[the closest you can get to catching the wind 

is to lose yourself in the process]


--

“Is this really necessary?” Himchan asks as he places the letters in the old biscuit tin. He feels a certain ache in his heart as he steps back to join Daehyun. They are barely dressed warm enough for the night but they’re young and they hardly think twice when Daehyun holds Himchan’s hand and pulls him away from the dormitories towards the old park that lays waste behind Himchan’s faculty block. 


“Mmhmm.” Daehyun hums as he places more envelopes into the tin. Himchan rolls his eyes and grumbles, and you call me dramatic.


They sit on the grass and Daehyun strikes the match, but Himchan gathers enough courage to throw it in. The orange glow grows into a splendid flame amidst the paper and it grows brighter still amidst the pitch skies. Daehyun is holding Himchan’s hand the same way he did when they had just met- tentative, gentle, like Himchan will break if he applies any more pressure. Himchan leans in closer and Daehyun’s warmth wraps around him like a scarf. There’s something strangely beautiful about watching the papers crumple and disappear into flecks of gold drifting closer to the stars. He can feel the heat from the flames at his face, mixing in with the excitement from Daehyun’s system and he thinks this may have been a good idea after all. “It’s not good to hold onto the past.” Daehyun says again and Himchan agrees, especially since the fire is dancing in Daehyun’s eyes and he feels the thrill from the smell of burning paper and ink. 


“I have you now, and I won’t let you go.” Daehyun says and it’s strange because all Himchan seemed to be good at was letting go of people he cared for, to lose them to the winds that rush past his ankles. Himchan makes the same promise because he cannot imagine ever living in any other way. He’s amused by Daehyun’s sudden bouts of romanticism and he kisses him to show him just how brightly their fire can burn and they do-


The sparks are ignited in their chests and they burn a brilliant blue. 


Maybe even more so when they get a little drunk on cheap wine and they’re dancing, bare footed, with dizzying steps and breathless laughter. 


I’ll never let you go, I’ll never let you go. Daehyun shouts to the stars, his words slurring and he’s tripping over his own feet and Himchan finds everything funnier than they actually are. Daehyun says it again when he’s sober and he’s whispering it into Himchan’s ear the next morning when they’re under the covers and they’ve both caught colds from their nightime adventure. 


I’ll never let you go.

--

Daehyun takes a detour one day before school. He takes the bus a few blocks down and walks the opposite direction. He checks the time on his phone and decides he has enough time to stop by the convenience store for a look. Someone bumps into him on the way out, right onto his injured arm. It still hurts and Daehyun flinches.

“Hey!” they both say accusingly at the same time and Daehyun realizes that the stranger has a very familiar voice.


“Youngjae?”


“Oh it’s you!” Youngjae smiles, putting his wallet back into his pocket. “What are you doing here?”


“Nothing. Just- Nothing…” Daehyun say, he’s kind of angry at Youngjae. Kind of. Because he hasn’t replied his messages for almost a month.


“Great! You can have lunch with me then.” Youngjae shoves Daehyun by the shoulder towards the direction that he plans to walk. 


“W-what? But-“ Daehyun stammers.


“Come on. I’ll treat you. Treat it as a celebratory lunch.” Youngjae grabs Daehyun’s wrist and pulls him along. Daehyun is bumping into people on the sidewalk and his apologies don’t come quick enough as he tries to catch up with Youngjae. 



"Jesus! Be careful would you?" Daehyun feels his stitches straining against his skin. At this rate they probably wouldn't last the day. 



"Yesterday, a patient came in and had his arm amputated." Youngjae states, rolling his eyes as he proceeds to drag Daehyun with as little care as before. 


“What exactly are we celebrating anyway?” 


It’s quiet most of the way and now they’re sitting in a bus stop and Youngjae is drawing patterns on the ground with the tip of his shoe. 


“Oh! Me finally getting rid of you. I owe you a treat for being good, don’t I?” Youngjae says in the most matter of fact way possible and Daehyun groans because you’re the most dreadful person in the world. Youngjae laughs and gets Daehyun to his feet when the bus arrives. 


