It was the first time in Donghae's entire schooling life, that he had skipped out on classes. He had the strange teen's name; now to find out what happened to him.

Donghae pelted down the street, racing towards the town's only police station. He was aware of the strange looks he gained as he ran down the main street, still clad in his school uniform and quite obviously not a renowned trouble maker.

Skidding to a halt in front of the police station, Donghae drew in a deep breath, before pushing open the station doors with one hand - the other clutching the piece of paper with Hyukjae's basic details.

Approaching the front desk, the woman behind eyed him up critically, "Shouldn't you be at school, young man?" He gave a shy nod, "But I need your help with something." Donghae said, acutely aware of the affect his pouty lips and puppy eyes were having on the woman.

She sighed and waved him into a conference room, calling in another officer who came bearing a laptop. Once he was seated, Donghae slid the scrap of paper towards the officers, "I'd like to know what happened to Lee Hyukjae." One of the two officers stiffened, "I haven't heard that name in over 25 years." He said cautiously, "What could you possibly want with that case?"

Donghae looked down sadly, "This is going to sound insane, but I've seen him..." The woman leaned forward, "Like a ghost?" Donghae drew back, "Don't look at me like I'm crazy! I didn't want to believe it either. But he couldn't remember who he was. He only knew that he was a dancer and that he went to Mokpo High School. He asked me to help him and... I couldn't say no."

The female officer stared at Donghae sympathetically, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Donghae."

"Well Donghae, I'm sorry to tell you this, but Hyukjae was murdered 30 years ago. He was only 17." Donghae grew pale, "W-who? H-how?" His heart clenched at the thought of the seemingly sweet and bubbly Hyukjae, murdered in cold blood. The male officer sighed and pulled up a file on his computer, turning the device around and letting Donghae see the writing on the screen;

HOMICIDE.

Lee Hyukjae.

Aged 17.

DOB: April 4th 1956.

DOD: April 4th 1973.

...Body washed up on Shangria beach...

...Thrown off High Bridge; 8pm - April 4th 1973...

Donghae's eyes widened and started to burn with tears as he skimmed the document further;

      ...Drowning was the cause of death...

      ...Suspects were party-goers - 3 arrests made, 2 life scentences for first degree murder, 1 twenty year sentence for accessory to murder...

Donghae stood suddenly, his chair making a deafening crack as it hit the cemented floor, "Thank you." He said stiffly, shoulders hunched as he gripped the edge of the table tersely, "I'll take my leave now." Slowly, his fingers unclenched from the table and he strode swiftly to the door - slamming it shut behind him.

.:~*~:.

The long wait until midnight was excruitiating for Donghae. He wanted nothing more then to jump out of bed, run down to the riverside and tell the strange ghost boy everything he'd learnt. With a low growling sound, Donghae rolled over in his single bed, feeling the uncomfortable bedframe beneath his thin mattress.

He huffed in annoyance, staring blankly at the digital clock that sat on his bedside table, diligently announcing the time in bright, glowing red numbers.

10:43.

With a soft, irritated groan, Donghae shifted once more and closed his eyes.

.:~*~:.

A sudden blast of cold air had Donghae snapping awake and he scanned his room quickly. There were no other signs of life, but his blankets were suddenly in a heap on the floor; the clock blaring 11:58PM. A slow grin found its way onto the teen's face, as he quickly threw his legs over the side of his bed and stood up.

He knew now what had happened.

Although he was sure it wasn't the ghostly boy he'd met the night before, he did know who had pulled his covers off and woke him;

"Thanks Appa."

Dressing quickly in warm clothing, Donghae gripped his boots tightly in one hand, as he snuck through the quiet house and out the front door. Sitting on his front step, Donghae shoved his feet into the boots and laced them rapidly, before jumping up and starting to run towards the river.

"Don't go past the bridge, Donghae. No one knows what's around that corner."

Once again, Donghae scoffed at the warning his father had once given him, "If you wanted me to stay away, you wouldn't have woken me up." He muttered, slowing to a jog as he reached the empty riverbank.

"I didn't think you'd come back."

Donghae didn't understand why he suddenly found himself smiling at the ghost boy's voice, but he didn't question it as he faced him.

"Lee Hyukjae."

The words were quiet, almost whispered, but the blue-haired boy's eyes lit up and he clapped his hands happily, "You found out my name! Lee Hyukjae... Oh, it's all coming back to me now!" Donghae tilted his head, as he pouted in confusion (a look that Hyukjae certainly found adorable) and asked;

"You know you're dead?"

Hyukjae laughed loudly, the sound echoing off the bank and water joyously, "Of course I do, Donghae. It's kind of hard not to realise it when you spend 5 years trying to get someone to notice you and fail every time."

Donghae's brow furrowed harshly, "Who were you trying to get to notice you?" Hyukjae's smile softened and he took a floating step forward, "You, Donghae," he said gently.

"I've been following you."