Huang Zitao came to Seoul for change. To change his life, to change the scenery, to change himself. Yet, he misses Qingdao like crazy. Some may ask him, if they ever bothered to, why he doesn’t just go on back home, but Huang Zitao isn’t a quitter. Didn’t he say as he left that nothing was impossible for him? He refuses to return home until that statement has some ring of truth to it. But he still missed Qingdao.

Seoul wasn’t as nice as he had anticipated. The city was beautiful and everything he expected, but the people didn’t warm up to foreigners so easily, yet standing here at Namsan, where he was faced with a view of the city below, he felt almost at home. Tao closed his eyes and raised his head heavenwards, letting the warm rays of the winter sun soak into his cold flesh.

He’d have to return to the dorm soon, it was his turn to cook dinner tonight. Technically, it wasn’t a dorm. It was an apartment he shared with four other guys and together, they shared the burden of their living expenses and household chores. As he turned to leave, Tao spied a young man standing not too far away, his own head bowed as if in prayer. He was transfixed by the youth, whose blonde hair was tinged with a slight shade of pink. Unusual, utterly captivating, and entirely familiar.

The man raised his head, and as if his eyes were drawn to him, turned his face around until their gazes collided. Tao stared at his apartment complex neighbor Oh Sehun unblinkingly. It was a bizarre rom-com moment where everything seemed to slow down and recede until they were the only ones in existence.

“Yah! What’re you looking at?!”

The rude utterance broke the spell of the moment, shocking Tao back into reality. He blinked, shook his head to clear it of the cobwebs before avoiding the other man’s gaze by dropping his to the ground at his feet. Here was another reminder that Seoul residents are rude and ill-mannered. Just then, his phone went off. Reaching into his pocket, he fished it out and looked at the screen. .

“Yeoboseyo?”

“Taozi-yah, are you on your way yet? I’m hungry. Bring me back some chicken and fried cakes. I don’t want my tummy to suffer from the gruel you’ll end up making tonight. I’m still recovering from Luhan’s kimchi jjigae that was definitely not kimchi jjigae.” Kim Jongdae was one of Tao’s two flat mates who were Korean, the other being the oldest amongst them named Minseok who, like Jongdae, had moved from their hometowns in the Gyeonggi province to study and pursue music in Seoul. Whereas Minseok was a generally chill and easygoing individual, Jongdae was a general pain in the prankster who made living with him difficult.

“Hyung! I’m not buying you anything. I will make an absolutely delicious dish! One that you will have no choice but to acknowledge and when that happens, you will have to treat me out to hanwoo!”

“Wae? Wae, wae, wae! Why are you like this?!” Tao ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket, cutting off Jongdae’s high pitched whining, as he headed towards the cable cars for the ride down the mountain. He was definitely going to make that damn Jongdae buy him hanwoo.

*****

Sehun watched the tall foreigner walk away, a spring of determination in his step. It wasn’t like him to call out so rudely to another, but he was just not having the best day.

There are things in this universe that we know without a doubt to be absolutely true. For example, he knew that his name is Oh Sehun. His blood type is O, and he’s 184cm tall. Another absolute truth? He was dying and there was nothing anyone can do about it. Everyone dies, it’s inevitable, but he was dying a lot sooner than he’d ever expected, even at the worst of it. Just when he thought he was in the clear, that he’d beaten this thing, his body had started to weaken. An issue that resulted in more hospital visits and more testing that all pointed to one conclusion. His body had stopped responding to treatments and today, the doctor delivered the worst of it: they predicted that he had exactly one year to live. Three hundred and sixty-five days to do everything he’s ever wanted, to live enough for a whole lifetime that he would never see. It ing .

He came to places like these to get away from his life, but he couldn’t escape it today. How does one escape death when it lived and breathed inside you? He wanted to scream! To vent and let out this pent up frustration at the unfairness of it all, but there were too many people around and he didn’t need the cops to be called to haul him away, so he settled for a calm outer façade and internal screaming instead.