“I hate you.” Daehyun mumbles as they board the bus, but Youngjae has already made his way to the backseats and is patting the spot beside him. Daehyun rolls his eyes and trudges to the back.


“If this is about me not replying your messages I’m sorry okay.” Youngjae nudges his shoulder playfully. “I really am. I got really busy. Evaluation and stuff.”


And Daehyun softens. Whatever. He grumbles and Youngjae laughs it off. 


He has had to assure Daehyun throughout the bus ride that they were just going somewhere nearby because Daehyun had afternoon classes and he didn’t want to be missing more than he already has. But they’ve been on the bus forever and the taller buildings have disappeared to make way for narrower roads and stubby buildings. Daehyun falls asleep mid-way and when he wakes up, he’s still on the bus. He’s nervous and he knows he’s going to be late for sure. It doesn’t help that he’s hungry. He isn't the best person when he's hungry. He’s about to get off when Youngjae announces that they have arrived. Daehyun panics and looks around, he checks his watch and realizes they’ve been on the bus for more than two hours. 


“ Youngjae! Where are we?” 


“I lived here before I moved closer to the school then the hospital.” Youngjae inhales, closing his eyes as he holds the air in his lungs then exhales. 


“Okay look. I’m leaving. I’m going to be late for class and it’s all thanks to you.” Daehyun turns to cross the road, genuinely frustrated. His stomach tells his brain that he should be.


“Suit yourself. But you’ll miss your class either way might as well have lunch first.”


Daehyun kicks a gravel against the side of the road in a mature display of his displeasure.


They arrive at a small store selling stew and Daehyun wants to die. He wants to push Youngjae face-down into the nearest pot of stew and die. But he has to constantly remind himself that he is in fact famished and he would need the energy to kill the said boy later. The owner seems to recognise Youngjae and settles them at a quiet table by a small window facing the streets at the back. Youngjae wriggles into his seat and sighs in contentment, and Daehyun clenches his fist around the plastic table wrap. 


“Whoa.” Youngjae says as he looks up at Daehyun, “Do you ears always turn that shade of purple? Because I’ve never seen them like that.” 


“You’re unbelievable.” Daehyun groans throws his hands up and leans back against his seat. He gives up. It’s partially his fault for falling asleep in the bus but now he’s fully convinced that Youngjae just wants to see him burst a vessel. Daehyun wonders if Youngjae does this to all his patients. He wonders if it's revenge because Youngjae had to change his pee bag for more than a week. Daehyun shudders at the thought. 



“I know.” Youngjae says sarcastically as he signals his order to the waiter over at the counter, “I brought you to the best stew place in the world. Like who would do that? You should be grateful.” 



“You know what? I-“



Daehyun keeps quiet when the waiter places two bowls on the table and the smell hits him because yes, this probably is the best stew place in the world and Daehyun suddenly loses his strong passionate feelings for the class he is about to miss in fifteen minutes. He catches Youngjae’s smug little eating grin but he can’t be bothered anymore. 



“I miss this place. I used to come here all the time.” Youngjae says over the messy clang of cutlery and the dinging of the order bell. 



The place is small, you can’t pull out your chair entirely without colliding into another customer and trot music flows from the radio. Daehyun tries to imagine Youngjae as a child, sitting here with a big bowl of stew in front of his face, his eyes unclouded by the stress of work and school. And with Youngjae’s satisfied slurps and the way his eyes light up when he digs around for another piece of meat, it isn’t all that hard to imagine at all. Daehyun hums a reply, his books have slumped against the fabric of his bag and they are now pressing against his back. Daehyun stiffens.



“It’s okay to cut class once in a while. Honestly you don’t need half the things they’re teaching you. You can handle on your own.” Youngjae says because Daehyun looks like he's about to get up and flee the eatery like a small startled animal. He steals a piece of meat from Daehyun’s bowl and Daehyun gets defensive.



“I was in hospital Youngjae!” He says in utter disbelief, snatching the piece of meat back from Youngjae with his chopsticks. He puts it in his mouth and swallows without much chewing. 



