The city is a bustling mess in the morning, as always. Establishments of all kinds are bright and alive, luring in customers left and right to avail their products and services. Vehicles of various sizes and colors are passing through the streets and highways in moderate speed only to slow down to a stop when the lights ahead turn red, allowing people to cross from one point to another, their feet stepping hastily over the white lines painted across concrete grey. Regardless of the time, the city does not stop for a moment, people too caught up in their own businesses to spare even a small moment of silence. Their urgent priorities make them unable to pause for a while, their time too precious – too much that not even a second could be wasted.

They could not stop, could not allow their worlds to stop spinning, even if it already had for one person.

The one person whose world ceased to turn the moment his eyes landed on the name inked on his skin.

He walks aimlessly amidst the rushing crowd, his feet dragged across the pavement in heavy steps. The bustle around him simply serves as static background noise to the jumbled thoughts littering his mind, and he barely flinches when a man bumps harshly against his shoulder, causing him to stumble slightly in his step, his ears deaf to the annoyed curse directed towards him.

There is too much of a flurried mess of thoughts and emotions going through him that he could not bring himself to care about the world at the moment. He is looking straight ahead and yet unseeing. He hears, but he isn’t listening. He’s there, but his mind is somewhere else, lost in the clutter where only a few words and phrases manage to stand out.

…It couldn’t be.

What have I done…

…Donghae…

The name alone sends shivers to wrack along his spine and he captures his trembling lower lip between his teeth as he quickens his pace, the desperation to clear his mind – to get some answers, to know – overwhelming his senses. Weaving through the throngs of people, he pushes until he finds himself separated from the chaos caused by the morning rush hour before finally stopping in front of a tall white building.

His eyes, wide and uncertain, rake across the huge label, one so big and daunting, just hovering above the glass front doors. The Center, it reads, and Hyukjae has to release a shuddered breath before he finds it in himself to step forward, bringing himself closer to the tower looming over this particular district of the city.

It certainly is one of the highest buildings in this area, and that fact only serves to intimidate him even more.

Such a thing as intimidation, however, is not enough to stop him from seeking what he came here for.

He advances towards the building with cautious steps, blinking in mild surprise when the doors automatically slide open upon detecting his approach. Cool, air-conditioned air greets his slightly damp skin and he represses a shudder, feeling goosebumps rise on his arms. He rubs his palms against them as he looks around warily, noting the completely professional aura that emits from the front lobby, where a couple of people are lounging around – some looking as if they’re on the verge of tears, others ecstatic. Some look like they’d rather be somewhere else, and then there are those who remind Hyukjae vaguely of himself – the ones who look confused and utterly lost.

Taking a deep breath, he steps towards what looks to be the reception, a slight awkward twitch on his lips as the young woman greets him with a friendly smile.

“Good morning, sir, and welcome to the Center,” she says, her voice crisp. “How may I help you?”

Hyukjae bites his lower lip, unsure as to how he should answer the question. Shrugging slightly, he utters, “I’m… It’s my eighteenth birthday today…” he trails off, fighting the urge to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I see,” the woman nods knowingly before sliding a piece of paper onto the marble counter, along with a black pen. “Kindly fill up this sheet with your information. For newly inked people, we require you to head over to the third floor first in order to confirm the name written on your skin. After that, you may go straight to the fifth floor. The people there should know what to do with you.”

Her smile appears to be pleasant, and yet Hyukjae couldn’t help but find it a little terrifying. No, in fact, he finds the entire place terrifying.

He isn’t sure if it’s just his anxiety doing things to him, making him imagine that this tall white building would close in on him and swallow him whole, never to return to the outside world. Or if it’s because the place seems a little too organized, too stern – as if they’re dealing with nothing but a simple business where they can earn money, when in fact, they’re dealing with quite delicate matters of the heart. People come to this place to find their soulmates, and a lot of them are very emotionally invested in that process, and yet, judging from the receptionist’s words and tone, it’s almost like people are just there for some kind of dentist appointment or a meeting with the CEO.

Hyukjae doesn’t like it.

But then what did he expect? A kind woman to coo at him and tell him that things would turn out just fine? Someone to pat his head and make him think that there isn’t anything wrong, despite the fact that the name of his ex-best friend just appeared on his chest after he brutally betrayed his trust and turned their relationship into one fueled by hatred and spite?

Of course not.

And so, with a pair of trembling knees and a heart ready to burst out of his chest, Hyukjae writes. Numbly moving his hand as he fills out the form, he inscribes in it his name, age, date of birth, address, and contact number, pausing when his eyes land on the last line. Name of soulmate, it says.

Exhaling deeply to force his frazzled nerves to relax and ignoring the slight prickle in his chest, Hyukjae writes it down.

Lee Donghae.

♦

The more time he spends in the Center, the more Hyukjae realizes how much he dislikes it. Indeed, the people who work in the place give nothing but a vibe of professionalism – their words direct but polite, eyes knowing yet unsympathetic. Although he is aware that this must be the kind of attitude one needs in order to work in such a place, where people can easily cry and break down or scream in joy, depending on the outcome of their seeking process, Hyukjae still could not bring himself to truly understand.

How could a place that supposedly brings soulmates together be so cold and detached? He couldn’t quite imagine the faces of the people who walk out of the building happy because they’ve found their fated partners. How does one become happy after spending time in such a place? The atmosphere roughly reminded him of a hospital – even worse, a mental institution, and he’s starting to doubt that he’d even find any answers.

