Maybe.

It was hard for him to concede that he was satisfied with the answer; KyungSoo was convinced with a maybe, because sooner or later, he was sure for it to become a yes. JongIn undeniably made an impression on him, yet he wasn't ready to put in into words. In a remarkable way, JongIn was just beyond the bounds of definition.

"LuHan?"

"That's my name." Monggu swirled around the boy's leg and LuHan mocked at the other boy, aggravating the fight of feelings that was happening inside him. Was he resented or infuriated? Did he want to cry or scream? MinSeok was unconditionally disoriented. He had something to say, when LuHan's voice disrupted him in the tracks.

"Baozi, why are you like this? Quiet, running away from me, ignoring me. Did I do something?" The lack of answer. LuHan reiterated.

"You look really pale. What's happening?" MinSeok caressed his tensed cheek for a second, as to check his skin tone, trying to hide it. Had he honestly changed like that during those few days? Guessing the reason why LuHan ran after him was agonizing and he lacked the bravery to ask. A though run through his mind, can he tell him? I like you, so easy. MinSeok shut his eyes tightly and then fluttered them open again, taking a minute to think over his own thoughts.

"Nothing, I just have a bad week." He wasn't as audacious as he hoped, which grieved him, nevertheless he became tranquil. Although that stone on his heart was now more abundant, adding extra weight and burdensome to itself. LuHan gripped his arm.

"No worries, next week will be better. Now let's eat something together, ok?" A tiny drip of panic crossed MinSeok's eyes. No.

"I'm not hungry. I'll go now. See you later." And he left, abhorred and ignominious.

Unknowing of the time, KyungSoo made his way home, monotonously pulling his feet closely one after another. He wasn't even drained anymore. The way his body ached was just peculiar, but it was one of those things he neglected. It was the lack of sleep, that was the conventional excuse and most of the time it was right. Most.

Passing by the regular park, he saw a boy sitting on the bench. He radiated desolation. Maybe KyungSoo wanted to talk to him, maybe he was just to focused on getting home that he simply refused to do it. Obscurity wasn't a something he cherished and it was surely gloomy today. Stars were matt and the moon hidden.

The question was still lingering in his ears. Smiling all the way, he was like a little child who received a massive rainbow lollipop. The thing was, he didn't understand what made that happiness come rushing like that. Was it the interest towards him? The plastered smile that boy had when he saw him? The answer just didn't seem to be there.

JongIn was confident to teach him, his presence in the shop was daily, quite effortless. That 'maybe' was to restrain the boy from thinking he was desperate. He will teach him, the greatest he could. His silent language.

It was certainly late, his parent must be worried, yet that bench felt too comfortable at the moment. And that boy who passed by again, wasn't it the same one he saw the last time? The lonesome boy. Why did he look at JongIn like that? He contemplated and his mind got busy, restraining he feeling of sleepiness.

"Son, where have you been? Do you know what time it is?" He found his mother resting on the sofa, waiting for him half asleep. Father must be asleep already. JongIn bowed his head in apology and made his way to the room, but was stopped.

"Did you go dancing?" He shook his head in disappointment.

"Don't worry, you still have time." His mother was right, but JongIn felt his life running through his fingers, leaving him behind, because he stopped living it. He trotted to the room and fell on the bed, fully clothed and extremely tired. This time, his mind was shut off and JongIn fell asleep quicker than expected.

Insomniac.

KyungSoo had finally found the word to describe himself. It absolutely wasn't the positive connotation, but surely was one of the best chosen words. He was on the Internet again, it was 2pm and he was wide awake. No caffeine today.

Knowing that it wasn't yet the time for him to sleep, he got to learn the basics of the sign language. He knew that 'love' was shown by crossing arms on the chest and 'how are you' is made with two half closed hands circling on the chest then pointing at the person you're asking. Simple. Quite pleased with himself, he straightforwardly memorized the first ten signs, repeating them over and over like someone was going to test him tomorrow. It was a profitable thing to do, because after another hour of teaching himself, his eyes sealed themselves from exhaustion and KyungSoo was back to the dreamland, wondering if he will forget him today.