“Yeah!” Youngjae says, a laugh gathering at the back of his throat, “so was I!” Daehyun exhales slowly through his nose and rubs ay his temples. He feels something pop in his head and he wonders if this is Youngjae’s plan to cause big enough damage for his memories to come back. If it is, it’s not working. 



“Ha ha ha. Very funny.” 



Youngjae hunches over and Daehyun tries to shush him because the entire restaurant is looking at them, but Youngjae indulges in his own jokes a little too much. 



They finish the rest of their meal in silence, much to Daehyun's relief and he watches as Youngjae settles the bill. It's the least he can do, to give Youngjae a chance to redeem himself. He doesn’t manage to go to school and Youngjae takes him for ice cream at the convenience store nearby. 

--

“I’m sick.” Daehyun texts Youngjae when he wakes up in the morning with a fever and Youngjae’s text messages have been telling him that he should’ve been up hours ago for school. He thinks against texting Himchan because the latter would probably be busy with work. 


“Do you want to come down to the hospital to check it out?” 


Youngjae’s reply comes faster than usual and Daehyun declines because it’s just a normal fever, so he drags himself into the kitchen and pours himself some water. 


“I’ll drop by to check on you.”


And Daehyun texts him to tell him that it’s okay really, he doesn’t have to at all it’s just a damned fever but Youngjae doesn’t reply until he turns up at his door in the evening. 


“Hey you called for the doctor?” Youngjae giggles and Daehyun rolls his eyes and makes sure he coughs in his face. “Well it might be serious considering you just recovered and all…” Youngjae says as he plops down beside Daehyun on the couch only to find out that Daehyun’s fever had gone away and soon they’re having tea and Daehyun is asking him about his day. 


“You owe me 5 favours then. Since you made me come all the way here and all.” Youngjae says, righteously and Daehyun just stares at him like he’s insane because really, Youngjae had just used him as an excuse to pop by. But Daehyun just laughs it off and obliges. 


The door of his apartment clicks open and they hear a surprised ‘oh’ from the door. 


“Oh! Himchan!” Youngjae says first and Himchan follows suit, raising a brow at Daehyun in question as to why the nursing intern was here. 


“Why didn’t you call me?” Himchan says when Youngjae is out of the house and he feels something within him stir and he doesn’t put a name to that feeling because he has never thought himself the kind to react in that sort of way. 


“Because it’s nothing serious.” 


“But still-“

“Wait are you jealous?” Daehyun teases and Himchan defends himself becaue he’s certainly not the type to be jealous at all period. “You so are.” Daehyun chuckles and he kisses away the pout on Himchan’s face. And Himchan tugs at Daehyun’s collar and pulls him down towards the couch again.

--

“You still remember those favours you owe me? Yeah great I’ll meet you at your apartment tomorrow okay? Dress your best. Like your ultimate best. Okay bye.”


Youngjae is terrible at phonecalls, that’s what Daehyun has learnt. And he regrets ever saying that he owes him favours because he’s sure Youngjae would milk him dry. 


He waits for Youngjae at the foot of his apartment anyway, in a suit he hasn’t worn in years, and he finds himself face to face with Youngjae in a suit, half-laughing at him, half musing because wow you’re really here. “Of course I’m here,” Daehyun retorts because he isn’t used to wearing a tie very much and it’s making him snappy. 


“Where are we going?” Daehyun panics when Youngjae ushers them both into a taxi and the boy tells the man an address he’s not too familiar with. But Youngjae shushes him and tells him it’s something important and Daehyun wonders what could be that important then he realises they’re dressed for-


“A wedding.” Daehyun nearly shouts, he’s confused and Youngjae tugging at his sleeves to hurry up isn’t helping. They walk past a sign that says ‘Yoo Youngwon & Han Ji Min’ in the most elaborate font possible. “You’re joking right?” The cab is still there, the man is counting his money and Daehyun has just enough time to hop back on and drive as far away from here as he wants.


