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"The distinction between the past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion." - Albert Einstein

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Chapter Four: Fears & Futures

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It took him the full half hour to get to the cafeteria despite being there once before. Seunghyun passed numerous corridors, classroom doors – closed and open, and two long, dark hallways with a forbidden sign and chain blocking the entrance. He didn’t look too long at those places – prohibited as they were – but it still sent a shiver up his spine.

The cafeteria was large with long tables and benches, with food being served along all four walls. Seunghyun flashed his student ID and received his meal before wandering to where he sat last time for breakfast. Youngbae was already there, along with Jiyong and a third person that Seunghyun didn’t recognize. He seemed young and had wide eyes, body resembling more like Jiyong as he was a bit skinny and had short, messy dark hair.

Jiyong jerked his head up from the crook of his arm when Seunghyun sat down across from him and beside Youngbae.

“Hey,” greeted Seunghyun, figuring this was a safe way to start a conversation. Jiyong gave a lazy grin, his hair spilling over his shoulders, dyed that bright pink Seunghyun remembered seeing the first time. What had Daesung said earlier? Pink for you. Seunghyun resisted the urge to reach over and touch the young man’s hair.

“You like it so far?” asked Jiyong.

Seunghyun shrugged. “Everyone’s a bit weird.” He paused and looked at the empty space in front of Jiyong. “Don’t need to eat?”

“Not really. Food’s good but I don’t need it.” Jiyong played with the rings on his fingers but his eyes were still trained on Seunghyun. “Though if you offered to get me something, I wouldn’t mind.” The young man grinned widely – all white teeth and pink lips – and Seunghyun looked at anywhere but the other.

“Right.” He devoured half his meal in the time it took him to think of an appropriate response. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jiyong laughed at him and it made Seunghyun’s ears burn for some reason. He was saved quickly when Youngbae swung an arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, let me introduce you to the fifth of our group.” He gestured towards the skinny kid that Seunghyun had seen earlier sitting beside Jiyong and blinked at him. The kid blinked back and grinned.

“This is Seungri,” announced Youngbae, “and Seungri, this is Seunghyun. Jiyong’s new roommate.”

Seungri cocked his head. “So, are you normal?”

“What?” Seunghyun had a creeping fear that this conversation wasn’t going to go the way he thought it was – normally and without any reference to Kongnamul’s reputation.

“Like, I’m normal, right?” said Seungri, leaning across the table, looking Seunghyun dead in the eye. “I mean – they invited me to this school but I can’t do anything – not like Youngbae and Ji and all these other kids. Annoying, right? And you seem pretty regular – so are you like me? Cause that would be super cool if you were like me. We can be the Seung-normals, or something. I don’t know. What do you think? Hey – hey, you even listening?”

“He’s not, shut up,” said Jiyong, grabbing Seungri by the collar and shoving him into a headlock. “Don’t listen to him.”

Youngbae propped his chin in his hand. “Seungri, you’re just – ah – a late bloomer.”

“So late that its only gonna happen on his deathbed,” replied Jiyong easily over Seungri squawking to get out of the hold.

“I’m normal,” piped up Seunghyun, making Jiyong freeze and Seungri to slip free with a victorious gasp. “Yeah, I’m – like you.”

“Seriously? Awesome.” Seungri held out his hand and shook Seunghyun’s hand. “Welcome to Kongnamul, school of freaks, but we’re here to keep that under control.”

Suddenly, his hand was out of Seungri’s hold and Jiyong’s fingers were wrapped around his palm, nails digging in sharply. Before Seunghyun could even realize what was happening, Jiyong’s mouth was on his wrist and the young man breathed in deep, his skinny chest expanding under the shirt, before he let go of Seunghyun’s hand altogether. Quickly, Seunghyun snatched it back.

“Sure,” said Jiyong, his eyes bright and knowing. “Normal.”

