The sea will never not be blue, we will never not be here. Hailangs will be always be by your side, going until the end.

Happy birthday Huang Zitao!

 

Depseration leads to mindless and impulsive decisions. One becomes blinded, much like when they are in love.

-Psychology of Desperation by Park Chanyeol

As Xiumin hung limply, chained to a ring suspended in the center of the room, Suho ran a finger casually down the ridges of his shark tooth whip.

“My dear little pet,” he cooed, voice polite as ever, chilling as ever. “Shouldn't you be crying now? Your Yixing has died and now you're all alone. What are you going to do?”

Xiumin grit his teeth, knowing that the Emperor had realized something was amiss and now he had to pay. But he wasn't alone and there was hope, shining in the darkness. The tail of the whip landed on his back, the skin breaking and blood bursting immediately, and he almost smiled.

He was barely conscious, barely alive, as the guards dragged him across the palace grounds and dumped him back into the cage. He landed on the ground painfully and as soon as the door swung shut, Luhan materialized out of the shadows.

Dropping to his knees, the Prince cried, “Xiumin, you -- I can't believe he did this to you! Was killing Yixing not enough?”

Xiumin felt warm hands against his icy skin and healing magic coursed through his veins. Soon, he was strong enough to sit up, although still light-headed and his shirt was torn to shreds, exposing his scarred and bleeding back. He would never fully heal, it seemed. He would always be ripped apart, put back together and ripped apart again. Someday, a piece would go missing and he would be broken beyond repair. But he hoped everything would be over before that could happen.

“Thank you,” he breathed out as soon as he could.

Luhan's expression darkened. “Don't thank me,” he mumbled. “I have to apologize.”

Xiumin had the energy to gaze at the Prince in concern. He was reminded of the first day,when it all began, as if it was ending in a full circle now. “What for?”

Luhan stared blankly, off into the distance. “I'm sorry. I- I can't anymore. I can't go on with our plan.”

Xiumin stared at the Prince. At those words, at that simple phrase, he felt all the life in him go out. He gaped at Luhan, who was standing now, awkwardly hovering near him. “What do you mean?” he whispered. Everything crashed down on him suddenly and he felt like such a fool. A fool to believe he could have been important, could have been useful, could have done something to change anything. It was so-

“I know a simple 'sorry' won't help you, but I really can't let you do this.”

“What do you mean?” he said again, more urgent and frantic this time.

The halo of light around Luhan pulsed erratically and he absently toyed with his robes. Sighing, he said, “I know you won't stop asking if I don't tell you.” Xiumin didn't answer and Luhan let a beat of silence drag by before he continued. “I tried to look for a substitute, but there was none. The only way for me -- for any Siren -- to become Emperor, is to take the heart of a human. If we go on with our plan, I will have to take your heart. You will die.”

An indescribable feeling washed over Xiumin as the meaning of the words sunk in. He was a human. He would die either way, wouldn't he? And if he could die for something like this, if he could become a martyr, if he could finally do something, even if he died . . . but if he died, then what was the point? He wouldn't live to see and- and . . .

He couldn't think through the clashing thoughts and somehow, found himself staring into Luhan's unblinking eyes and saying, “No. We have to go on. We must.”

Luhan blinked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Xiumin answered and he was so sure, the storm inside his mind clearing all of a sudden. What had he been worrying about before? “Yes,” he repeated with conviction. “We've come this far and it's too dangerous for us to stop. You have to avenge your brother's death and I- I have to do whatever I can to stop the cruelty.”

The Siren prince exhaled, water rippling gently. “Oh, Xiumin . . .” he said, almost sadly.

“I've said before that I'd do anything for you,” the captive said, a small smile ghosting his lips.

I just wish I can live forever. With you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yixing was still alive, somewhat, somehow. He was in a place full of grayness, rippling water like clouds and fog. So much open space for him to swim in. He could walk along the edges of the expanse of nothing for eternity; diagonals, triangles, hexagons, jagged lines, whatever.

He was in hiding, refuge, escape. Exiled, expelled, exodus. It sounded nice. It had a nice ring to it.

He hummed. He could write poetry in the sand, with his toe, his mind.

He was so confused, the murkiness was seeping into his mind, flowing out; his thoughts were giving birth to flowers. Flowers of darkness, born from the darkness, his heart.

It must have been something he was injected with, he ingested; he opened up, took in, grew around, swallowed up.

He was alone in nowhere, a time lapse, the blank space between one word and another, one breath and the next. Between heartbeats. They were very slow and far apart now. He counted, trying to listen. They whispered, "Yifan, Yifan."

He was somewhere, a grave for wandering souls. He wondered if he could find Yifan.

It was very gray.

There were no stars.

No Yifan.

No, Yixing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kyungsoo never had a good night's sleep, those dark hours usually plagued with nightmares and drenched in cold sweat. He didn't remember them afterward -- thankfully -- but he always woke up so unsettled. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he would see snippets of glinting blades, unrelenting bars, bloated bodies, lifeless eyes, tears, blood, pain . . .

He credited it to the movies and other stuff he experienced on a daily basis, but today, he woke up vividly remembering the eerie texture. It had wrapped around him like a quilt, then around his throat like angry hands strangling him. It was familiar but he couldn't place how and before he could come to a conclusion, the doorbell rang, dispersing his thoughts.

He muttered curses at whoever would be there at the ungodly hour of nine in the morning and shuffled out of his bedroom

The scowl on his face was quickly replaced by sleepy confusion after he cracked open the door and a pair of puppy eyes came into view.

“Junmyeon?”

The newcomer pushed the door open fully, forcing Kyungsoo to step back. “Good morning, Soo,” he chirped with the ever-present smile.

“Too early.”

“Well, I hope you'll wake up soon. We're going on a date!”

Things are finally happening~

And I wrote a short taohun side story here

Everything's the same, except Sehun lives by himself in a house.