Yixing is silent during the car ride, not that Luhan expected anything different. The CNS agent sits beside him, teeth buried into his bruised bottom lip, and eyes trained on the passing scenery outside the car’s window. Luhan can barely look at him. With every glance over he sees the broken man from that day, lost and haunted with blood staining his hands and face. When Luhan doesn’t see the Yixing from the past, he remembers the picture of his father, younger with fewer wrinkles and a smile that reached his eyes.

Yixing makes a noise beside him as they reach the venue that causes Luhan to look over. He’s looking ahead, his lip freed in order to frown, and his hands are clenched tight into fists.

“What,” Luhan asks, focusing on the traffic again, but curious about what Yixing sees.

“Reporters,” Yixing says, nearly spitting the word out as he glares. Luhan frowns as well. He had his suspicions that reporters would be there. The memorial was not for mourning but for show. It was to be televised for all to see on all channels and digital displays.

“You won’t have to say a word,” Luhan tells him. “You’re CNS, so they’re less likely to bother you even if you’re also a Zhang.”

“I was also his partner,” Yixing reminds him.

“Yes,” Luhan agrees with a nod of his head, “but you’re going in with me, and I’ll make sure they don’t bother you. I have a plan.” Yixing looks over to him. Luhan can tell even as he focuses on the slow-moving traffic because the gaze is heavy on his skin.

“What are you planning?”

Luhan smirks, lips pulling back as he spares a brief glance in Yixing’s direction. “You’ll see.”

A valet scurries over to Luhan’s door the moment he stops in front of Grand Capital Hall. He drives the car away as the pair stand in front of the steps leading up to the entrance.

“I’ve seen this place too much this year,” Luhan says drily. “It’s starting to lose its appeal.” He turns to Yixing then, looking over the uniform to make sure everything’s in place. “You ready?”

“No,” Yixing replies, but he steps forward, hands in the pockets of his slacks and eyes looking straight ahead. Luhan quickly catches up to him, walking up the stone steps. There’s a surge of enthusiasm among the crowds of reporters. They’re the second pair of highly anticipated guests after Junmyeon’s family, and Luhan’s sure the reporters are desperate for interviews.

His guess his proven correct as he hears a loud cry of “sir” when they’re halfway up the steps. He pauses first, while Yixing stops a moment later, glaring at Luhan as he turns around. Luhan grins back and turns as well. A woman with a pixie cut stops only a few steps below him. In the hand closest to her face is a thin rectangular device that Luhan knows is a microphone, while tucked behind her ear, and peeking out like a third eye is a microscopic camera.

“What do you think of the new regulations being enforced,” the out of breath woman asks, taking another step as she reaches out the thin microphone. Luhan leans forward to the gadget in order to be heard over the loud chatter of the crowd.

“I approve,” he answers. His eyes are trained on her because the camera will make it seem like he’s looking directly at it. “I wish we could do more to assure that such travesties would never occur. The rebels are menaces to our peace and happiness, and I think no Imperfect can ever truly be anything but sympathizers. I wished we’d done more in the beginning, but I’m happy with the way things are finally coming along.” He his head just a bit and leans back. “I hope we can live in a society without both Imperfect and rebel,” he says loudly.

He gives a slight nod in dismissal at the stunned reporter and turns away to start climbing the steps once more.

“What the heck was that,” Yixing asks in a whisper, pulling on Luhan’s arm to keep them in sync.

“My plan,” Luhan answers, whispering as well.

“What about Minseok,” Yixing whispers next.

“This will help,” Luhan says. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“You’d better,” Yixing says, pulling away. He’s frowning once more. “You’ve just placed a rather large target on your head and I’m not sure we’ve flushed out all the rebels from this city.”

Yixing joins the CNS agents standing along the walls of the room all dressed in the red or white uniforms denoting their ranks. Luhan watches in mild fascination as the many red dressed members bow their heads in an act of formality as Yixing passes by, taking up a spot beside the door Junmyeon’s family is expected to walk through.

Cameras are set up throughout the room, already recording despite the stage being empty. Luhan finds Kyungsoo’s and Kris’s parents before he sees his friends sitting rows behind their respective families. He spots President Kim as well, but since the man had made no request for them to sit together, he takes a place beside his friends.

“How are you,” Luhan asks, as he sits down on Kyungsoo’s right. He hadn’t seen the younger since that night, but he looks as well as ever.

“Not too bad, considering what’s happen,” Kyungsoo replies. He glances towards his left and turns back to Luhan. “I see you managed to get Yixing to come along.”

