Kyungsoo is a Wanderer. Unlike most of his type, he was not outcast by his people – he ran away from them. He folded all of the belongings he could fit into a backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and kissed his parents goodbye before he walked out their door for the last time.

The only note he left said: I'm off to look for something. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I think I'll know it once I see it. But I'll be back before dawn! Maybe not this dawn, or tomorrow dawn, but some dawn. I love you both!


 

Wanderers tend to travel alone. They prefer it this way; there is no attachment, no bonds to any place, any time. They refrain from friendship, anything to keep them from staying anywhere for too long. To them, they belong nowhere but with themselves.

It's a lonely life, but Kyungsoo thought he would adapt well eventually.

(He tells himself he has as he wraps his arm around a pillow, hugging it close as he falls asleep.)

Weeks pass, and Kyungsoo is ready to leave his tenth destination. His backpack is ready – it's always ready – and his heart is light without restrictions. The sun has yet to rise beyond the horizon, but it's almost there. Kyungsoo leaves nothing behind but a gold sticker pressed to the back of the closet.

It's odd for a Wanderer to leave anything behind; their purpose is to move before they can be remembered. Leaving behind anything, even something as trivial and inconspicuous as a sticker at the back of a closet, is against what they do.

Then again, Kyungsoo's not your everyday Wanderer.

Readjusting the strap on his backpack, he sets off for the train station.

Kyungsoo usually enjoys train rides. They remind him of everything, even if this the ride itself is practically nothing. He feels that in those few hours, with the sounds of the train moving along the track buzzing in his ears, he can see the world he holds between his fingertips. The scenery blurs into a large portrait Kyungsoo wants to hang on his wall when he gets home.

(He forgets that Wanderers don't have homes to go back to.)

This ride is particularly pleasant, passing through the country side. Kyungsoo enjoys it out here, where things are simpler, the people are friendlier, and the lights are less blinding. He thinks he would like to spend a week or two out here someday, discovering himself, or trying to at least.

He's busy in his daydreams when someone clears his throat, bringing him back to reality for a moment. The man – or is it boy? – seems sheepish once Kyungsoo looks at him, shyly gesturing to the seat across from Kyungsoo, where his bag is. "Is that taken?"

Kyungsoo blinks. It takes Kyungsoo a moment to register the question. He takes a moment to look around the cart. When did the train get so crowded? He realizes he has the boy waiting in the aisle awkwardly, crowding with the rest of them, and immediately shakes his head. "Oh, no," he says, leaning over and grabbing his bag to place it on his lap. "Go ahead."

The boy smiles gratefully, excusing himself as he walks past the guests sitting beside Kyungsoo to get to the seat. "Thanks," he murmurs, even though Kyungsoo is already back to staring out the window.

A couple of minutes pass when the boy speaks up again. "Um, sorry to bother you, but is that a Pororo keychain?"

Kyungsoo turns to him slowly. For some reason, it seems like whenever this boy speaks, it's as if he's doing so in some foreign language that Kyungsoo's still learning. "Yeah," he finally answers with a nod. "My, uh, mom got it for me when I was younger."

Another thing about Wanderers: Just as they do not leave anything to be remembered by, they do not take things either. Sentiment is nothing to them. They travel not for memories, but to escape them.

The boy smiles, and Kyungsoo is in awe at how white and perfect his teeth are, and how pink his lips are that frame them. He thinks that he has never seen such a stunning smile in all his travels, and part of him wishes he could take a picture to save it with the rest of his memories.

"That's cute," he chuckles.

Kyungsoo stares.

"I mean, that you kept it – it's not childish or anything, I mean, I didn't mean –"

Kyungsoo cuts him off. "It's fine," he replies with a small smile of his own.

The boy continues smiling, and something inside of Kyungsoo starts to churn. But thinking it's the wheels of the train below, Kyungsoo ignores it and continues looking out the window (and sneaks peeks at the stranger's reflection in it from time to time).

"What are you staring at?" the boy asks an hour later. Kyungsoo glances over, wondering why he keeps talking to him. Most of the time, when he travels, he's seated by quiet businessmen who are too busy on their smartphones to notice the beauty around themselves, who'd rather lose themselves in numbers than the world. "There's nothing out there but fields." It's true – most of the ride passes by plantations or empty land. But Kyungsoo likes it, the feeling of desolation.