Seunghyun felt his mouth go dry and grabbed frantically for his water bottle in his bag. Lunch ended mercifully soon, Youngbae and Seungri monopolizing Seunghyun’s attention and he was thankful for it. His roommate had too many weird quirks to consider right now. He had two more classes to attend for today – history and art

Seungri was at his side in a heartbeat. “You mentioned history, right? Our prof is great, he knows so much, it’s sort of overwhelming, y’know?”

You’re overwhelming, thought Seunghyun vaguely, but he was interrupted from making a reply when Jiyong curled his hand around his arm.

“Seungri, you have Japanese,” said the young man slowly and began tugging Seunghyun out of the cafeteria. “I’ll take you to history, it’s on my way to singing class.” Quickly, Seunghyun managed a wave to Seungri and Youngbae, and they grinned and waved back, watching as Jiyong had him out into the crowded halls just a few seconds later.

They began their walk – Seunghyun much too aware of the grip on his arm as he was led through the ever present maze that was Kongnamul. Once more, Seunghyun noticed that they passed a restricted area with yellow tape signaling that it was out of bounds. However, they didn’t go far past the corded off hallway – his class was just around the corner.

Jiyong – who has been silent the entire journey – gestured to the door with a shrug. “Here.”

“Thanks,” said Seunghyun, figuring that was a safe enough reply.

The other turned towards him – his hair long and pink, his eyes bright and attentive, and his mouth so very pink that Seunghyun had to cough and focus on the wall over his roommate’s shoulder. “Have you figured it out yet?”

Jiyong’s voice snapped him back to the present. Seunghyun stared, “what?”

With an impatient noise and gesture, Jiyong shook his head. “What am I, genius? What do I do? What’s my status?” He paused. “It’s special, by the way. In case that wasn’t glaringly obvious.”

Somehow, the condescending way that Jiyong dropped his words all over Seunghyun had him irritated. So what if he didn’t know about everything going on? Did anyone? And why was it any of his business as to what Youngbae and Jiyong were? They had their own lives and Seunghyun had his own. His own life, his own past, his own secrets.

“I don’t know,” said Seunghyun sharply. “And I probably won’t until you tell me.”

Jiyong ran a hand through his long hair, letting his fingers disappear in the stream of pink at the end. “You’re not human.” He cocked his head and grinned – all white teeth and flushed lips – and Seunghyun felt his pulse ratchet upwards. “Neither am I, y’know.”

This was not happening. He was not going to spill out his most important secret all over the hallway in front of his history classroom. It was his first day and he wasn’t going to screw this all up for himself, no matter what kind of insistent, attractive roommate barraged him with questions. That erratic, eccentric roommate who might be like Seunghyun, or he might not – and it was too much of a risk to ask outright.

“I’m gonna be late to my class,” tried Seunghyun weakly, edging away to the door.

JIyong gave him a cool stare and curled his mouth in a sneer. “Okay. Till tonight, then.”

With that, he his heel and sped around the corner in all his multi-colored glory, obnoxious backpack and bright pants on. Without thinking, Seunghyun ducked forwards and peeked around the corner to follow where Jiyong was going to go.

Instead of walking straight down the hall like the rest, Jiyong took three strides forward, paused, before facing the taped-off forbidden hallway. Without even a sound, he lifted the tape, ducked underneath, and walked down the hallway, disappearing into the shadows.

The bell rang for beginning of class and Seunghyun was startled back to the fact that he had to go to history. He sped back to the classroom and slipped into the closest empty desk, hopefully unnoticed, and pulled out his notebook.

Jiyong had gone into the forbidden area of the school. That could only mean two things – that Jiyong was an idiot who couldn’t read the signs hanging everywhere to not venture into the forbidden parts of the school. Or: that Jiyong knew and just didn’t care and the fact that he had done it with so much confidence probably meant that today wasn’t his first time.

