“I’m sorry.”

This was all Luhan said before he allowed silence to engulf the room. He didn’t know what made him say it. For in his opinion, a mere apology would never be able to undo anything. He couldn’t turn back the clock and try to be a better friend when Yixing needed one the most with the word “sorry”. But being absolutely honest, that was all he could say. Those were the only words he was able to think of because he was truly sorry. He didn’t wish to be forgiven because he didn’t feel worthy of forgiveness. He only wanted Yixing to know that he realized his mistake. That he wasn’t the same person anymore.

With a bland gaze, Luhan watched as Yixing shifted his gaze to the window in this room, completely silent. Seconds passed, but for Luhan each second felt like an hour. Hours of tension and worry. Hours filled with that one question. How would Yixing react?

“You’re an idiot, you know?” The other male said, slowly shifting his gaze back to Luhan. The latter, dumbfounded by the unfitting answer, frowned, but he nodded his head nonetheless. “I know I am, and I’m not expecting you to forgive me or something,” he mumbled.

“I’ve been a selfish idiot. You were a friend that I didn’t deserve. I didn’t want to meet you to become friends again. I only wanted to-” “-Apology accepted,” Yixing cut him off, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips.

“I only wanted to – what?” Luhan stopped mid-sentence and gave the other male a look of absolute confusion. “What did you say?”

Yixing tilted his head a bit. “I’m certain you heard it.”

“Repeat it,” Luhan mumbled, his eyes still wide open.

The other male shook his head, muttering something along the lines of “some things never change” under his breath before he emphasized, “Apology accepted.”

"You accept it?" Luhan was utterly accurate with each word he said, so unbelievable was it to him that he needed an absolute confirmation. 

Yixing sighed. "Yes, idiot."

Then, only then, a knowing look hushed over Luhan's face. His eyes went to their normal size and he pressed his lips together. 

Was this reality? Was this really, actually happening? 

He gripped the blanket and threw it to the side before he stood up, legs weak. And the whole time there was one word, one question echoing in his mind: how? 

How could it be that Yixing accepted his apology? 

Before his mind could even try to comprehend the reason behind that, his legs already brought him to the other male. Reluctantly, uncertain like a child, he reached out to place his hand on Yixing's shoulder. He took a deep breath, and as though he'd gained confidence through that, he gave the other one a squeeze.

"Thank you, man." A smile began spreading across Luhan's lips. "Seriously, thank you."

And slowly, also a smile began tugging on the edges of his lips. He let out a half snort, half chuckle. "It's nothing.”

Silence engulfed them, but for a while none of the two bothered to break it, Luhan’s hand still on Yixing’s shoulder. The former stared at his friend, taking in the sight of Yixing. He had grown, he had lost weight, his face was sharper, but the dimples were still the same. But above all, the kind eyes were still the same.

Somewhere inside, Luhan felt the urge to return to being friends with Yixing. However, he knew better than to actually ask for something so unbelievable. He knew better than to demand for something so unrealistic.

“Xingxing,” Luhan spoke, half joking as he said Yixing’s nickname. The latter’s eyebrow twitched upon hearing it. Despite being a nickname he always hated, hearing it now made him feel nostalgic. Nostalgic in a nice way. “I know we can’t go back to being friends, but I just wanted to tell you … thank you.” Luhan smiled happily. “Thank you for being such a great friend to an idiot like me. The years of our childhood and youth were pretty damn amazing. So just,” Luhan took a deep breath, “thank you.”

Yixing stared at him for a while before he smirked a little bit. “You’re welcome, I guess.” He then let out a sigh. “I agree. It’s difficult, if not impossible, to be like back then. But even if we’re not like before, I still wish you the best.” His gaze grew empty for a few seconds, as though he was lost in his own thoughts. “

“So …” Yixing took a step backward, looking as if ready to leave, when Luhan held him back. “Wait. Since you’ve already come all the way here from Daegu, why not stay a bit longer?”

Yixing blinked a few times. “Um, alright.”

“Just to reminisce the good old times, eh? And tell me about Daegu, about our old friends,” Luhan spoke softly. “Of course only if that’s okay with you,” he added with a little smile.

“It is.” Yixing returned the smile.

Luhan motioned the other male to sit on one of the chairs and he sat down on the chair next to Yixing. “So … how’re you doing?” He asked, feeling a tad awkward about not having a single clue about the other’s life at the moment.

“I’m fine, I guess.” Yixing halted and pondered about his answer a bit. “After high school, I moved to a living community near the university I am attending. I’m studying to be a music teacher and work part-time at a bar. It’s stressful, but hey, it’s what I chose and I’m gonna stick with it.”

Luhan nodded slowly. “I see … but how are you, you know?”

Yixing’s eyes widened a bit before he chuckled. He’d just remembered why Luhan, despite being so oblivious of his surroundings and other people at times, was someone he would gladly befriend again if he were to turn back the clock. Luhan was one of the few people who understood that he made a distinct difference between physical and mental well-being.

Yixing was a very poetic person. One who also suffered from emptiness from time to time. And Luhan had always been one of the few people understood that, who didn’t question that, and distracted Yixing from that emptiness. Luhan had always been a tolerant person. An airhead, too, which often led to him behaving selfishly, but Yixing knew that out of all people he knew, Luhan was the most tolerant.

He smiled. “I am also fine. My lifestyle’s kind of monotone. But unlike before I don’t feel depressed. I … realized emptiness’ just part of my life. Besides, I like the stress,” he breathed out slowly, “it causes me to pay less attention to the emptiness.”

“That’s good to hear then,” Luhan mumbled. “And what about the others? Sehun and Minseok? Do you still keep in touch with them?”

“They’re … I don’t know, to be honest.” Yixing narrowed his eyes as he thought about the others. “I haven’t seen them in a while. Sehun went to study abroad and Minseok … he moved to another city. Everyone’s busy, so we barely get to see each other. After high school, we kinda lost contact with each other,”

Luhan remained silent for several seconds as he processed what he heard. Somehow, he had always thought that the others were still keeping in touch with each other. He’d thought that things were like before between them. Only now he realized that his logic was outdated. Stuck, even. For he wasn’t the only one who changed; who moved on. The others also had their lives and thus also underwent changes. He felt a little childish to have thought that nothing would’ve changed.

“I see,” he then replied, at last.

“How about you? What happened after you left?” Yixing asked.

“Should I cut it short?” Luhan asked back, earning a “no” from the other one. “We have a lot time.”

Luhan then sighed before he took a deep breath. “After I ran away to Seoul, I took every single job I could get my hands on. I worked almost like a retard and saved as much money as possible to have some kind of assurance during the time I’d try to make a living by singing.” He sighed at the memory before continuing with a soft volume, “But before I even had the chance to look for a company to audition at, I fell sick. I didn’t bother to go to a doctor, you know me. But I constantly felt weak and after a few months it became really severe. So I finally went to see a doctor, and then I was diagnosed with leukemia,” Luhan finished with a humorless chuckle. He’d never forget the day he received the news. Never in his whole life.

“And …?” Yixing gave him a worried look, wondering if he felt comfortable enough to continue talking about it, but Luhan only shook his head once he understood. He no longer felt uncomfortable talking about his illness. Too much had it become part of his life already.

“I got hospitalized and the doctors decided to start the treatment immediately. However, after two years of treatment, there was no improvement. No worsening either. I left the hospital for a short while before I noticed my health becoming worse,” Luhan whispered the last part. “And I was hospitalized again. The doctors suggested another kind of treatment, but despite the treatment it became worse. They said I had a very rare case of leukemia and finding the right medicament for the chemotherapy wa