(Or so he tells himself.)

"I think there's always something to look at it," Kyungsoo admits softly. "You just have to look for it."

The boy smiles, and Kyungsoo makes sure not to look this time. "Is that why your eyes are so big?"

That makes Kyungsoo turn. "What?" he asks, frowning.

The boy just laughs, though. "Like that. Are you looking for something?" he asks, and Kyungsoo's frown deepens.

"Who are you?" he asks instead. Part of him wonders if this is what he is looking for, but another part of him vehemently denies it, telling him to keep looking instead. To keep wandering. And another part of him wants this boy to go away, to stop asking questions that Kyungsoo can't answer.

"Kim Jongin," the boy replies with a grin.

Kyungsoo nods. The name doesn't mean anything to him, so he just turns back to the window. Maybe this boy is just that – nothing. Nothing but another stranger Kyungsoo passes upon who forgets him the moment they part. It hurts Kyungsoo to think so, but the truth always does.

"What's yours?"

He turns back, still confused. That's not part of the routine; he asks the questions, not the other way around. No one cares for a stranger. "Kyungsoo. Do Kyungsoo," he answers after hesitating, and wishes the boy would stop smiling. He thinks he hasn't met another with a smile as brilliant as this Jongin's.

They get off at the same stop. Kyungsoo wonders if he should stay on, wait for the next one instead, but he realizes this is the last one. It's late, and the trains stop running after ten.

"Are you staying nearby?" Jongin asks, tone friendly. He too only has a backpack on his shoulder.

"I don't know," Kyungsoo admits, shuffling from feet to feet nervously. He's not used to people sticking around. He wonders if it would be rude to just leave. He knows he shouldn't care, but he does. He cares a little too much for a stranger.

"Well, I know a place you can stay," Jongin offers. "It's just down the street."

Kyungsoo frowns, unsure if he should accept the offer.

"It's just a hotel," Jongin assures him. "More like a motel, actually. It's pretty cheap, and they even serve free breakfast in the morning."

The offer of a free meal tomorrow lures him in, not the look on Jongin's face.

The walk is short but saturated with silence that slows down the seconds. Kyungsoo walks quickly despite his shorter legs, but Jongin walks leisurely, hands stuffed in pockets as he breathes in the fresh air. It drives Kyungsoo insane, but he doesn't say anything. No need to be rude to the stranger who's been nothing but kind to him – even if it scares him.

After booking their own rooms respectively, they go their separate ways. Kyungsoo thanks him quietly and nods goodbye, and Jongin replies with a smile.

Kyungsoo falls asleep thinking about perfectly pink lips and pearly whites.

The sun peaks through the curtains as Kyungsoo washes up. He's accustomed to waking up before the sun, almost out of habit. Glancing outside, he takes account of the donut shop across the street, its owner wiping the windows, and of the woman walking her dog. There's a park a block down – he can tell because the green contrasts greatly with the gray of the city – and Kyungsoo thinks he'd like to visit it. Not every city he visits have parks.

By the time he's finished getting ready, it's around 6:45 AM. Breakfast started at 6:30 AM, so he leaves the room. He hopes they have pancakes.

They don't. He settles for eggs and bacon, and a bagel with cream cheese. As he chews, he wonders where he could find pancakes. He doesn't know why he's suddenly craving them, but the only place he can remember that had the best pancakes was home.

He sighs, because it'll be a long time until he goes back.

"Can I sit here?" a familiar voice rings through the relatively silent room. Kyungsoo glances up to meet Jongin's eyes, chews a couple more times, then nods once. Jongin smiles as he takes the seat across from Kyungsoo.

It's quiet aside from the sounds of the coffee maker buzzing and chewing. The only other person in there is a businessman, who, as Kyungsoo would have guessed, is so busy reading whatever on his smartphone that he eats mechanically. Bite, chew, bite, chew. Kyungsoo sighs for the man. If you can't even enjoy eating, what can you enjoy?

"So what are you doing here anyway?" Jongin asks, trying to start conversation. Kyungsoo looks back at him, thinking. He gets this question a lot, from hotel clerks or polite conversationalists on the bus. His answers are generally the same: Just sightseeing or I heard it was nice here this time of the year. Cliched lines that fit any situation.

But when Jongin asks, eyes earnest and voice honest, the lines get stuck in his throat.