One year huh. What was he going to do? It seemed like a lot of time, but when you stood at the precipice of end like he was, it wasn’t nearly long enough. If he dwelled on it, he’d only want more time: ten years, twenty, forty, a hundred more years. It was a heavy weight on his heart and he couldn’t share the burden with anyone.

Lost in his own thoughts, Sehun quickly lost track of time. By the time he became aware of the hour, it was dark and his was numb from the cold bench he sat on. Gathering himself, Sehun headed towards the cable cars. There was hardly anyone still around, only a few couples here and there still milling and huddling close for warmth. He hated winter. He got cold too easily and layering up to stay warm was too inconvenient and uncomfortable. He always felt like he’d drown in his clothes if he put enough of it on to keep warm, so instead he chose to suffer a bit of cold for mobility, but he was freezing.

It didn’t take him long to get home; a short five minute ride on the train and another three minutes on foot and he can see the darkened windows of the apartment he shared with his dad, who was currently at work. Just as he was coming up on the front door leading into the lobby, the door was open, nearly shaving off the tip of his nose. If he hadn’t stepped back fast enough, the towering lithe body of the male exiting would have collided with him.

“Aish! At least I didn’t try to feed him charred samgyeopsal that tasted like dirt. Hyung! You’re too much! Making me go to the convenience store at this time to get you kimbap.”

The man didn’t look up at him as he brushed past Sehun, punching his arms into his coat as he muttered in broken Korean to himself, but he recognized him. It was the foreigner from earlier. Without thinking, Sehun followed him until they settled into a steady pace with him trailing behind by a few feet. As they rounded their second corner, Sehun was glad that the foreigner was so oblivious and caught up in his own little world because by that time, he was seriously beginning to question his life choices and his new status as a stalker of strange men.

Once they’ve entered the convenience store, Sehun bee-lined for the opposite direction his neighbor had taken, trying to look inconspicuous and as if he didn’t just follow a stranger two blocks to a convenience store for no good reason. Even so, he kept the other man within his line of sight. Sehun gave him a thorough once over. The man was tall, maybe even taller than himself, although not by much, a centimeter or two. From the quick glance he had earlier before the other man’s arms were covered by the thick material of his coat, Sehun knew that those arms that slightly flexed under the motion of weighing out kimbap were muscular and toned. His chest and shoulders were wide; they tapered down to a narrow waist which then stretched into mile long legs.

Sehun continued to watch him as he pretended to peruse the canned coffee selection. When the other man couldn’t decide on a kimbap to buy and just grabbed one of each, heading towards the cashier, Sehun grabbed the first can of coffee in front of him and made for the exit as well. He couldn’t explain what was driving him to act this way. Maybe he felt apologetic for his rude behavior earlier in the day and was struggling to find the perfect opportunity to approach the other individual to apologize. Maybe he just wanted to step outside his own life for a minute and do something crazy. Yeah, like stalk his unsuspecting neighbor and giving him creepy stares, acting like a lovesick fool. He didn’t know why he was doing this, he just felt compelled to when he saw the other male earlier. Upon first glance, he appeared unassuming, but the longer Sehun followed him with his eyes, the more intrigued he became.

They paid for their items and walked back towards their apartment complex. Once again, Sehun trailed behind, trying to act as if he wasn’t blatantly following the other man. In no time, they were back at the complex, standing in the lobby side by side, waiting for the elevator. When it arrived, Sehun stood in the corner. They were silent during the ride, the only sound the crinkling of the plastic shopping bag filled with kimbap. He watched the numbers light up as the elevator passed floor after floor trying to ignore how good the other man smelled, the scent of his cologne drifting to . When his floor arrived, Sehun was surprised to see the other man get off as well. He was even more surprised when they both turned simultaneously to the right of the hallway.

“How long are you going to follow me?” The man’s voice abruptly shattering the silence was a surprise. “You followed me all the way to the convenience store and back. Are you planning to walk me to my door?”