“Yeah,” Luhan replies with a groan, not feeling up to recounting that challenge. He wants to lean back but knows that’s against all the etiquette rules that were beaten into him. “This will be fun,” he states sarcastically, “who’s speaking?”

“Family friend,” Kyungsoo says. “The other former head of CNS, Sir Yung, I think. I never really liked him, so I never bothered to learn his full name.

“Isn’t he a little insane,” Luhan asks, quirking a brow.

“More than just a little,” Kyungsoo scoffs. “CNS was his brain child. He also endorsed the Genocide. He used to have these horrid tales about killing, catching, and imprisoning Imperfects. The type of stories that should just never be retold, let alone at a dinner table. I stopped talking to Junmyeon for a while when he joined the CNS because I thought he’d end up like that psychopath.”

“Lovely,” Luhan huffs. “Guess we really are heading towards a second genocide.”

A hush falls over the crowd, and at the first chimes of the nation’s mourning song everyone that’s sitting begins to stand. Like everyone around him, Luhan watches the door beside Yixing. When it opens, all the members of CNS drop down to one knee save for Yixing. The first to enter the room is the current head of CNS’s field operations and he takes up the place on the opposite of the door, hands behind his back. The members of CNS stand once he gets in position and bows their heads, hands tucked behind their backs as the family enters. Following him is Junmyeon’s older brother. His face is set in a neutral expression, eyes trained on the camera before him. Luhan’s sure that his wife and children are somewhere in the first row.

Junmyeon’s mother is next. She’s dressed in full black, with a lace veil covering her face. Her eldest lends his hand to help her climb the stage. Luhan expects Junmyeon’s father to arrive next. The Kims weren’t a large family, they’d followed an old model of having an heir and a second child to make sure their legacy was preserved and expanded upon, and this type of ceremony was for immediate family only. Junmyeon’s father doesn’t come next. Instead, dressed in all white, with a veil similar to Mrs. Kim, Junmyeon’s former fiancée walks through. She walks with measured steps towards the stage and holds a bouquet of mostly white flowers in her hand. As she reaches the stage, she temporarily hands the bouquet over to Mrs. Kim while Junmyeon’s brother helps her up.

The three people walk over to their seats but remain standing. Behind them is a large screen with a picture of Junmyeon in his white CNS uniform, smiling.

Junmyeon’s father finally arrives. He treks swiftly towards the stage, face drawn tight, and with more wrinkles than the last time Luhan has seen him. The original CNS field head comes in last, just as the mourning song has ended. He walks with an odd limp over towards the stage, taking his place in front of the podium. The nation’s anthem starts for the second time that day, and everyone remains standing and facing the stage with various emotions, some faked, and some forced.

They sit once the song has ended, and the former head clears his throat. Luhan doesn’t watch him, his gaze is focused on the woman in white. Her head is bowed, and the bouquet in her hands is gripped tightly as the service begins. He spares a quick glance towards Yixing out of concern, only to see the younger male’s eyes on the woman as well, focused but unreadable.

She doesn’t belong there. She’d been exiled from the upper echelons of society and disowned by her own family for running off and marrying a man of District Seven wealth. She’d led Junmyeon into being the laughing stock of District One. To their peers, love couldn’t compare to money and power.

The former CNS head clears his throat as he steps closer to the microphone and podium. His eyes aren’t on the crowd before him, he stares forward and Luhan knows that he’s looking at a camera.

“Kim Junmyeon was a strong and incredible man from a family that helped lay down the foundations of our nation,” he starts off in a gravelly tone of voice. “Taken from this world by those that pledge to wipe out our civilization, our way of life, and return it to the primitive state of war and savagery we’ve worked hard to escape.”

Luhan stops paying attention then. He finds himself once again thinking back to that picture in Yixing’s hotel room. It was a picture of his father, younger and happier at a time when his mother must have been alive. Beside his father had stood someone Luhan knew in his youth, an uncle that really wasn't an uncle. They'd fought together. Luhan remembers that.

****

Luhan's wide brown eyes searched every dark corner of his room in childish fright, while he sat in bed. He'd awoken in the middle of the night from another nightmare. In this dream the men in red and white uniforms had returned to his school, calling out name after name. However, unlike reality they'd called out Luhan's name and like his peers, he was forced to walk to the front of the classroom where they stood waiting. The men waiting had leered down at him, their nondescript faces monster-like and grim. When Luhan had reached them, a hand clamped hard onto his shoulder as a whispered voice told him that he'd never see his father again.

It had been a horrible dream. The older kids had told him that the Imperfect kids were taking away, sent to a remote island in the middle of nowhere and never allowed to see their parents again. Luhan wasn't an Imperfect, but it had still been a fear of his. Every day, since their first visit his mind would be filled with fear that they might come back and mistake him for an Imperfect.