“My brother is getting married.” Youngjae smiles as he signs the guestbook and places the invitation card in his hands addressed to Yoo Youngjae and a guest. “My parents wanted for me to bring a girl. Like that’s ever gonna happen.” Youngjae laughs and drags Daehyun off to where his parents were standing at the flower arch and greeting guests.


“Mom. Dad.” Youngjae greets, the air of defiance lingering in the weight of his words as he takes in his parents disapproval. 


“Oh Youngjae, it’s you.” His mother says, but she focuses her attention instead on Daehyun who’s attempting to shrink himself behind Youngjae. “And who’s this?” she says, as her husband purses her lips into a fine line so much so that they disappear into his cheeks. 


“This,” Youngjae pulls Daehyun forward and the brunette is now shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “This is Daehyun.” He says simply and tells his parents that they have to take their seats soon. 


“You brought me here to spite your parents?” Daehyun hisses when they’re sitting near the isles and Youngjae is wearing a smug expression on his face that he just wants to wipe clean. 


“There’s sort of a party after, it’ll be fun.” Youngjae smiles and ruffles Daehyun’s hair, marvelling in his annoyance because Daehyun had been up especially early to fix his hair. He’s quiet for most of the ceremony, especially so when the groom sees him and looks at him then at Youngjae then at him incredulously and he just wants to disappear into the bathrooms forever. But he stays to watch Youngwon roll his eyes when Youngjae jokingly leans into Daehyun’s shoulder and snuggles up to him. 


“He dragged you into this?” They’re at the party, the whole club was theirs and Youngwon had found them in the club and now he’s attempting to shout past the music. Daehyun nods vigorously and Youngjae almost looks betrayed. 


“Well, since you’re here just try and have fun.” He pats Daehyun on his shoulder and Daehyun congratulates him on his wedding. Youngjae laughs at him after.


“What? It’s a normal thing to say at weddings.”


“Yes, but marriage is a curse. You should tell my brother to enjoy himself while it lasts.” Youngjae laughs, it sounds bright even past the heavy beats and distorted melodies. 


He drags Daehyun to the dance floor somewhere in the middle of the night when they’re both buzzing after their fourth drinks when Youngjae is starting to find everything funny and Daehyun is too high to care about the strange stares they were getting from the other guests. When the music changes to something slower, Youngjae pulls Daehyun towards the bar but Daehyun stays rooted to the ground like he just thought of something. “We could dance,” he says and the words feel disjointed as they slip past his lips because he’s seeing the club convex and concave and burst into a myriad of colours. And Youngjae smiles, okay, he says softly, okay, he repeats as he stumbles towards Daehyun. They’re rocking back and forth awkwardly and they have stepped out of sync with the music but it doesn’t matter to either of them. “If you lean back, I’ll catch you.” Daehyun says as the song neared its end and Youngjae does just that and it feels funny but he’s laughing again and Daehyun just smiles because there’s that strange tugging at his heart again and he’s not too sure if it’s the alcohol. But he feels it again when they’re on their way home after dancing the whole night and Daehyun thanks Youngjae because really, he had fun and Youngjae is looking at him with that same mix of awe and leftover epinephrine. 


And he feels it the next morning in the form of a headache and a text from Youngjae reminding him that he should probably take an Advil and have some soup. 




--
It’s nine when Daehyun holds Himchan’s hand and leads him to the train station to catch the last train to Busan. It’s cold out and Daehyun should probably be studying for the test he has in a few days but they’re in the train and Himchan is trying to find the right words to describe the world as it passes his window in sheets of monochrome. 

It’s past midnight and they’re on the beach, the wind is tearing at their skin and the waves come dangerously close to their bare feet. 

“This is crazy.” Himchan laughs because his voice comes in stammers. He’s shivering from the cold dampness of the sand beneath his feet and Daehyun wraps his jacket over the both of them. They walk away from the shore and they stop when the water comes mid-way up their calves. Himchan looks at Daehyun and sees the first time they met. 

“Daehyun,” he whispers and Daehyun hums a response. It’s quiet save for the gentle pull of the waves but they hear fireworks hidden in one another’s chests. “Just wanted to know it’s you.” 

