[CONTENTID2] Chasing the Impossible [/CONTENTID2][CONTENTID1]

By the end of May, the scars and bruises had disappeared and Luhan woke to a cleaner face as the days passed. The pain and ache subsided as well and he was free to roam about, run if he wished to, and all in all he was ready to move again without having pain restrict everything he did. Not even his lungs hurt him when he inhaled and that felt like luxury—Luhan had never appreciated painless breathing this much before in his life.

His hair had also gotten a bit longer and after having Sehun ask him numerous times to just go and have a professional fix the mess he’d created, he finally evened the ends. He looked less strange and he couldn’t but thank the hairdresser, and curse his own stupidity back when he thought cutting his hair would be a good enough decision.

Well, it wasn’t.

Sure, having a weird hairstyle caught most people’s eyes and therefore less attention fell on his marked face, stiff movements and blank expressions, to him, it hadn’t worked at all. His mind was still roaming on foreign lands, undiscovered situations, forgotten memories and buried feelings. His heart was also pretty much following his mind’s steps and he was slowly moving closer to pure insanity.

Everything felt like an illusion, like it would disappear into thin air any second now and even the time he broke down on the phone when he talked to his father— and practically begged him to come and take him away from his mother— had felt like a dream. It felt like he was just flying through each situation, not really experiencing or saying what he should. He was floating through time ever since the incident, making him nothing but an empty shell of what was him before it—he was a lost ghost in a material world.

One day after the other, Luhan would glance at himself in the mirror and would find traces of white skin where it had been dark blue the day before. The inside of his eye had also turned white again and his cheek was not as swollen as it had originally been. His hair was corrected, his appearance was pretty healthy. Yet, there was something that was missing; true emotions.

Luhan was starting to feel too tired. Running after Minseok and accomplishing every single request or wish of his was energy-draining and Luhan was begging a God he did not believe in to just let him be. He wanted peace and quiet, calmness and lots of rest. He wanted out of this thing called love and he wanted his previous life prior Minseok, as depressing, sad and pathetic as it was, back.

There was something in his chest that broke every time Minseok would walk off to head for the football team’s practice, of which team Luhan had called out when he was too injured to even care about it. Ever since then, he watched Minseok walk off with a tingle of jealousy because there were people on that same team Luhan had gotten the gay alert from. Of course, he couldn’t be sure, but even that didn’t calm down his fantasies of Minseok hugging and kissing, and smiling with someone other than him.

So he wanted out of that, of everything he had suffered through the past couple of months because, in all honesty, it didn’t seem to be worth the pain and wait. He’d been saving himself for someone who was too straight to even consider him as an option. Among the pain and the rejection, Luhan had found himself where he stood in the first weekend of June.

The sun was bright, the wind too weak and the smell of nature coming from all around him and embracing him. The sound of waves reached his ears and his eyes watched how the sea the rocks wet with quiet splashes of water. Somewhere birds chirped and leaves scratched the ground’s soil, somewhere children played and laughed and yelled.

His hometown brought a sense of calmness, a small dose of the peace he had wanted for so long. He felt at home, he felt he belonged there. Where the sea was blue and the sky stretched over his head to every direction, where the sun glowed bright and where the silence was broken only by nature itself. He felt like this was where he should be, where both his heart and mind would finally be at peace.

“Luhan, the ball!”

Luhan glanced over his shoulder, facing his old friends. They were all wearing sports clothing and panting, hair disheveled and messy. He made a curt nod before he jogged the last couple meters and came to a stop. He bent down, grabbing the ball with his hands and when he straightened his body, he let a soft smile touch his lips.

That was where he should be, where he belonged. Where no cars would interrupt their little match in the middle of the road, where the small boats would float across the sea, where seagulls would fly above his head.

He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with clean air and exhaled all the troubles that bothered him for so long. Luhan had already decided to leave everything behind, at least as long as he was here, in his town.

He turned around and ran with all his might back to his friends, throwing the ball down in the middle of the distance and aiming a good kick.

Luhan was back.

**

The dose of his hometown made him look forward to every single weekend that was to come. He knew that when Friday was there, he would hop on the train and travel back to where he wanted to be without any second thoughts. It had become the only thing attached to the only emotion he felt; anticipation. He would curse every Monday that came and would be restless until the end of the week.

And as the days passed and the year’s finals were just a few hours away, Luhan just knew where he would be in just a couple weeks. He had talked to his father and after the idea of moving back to him alone actually became a plan of his, he knew that the only thing that was left to do was wait. His clothes were already in bags, ready to be carried back home. His possessions stacked by the couch he slept on, from where he would glance at them and check yet another day out on the calendar.

The only thing that started to creep up behind his consciousness was the goodbyes he would have to say and all those people he would have to leave here when he would leave. Luhan knew that although those people were few, they were just as important as his old friends. After all, when little Luhan was alone, Sehun and Baekhyun made him open up. And with that, Luhan’s mind traveled to a different person, one he had not talked in months yet met every day in his classroom.

Kyungsoo.

Luhan could remember how Kyungsoo and him parted ways months ago only because Luhan had made the mistake of being too obvious in front of him. Everything came crushing down when Kyungsoo figured Luhan’s subtle glances that he always tried to cover up, when he understood the interest behind the questions revolving Minseok that would pop up at random times. Kyungsoo had gotten to know and even if he hadn’t asked boldly, he had started to bring more and more obstacles between their already rocky relationship to the point where the distance kept them at different desks during lectures.

And when Luhan confronted Kyungsoo, the shorter male did not acknowledge him, let alone respond. And from then on, Luhan turned entirely to Sehun and Baekhyun.

With that, Luhan’s precious people came to the vulnerable number of three.

Luhan let more days pass, he preferred to watch the others act around him, without him, just to see how they’d be when he’d be gone. They seemed to do well, maybe even better without him. And Luhan held on that thought, hoping that his leaving would not affect them in any way. However, with the date coming closer, Luhan knew that there’d be a moment he’d have to face the people he cared about and actually let loose everything he thought of them. He wasn’t sure when would be the next time he’d see them and the idea of never meeting up with them again only made him obligated to get everything off his shoulders.

The easiest to him seemed to be the football team he’d ditched a couple weeks ago. With the excuse of giving back the clothes he had so dearly held on for so long, he also said his farewells with the players he’d gotten win after win the past few months. It was only Lay who pulled him to the side and asked him how he truly felt, leaving everything and Minseok behind.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I have gotten over him and staying away from him will be something like a rehab for me.” Luhan had smiled, had accepted the light patting on his head from Lay, and had danced his way back to everyone, talking to his coach who so lovingly told him that whenever he wanted to come back or needed anything, they’d be there for him.

That woman had stood very close to a mother figure and her words alone brought him to the rims of crying. He could feel her eyes scanning his face—bruises that were still lightly his sickly white skin, marks that had yet to completely come off—and he could also see how much she was worried and how much she wanted to ask him what happened. But she didn’t. And although a part of him waited for her to do so and then to spill all his pain on her, another preferred to not make her worry much more from what she already was.

(To his ignorance, he thought he would call her at some point when he was already settled in his hometown and ask how the team was doing. A couple months later it proved to be something that was impossible to do.)

Next was Sehun because, somehow, Luhan knew already what to tell him. It was easy to speak to Sehun—that boy was beyond just understanding. But even though Kris was the same, Sehun was the one who changed him and helped him open up to the world again, especially after a full year of not talking to anyone without a good enough reason.

One morning, after they finished writing two final exams, Luhan sat Sehun down at the bottom of the staircase.

“I’m leaving.”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Sehun questioned and Luhan took in a deep breath.

“I will be going back to my ho