Sehun stared unblinkingly at the other male, their heights so close that he didn’t have to crane his neck to make eye contact, and pulled out his house key. He walked the three feet it took to get to his own door and inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the gateway to his abode and, keeping eye contact with the other male, entered his domain, soundly closing the door behind him.

*****

Zitao watched the other young man enter his apartment, their gaze unflinching with neither wanting to be the first to look away. He knew the guy lived in the same apartment complex, he’d spied him in the lobby a time or two lost in his own thoughts, but Tao would never have guessed they were next door neighbors. In truth, he thought that apartment was empty since the lights were always off and it was usually eerily quiet.

Tao hadn’t wanted to say anything when he noticed the man following him. He didn’t want to make the situation awkward in case he wasn’t really being followed and it was just pure coincidence, but he’d felt the penetrating stare digging into his back when he was deciding which kimbap to get for Jongdae hyung. It was unnerving and had sent a chill down his spine and made the back of his body tingle with awareness.

Shaking his head to clear it, Tao slipped his own key into his front door and entered into a scene that was all too familiar. All four of his roommates were gathered around the TV in the living room, their mouths competing with the dialogue coming from the TV as each of them tried to talk over each other.

“I’m home,” he said unnecessarily as all eyes turned towards him and the bag of kimbap he carried. Luhan was the first to reach him with his deer like speed and grace jumping over the body of Minseok to make a grab for the kimbap.

“Finally. I was starving.”

“Hey! Those are my kimbap!” Jongdae whined as he reached around Luhan for the bag.

Letting go of the bag of kimbap, Tao let the two idiots fight it out with each other as he walked over to Yixing, who, like Luhan and himself, was an exchange student from China, studying in Seoul. Though he wasn’t a music major, Yixing had a great passion for composing and writing, so their nightly gatherings in the living room consisted of him sitting in his usual spot in the armchair, his guitar perched in his lap. As covertly as possible, Tao handed Yixing a packet of ramen and a kimbap he had slipped in his pocket because he knew those two idiots would eat their way through what he’d bought like a ravenous pack of dogs. Receiving it, Yixing gave Tao a smile of thanks. From his other pocket, Tao pulled out the same items for Minseok.

“Ath! I founth owth sohmthing thuthday.”

“Lu, don’t speak with your mouth full,” Minseok reprimanded Luhan, who had his mouth stuffed with kimbap. Although no one understood the reason why, Minseok and Luhan were rather close friends and Minnie put up with Luhan’s many antics.

“I found out something today. You know the quiet neighbors? Well, it turns out that Joonmaho’s son is rather sick in a bad way.  The son’s dying and he only has like…a year left to live or something like that.”

“How did you find that out? Those two are rarely here and they don’t interact with anyone,” Jongdae said absently as he began stuffing his face with his third kimbap.

“I ran into Joonmaho in the elevator and we got to talking. He didn’t look so hot, so I asked him if there was anything wrong. He cried and it was very ugly.”

“Lu!”

“What? You’ve seen him. Of course someone like that will look ugly when they cry.”

Tao drowned out the rest of the conversation, absorbed by the news he’d just heard. Sick in a bad way. What did that mean? And he was dying.

*****

Tao was putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher when there was a frantic knock at the door. Wiping his hands, he went to answer it. On the threshold was a beautiful woman, but everything about her was loud and over the top. Her hair was a bleached into a near white blonde and it was styled in a way that it nearly concealed half her face. She wore a red dress that was a tad too gaudy for daytime with its sequins and feathers.

“Can I help you?”

“Ah, have you seen my son?” The voice that came out of her was definitely not feminine with its masculine cadence. It made Tao give the figure a double take. Upon closer inspection, he could make out the Adam’s apple that bobbed in and the wide, muscular set of her shoulders, her decidedly flat chest and thighs of steel he can see through the split in her dress. This must be Joonmaho, the father of their neighbor. Now he understood what Luhan meant when he said someone like him was definitely an ugly crier.

“Aniya,” Tao said, answering the concerned parent’s question.