It is. Of course it is.


And Himchan forgets about the cold that’s seeping into his bones. They write the date in the sand. But Himchan was 21 and he doesn’t look back. He doesn’t see the waves flooding over the digits in the sand. 


--
Youngjae has a strange fervour for claiming his favours in the most unconventional way possible. “We have to get drunk by noon. So drink up.” Youngjae chides as he orders another shot and pushes it towards Daehyun. And Daehyun obliges because bad ideas are always the best somehow.


“I’m all for doing stupid things but why are we doing this again?”


“I don’t know. It’s an experience I guess.” There’s a sliver of a sly smile on Youngjae’s lips and Daehyun just shakes his head and toys with the shot glass in his hand. 


A man walks into the bar and Daehyun is about to tell Youngjae a pointless unfunny joke about a bald man who walks into a bar when the man starts shouting his orders at the waitress. 


“Excuse me sir, but you don’t talk to people like that.” Youngjae stands to his feet and nearly knocks over the bar stool in the process and he’s trying to keep his balance as he walks towards the man. , Daehyun thinks because of all the people Youngjae chooses to pick a fight with he had to choose the biggest one. 


The man shouts something incoherent at Youngjae but his posture remains defiant. His shoulders tense and his nose in the air and Daehyun thinks it’s adorable really. Stupid, yes. But adorable. Daehyun is on his feet when the man is about to stand and soon his hand is grabbing the collar of his shirt and he thanks whatever god there is up there that the last shot gave him just enough courage. And the man sits, leaving a very happy Youngjae trailing behind him back to their seats. 


“You were great,” Youngjae is beaming now, “never knew you had it in you.” 


Youngjae grabs Daehyun’s arm before he can continue and pulls him out the bar. “I feel like the defenders of justice right now. Like we could go off and solve crimes and avenge the weak and you could kill them all with your bare hands.” He’s literally bouncing and his hair slaps against his forehead. 


“But for now I wanna play some Bingo.” 


They arrive at the Bingo place and Daehyun thinks he’s probably never seen so many old people in one place before. “Why are we playing this game?” Daehyun bows awkwardly at the various people giving them awed looks. 


“Because the nice old man who was admitted yesterday told me I should try it sometime. He said he goes with his wife sometimes. Did you know it’s apparently a very popular game amongst couples?” 


Daehyun looks at Youngjae but he has his eyes trained on his card and Daehyun tries not to think much of anything Youngjae is saying because he’s evidently high from the way he shouts Bingo too loudly even when he has only two numbers marked out on his card. 




--
The next time they go out they’re at the museum and Daehyun tries not to laugh when Youngjae squints his eyes and bends too far towards the exhibit to try and read what’s displayed. They’re on a museum date, as Youngjae calls it. And one part of Daehyun wants to reach out to hold Youngjae’s hand as they wander through the exhibits. And another part of him takes a hard fall when Youngjae asks him if he knew stag beetles have only one mate for life and that they would die after mating. Tragically beautiful isn’t it? They’re not even allowed to love any other beetle, they’d just die after loving one. 


“I just ing wanna be a beetle right now.” Youngjae says when they’re sitting on a bench in the textile and fabric exhibit (no one is usually there). “But then we wouldn’t have met if we really were stag beetles, would we.” He smiles and there’s a certain sadness behind that smile and Daehyun wants to do something, anything. But all he does is nod because it wouldn’t be right. 


Yeah. Daehyun sighs. Pretty ing tragic.


--

Himchan's stumbles across his favourite piece of writing on a forum review. He filters through the comments on the small, unimpressive cafe in Paris and he sees it- the mass of words and spaces under the string of words in itallics-



le temps des amoureux.



Lover's time. The man in the writing sits at the cafe, back turned towards the door and fingers tracing the warmth of his coffee cup. The smell clings to the threads of his shirt and he watches as the world passes before him behind the window. He presses the cup against his lips and the coffee burns his tongue. He cringes at the pain and he's reminded of the barbwire chain his wife has coiled around his heart when she left him. He sees her standing at the door, suitcase shabbily packed, face twisted in anger and disappointment and the realisation that their thirty years of marriage has boiled down to this moment. He lets her leave- he can no longer do anything to keep her. He remembers the vow he took in the chapel and thinks that maybe words weren't enough to carry their love that far. 