"Looking for something," he finally says quietly.

"What are you looking for?"

He hesitates before replying, "I don't know."

"That's okay. I don't know either."

Kyungsoo's eyes widen. He wants to ask Are you a Wanderer too? but Wanderers don't really talk about their roles. They don't really talk at all. So Jongin can't be a Wanderer – he's too friendly and chatty to be.

"I mean, I'm here to dance," Jongin continues, staring out the window as he talks. The light hits his face angelically, and Kyungsoo wonders how anyone can look so good so effortlessly. "I'm supposed to be taking a class here for a week, but I already missed the first day. But aside from that, I really don't know why I'm here."

Kyungsoo frowns. "But didn't you just say you're here to dance?"

Jongin glances at him and spares a small smile. "I guess. But I could've taken this class back home, not hours away where I have to stay at a motel. I guess... I just wanted to explore. Get away, or something like that." He pauses, then turns himself back to Kyungsoo. "Do you know what I mean?"

Kyungsoo actually smiles. "Yeah. Yeah I do." It's nice to know someone knows how he feels. Someone who just wants to see the world, for no reason at all but to just do it.

Jongin's smiles back. The silence that follows is no longer as suffocating.

Jongin excuses himself at breakfast to go to dance class, although he tells Kyungsoo it was nice eating with him. Kyungsoo flushes for reasons he cannot fathom, but tells Jongin he feels the same. It was nice to eat a meal with someone after such a long time of eating alone.

Kyungsoo spends the day walking around. He does visit that park. There are kids playing on the swings, in sandboxes, on trees. Parents watch and talk among themselves, laughing almost as loudly as the children do. Joggers come and go, bikers ring their bells as they pass, and skateboarders roll by soundlessly.

Kyungsoo wishes he could capture this moment forever (but he left his camera in his bag on purpose, his notebook there too).

After spending an hour walking aimlessly in the park, trying to rememorize the childhood he misses so dearly, he starts walking to the donut shop across from the hotel. The owner, an old man who reminds Kyungsoo of his vocal tutor, greets him politely. Kyungsoo smiles and bows before ordering half a dozen. He knows he doesn't need this many donuts, but he can't help but want to help the old man. He leaves with a white bag stained with oil in one hand and a chocolate donut in the other.

He goes back to the park and picks an empty bench to sit on as he eats. There are two kids within his view, playing around on the swings, pushing each other. They look like best friends, one with crazy hair and the other with playful eyes. He's reminded of home, of two boys he met in elementary school, who he called his best friends. He wonders if they miss him. He hopes they do.

But he also knows that Wanderers don't remember or hope to be remembered, so he stuffs those thoughts into the oily paper bag with the rest of his donuts and leaves the park feeling more empty than before.

He returns a little before the sun sets, washing up and changing into a light sweater. He saw a Chinese restaurant just a little way from here, and he plans to have take-out for dinner.

This city is pretty, but it's dull and Kyungsoo would be bored with it already if it weren't for the donut shop across the street and the park down the block (and a boy with a dazzling smile a couple of floors up). He takes out his planner – another thing typical Wanderers don't posses; they act on urge, not on schedules – and counts the days he thinks he'll stay.

Two days at the least, six at the most.

With a sigh, he pushes his planner under his pillow before leaving for dinner alone.

If Jongin looks like an angel, he dances like a devil out to seduce everyone in the room. Kyungsoo has to hide his face when Jongin glances at him halfway through the dance through the mirror, smirking. When break is called, Kyungsoo wants to run the other way when Jongin makes his way towards him.

"How am I?" he asks, grinning.

Kyungsoo scowls, because Jongin obviously knows the answer. "Fine," he mutters.

Jongin fakes a pout. "Only fine? Because the blush on your cheek says otherwise," he says, immediately returning to his devil-like grin.

When Kyungsoo doesn't reply, Jongin laughs. "Aw, come on, I'm just messing with you. Hey, are you hungry? We could grab something nearby." It's almost noon now. Kyungsoo is surprised Jongin can last so long, and is almost envious that he does. That takes dedication.

Kyungsoo's not that hungry, but he remembers the donut shop. He tells Jongin about it, who smiles and says they could go there. It's not a far walk, and they order a dozen to bring back for everyone else. The shop owner gives Kyungsoo an extra donut for free, and Kyungsoo breaks out in a bright smile at that.