Nor, realized Seunghyun vaguely as Professor Bi talked on and on about history, would it be the last. Knowing Jiyong – not that Seunghyun really knew him, just sort of had a vague impression of his eccentric roommate – he’d probably keep sneaking around the school when he wasn’t supposed to because he was just curious. There probably wasn’t even a real reason for his actions.

Still, Seunghyun passed the class in distraction, not quite focusing on the calm, deep voice of the teacher keep speaking about the long and often frivolous choices of men in power through the politics of the country. It should’ve been interesting but it just didn’t come up to par with the possibilities of what could lie in that dark hallway.

Seunghyun had a wild and unbound imagination – he thought of possible monsters locked up in the basement of Kongnamul, or maybe it was ghosts, or maybe it was just one of those ‘employees only’ sorts of deal where they stored lots of documents and boxes. Though, why Jiyong would be interested in boxes and paperwork was beyond him.

You don’t really know much of Jiyong anyway, reminded Seunghyun to himself as the bell rang and he packed up his stuff. His history notes were jumbled and messy and not quite useable, but he wondered if he could get them from someone else later.

Stranded once more in the school and wondering where his last class was, Seunghyun was relieved to see Seungri walking through the halls and waved towards him. Seungri grinned and jogged over, “art, right? Same, I’ll show you.”

As they walked, Seungri chatted amicably about whatever occurred to him – particularly dancing and this event that Kongnamul held every year: “it’s sort of a talent show, but it’s more like a giant concert with tons of people performing. There’s singing and dance battles and even the girls' school next door is invited. Some of them are really good, y’know – like really good, they almost beat my favourite last year. Almost. Anyway, are you good? You’re pretty tall and skinny – you could dance, couldn’t you?” Seungri smiled at him expectantly.

“No,” tried Seunghyun, feeling a flush crawl up his neck, and Seungri looked disappointed.

“Really? You have a deep voice though – and this other guy could dance super well, so can you dance?”

“Um,” said Seunghyun, but he was saved with the sight of the art classroom’s door swinging wide open and what he assumed was the teacher giving a cheery wave to Seungri before going back into the class.

“Okay, we have to talk about this later, but seriously – singing and dancing. Oh – right, they have rapping too, okay! Jiyong is really good at that part, y’know – ”

Seunghyun nodded and followed the boy into the classroom which was covered in what looked like children’s fingerpaints and lot of motivational quote posters and some art gallery posters from years ago where they showed some fantastic landscape or sculpture on the glossed paper. The desks were cleared to make space for long tables like in the cafeteria and chairs. Seungri skid into a chair near the middle left and gestured for Seunghyun to sit beside him as he began to engage the kid next to him in conversation.

The teacher stood at the front pulling on an apron. His desk was long and covered in a heavy plastic disguising something that looked lumpy. With flourish, the teacher ripped it off and gave a small cheer at the amount of wet clay displayed on the table.

“Today, we’re going to start on sculptures.” The teacher – who had dark, messy hair and toothy smile – seemed eternally cheerful as the class lined up to get their block of wet clay and various tools.

Seated at his table ten minutes later, Seunghyun stared at his clay and almost had an existential crisis when he couldn’t think of what to make.

“You’re new, yeah?” asked the teacher, who had magically materialized in front of Seunghyun and his lump. Suenghyun looked up and nodded.

“Choi Seunghyun,” he offered.

“I know. My name is Yunho,” replied the man, and gestured to the clay. “Out of ideas, right? Well, what do you like?”

Seunghyun half-shrugged and dragged his fingers through the clay, tearing it apart in half. “Stuffed animals and Andy Warhol posters.”

Yunho cocked his head. “And what do you hate?”

Seunghyun clenched his jaw and ducked his head from Yunho’s cheerful face. Sensing the mood, Yunho immediately backed off. “I only suggested because it’s often cathartic to take something you hate and make it in the shape of something you like, but feel free to do what you like.”