“He hasn’t come home since last night. I’m worried. I tried calling him, but his phone is out of service. I was hoping one of you might’ve seen him at least.”

“Uh…um…the last time I saw him, he was returning home, so I can’t help you.”

At that, Joonmaho broke into tears, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Tao reached out an awkward arm to pat the man on the shoulder, but he took it as an invitation and stepped into Tao’s embrace, tears gushing onto his shoulder as he continued to pat Joonmaho’s back. This was the most contact they’ve had in ever.

“G-gwenchanayo,” pat, pat, pat. How can he get himself out of this situation? Just as he thought that, the other man pulled away from him, using the back of his hands to wipe away at his tears.

“Mianhe.” Snuffles. Tao couldn’t help but think that for a grown man, Joonmaho was rather cute in his actions. “I’m worried. What is a father supposed to do? Sehunnie…he’s ill and he gets cold easily and he never wears enough layers and…” hiccup “what if something happens and I’m not there? He’s my only soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooon.”

Tao tried not to wince as Joonmaho wailed and lamented over his missing son.

“Ah…I can help you look for him. I’m free at the moment.”

“Jeongmalyo?”

Tao could only nod.

After deciding how they would split up their search, Tao left Joonmaho and headed east. He didn’t have a clue where he was going, so he just let instinct take over and hoped to God he wouldn’t get completely turned around.

Twenty minutes later, Tao found himself on the train, heading for Namsan. He didn’t know why he felt like he had to go there, especially since he was there just the day before, but it felt right to do so. It didn’t take long to get to the spot he spied Sehun yesterday. His eyes gazed over the area and found Sehun huddled on a bench, his back to him, his knees drawn up to his chest looking like he was about to freeze to death then and there. Shrugging out of his coat, Tao’s long strides ate up the pavement separating them. When he was directly behind him, he draped his coat over the wide shoulders of the younger man.

In surprise, Sehun jerked to look over his shoulder, the coat falling around him.

“Wha…what’re you doing here?”

Tao shrugged. “I came to look for you.”

“Why?”

“Because your dad asked me to.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Tao just shrugged again.

“Why did you come?”

“Because you’re going to die in a year,” Tao said as he recalled Luhan’s words from the night before and Joonmaho’s anxious tears he’d shed with no qualms less than an hour ago.

“Do you know why I come here?” Sehun didn’t wait for a response before continuing. “It’s because when I come here, and I see these people and the city, I feel at peace. These people have nothing to do with me dying. It’s better than being in my room obsessing over what I can’t change. When I heard from the doctors that I’m going to die, I thought…all the things I’ve built up until now are very shallow.”

Tao was at a lost for words. He didn’t know how to comfort someone in this position. What can you say? I’m sorry you’re dying? It just didn’t sound right. Don’t worry, you’ll get better wasn’t much better because it was a lie. But he didn’t need to say anything. Sehun, whose eyes have filled with unshed tears wasn’t done:

“I realized that I’m lonely,” he whispered into the silence hanging between them. “I don’t want to be alone, separated from people, but whomever I’m with, it’ll be hard on them as the end approaches. What should I do? I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be alone.” Now the tears were freely falling. Sehun buried his head in the crook of his arms.

I don’t want to be alone. Zitao understood those feelings: of being alone, scared, feeling hopeless, lost, and despair. He had experienced them, lived them, and he couldn’t deny their torturous existence in another. A sense of determination settled into him. There may be a lot of things he wasn’t good at or couldn’t do, and he wouldn’t be able to prevent Sehun from dying, but even so, there were things he was capable of, things that he could give.

“Raise your head and look at me Sehun-ah,” Zitao said, as he reached a hand out to the younger man, crouched over and crying on the concrete bench. “I will always be by your side. Until you die, you won’t be alone.”

Using all his strength, Zitao pulled him up and into a hug. As Sehun buried his face in the crook of his neck, a new resolve settled into him. For 365 days, or however long, he will try to stay with Sehun. They will live every day. Enough for a lifetime’s worth of memories.