(It feels good to be loved in one way or another, Wanderer or not.)

He misses the way Jongin stares at him after that.
 

(He takes his camera with him when they leave together.)

During practice, Kyungsoo wishes he could take photos of Jongin, because he looks like a completely different person when he dances. It's a nice different that Kyungsoo wants to keep in his memory forever – the way he grins, moves, breathes imprinted in his brain.

Afterwards, Jongin lets him take them around. Kyungsoo only really wants to go to the donut shop and park, so they buy a bag of donuts again, Kyungsoo leaves a tip in the tip jar for the shop owner, and they walk to the park together. Jongin picks a fight over Kyungsoo over who gets the donut with sprinkles, and Kyungsoo lets him win just to see him smile.

In the park, Kyungsoo starts taking pictures again. When Jongin isn't looking, he snaps one of him. He smiles as he keeps it, moving on to delete the other ones. Jongin finally notices after he finishes his donut, glancing over to see them.

"Can I see?" he asks brightly.

"No," Kyungsoo replies automatically, turning it off.

"Aw, why not?" Jongin asks with a pout.

"Because," he huffs. Because there are only two pictures on it and one of them is of you but there really shouldn't be any pictures at all.

"Hey, let's take a picture together then."

"No!" Kyungsoo blurts, startling Jongin with his alarm. Taking a photo with him in it is even worse – it's proof that he was there, that he lived in that moment. Wanderers don't like to be reminded (but Kyungsoo is unsure of how he feels himself). "I – uh, want to go play on the swings?"

Jongin blinks. "What?"

Kyungsoo doesn't reply. He doesn't care if he sounds childish – he'd do anything to change the topic. He goes to an empty swing set – the park is relatively empty right now with most kids back at home eating dinner – and sits down, rocking back and forth. He almost falls forward when Jongin pushes him.

"Hey!" he protests.

"What?" Jongin asks, laughing. "This is how it works. Someone pushes you."

Kyungsoo frowns. He doesn't remember that. He remembers having to learn to swing by himself, using his legs. He remembers watching his best friends push each other, but having no one to push him. But instead of arguing, he just holds onto the bars and lets Jongin teach him how to fly.



 

It's the fifth day, and Kyungsoo knows he leaves soon. Jongin seems to know too, from the way he takes Kyungsoo's hand as they walk together, from the way his stare lingers. Although they've only known each other for about a week, it's as if their souls are old lovers, found again.

Kyungsoo, the Wanderer, has been quiet these past few days. He's scared, he wants to leave, he wants to forget. Kyungsoo, the boy, has been loud with joy. He's alive, he wants to stay, he wants to remember.

Kyungsoo tries to etch the picture of Jongin smiling, dancing, breathing into his mind forever, to keep once he's gone. It scares him to think that he soon will be.

"If you're looking for something, why do you run before you can ever find it?" Jongin asks that night, demanding to be let into Kyungsoo's room as he packs up. Kyungsoo can't answer him. He sits there on his bed, speechless. He can't bring himself to say anything, even as Jongin sighs, shaking his head and getting up to leave. He watches the younger leave, the words stuck in his throat.

Wanderers don't search; they exist.

Kyungsoo, the Wanderer, forgot what he was looking for. He doesn't know when he stopped searching, but the urge to look was always there, clenching his heart. Kyungsoo, the boy even more lost than before, was still searching for what he set out to find in the first place.

And he found it.

But Kyungsoo, the Wanderer, packs up all of his belongings that night, biting back sobs until he collapses onto his bed.

"I don't want to be alone," Kyungsoo, the boy, chokes out against his pillow, pressing into it to muffle his tears. He's drowning in his own sadness, and there's no one to save him. He wonders if there ever was anyone. Wrapping his arm around the pillow, he cries himself to sleep.

Wanderers are meant to be alone.

Kyungsoo is a Wanderer.

And he is alone.

But he is not meant to be. (Not since the day he met Kim Jongin, the boy with his heart on his sleeve.)

The next morning, Kyungsoo wakes up to a pounding at the door. He knows who it is, knows he shouldn't answer it, knows his bag is packed and ready to go, he needs to go. But he has yet to place a sticker at the back of the closet, yet to say goodbye.

And so he answers the door.