Because time is erosive and people aren't made to last. 



He takes another sip and he's young again, the ache in his bones has been lifted and his lungs aren't tattered by the winds. It's his wedding and he's dancing with his new wife. She has one end of her dress in her hand and her other hand on his shoulder and she's smiling at him. Even then she had something hidden behind her eyes that he couldn't read. He never did manage to figure out what it was until the day she left. The polka accelerates into a chorus of hot trumpets and saxes and he hasn't met his wife to be. He's watching as the girl dances like a fox around his chair and he's mesmerised. He takes her to his place that night and lets her stay the night. He wonders if that means anything- then again maybe not. Maybe it had been the second, third, fourth times that mattered. 



He takes another sip and he hears the drawl of carnival music. The most beautiful girl he has ever seen is standing in front of him, her eyes as clear as the skies and she's holding his hand tight as they make their way through the throngs of people. She's wearing his school pin on her blouse and he feels dizzy. They kiss on the pier, with their legs hanging over the edge, the carnival screams behind them but it's quiet for a while and he feels the same potent silence in the café. When they pull apart he thinks maybe he can never find another person to love as much. Because people aren't made to last and he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. And in that moment, somewhere between first-kiss-nervousness and teenage infatuation, time freezes and she's here with him in the unseeming café. He's the scrawny boy who lives a little down the street and she's his first love- the only girl he's ever loved. She's laughing at something he did and he feels the same warmth burning in his chest. Time stops and the café waits in baited breath as he reaches out to hold her hand. 



He does-



And this time he doesn't let go.



--

“What are you doing?” Himchan returns home to see Daehyun sitting on the ground in his balcony. He’s hollowing his cheeks and the light of the cigarette burns vivid orange. He coughs when he exhales and attempts to hide his cigarette when he sees Himchan but Himchan snatches the cigarette from his hand before he does something stupid. And it’s only then does he notice how tired Daehyun looks past the blurring trails of smoke. His breathing is shallow and he’s trying to retain the taste of nicotine on his tongue. “I’m sorry,” Daehyun’s smile is a sad one and Himchan feels his heart break. 


“Oh Daehyun.” Himchan kneels in front of him, “oh baby. It doesn’t work like this.” He says and feels something inside him crumble irreversibly and he thinks it would be easy to end this, feel his body shatter as it hits the ground fourteen floors below. But he pulls Daehyun into a hug, and he sinks into the feeling but he feels himself teetering on the edge of something he cannot comprehend. 


“I just want to remember again.” Daehyun sighs.


And he reminds himself just that when he’s kissing Himchan and their breathing clashes with the quietness of dusk and Himchan has to remind himself it’s dusk because he feels the sun burning behind his lids. Daehyun has him against the wall and Himchan’s hands are in his hair because Daehyun is leaving bruising purple marks from his neck down to his collarbone and it’s getting hard to stand on his feet. Daehyun tastes blood on his tongue when they pull apart to breathe and he wonders if they’ve always been this tactile and volatile. If they’ve always crashed and burned this violently. They’re bare to the skin now and Daehyun feels claustrophobic. He tries to connect the space between the void but all he sees is a path. 


Daehyun closes his eyes and his body stiffens and Himchan tries to remember how they got this far in the first place. “Daehyun you don’t have to-“


I’m sorry. Daehyun apologises again and again and Himchan leaves red crescent marks on his wrist with pressure from his nails. He thinks about the things Youngjae had said to him and he would be glad to trade the notion of growing old with a quick and painless death in his sleep. The familiarity of skin on skin fades from the room and they’re standing amidst the backdrop of another forcast of winds and rain. 


Daehyun.


And Daehyun doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know who he is anymore. He feels the trees growing in on him and they block out the limited amount of light coming from the streetlights behind the blinds.