Then again, perhaps it’s because of the fact that the longer he stays in the building, the more he feels the air being squeezed out of him. It’s difficult to breathe – almost as if he’s being suffocated. His heart is still a palpitating mess within his chest, and as he grows closer to the last step of his seeking, where he would finally get some answers and possibly find out about his soulmate, Hyukjae is almost certain the ink on his skin would burn in his anxiety.

He knows it’s all on him and his uneasiness, and yet he couldn’t help but blame the Center for its eerie aura and unnerving walls.

“Lee Hyukjae-ssi?”

The sound of his name being called jostles him out of his thoughts and he quickly stands up, walking on unsteady legs towards the counter where a man is busily typing on a computer.

“That’s me,” Hyukjae says quietly, relieved that his voice didn’t come out as a croak, and he frowns a little when the man doesn’t even bother to look at him.

“Alright, so I got your results from the scanning department, and yes, we’ve confirmed that the ink of Lee Donghae’s name on your left chest is legit and not forged,” the man says, and Hyukjae stops himself from narrowing his eyes because, really? He would forge Lee Donghae’s name on his own chest? Very funny. “Now I’m just going to print an updated version of your file and then you can walk to the left, turn right at the first intersection and look for Room 54B.”

The man retrieves the paper that slid out from the printer and places it on the counter, finally allowing his gaze to land on Hyukjae. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

The fake, professional smile on his face only serves to annoy Hyukjae further, so he simply takes the paper and shakes his head.

“Alright then,” the man says, turning to face his computer once again. “Good luck on your results, Lee Hyukjae-ssi.”

“Uh, thanks?” Hyukjae mutters, raising a brow slightly and shrugging before walking away to the direction of Room 54B. It’s the first time someone offered some kind, encouraging words in the Center, and yet with the way it came out of the man’s mouth, practiced and easily rolling off his tongue as if he said it on a daily or even hourly basis, Hyukjae couldn’t quite find it in himself to appreciate it.

Sighing, he walks slowly through the hallway, following the man’s instructions and yet somehow hoping he would just get lost and never find that room. And then he turns on a corner and sees a small queue outside a door labeled Room 54B. Almost instantly, he feels his heartbeat impossibly speeding up, the lump on his throat growing, and his hands growing cold and shaky.

This is it.

After a few hours of waiting around and going through scans and tests and identity checks, Hyukjae is finally a few strides away from the last step. The last step where he’s going to see the results of his seeking. The last step where he’s going to find out about his soulmate.

Lee Donghae.

It couldn’t possibly be that Lee Donghae.

Surely, there are tons of other people out there who share the same name. It could be someone else. It could be a person who is older. Someone who got inked some time ago, and has already sought out the Center’s help looking for a Lee Hyukjae as well. That someone could be waiting for a call from the organization, waiting for his Hyukjae to get inked and come find him. That someone could be his soulmate.

And yet, it could also be someone younger. Someone who isn’t even inked yet, and then Hyukjae would have to wait for a few years before he gets to find out. Maybe he would only wait for months. Maybe it is a certain someone born in October of the same year. Maybe it’s that beautiful blond boy from his school, the one known to be the beloved angel. His rival and enemy. His ex-best friend.

Curling his fingers around the papers a little tighter, Hyukjae catches his lower lip between his teeth. He feels his knees weakening and his resolve to go on crumbling into dust. His hands are becoming clammy and he’s breaking into cold sweat despite the air conditioning, panic seeping through his pores as he stares at the label of Room 54B daunting him from a distance.

He isn’t ready. Why did he even come here in the first place? He could’ve just stayed at home and pretended that nothing happened – that he didn’t just get inked, with Lee Donghae’s name, of all things. He could have just gone to school and played around with Siwon and Kyuhyun, teased his fans with his winks and smirks, aced the quizzes and recitations, and impressed the teachers with his intelligence…

And then what?

If he went to school, he would have seen Donghae as well.

Would he have been ready for that? Would it be okay, seeing him and acting as if nothing happened when Hyukjae now knows he could be his soulmate? Would he have enough courage to face Donghae after what he did years ago, when he now has his name inked on his skin? Would he be strong enough to continue pushing Donghae away, piling up more hatred between the two of them when the truth lies within him that despite everything, he still hasn’t been able to move on?

That despite all the hate, he still loves Donghae?

A shuddered breath escapes Hyukjae’s lips, his shoulders slumping in defeat, as the realization slowly dawns on him. He blinks furiously, forcing the dampness to go away, his hands gripping the papers so tight the sides are crumpled beyond repair. Exhaling harshly, he sees flashes of Donghae’s smile and laughter – his cold gaze, his harsh and hateful words, the hurt in his eyes – storming through his mind, and Hyukjae feels a familiar gut-wrenching squeeze inside his chest as his vision blurs with hot tears.

He loves Donghae.

Chuckling humorlessly, he swipes the back of his fist against the wetness on his cheeks, shaking his head at his own foolishness before turning around and walking away from Room 54B.

It’s stupid, how he even bothered and wasted his time, trying to find a way out of the guilt, the desperation blinding him to the truth that he has always known but refused to acknowledge.

It doesn’t matter. Whether there are good results awaiting him in that room, saying that a Lee Donghae whose face he doesn’t know is out there somewhere, looking for him – none of that matters.

Because soulmate or not, he only truly wants one Donghae after all.

♦