It feels like hours before Luhan finally speaks again. The sun, now higher in the sky, is warm against his skin, yet the street and surrounding area are just as quiet as it had been in the dark of the night.

“I want to hide you away,” He says, “All of you. Sehun and Tao too. Until this– everything–is over.”

A soft cooling breeze blows in intervals, whistling to fill the lack of sound around them. “One side will have to win eventually,” Minseok says. “Your side will win. The Red Devils are putting up a decent fight, but you have the power and weaponry to destroy them. And then… Do you think those in charge will keep us alive after that? They’ve killed most of us off before the Red Devils even existed. They’ll eradicate us completely to prevent another chance of rebellion.”

“I know that,” Luhan says, and he does.  He has never been naive about the Imperfect struggle even if he had ignored it for most of his life. “That’s why. Things will get worse, and I don’t want to see others hurt.”

****

District Eight remains frozen in time under the aureate sun. Like a sleepy town that has not quite woken, not a soul roams the streets. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant hums of unseen traffic as Luhan drives through familiar roads. The brick and mortar school of Luhan’s youth obscures the sun from view as he passes it. The decrepit field adjacent to the two-level building bears an emptiness that suggests years without playful students, and the shadowed schoolhouse windows hint at a lack of life behind the brick walls.

It’s all a little too much for Luhan, and the former model finds himself speeding through the rest of the district, not failing to notice how the city brightens and comes to life as he crosses the bridge away from the more residential side.

****

Luhan leans his head back, bathing his face in the warmth of the sun that filters through the window beside him. His heart drums within him. It reminds him that he’s broken, inherent Imperfect traits that were never eliminated combined with the side effects of withdrawal, pulling him further away from being the ideal Perfect.

He hears the smallest of noises, prompting him to draw his head forward, heavy eyelids opening closed eyes to meet with Kris’s narrowed ones. He stares as Kris speaks, watches as the taller male’s lips move to words Luhan can’t hear over the buzzing in his ears. The buzzing had begun when Luhan had first entered the building, growing louder and more persistent as he got closer to his apartment door.

A hand clamps down on his shoulder, forcing the sound back and his thoughts away.

“Are you okay, Luhan?” The thick brows above Kris’s eyes are drawn together, and the corners of his lips are pulled down just a bit.

Luhan nods his answer, swallowing thickly. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, and it sounds nothing like the scratchy cowardly sound he feared might escape from his lips. “What did you say?”

The corners of Kris’s lips tug further downward, as the hand on his shoulder applies a bit more pressure. “Let’s go inside,” Kris suggests, his voice soft and coaxing, and Luhan allows himself to be led inside the apartment.

“I told you to stay inside and rest,” he states, as Luhan takes a seat once they’re in his kitchen. “You shouldn’t have been driving after your attack.”

“I’m not weak,” Luhan says, it lacks the bite it would typically have, just like Kris’s words lack the strong disapproval. “You couldn’t have expected me to stay here after everything.”

Kris doesn’t respond, he places a glass of water in front of Luhan and takes a seat across from him. “Where did you go?”

“To Minseok’s,” he admits. It’s easy to say now that he’s been a bit more honest with himself. “I thought he deserved to know from an actual person rather than through the bits of exaggerated gossip he’d hear it from otherwise. They helped him, after all.”

“You’ve been there the entire night,” Kris asks him, and Luhan shakes his head in answer.

“Kris,” he starts off, he tries to fight the grimace that’s threatening to cross his face. He’s unsure if now is the time to bring up Chanyeol’s status as a possible Imperfect, but he thinks that if he’d been given the same courtesy he’d have wanted to know sooner rather than later. There was never a right time to discuss such a thing. “You’d have told me, right? If you knew Minseok was an Imperfect, you’d have told me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Kris replies. “You still haven’t forgiven them for lying?”

“No,” Luhan replies, a weak smile taking over his features. “They hadn’t actually apologized though, have they? It doesn’t matter much now anyway, there are more important things to worry about, so I’m letting it go.” He pauses then, and stares at Kris. He wants to take in his every move and action. “You know, don’t you,” he asks. “About Chanyeol and what he’s really hiding.”

Kris’s expression closes off as he stares across the table, the curiosity in his eyes seeping away. “Yes,” he states after a moment, and Luhan can hear both the caution and threat in his voice. Luhan stares as well, taking in the squared jaw and set shoulders, he’s curious about what’s going through Kris’s mind, but he decides not to press it.