He would've imagined SuHo walking around sizable cities and play at the beaches, gawking at the stars and getting himself a company. Sometimes he caught himself talking to the stars, asking if SuHo was fine. After it all he still cared. It wasn't painless, the stars were silent and he was unsure of what he felt anymore, with Lay by his side but SuHo in the corner of his heart and that boy in his head. JongIn.

This night, he dreamt of tomorrow, where he will sit and learn the boys language. No memories, no wishes. Just tomorrow.

JongIn woke up, leisurely slithering out of the bed. The clock read 11:09am. Downstairs, his breakfast was already cold and a pithy note from his parents next to the sink stocked with dishes.

"We're going to Daegu. Food's in the fridge. Wash the dishes! See you on Wednesday."

He groaned at the sight of tens of plates and other utensils, swearing they left it all on purpose. Hauling his sleeves up he switched the tap on, letting the warm water pour over his hands. It took him at most twenty minutes, he rushed it.

Finding that there was ultimately not a thing he could do at home, JongIn went for a walk around, throwing on the simplest clothes he found. A white shirt, ink sport pants and an indigo sweatshirt. He thought of messaging LuHan, but discarded the idea after a second.

He moved nonchalantly, taking rounds around the park, as if there was nowhere else to go. Monggu was still with LuHan after yesterday, so he had no one to hang out with. He could message ZiTao...

After a minute, JongIn got a text back from his friend, stating that they can meet in half an hour. Allegedly, he was shopping near so it was favorable for him to hang around with JongIn and boast about the new clothes. Generally, JongIn was utterly indifferent, managing to enjoy the perpetual chatter.

ZiTao was a year older than him and knew sign language as well. All as a result of his pre-school friend who was also mute. He studied the language chiefly for him, which Jongin thought was uncommonly devoted and simply cute.

He was a Chinese transfer student back in highschool; settled to stay in Korea explaining it was nice here. Only thing was, he missed his family and worn himself out working just to earn enough money to bring them here and make them a good living. Which he accomplished two years after graduating.

When ZiTao first came to school, he was paired up with JongIn as his buddy for two weeks, where he would show him the classes and sit next to him to help him acclimate. It only took that for them to become best friend, they would laugh trying to understand each other. One speaking Korean, the other one Chinese, it resulted in them both benefitting in new language skills. In the end, it was LuHan who taught ZiTao Korean. He was also Chinese and it made it simpler to explain new words and phrases. On the other hand, JongIn would talk him through the culture and behaviour, after ZiTao told him about an accident with calling a man 'oppa'.

JongIn sat on the usual bench and waited. He spotted a slim silhouette with at least fourteen bags oppressing his hands. ZiTao had the durability to bear that. He was once the best student in the wushu class; the teacher loved him.

"KkamJong! How are you?" His rambunctious voice came from the other side of the park, as the boy got closer at an eminent speed. Exclusively SeHun and him were approved to call JongIn, KkamJong. That was only because SeHun would call him that no matter how much he protested, while ZiTao had the same skin tone so JongIn found it less discriminating. Good, you? Why are you so excited?

"Oh, I'm good. I bought so many t-shirts I'm not sure if they will fit in my wardrobe." He chuckled at himself and placed the bags down, demanding a hug. He immediately received one; JongIn was in a good mood today, which was exceptional.

"Oh, I see something happened. I'm getting a hug without having to beg and you're smiling. What's going on?" ZiTao nudged JongIn and he swayed nudging him back. His eyebrows went up and down, showing an excessive curiosity and simply being ZiTao. Nothing really, I'm just in a good mood.

"Unusual." His voice changed high pitch at the end and made JongIn grin. ZiTao suggested they go to the Gucci store next to the dance academy, but JongIn objected by holding him back and pointing in the direction of the ₩1,000 shop, to which the other settled with a exaggerated exhale.

"Well, I guess I'll have to buy myself a drink." JongIn tapped ZiTao, pouting, which he did rarely.

"And buy you one too." ZiTao had the face of a father looking afer a little, spoiled child. They made their way to the shop, gesticulating like crazy, because the elder felt too careless to speak and rather used his sign language skills. He was better than JongIn himself. In the end, it was ZiTao who taught him.