“Thanks,” mumbled Seunghyun, and his hands moved on their own, shaping the clay to what he knew without looking would be. Yunho moved onto Seungri and his friend Junsu beside him, and Seunghyun was stuck with himself and his clay that was quickly taking shape.

Once clean-up was called minutes later, Seungri glanced over next to him. “Junsu said my cat looked like a panda, does it look like a panda?”

Staring at the misshapen thing sitting in the young man’s hands, Seunghyun was inclined to agree. “Sort of. Maybe a koala.”

Affronted, Seungri frowned and glanced at Seunghyun’s creation. “Hey, at least I tried. You made a beach ball.”

Glancing down at the clay in his hands, Seunghyun shrugged – it did look like a beach ball, but with pockmarks and was coloured a sandy colour from the wet clay. The clay would go white when it dried though and that’s what counted.

“You take everything so personally,” laughed Junsu as he gathered his stuff from the table to move it to the end of the classroom to work on it during the next class. “It could be a really cute panda, Seungri.”

“It’s supposed to be a cat,” whined Seungri, following Junsu’s actions to wrap his clay in plastic and label it with his name on a piece of tape. Seunghyun saw Junsu stop at his table and glance down at his own creation.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

Seunghyun tilted his head, “an omen.”

“Oooh,” laughed Junsu, “how mysterious.”

And Suenghyun smiled back, laughing quietly to himself. Why he decided to make that of all things was beyond him. Probably because it was easier that replicating Andy Warhol’s style of soup can labels via sculpting. Still, Yunho’s words stuck with him and he couldn’t wait till he finished it. Maybe he could keep it in his room. It was so barren after all. He’d have to decorate it like he did with his room back home.

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After class, Seungri disappeared somewhere with Junsu in tow and Seunghyun was left for nothing to do for two and a half hours until dinner except go back to his rooms. He supposed he could explore and actually map out Kongnamul in his head, though he was afraid he would get lost forever in the labyrinthine school.

Following the stream of other students around him, he somehow ended back up in the cafeteria. Consulting his map, he frowned and went the opposite direction. He didn’t need food, he just needed to get back to his rooms.

Wandering for minutes, he recognized the hallway he was in – it was the one near his history class. The hallway was deserted and the doors to the classrooms were all closed so Seunghyun had no idea whether any students or teachers were present. He walked slowly down the hall and turned, finding himself in the same place Jiyong was in before he had ducked the tape and disappeared into forbidden territory.

Standing before the taped off corridor, he couldn’t see how it was any different than the other hallways. Admittedly, no lights were on in this hallway and the only light was the sunlight that streamed in through the windows. There were classroom doors – all closed – and the hallways was swept clean, no sign of dust or forgotten things here.

Seunghyun traced his fingers over the tape, feeling the coolness under his fingertips before he heard footsteps approaching. Panicking – what if it was a teacher? Would he get in trouble? Was there something coming out of the hallway? – Seunghyun darted across the hallway and turned the corner where his history class was.

The steps got closer and Seunghyun swallowed, peeping around the corner to see what it would be. Eventually, the steps were loud enough to be nearby, and out of the forbidden hallway appeared the same neon coloured clothes and pink hair that Seunghyun recognized anywhere.

Jiyong looked surreptitiously down both ends of the hallway before ducking under the tape once more and stepping back into public territory of Kongnamul.

He looked perfectly normal, thought Seunghyun. Not a hair untouched on his head and all his clothes and accessories hanging off his pale skin just right. He was just some student who had come out of class, except his class was in some shadowed hallway no one was allowed in.

“Hey,” said Jiyong to the air, surprising Seunghyun until his heart thudded in his throat. Jiyong’s head was tilted back and his lips parted in a breath, “hey. I smell you.” A beat, and then: “Seunghyun.”

The surprise was enough to have Seunghyun stumbling around the corner in full view of his roommate. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to seem casual, as he stuffed the map in his other hand into his pocket. “Hi,” he greeted, proud that his voice was steady.