When he had finished checking his room, he’d climbed out of bed, unsure of the time but sure his father was home. Outside of his bedroom was the sound of muffled voices that grew louder the closer he came to them. Luhan’s childhood home was often filled with night visitors and that night was no different. The whispered words that grew slightly more distinguishable as he drew closer were spoken in joy although in a foreign language. Luhan’s father had loved speaking in his native tongue, and Luhan had always enjoyed hearing it when he could.

In the brightly lit kitchen with his back towards the entrance, Luhan’s father sat. Across from him sat the dark-haired and scarred man that Luhan had only known as Uncle. He was the first to notice Luhan and beckoned the child over with a smile, while his father had regarded him with a look of curiosity.

“What are you doing awake, kiddo,” his uncle asked. His voice was deep and rich, the opposite of Luhan’s father low and raspy voice. While his father’s voice always sounded sad even when he wasn’t, his uncle's voice reminded him of chocolate. It was warm and happy.

“I had a nightmare,” Luhan had answered after he sat down. He’d looked towards his father then, embarrassed by his childishness and anticipating a dismissal from the table. “About the men in red and white uniforms.”

“The men in red and white uniforms,” his uncle had repeated. His smile had disappeared for a moment, but then he’d turned towards Luhan’s father with his usual grin. “He’s dreaming about those bastards too, huh.”

“They’ve been visiting schools, I’ve heard,” Luhan’s father had said as he leaned back in his seat and reached for a cigarette. “Don’t worry about them. They won’t touch you,” he added as he looked at his son.

“Yeah,” his uncle had agreed. “They’re too busy going after the people that risked their lives for this ing country, aren’t they? We fought for those elite bastards over and over again and what did we get? They paid us in blood and ashes, and threw us in landfills.”

Luhan hadn’t understood what he meant, but he sounded cool. His uncle always sounded cool, even if his father didn’t think so. Luhan’s father hadn’t thought he sounded cool then either, and gave the man a look that Luhan had learned meant that he wanted the person to shut up fast. It was something he’d wanted to learn since he’d first seen it because it was a look that everyone understood. The man across from his father is the only person in the world that could ignore it.

“What I’m saying is,” he had begun again. He’d slapped his hand down on the table, almost knocking his yellow and brown can of beer over, and leaned forward. “Those government dogs aren’t worth your thoughts, kiddo. Your dad would burn this nation down before they could even dream of touching a hair on your head.” He’d leaned in closer to Luhan then. He’d smelt sour, the stench of the malt alcohol wafted off him and made Luhan wrinkle his nose in disgust. “Your father was a force back in our military days, and to this day I’m grateful to have been assigned to the same squadron as him.” He’d switched back to his native language as he sat back up, and begun talking to his father.

****

“We must continue to honor Kim Junmyeon’s legacy and goals. We must follow his example and keep our citizens safe from the threat of Imperfects at all costs.”

Those are the last words said, and the only other thing Luhan hears as he breaks away from his thoughts of the past. He glances to the left of him and notices the way Kyungsoo’s jaw is clenched as if he’s biting down hard to keep himself from shouting out. He’s glaring straight ahead, but not quite at the speaker. On the opposite side of Kyungsoo Kris sits rigidly in his seat, tired eyes flitting around the room ever so often. Yixing stands back straight, face blank, and eyes still staring at the woman on the stage.

The next event is the candle lighting ceremony. Sir Yung steps back from the podium, and as it descends into the ground a large candelabra made of crystal emerges. There are five branches, that spans almost the entire stage, each with intricate designs carved into the glass. There is a different colored candle in each holder, and the people on the stage each take up space in front of one.

Junmyeon’s father steps forward first lighting a black candle. “For grief,” he intones, deeply. On the screen behind them, the wick of the black candle blazes bright. It is the only candle that represents those that remain, and burning it symbolizes the alleviation of grief by friends and family.

“For peace and serenity,” Junmyeon’s mother says. She lights the white candle in front of her which represents a spirit’s afterlife.

Im Yoona, Junmyeon’s former fiancée, steps forward next. Her long skirt swaying with her movement as she takes her spot in front of the middle candle. The candle before her is a pinkish-red for the heart.

“For,” she starts in almost a whisper. “For everlasting love,” she says louder, lighting the candle and stepping back. Junmyeon’s brother steps up after her, his face is still void of emotion, but his eyes stare unwavering into a camera. Although it is not the last in the candelabra it is the last that signifies the elements that transcend mortality.