“Okay,” he finally says, taking a sip from his water. His smile strengthens as he continues to speak. “So, we’re all just going around falling in love with Imperfects,” he adds with a laugh. “I guess it’s a testament to our ed-up upbringing.”

“You’re really okay with this,” Kris asks, the caution still in his voice.

“Not entirely, no,” Luhan admits, “but I’d be a hypocrite otherwise, and I’m mostly just happy that you already knew. It would be rather pathetic if we were both being used by Imperfects, wouldn’t it?”

“So, you and Minseok,” Kris says, dragging the question out.

“I’ve forgiven him,” Luhan states. “We’re not… we’re really not anything and I don’t think it’s possible for us to be anything again. He’s leaving, and I can’t keep him from that. Now that Junmyeon’s dead, it will only become more dangerous for him.”

The frown makes an appearance once more, and Luhan grins to himself as he looks down towards the table, fingers tapping a beat to a song he can’t recall.

“Have you eaten,” Kris asks. Luhan spares a glance back up. Kris is leaning back into his chair, and both of his hands have disappeared out of sight.

“Not hungry,” he mutters.

“How are you feeling,” Kris asks next, causing a frown to appear on Luhan’s own lips.

“Like I’ve been hit by a train,” he admits, sighing as he does so. “I’m tired. I feel like I can crawl into bed and sleep for a week, but I’m too wound up for that.”

“I figured as much,” Kris says. “I tried to get here as early as I could, only to find out that you’d run off.” He lifts his left hand and slides something across the table to Luhan.

Luhan looks from the package of sleeping pills to his friend, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I thought you didn’t approve of pills bought off the black market.”

“I don’t,” Kris admits, “but you’ve taken those with no side effects, and you need the sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Luhan says after a moment. It’s the second or third time he’s said that within the hour, and it flusters him with how easy they come when they were always so hard to say before.

“For what,” Kris asks.

“For being such an to you,” Luhan says. “I know what they forced on you. I knew what you’ve been through, but I’ve been a jerk ever since, haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” Kris agrees. “You have. I always knew why you acted that way…” he pauses as soon as Luhan flinches. “Why are you suddenly being introspective, Lu?”

“I spent the night thinking of our past,” Luhan admits. “I’ve been thinking of the past a lot lately, but last night I thought about everything, even the uglier things that I thought I forced myself to forget. Death’s supposed to do that to you, right? I think I read that somewhere.”

“Get some sleep, Luhan,” Kris commands, nodding to the pills. “I won’t leave until you do.”

Luhan opens the cap, depositing two pills into his hand and pushes the bottle back over to Kris.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to,” he declares, “but try not to forget that you need sleep as well.”

****

Luhan wakes to silence and his room glowing from the sun. He’s disoriented at first until the memories rush back. A groan slips passed his lips, as he rolls onto his back, pressing the heels of his hands against his closed eyes, forcing himself awake. He sits up in bed as he tries to organize his thoughts.

“Junmyeon’s dead,” he says aloud. That’s the most important detail. Everything is currently centered around that fact. Junmyeon’s gone and he won’t be coming back. There will be a memorial in his honor to commemorate him for his service, and because he’s the youngest son of one of the most powerful families in the country. He will be cremated, he may have already been cremated, Luhan’s not sure what day it is. Ashes and a picture will be placed in the family crypt for private mourners close to the family, and his service picture will be placed somewhere in Memorial Hall, the place where all of those that have died for the greater good is worshiped and mourned by the public.

As for Yixing, Luhan doesn’t know what to do about Yixing. He’d stumbled through heavy tomes in foreign languages about grief on sleepless nights. However, he’d never helped a Perfect through grief before, doesn’t know if they experience the seven whatevers that were associated with grief. Besides, he’d be useless, he can barely get through his own problems, he doubts he could help any other soul.

Minseok’s presence was another weighing heavy on his mind currently. While they may all be grieving, Minseok was in more danger than ever before. Junmyeon was murdered by Imperfects, and Luhan knows what that will mean for the remaining Imperfects within the city. They won’t be safe, there will be stricter regulations, more than identification codes and tracking devices. Most Capital City Imperfects were lucky in some ways. Imperfects were commodities to the wealthy elite, and many businessmen have investments in the shadier parts of the city. That would mean nothing now. Junmyeon was nearly as elite as a person could be within this country. His life was more important than revenue loss, and his death will be as well. His death will be used as full on propaganda, and not a soul will be able to go against any laws enacted in his honor, without seeming to go against the state. Luhan will have to get Minseok out of the city as soon as possible, and Kris will need to do something about Chanyeol.