Jiyong looked at him with those glittering eyes and made a gesture for Seunghyun to come over. “Were you waiting for me? Or did you get lost?”

“Neither.” The lie slipped Seunghyun’s mouth much more easily than he expected. He tried saving face, even as he found himself walking towards Jiyong. “My class just ended near here.”

“Okay,” replied Jiyong, looking unconvinced as his mouth twitched upwards. He was laughing at Seunghyun, the other realized. It made him flush in annoyance.

“Seriously,” Seunghyun insisted.

“Okay.” Jiyong threw up his hands, palms forward and open in a plead of surrender, but the laughter slipped his throat anyway.

“Fine. Whatever,’’ said Seunghyun, unable to really rationalize why some short attractive kid was making him feel so bothered. It’s not like he needed Jiyong’s approval or anything – he was just a roommate and barely a friend at this point.

Jiyong reached forward and curved his hand – now almost familiarly – around Seunghyun’s arm, tagging along with him, the laughter now gone but the smile still playing at the corners of his mouth. “You going back to the room?”

“Yeah, you?”

Jiyong nodded and used the grip on Seungyun’s arm to guide him through the intertwining hallways and corridors of the school. The first few minutes passed in comfortable silence, though Seunghyun can’t get the image of Jiyong in that hallway out of his head. He should ask – but would Jiyong answer? Probably not. The kid was wrapped up in too many eccentricities to really figure him out.

Still. “Was your singing class down that hallway?”

Jiyong glanced at him from the corner of his eye and his face didn’t change. There was a tug and they went up a short flight of stairs. “Yeah,” he finally replied. “It was.”

“Weird place,” remarked Seunghyun, trying desperately to be casual.

The other just hummed under his breath as they entered a long carpeted corridor with elevators at the very end – this place was familiar at least. “Special students are free to go wherever they want in the school, y’know.” Jiyong threw him a side-long glance. “Maybe you should take advantage.”

The elevator door closed around them and suddenly, Seunghyun felt trapped inside with Jiyong, who was looking at him with those wide, attentive eyes again, pinning him to the wall. “I,” stuttered Seunghyun, then tried again. “I’m not like you.”

“No, you’re definitely not,” agreed Jiyong, eyes slit in amusement. “You’re different. And I’d like to know what it is. I can smell it.”

“Well, what are you, then?” snapped back Seunghyun, and the numbers on the elevator were going too slow for his liking.

Suddenly, Jiyong was all up in his face – his stature not as short when he was on his tip toes, staring up into Seunghyun’s face with a toothy smile, both of his hands curling around Seunghyun’s arms, digging his nails in. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Seunghyun tried and failed to breathe.

“Why don’t you take a guess, hm, Seunghyun?”

There were a lot of words in Seunghyun’s head and none of them were okay to say out loud. “I-I don’t know,” he settled with. “I don’t know.”

The elevator doors opened and Jiyong immediately backed off, turning away quickly as he entered the hallway, leaving Seunghyun to collect his thoughts and nerves. When he got out and turned the corner, he saw Jiyong slip into a room that was not their shared dorm. Pausing, Seunghyun noted it was Youngbae’s room but he didn’t pursue it.

Once he got inside his own room, he collapsed on his bed and pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes until he saw stars, giving up on trying to even think. Jiyong was simply the way he was and Seunghyun would probably be better off focusing on anything – everything – else rather than deciphering the codes and clues that Jiyong leaves all over the place, from his clothes to his hair to the hand on Seunghyun’s arm.

Seunghyun felt some exhausted laughter bubble up his throat – so much for a normal school year, huh?

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A/N: another long chapter since I couldn't update last week! Thanks so much for the comments, and - oh gosh - you guys left votes too? That's so kind! More mysteries are coming and going, but I promise answers in the next chapter, honest~ I appreciate anything you guys have to say including constructive criticism. :D