn’t been home in a while.”

In a very long while, Junjin added in his head. The calendar on top of the bedside table read September, but if Andy was to be trusted, it would have been somewhere in May by then. For Andy to be so invested with someone who was clearly gone and will never come back—it didn’t sit well with Junjin. Not when the thought that the person ran off because of Andy was looming at the back of his mind. The thought sent involuntary shiver down his spine.

“So,” Andy said, shuffling his feet against the rough concrete floor, “do you live with anyone?”

Junjin would have reprimanded Andy for trying to intrude into his personal life, but reasoned that Andy had told him quite a lot of his own life, and a little exchange of his own information wouldn’t really hurt. It wasn’t like he could use said information to threaten Junjin. How could he when Junjin had nothing left to lose other than his own life?

“Not anymore,” Junjin said truthfully, absentmindedly walking around the small expanse of the room. He observed each and every object, trying to imagine what kind of person had lived there. When he looked up to the ceiling, he noticed the glow in the dark stars that were stuck onto the barren white plaster.

“Oh? Mind telling me about it?”

“It’s a long story,” Junjin retorted, picking up a ceramic dog figurine and examining it. It was all to feign nonchalance, to pretend that he really had no interest in sharing a boring story rather than defensively trying to protect himself from the memories of the long-forgotten past. He hoped Andy would be put off from hearing his life story.

“I’ve got all the time in the world,” Andy laughed, settling down on the bed and swinging his legs back and forth in a childish manner, “I don’t mind hearing your story.”

Junjin stiffened momentarily, mentally berating himself for forgetting that they had all the time to kill. “Then I don’t want to tell it.”

“Why not?” There was a hint of dismay and disappointment in Andy’s voice.

“Unlike you, I don’t regard the memories of my roommate with such fondness,” Junjin replied bitterly, settling the figurine back in its place.

“Why then?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“How would you know?”

“I just do!” Junjin snapped.

Andy looked startled, eyes going wide and mouth slightly agape. The surprise was soon replaced by guilt however, as he hung his head low in embarrassment and self-reprimand. Junjin almost regretted snapping at him, yet he knew it was necessary. He needed to draw a line. Andy may have been comfortable and foolish enough to share his life with Junjin, but Junjin was different. He wasn’t comfortable nor was he foolish, if Andy wanted to share his life stories then fine, be his guest, but that didn’t necessarily mean he would do the same.

Several minutes passed by in terse silence, neither making a move to break it. Andy was the first to succumb to the unbearable silence by clearing his throat and apologizing to him. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have pried if you’re uncomfortable. I—I guess I should leave you for a few moments to make yourself at home.” He got up from the bed and was walking towards the door, head still hanging low in shame, “If you need me, I guess I’ll be in the kitchen, I’ll prepare some dinner for you.”

Just as Andy stepped out and was about to close the door, he paused and leveled his gaze to Junjin’s eyes. The look on Andy’s face wasn’t something Junjin had seen on him before, he seemed older, understanding, and so sickeningly sincere that Junjin almost had the urge to wipe it off his face. “If,” he stuttered, “If you ever need to talk about it with anyone, I—I’ll always be here to listen, okay? Just,” he sighed, “just know I’m always willing to listen.” With that, he closed the door shut with a click.

Junjin scoffed, looking away from the door and glaring at the tacky green pattern over the purple covers. Andy had been sincere and was offering to listen in an act of kindness, but Junjin had shunned him away. It was for good reasons, the boy needed to learn that not everyone would be as open and accepting as him, especially in a world like this, and he needed to learn where Junjin draws the line. His past was a particular subject that he didn’t want to partake in.

If it had been simple, if he could have simply said: ‘Oh he was just a guy I met in the company I work in but died in a raid’ then it would have been fine. But it wasn’t that simple. Junjin refused to reduce the person’s role into a simple roommate who had died because of the war, Junjin refused to make him out as just another person who came and went in his life.

He was more than that. He was more than just a guy he shared an apartment room with and—oh god he was more than just simply his friend. He was his best friend, the big brother he never had, the light of his life, the sunshine that brightened his days—he was the love of his life.

The love of his life who came and went like a passing comet.

Like a brief flash of light, lightening up Junjin’s existence before fading away into darkness, as if it was never there.

He was the only thing that made life worth living when everything started to take its turn for the worse. He didn’t want to live in a world without that bright and kind smile, without his well-intended nagging—without his constant presence by his side.

So why did he continue to live?

Simple.

It was because he was a coward.

Even when he was surrounded by death, he still feared it. Even when death loomed over their heads like the hanging green fog, he couldn’t bring himself to embrace it.

He was a coward who couldn’t even take his life to join the one person he truly loved in the afterlife.

Thus Junjin continued to live, and slowly rot in this already dying world. As the world decayed, so did he. As another part of the world died, so did his. His cowardice cost him the one chance where he could finally be free of the binds that bound him to this wretched Earth and cursed him to slowly rot alongside it. He subjected himself to the worst form of death—to endure the long and painful wait until death’s gnarled hands claimed him.

After he left, Junjin’s world crumbled and left him nothing but a shell of his own self.

Yet Andy…

Andy who still smiled and laughed even when he had no one.

Andy who beamed at him like a child when he had to stay.

Andy who still looked so pure and unfazed by the world around them…

It was unfair.

Why was he suffering from his loss, yet Andy was still able to smile through his loneliness?

Why was he the only one who couldn’t smile anymore?

Why was he even bothering to humor the damn kid?

Why couldn’t he just take his food supply and leave and be done with it? Andy didn’t know where he lived, and there were many shelters like Junjin and Andy’s, most were even locked. Andy couldn’t possibly check them all. Junjin could just stay hidden for most of the time and only gather food when necessary.

So why did he even bother to go and chat?

The little voice whispered countless traitorous little things into his ear. He could just leave and never come back when the rain stops, maybe swipe some of his food while he was at it. That will teach him not to trust so easily, you’d teach him a lesson, and you get more supply of food, it’s a win-win situation.

So, why don’t you do it?

Junjin quickly swatted the idea away, flopping uselessly unto the bed, the springs creaking in protest. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to do it. He was scared. He was too afraid to do it. He didn’t want anything to go wrong. He was too afraid—far too afraid of everything going wrong.

Just…why? Why couldn’t he even be brave enough to be cruel to someone else?

For the nth time in his entire life, Junjin cursed his cowardice.

As promised, we delve a little bit more into Junjin's past and psych in this chapter. I'll be crazy busy in the periods between July to October, so hopefully I can get another chapter out before I'm dragged under the tidal waves of school work. Also, funny that I did this chapter while listening to the happiest songs in my playlist ._. Ah well, I've accepted that I'm weird.

Thanks for all of you for reading Salvation up until this point! ^0^/ I'm really happy this story can get this much attention! Thank you all for your support!