He exits his room, his arms stretched high above his head as he tries to shake the heavy fatigue out of his bones. Kris sits up, from his position on Luhan’s couch, watching him with tired eyes. “You’re awake,” he states. as Luhan steps deeper into the living room.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “what time is it?”

“Seven,” Kris says. “You’ve slept for nearly twenty-four hours.”

“And you haven’t slept at all,” Luhan says, frowning his concern.

“I have,” Kris replies. “I tried to,” he clarifies when Luhan glares at him.

“What have I missed,” Luhan asks.

“The cremation ceremony is today,” Kris says. “It will be closed off and held at the family’s main estate off the coast of Starfall this evening.”

Luhan grimaces, nothing Kris says comes as a surprise but it’s still something that Junmyeon would have never wished for. His friend had only traveled to the main estate once and although Junmyeon had spoken his love for the surrounding area, vibrant and stunning in the warmth of summer, he’d never actually liked the estate.

“And Yixing,” he asks.                                       

“We’ve gotten him to change hotels,” Kris says. “He’s…We’re taking turns checking in on him. He’s a shell, Lu. He’s not really there and it’s terrifying. I don’t know what to do.” Luhan thinks back to how Yixing had first looked, caked in blood that wasn’t his own, unresponsive, and eyes distant as if he was reliving the moment again and again.

“I don’t think you can do anything,” Luhan says. “It’s something he’ll have to get through on his own, and Perfects, they’re genetically inclined to hide their emotions and he’s had training on top of that.”

“We are,” Kris interrupts.

“What,” Luhan asks, turning his head to stare at his friend, confusion clear on his features.

“We are genetically inclined to hide our emotions,” Kris explains, “you and I are Perfects too, even if we’re not completely like the others.”

Luhan laughs. “We are,” he agrees. “How’s Kyungsoo?”

“I don’t know,” Kris says. “With a father like his, I doubt anyone will know how he’s feeling. We’re lucky he allows us to see the few emotions he graces us with.” Luhan hums his agreement, and leans back in the seat, thinking of his former manager. Junmyeon was like an older brother to Kyungsoo. They spent the most time together in their childhood, had the same tutors, and similar expectations were placed on them. Their friendship was a friendship that was conceived long before their birth. Their mothers were of similar class and values, and their upbringing differed greatly from Yixing’s more relaxed childhood, Kris’s motherless childhood, and Luhan’s very own adopted childhood.

“I have Junmyeon’s things in the rear of my car, and I have no idea what to do with them,” Kris declares, tossing his head back and closing his eyes.

“Keep them until Yixing’s well enough to see it,” Luhan suggests. “He’s the sentimental type, he might want a few things.”

“It’s bizarre,” Kris states with a groan. Luhan doesn’t know if he’s referencing having Junmyeon’s things in his car, or the idea that Junmyeon’s not there anymore and won’t be coming back. Either way, he agrees. It’s strange, Junmyeon’s gone. His heart has stopped, his eyes have lost the spark of life, the blood in his veins has run dry, he’s no longer a physical being. Yet his presence is still felt, his things remain, there are places that hold memories of him. Like with his father, there will be scents and sights that incite the familiarity he once felt with his friend.

We're close to the end! This fanfic will definitely be finished this summer and I'm really excited about that ^.^ I said on AO3 that I really adore writing this world, but I'm still unsure rather or not I'll do side stories for this. I don't want to make any commitments until this story is definitely done, and we'll see what happens from there.

Anyway, I have a tumblr (Binderwriting.tumblr.com) I don't use it nearly as much as I should, but I figured if anyone has questions or anything that they don't feel comfortable putting in the comments, you can send me an ask there. Like always, thank you for reading and all the love you give me and this fic, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm sorry for the long wait in between updates.

ALSO!!!! I do read the comments, I don't respond all the time because sometimes I forget and sometimes I feel like it's too late to respond. So please don't get discouraged about leaving other authors comments if I don't respond, other authors aren't nearly as bad as I am when it comes to that, and I'll try to get better <3