Author’s Note: I don’t own anything.

/own thoughts/
italics – past lives

After winter comes spring. Without fail.

TOP pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes, his breathing coming out in controlled pants.

"The hallucinations."

Memories.

"The voice in my head."

Me.

"That Park girl."

There was a silence, and TOP lowered his hands from his face to see himself, himself!, looking forlornly out the window.

Do you not remember?

"I don't want to." TOP's usually frigid voice rose and shook. "Damn it, I want none of this to be real!"

The ghost merely smiled, lifted a shoulder. You cannot wish away the truth. TOP watched his smile turn rueful.

No matter how hard you try.

They locked eyes again, and TOP felt a sharp pain ignite behind his eyes. He knew what was about to happen.

Panicked, he turned away, groping blindly for the twin blades resting on the stand. "NO!"

The ghost smiled sadly at the man's objections.

Too late.

The hallway was dark and cold. He felt a shudder creep over his skin.

"Bom," he sighed, placing a hesitant hand on her door. "Bom, wake up."

He glanced at the clock, noting the early hour. It was uncommon for Bom to be up this early, he knew. But something had pulled him from his room, to make sure.

Make sure of what? He nearly laughed at his superstition. Make sure that Bom would wake up with even more anger towards him?

After all, Bom had probably had the best sleep in months last night, TOP mused, shifting his feet nervously. He hadn't heard the coughing that kept him up at night, the coughing that made him stay up to listen and feel helpless, leaning against the wall that separated them. So she must be better. She must have recovered. Been cured. Right?

But he couldn't dispel the shadow of a doubt that crept up his spine.

A few more moments of waiting, and TOP began to grow impatient. Calling her name more insistently, he gradually slid her door open to peer cautiously inside.

Her bed hadn't even been slept in.

TOP's eyes narrowed, and he flung the door open, the resonating slam echoing through the dark hall. In his panic, TOP didn't hear it. The chill intensified, taking his bones with its bony hands and shaking them mercilessly. She wasn't there.

Where was she?

He stepped into the room, all senses alert. There was no sign of life– no heartbeat– unless you counted his pounding one, no breathing. TOP felt fear curl its icy fingers over his heart.

Where was she?

He was on the verge of tearing his hair out when the light of the rising sun revealed a corner of her sleeping gown. He watched as the rays spilled over, bathing Bom's sleeping form in sunlight.

He released a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Bom was still sleeping – she must have been too tired. She was still there, safe. Close.

He allowed a small grin of relief to grace his lips as he watched her, his eyes tenderly tracing her small features. The energy that always seemed to define her was silent as she slept. She looked like an angel.

His smile froze.

No heartbeat. No breathing. No sign of life.

No. No. No.

TOP fell to his knees as if in a daze, and touched his fingers to Bom's neck, praying for a pulse, somehow knowing that he would find none.

Her skin was cold. Her eyes were closed. Blood dotted her lips, as well as the piece of linen that rested in her outstretched hand.

She wasn't sleeping.

He repeated her name in a pained whisper, drawing her body into his arms and cradling her, rocking slowly back and forth.

He told himself it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. Never. Not her. Not Bom.

He didn't realize he was screaming until Dongwook ran in. He wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, even as he heard Dongwook’s frantic shouting, Minzy’s and Gummy’s shrieking, the heavy thump signaling Jinusean falling to the floor.

Something in him had broken.

And without her, he knew that it would never be fixed.

"No!" TOP growled, striking blindly with his sword. "No! How dare you! Why would you show me that! I didn't want to see!"

He paused, gasping for breath. A single tear burned a trail down his flesh. He silently lowered himself to the couch, covered his head with his hands.

The specter closed his eyes.

You cannot undo the past, young one.

TOP looked up, watched the man slowly fade from sight.

You can only decide the future.

And he wept.

Ice never stays frozen forever.

Jiyong adjusted his backpack's straps as he walked, noting that it was a shame that it was such a nice day. The birds were chirping, the sun was shining.

His hands twitched with the need to hurt someone. Or something. Whatever one would classify a past life living in your head as being.

I'm here to help, you realize.

A past life that wouldn't shut up.

You cannot ignore me forever, you know.

Jiyong felt his eye twitch with agitation.

You know what you must do now. You understand...

"NO!"

His shout startled the birds, causing them to flee, frantic, out of their safe perch. The music of the chirping stopped.

There was silence, and Jiyong fought the urge to rip his hair out.

"No. I don't understand. This is my life. This is my heart that we're talking about. I'm not going to force myself to fall in love with someone just because you didn't have the guts to make things right two hundred years ago."

The ensuing silence turned tense. When the voice spoke, it was cold and hard.

You forget too soon, young one, that you are me.

"No, I'm not! I wouldn't have made the same mistakes."

He turned, trying to escape the pain that washed through him. The guilt. It was impossible to determine who's emotions he was feeling.

"I...I wouldn't have..."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jiyong watched the door to the auditorium swing open, revealing a shock of dark hair. Dara blinked and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the imposing sun, shrugging her purse over her shoulder.

Jiyong was hit with an incredible wave of longing, that both saddened and infuriated him. He watched as she turned to meet his gaze, watched as a slight blush colored her cheeks. He watched as she tentatively lifted a hand in greeting, watched as she winced and raised a hand to her temple.

"I would have never let her down."

He watched as she turned away.

Dara winced again, rubbing vigorously at the dull pain that blossomed under her skin. Turning to reach into her book bag for some aspirin, her hand brushed against her philosophy book.

/The assignment/

Grasping the text, she pulled it out and settled on a bench. She had all intentions of reading it. Really. She did.

Taking a deep breath, she placed pale hands on the cover and moved to open it.

BANG.

Raising shaking hands to , Dara stared at the text. She decided that it was probably better not to question too deeply why the text was now laying on the quad, ten feet away.

Her hands still shook from the surge of emotion.

No.

"So this is why you never seem to finish the assignment."

Dara looked up and smiled as Suzy bent down to retrieve the book. The professor didn't seem to mind that she was now staring at silver eyes.

"Ah, seon saeng. I've been meaning to tell you... I understand your good intentions," she said, eyes flashing with annoyance. "But I also must inform you that, no matter how well intentioned they may be, they are not appreciated."

"They're not supposed to be appreciated," Suzy murmured. "They mean to direct you, to help you"

"I do not need direction," she hissed, standing and facing the woman. "I do not require your help. I just want to be left alone."

"He loves you still!"

The was silence between the two, the only sound being Suzy's unsteady breathing. She watched, horrified, as tears welled and spilled over in Dara's silver gaze. She failed to notice the same moisture gathering in her own

"He loves you still, and he will always love you," she pleaded, grasping the girl's cold hand in her own. "He's been through Hell for you! Does that not touch you in some way? Do you honestly feel nothing?"

Dara laughed, and it was hollow and broken. Suzy let go of her, snatching back her hands as if burned.

"You weren't there. You don't know. You talk about feeling? Feeling, when the man you loved ignored you and rejected you for over two years? Feeling for the man who swore to protect you, who went through Hell for you? Who watched over you as he let you die alone?"

She bent down to pick up her book bag. Suzy could only watch dumbly as the girl pushed the text back into her hands. Dara flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, eyes flashing in the sunlight.

"I am afraid, Suzy-seonsaeng, that you fail to understand. The problem is not that I feel nothing. The problem is that I feel too much."

The text fell to the grass with a thump.

The heart is a complicated thing, If one thinks too much of it, they risk missing the whole picture.