“For eternal remembrance,” he announces, lighting a yellow candle for the mind.

The last candle is supposed to be lit by the speaker. Its color represents the mortal being and is never a set color unlike the other four. The color for Junmyeon is a royal blue, and Luhan can’t help but think it’s a color that fits him well. Calming, trusting, intelligent, and so much more.

“For loyalty and honor,” Sir Yung intones, stepping back after lighting the candle. He looks up from the orange flame to the camera once more as he begins the final ceremonial words. "We stand in ceremony for a child of the state, of perfect spirit, heart, and mind. May his memory be rich in love and reverence."

“For Kim Junmyeon,” the crowd says in unison while standing.

The candles remain on the stage when the service is over, even as the family begins to leave the stage one by one. Junmyeon’s father goes first, followed by his mother, and then his brother.  His ex-fiancée is the last to leave, she’d handed the bouquet off to his mother, and now she walks with determination down the steps. She doesn’t go through the door to exit like the others do. She stops beside Yixing, her lace gloved hand teaching his arm as she speaks. Luhan can’t hear a thing she says, but he doubts it’s good from the way Yixing looks. He decides then to intervene, and squeezes himself pass Kyungsoo, Kris, and all the other people still lingering about. Yixing’s lips are pulled down at the corners, and they part as he says words Luhan can’t hear. He departs first, breaking the ritual rules as he slips through the exit beside him. She slips through the door next, and Luhan follows them both.

When Luhan finally gets to the corridor only she remains.

“Yoona,” he calls out to her causing her to swiftly turn around.

“Luhan,” she greets, walking towards him. They meet in the middle of the corridor, Yoona’s face is still covered by the lace veil, but Luhan can see the frown on her lips.

“What did you say to him,” Luhan asks. Her eyes widen at that and she looks towards the other end of the corridor as if expecting Yixing to come back.

“He should have been on stage,” she states simply. She reaches a hand under the veil and rubs at her red-rimmed eyes.

“Why were you there then,” Luhan asks pointedly. He crosses his arms over his chest as he waits for her answer. She was beautiful, had always been beautiful, and they’d been the most talked about couple.

“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Yoona replies. “They came to me. I haven’t seen my mother or his since I called off the engagement and the first thing they say to me is that I need to participate in this sham of a service. They told me I humiliated him, that I made him a joke in District One, and that it was only right that I didn’t do the same in his afterlife.”

“You left one of the most powerful men in this country to play poor with a factory worker,” Luhan reminds her. “Of course, you humiliated him. Pretending like you give a damn about his afterlife doesn’t help him. This wasn’t even for him it was for them and their image to the public. They needed you, not Yixing, to play the sad lovesick ex so that they could pretend that he was perfect in all aspects. They were more upset about you breaking the engagement than he’d ever been.”

“I know that,” Yoona whispers. “He understood back then. We were friends, and he’d told me how much he loved Yixing, how much he didn’t want to marry me or have children for the sake of appearances. He thanked me when I broke off the engagement.”

She laughs then, the sound bordering on hysterical, and Luhan can’t help but feel concerned for her. He’d never disliked her either, although he had been and still is annoyed about her being on that stage. She pulls the veil off causing strands of her long brunette hair to slip from her loose braid at the motion.

“He came to visit me recently, it was back when he returned to the city, and I wanted to honor him for that. My goal being here was to honor him the best I could because he was the only one that supported my decision and the only one that talked to me after. I didn’t mean to hurt Yixing, Luhan. You know we actually did get along before the engagement. I only wanted to make sure that the world didn’t think he was unloved even for a second. I did love him, but only as a brother.”

“Okay,” he says with a huff. “Junmyeon would have hated everything about this, but he would have been glad to see you there.” Yoona gives him a pained closed mouth smile and pulls him into a hug of gratitude.

Yixing is at his car when Luhan exits the building. His hands are in his slacks again, and he’s looking off into the distance.

“Where are we going,” he asks the younger male. Yixing turns towards him, looking him over as he stands properly.

“Let me drive,” Yixing commands, hand slipping out of his pockets to take Luhan’s car keys. Luhan looks over the younger male, uncertainty clouding his features, but with a shrug he passes the keys over.

I added another flashback and since I like SM girls groups as much as the boy groups I decided to make Yoona Junmyeon's former fiancee because she's a goddess. I also wanted to make the service a bit clinical and cold because in my mind grief is a private emotion for Perfects, so I didn't think any obvious signs of mourning and sadness would fit.

The next chapter may be longer than this and may take a bit longer to post because I'm going away this week, and I have an old Sekai mini fanfic I want to publish this month.