SeungSoo was out for work and KyungSoo stayed at home, not knowing what to do since it was Sunday and the shop was closed. Lay was busy in Seongnam with his parents getting ready for the wedding of their auntie's daughter. Lay didn't recall them, but his parents insisted he came, at least out of respect that she took care of him when he was still a toddler. That fact pestered him, he wasn't the type to just sit and watch TV.

KyungSoo felt the need to read a book, yet all his books were still at his parents and any recent ones he bought were already finished. In the drawer, he found some money, just enough to buy one and the bookstore was just a two-kilometre walk away. It pleased KyungSoo considering that he abandoned exercising months ago.

It was definitely comfortable living in Incheon, everything was here. Literally, nothing was lacking. Bookstores, convenient shops, malls, airport, clubs and places of all kinds to visit. He loved big cities, always wanted to go to Busan or Seoul and live there. In the end they moved to Incheon from Goyang, also was a big city, yet Seoul had this kind of persuasion in itself.

The overwhelming feeling from the thousands of books encircling him builded up as his fingers traced the old and new covers. It smelled like heaven. The paper, one flawlessly white, another golden from the age. Still excellent.

He had just ended the last book from The Tales of the Otori called 'The Harsh Cry of the Heron' and felt absent after the last page turned. His life became a sudden nothing without the daily dose of the characters and their dialogues, their failures and successes. They were like friends to him.

He noticed a fascinating book. New. A face of a girl, close up, with stunning color of eyes, blue. Watching him, covered with the ink hair that flowed over her pale face. 'White Horse' by Alex Adams. Impressing and alluring.

Imagine you are the only survivor.

Imagine the worst is yet to come.

Imagine life as you know is over.

How would you survive?

Those lines persuaded KyungSoo, much enough to take the book from the shelf and buy it. Today, he knew what he would fill the restless night with. Words.

MinSeok strolled around the town for good two hours after the encounter with Luhan. His mind was a mess, just like him. He could only think of the boy with misty hair. The way he was; tall and athletic, thin, admirably tanned and shaped, vast smile and styled hair, clothes that suited. Everything he wasn't.

Today's meal was a cracker and he was culpable of eating it, when he felt it slide down his throat. Counting calories, 95. Plus a glass of orange juice, 88 calories. 183 calories, too much. He had to lose it all, as if the butterfly effect was going to fade any minute.

The gym was right in front of him, as the handle opened and he entered with trembling steps. Deja Vu. He entered this gym for the first time years ago, when he was still in high school. It was the second week of his trial and it was taking over as the calorie intake got lower to the point where normal activities felt like carrying stones all day. Now he was here again, in the same state, less excited, but with the same trembling steps. It was taking over again and MinSeok knew it was just the beginning.

"Good afternoon, can I buy a monthly pass?"

"Of course, how often will you visit?" The woman was nice, seeing he was going to spend the money.

"Everyday."

When the trauma finally left his mind, LuHan strayed back to his apartment.

JongIn was out somewhere, MinSeok left him. He laid in his bed, thinking over things that seemed to the most important now. MinSeok didn't like him, that was the conclusion. He despised it and desired it wasn't true, but something at the back of his mind was repeatedly shouting at him for being so ignorant and stupid. Why would a person like MinSeok, like the person like him? Talkative, naïve, childish, troublemaker.

It was debilitating, the thinking; LuHan's eyes closed. Somber and heartbroken.

I need to go somewhere. JongIn explained and ZiTao stood up from the bench they were sitting on, sipping on the grapefruit juice that JongIn insisted to buy, even though the elder prefered apple juice.

"Where do you want to go now? I don't have any more money." A chuckle escaped JongIn's lips and he thanked his friends for the time he spent, and money. ZiTao shuddered.

"Aish aish, right you're going, I have to go to. Aish, YiFan is waiting for me. Aish, I'm late. Aish." The boy bumped into a brief hug and waved at JongIn whilst tackling the monstrous amount of bags he carried. JongIn laughed wholeheartedly at way the strong ZiTao struggled to run across the pavement. Cute.

JongIn was unpleasantly shocked when he came across the sign 'Closed', then he remembered today was Sunday. He couldn't even remember what day it was, what a mess. Fortunately, he always carried a tiny notebook with a pen around for when he would have to communicate with someone.

"I'll be here tomorrow. 5pm. Your teacher, JongIn."