Jongin is standing in front of him, backpack slung over his shoulder. His hair is a mess, and Kyungsoo looks over and sees it's still dark outside. Jongin was trying to beat the sun for him.

"You leave, I go with you." There's nothing to question in his voice, but Kyungsoo has a million things to ask. Why are you doing this? Why can't you let me go? Who are you? Are you what I was – am – looking for?

"Jongin, you can't –"

"I don't care where you run but you're not running away from me."

"I'm–I'm looking for something–"

"Look for it with me."

"But I can't," Kyungsoo says desperately. Why him, why now?

"Yes you can, but you're afraid to because you know you've already found it."

"What are you talking about?" he asks, frowning. There are tears pricking his eyes, but he blinks them back. How can you know what I am looking for when even I don't know?

"Me. I'm what you're looking for," Jongin whispers, pulling him close. Kyungsoo crashes into his chest but doesn't have the heart to move away.

"But I don't – how can you be it?"

"Because I want to be it."

"Y-You do?" Do you love me?

"Yes."

It's an enlightening moment, as if weeks of confusion and blurs clarify and now all he sees are the same pictures of Jongin, Jongin, Jongin. Kyungsoo, the Wanderer, tries to tell him he can go without his discovery, he can still run because this is what he wants. To run and run, and never be found.

But Kyungsoo, the boy, is tired. Kyungsoo, the boy, wants to rest.

And Jongin, his answer, is willing to bring him home.

Kyungsoo usually enjoys train rides, but he enjoys them even more with a warm body beside him and an arm slung around him, holding him safe and sound. He stares out the window, counting the constellations in the midnight sky one by one on his way back home. At this rate, he'll be back before dawn to wake his parents up with his new discovery.

"You know, you don't have to look anymore," Jongin murmurs, breaking his reverie by pressing his lips against Kyungsoo's neck. "I'm here."

Kyungsoo smiles softly, leaning into his embrace. He knows.

Kyungsoo was a Wanderer. Unlike most his type, he could not let go of the world he fell so in love with; the idea of detachment was impossible. So he left gold star stickers at every place he stumbled upon, with the exception of the first and last, which were labeled with red heart stickers instead. He took a little bit of every place with him, too, from a hotel pen to a fallen flower outside. Something to say, hey, I was here, hey, I existed, and I remember it. (so please remember me too.)

He called himself a Wanderer because he didn't know what else to label himself as – perhaps a Searcher instead? For something he didn't know, but yearned for desperately.

("I think that just makes you a human being," Jongin whispers.)

He didn't know if it was understanding, companionship, love, or anything else – but he thought that, if he saw it, if he felt it, he would know it right away. That wasn't the case, though, not with the screaming in his ears from Kyungsoo, the Wanderer, to keep going and never look back. To forget about what he's looking for, to only think about tomorrow and never today or yesterday.

But Kyungsoo, the boy, still survived. He was buried beneath clouds, but he persevered, and when Jongin showed up, he was slowly rescued, piece by piece. A scintilla of hope lived.

When the fog subsided, the first thing he saw was Jongin.

---

a/n:

things i wanna clarify here:
- kyungsoo is not bipolar lmao nor does he have multiple personality disorder. I hope that doesn't... seem like it. he just doesn't know what he means (his significance), because he enjoys wandering, enjoys seeing and experiencing new things, but he – like all humans – likes to be with others, likes to remember. he is a wanderer in that he enjoys traveling, but that's about it. he calls himself a wanderer to give himself a name, something to be rather than just a lost soul by himself. if he can at least call himself a wanderer, he has others to relate to.
- jongin knows about the stickers because he stayed in about four other rooms kyungsoo stayed in – all by chance (fate). but he never peels them away because he understands why they're there. he understands before he even meets kyungsoo.
- kyungsoo leaves home in the summer when he's nineteen by the way. I don't want you guys to think he's still in high school or something OTL young, but not too young. and that's why he's with his parents. yeah. and he goes back before summer ends LMAO

yeah I know this story is more meaningful than you thought I'm sorry my writing doesn't do it justice ;_; there are other small things I try to hint at/do for fun, but yeah, won't list those, or else that'd take the fun from it T_T

all my (sortof)angst involves kyungsoo running away so far ;_; I don't mean for that to happen ugh my next one won't have any running away, I promise.

thanks for reading :) hope you enjoyed!