Undoubtedly, somewhere the gods were laughing.  Moving just the tips of his fingers, Jaejoong felt for the small piece of coal Junsu had handed him the day he left. As usual with Junsu, there hadn't been an explanation beyond a simple, "Keep it with you. You'll realise why." Despite not knowing why, Jaejoong had kept hold of the tiny reminder, clung to it, even, in those first few difficult days. Even now, he kept it with him at all times. And as he stared across the dusty parade ground at a man he'd thought he'd lost for good, he couldn't help but wonder how Junsu had known.

Whenever he'd considered their reunion, images of neat rows of men and a sea of green had never touched Jaejoong's mind. Patterns, yes. Rhythm, always. He'd imagined quiet words, warmth and soft touches to ease the cold and fill the lonely hours, pictured the bright spark of a smile, cutting through the gloom. Sometimes, he'd even heard music when he dreamed.

This, though, this was different. Static lines, straight and solid and reinforced by rough, sharp sounds, penned him in. He was caught in an ocean of grey and green, in a sea that knew no movement except when ordered, trapped like a fly in amber. To be stared at, to be turned this way and that, made into an ornament without a chance to decide what he wanted to adorn.

Most days, when exhaustion wasn't so allconsuming that sleep was the only thing he craved, Jaejoong could tell dreams from reality and wishes from actual things he could see and hold. Right now, that certainty wavered. Not in his wildest dreams had he imagined that fate would do this to him. The quiet desperation that had taken hold of him the moment he stepped away - for the second time - from the life he'd made for himself crashed over him like a wave, drowning and smothering until he was aware of little more than a dusty parade ground, a face that had been more familiar to him than his own, and a tiny piece of coal he could just touch if he curled his fingers.

Every time his lashes rose after a blink his breath caught in his throat, fearful that Yunho's face would be gone, erased by a passing breeze like a mirage. He feared that, being given this chance, he'd ruin it again somehow, would lose once more what he'd only just found again. And yet, like the glow of a candle at midnight, comforting and welcoming the hopeless and desperate alike, a tiny smile lit Yunho's face. And during the whole of the morning's muster, his eyes did not move from Jaejoong's face.

Junsu's gift was more than a reminder then. It was a memory of what they'd had -  a friendship caught on fire - and a sign that, over time, the bright flame of their friendship had become as coal, deep-burning and unquenchable.