Jaejoong fidgets nervously in his seat, his fingers lacing and unlacing on his lap. Even his sister’s hand on his shoulder, usually a source of reassurance and comfort for him, does nothing to soothe his nerves. He grabs the bottle his mother offers him and drinks so quickly he almost chokes on the water, drawing odd looks from the other people sitting around them.

It’s not the end of the world if I don’t get it, he tries telling himself, but the words seem to die away in his mind as quickly as he forms them. No, it won’t be the end, but he’s dreamt of this for so long, wanted this for so long, that it’s hard not to think of extremes if he should fail. When his name is called after what seems like an eternity, he stands up so fast he could swear it gave him vertigo, and hurries through the throng of people to follow the man who called him.

He is led to a room that’s white from the ceiling to the floor, the monotony of it only broken by the steel legs of the table in the front, as well as the three men seated behind the table. There is little pomp and grandeur, he simply gives his name, and in return is given a microphone and told to sing whatever he might desire.

Jaejoong’s struck by confusion, and then almost immediately after that, the beginnings of a panic attack. It would have been one thing to be given a song to sing, something everyone should know like the national anthem or H.O.T’s Candy, but it’s another thing completely to be given the choice. Which song will show off his vocal talents best; which one will be the least likely to get the examiners to stop him early? The possibilities are endless, while Jaejoong is painfully aware the time he has for choosing is limited.

One of the examiners is already tapping his pen on the desk impatiently; there is no longer any time to consider. Jaejoong just opens his mouth and sings.

At first, he’s barely registering the lyrics; all he can focus on is the melody of the song, the rising and dipping notes, and aching pain of the love and loss woven into every note. He doesn’t remember exactly where he first heard this song, all that exists in the current moment is the music and him, a boy, and a haunting melody that made him want to weep the first time he heard it without really knowing why. When he closes his eyes, he can see it; a mysterious shadow of a man, always just beyond his fingertips, just beyond his reach, and he soars higher and higher with the song in an effort to reach it.

It’s with a faint sense of regret that he opens his eyes again, only to find the examiners staring at him with what cannot be described as anything but wonder. Smiling to himself, he bows, and one of the men tells him that he will be notified of the results shortly.

It’s a good sign, he thinks.

-{}-

Yunho sighs internally, nodding his acceptance of his instructor’s criticism. He cannot believe that Changmin managed to talk him into trying to be a singer, but even more than that, he can’t believe that throughout his long life, it never occurred to him to learn to sing. Sure, he’s always been able to carry a tune, but for someone who has so much time on his hands, you’d think he’d have learnt a little more than that. Maybe some breathing exercises or something, but no, so here he is taking advice from a man who’s not even a tenth of Yunho’s actual age. Changmin, the bastard, has already won praise, and is currently sitting in the corner smirking at Yunho’s chastisement.

Yunho’s never forgiven Changmin for Jaejoong, not completely. The shock of his death was so great he could barely even think of Changmin at that time at all, let alone reserve any emotion to feel towards him. As Yoochun’s blood made the seal, so Jaejoong’s blood had broke it, and from the feeling of contentment that Jaejoong was as safe as he could be, Yunho was left with a loss so sudden and acute if hearts could physically break his would have shattered right then and there.

He’d abandoned to fight to rush below deck, just in time to cradle Jaejoong’s dying body in his arms, even his fading breath seemingly tinged with blood. Being a Keeper, he’d long lost his ability to shed tears, and though he mourned every time he lost Jaejoong it had never hurt as much as it did at that moment. Being unable to show his grief by weeping hurt almost as much as Jaejoong leaving him again did.

And so he had thrown his head back and uttered a low cry, so plaintive and sorrowful that from above, all sounds of fighting stopped.

Even Changmin, who had followed him down, had a shocked look on his face. In focusing all his thoughts on the idea that either he or Yunho would win Jaejoong for good, at least in this lifetime, it had never occurred to him that they both could lose him. And seeing Yunho’s pain, and Jaejoong’s fading smile as he looks into Yunho’s eyes, Changmin understands.

It didn’t matter that they would always meet again; each parting would always, always hurt. And it didn’t matter how many lifetimes Yunho had Jaejoong, it would never be enough. Despite the knowledge that Jaejoong at some point in time would always come back, the time spent apart never ceased to hurt. Of course Yunho couldn’t bear to give Jaejoong away, even for one life among many others.

In the face of such overwhelming proof for that, Changmin felt so small.

His joy at being entertained, the feeling of his magic crackling at his fingertips and the Avarian like sparks on his tongue—how alive it had made him feel—it wasn’t worth this. Changmin’s only regret is that he didn’t see it sooner.

With Jaejoong gone, any argument and trial over him was a moot point; even if it wasn’t, Changmin had decided right then and there that he would make sure of it. Kangin, his right over Jaejoong as his owner…it all became irrelevant the moment the light had faded from Jaejoong’s eyes. If he had to befriend Yoochun to get his full cooperation to strengthen his case, then so be it.

Jaejoong would appear again, Changmin knew it. Far from simply allowing Yunho’s wandering around to find Jaejoong, Changmin would actively help him to search. He would arrange anything, manipulate if he had to, to let Yunho see Jaejoong again.

Anything so that Yunho wouldn’t look at him full of spite and hatred for the next century. Anything so that he could forgive himself, even if only a little.

And maybe, just maybe, while he may never be completely forgiven, he could be partially redeemed.

-{}-

“This is your room,” Jaejoong’s new manager says to him, opening the door to reveal a small, neat room containing a cupboard, a large writing desk and two beds. “The others have already been chosen and are practicing now; they should be finished soon. I’ll tell them you’re here.”

With that, he leaves, and Jaejoong’s alone to start his new life.

The bed next to the window shows signs of being occupied, so Jaejoong sets his luggage down on the other one. For someone who’s lived more than a decade on this planet you’d think he’d have more to show for it, not just a small duffel bag. But Jaejoong had insisted on it over his sisters’ protests. He loved his family dearly, but now was not that time for that. Now was the time to start over.

He sits on the bedsheets and looks over at the next bed, wondering about the traits of its occupant. What will he be like? Jaejoong muses. How tall is he? What’s the colour of his eyes?

Footsteps sound from the outside, and the door opens to the most beautiful man Jaejoong has ever seen. His deep red eyes, when they sweep over Jaejoong, lights up, and his smile is so angelic Jaejoong could swear his heart genuinely skipped a beat.

He doesn’t know who this man is, but for some reason, Jaejoong feels like it’s fate.

-{}-

Changmin had actually been right.

Looking at the boy before him now, Yunho can feel the ice in his heart towards Changmin fading a little more, beyond what Changmin had already succeeded in chipping away at.

Later, he would bring Jaejoong to see the Changmin and Yoochun and Junsu. He’d introduce him to the others, maybe suggest an icebreaker.

But now, this moment exists only for them.

He knows that the road ahead will not be easy, that they may fight, they may argue, they may do worse. But they will always come back to each other, and that knowledge will carry them through.

He steps forward, and clasps Jaejoong’s hands in his.

“I’ve been waiting.”

And that's it! I'm sorry it took so long to finish, but it's finally done! I hope it was worth the wait.