So here I present my kinda "emoshinki" masterpiece lol. I hope it's good enough to bring enjoyment while reading. Of course I wish they'll reunite not under the in the story mentioned situation but under nicer circumstances. A wirter can hope :P. Anyway, I know it took me at least three months if not more to finish it. Mostly because I had another now finsihed project ongoing and university got in-between^^". But enough of trivial things; enjoy~

___________

At the end of July on a dull day the sound of a spluttered motor cut through the air filled with birdsong. An old car crawled over a green hill which the only street in sight seemed to have chosen as an obstacle. The street was the only sign of people living in this region. The birds showed no care in the world for the unknown visitor, happily they continued their daily task. Only the clatter of a car door slammed shut made a few ones flutter indignantly. The man ignored the residents of the forest. He followed with steady steps the small path which led to a well preserved villa. It was hidden between enormous stems of the small birch grove. Hoary hair showed the visitor's advanced age as well as the walking stock he carried. Deep lines were engraved in his face. A face with no expression. Once smooth, flawless and bronzy skin resembled now tanned leather, yet, the astute gaze in dark orbs bespoke an alive mind and understanding that even time couldn't take. Despite his age the man walked upright, head held high. Broad shoulders and long legs indicated an athletic body that in its' youth may bereaved some young lady of needed sleep.

Without hesitation he walked up the few stairs to the entrance of the big mansion and knocked. As expected no answer came. The owner wasn't there anymore and wouldn't set a foot over the threshold ever again. It also meant the others hadn't arrived yet. “Forgive the intrusion,“ the stranger mumbled before he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Unmistakeable must inundated him, generated of idleness lasting for weeks. The wide dark floor was being enlightened by a small lamp and cleared sight free for wainscoted walls, draped with pictures of different kinds. Faint dust covered the sideboard on which lied a bunch of keys. As well as where the lamp stood and a little vase filled with wilted flowers. His favourite flowers. A sad smile played around his lips. „Stupid...“

Roundly he continued his way, switched on light for light until the whole ground floor was illuminated. Silently the man's eyes wandered over the comfortable and nicely done up living room. He could imagine the person who once lived here spending most of the time in this room. Beside the kitchen of course. His gaze fell on a wine glass standing on a small table aside the built-in fireplace. The opened wine bottle was suggestive of being placed there only a short while ago. The aged visitor half expected the habitant to storm in while humming a sweet melody. Of course, it was only wishful thinking. something his subconscious wanted. Still, he believed to hear that voice. That one voice he loved. That one voice which had been a part of him for so long. That one voice he missed.

Being lost in memories, reminiscing a precious time of happiness, uncertainty, sweet lies and brutal truth. Absorbed deep in memories he moved around the other rooms. He ignored the staircase which led to the upper floor. Somehow he had the feeling he shouldn't went up there alone. Just a little box placed on the lowest step of the staircase aroused his curiosity. Slowly he decreased the distance between him and the object and lifted it up. It was dark, maybe oak timber? Smooth sanded, interrupted only by three syllables. “Jung Yunho,“ he whispered.

His heart began to beat faster. Why was his name on this wooden box? As he hold it in his hands he recognized it from the time he was young. He had seen it so often and always wondered what was in it. It was so long ago.

A dusty relict of a time that once existed and had died.

The box tightly in in his arms as if it could disappear any second he returned to the living-room and sat in the soft armchair aside the fireplace. Had the other sit exactly here, had looked dreamingly out the window and reminisced the past? Had it been pain or joy that had been felt? Bitter sweetness?

The lid opened with a quiet squeak. A weak protest to look inside. Astonishment spread over his face, face marked by the experiences of life, as he caught sight of the in a seamless alignment put cassettes. He chuckled quietly. Well, his friend had always been special.

Friend … were they still friends? Or was the friendship over the moment their ways parted? Now it was too late to ask the other for his opinion. Too late.

Way too late.

He focussed his attention back on the box filled with recordings. If those cassettes existed, then there had had to be a recorder. It seemed the object of his thinking had only waited to be found. Next to the veratrine, which took one whole wall, yet didn't look monstrous, stood an old-fashioned recorder. It reminded him of the thing his grandparents used to have. Who would have known the habitant tended to old-fashioned things?

A pleasant surprise.

Well, if he thought about it, in his whole life he had never met someone as unpredictable as that one man.

He shook his head and let the first cassette play:

 

Hello Yunho-yah,

how are you doing? It's been a long time since we last met. My mind starts to get foggy. It gets harder every day to remember the happy times we had. Over the years I wandered between dream and reality. Sometimes, when I had drunk too much wine you appeared – right in front of my eyes, sitting on the chair near to the fire – and lectured me about the consequences of too much alcohol. Your face makes me laugh even now. There was a pause and a soft melody drifted to his ears. Eyes widened when he recognized that song. It was one of their past songs, at the beginning of their career. While I'm sitting here and listen to 'Tonight' I wonder what exactly brought us apart. Our bonds were so strong, we were a group with real friendship, real brotherhood. Even to this day I believe this bond exists and is unbroken, maybe a bit damaged. It needs only a little bit of effort and it could be reborn. Another pause. The man listened to the sound of a glass being put on a surface and wood cricking. There must had been a small fire.

In the night... Another pause, longer than the one before. The voice seemed to struggle to form the right words. I often cry. I cry myself to sleep. How pathetic. I'm a strong man, ain't I? I'm supposed to bear the pain and keep going. But when I'm alone I break down. Does a strong man do that? I don't know, I don't feel like one. But I try, why? Because I promised you. I'll hold my promise, Yunho-yah.../

 

A abrupt click signalled for the end of the recording. The visitor leaned back, covering his eyes with his right palm. Emotions circled wildly inside him. He didn't know what to feel. He wanted to avoid pondering about things he won't get an answer about. Slowly, the old man put the cassette back in its cover and placed it in its original spot in the box, switching it with another one. Closing his eyes, he let the words wash over him.

 

\Today is Changmin's birthday. He turns thirty-eight. Time sure flies by fast. The shy boy turned into a fine man. You did a good job, Yunho-yah. Controlling that stubborn mind of his is surely no easy task. Faint laughter. Somewhere in the background the whining of a baby was heard. Am I stupid for having him sent a congratulation card? I'm not even sure it will be delivered but it's worth a try, right? It's been sixteen years already. There was some desperation hidden. Seeing you only on placards, on TV, hearing you on radio broadcasts, it makes me both happy and sad at the same time. Happy on the surface, knowing you're doing well. Sad deep down, realizing I'm no contribution to your well being. Wasn't I supposed to be the eomma of our group? The last question carried a teasing undertone. It remembers me of the time you described me: cold on the outside but warm deep inside. God, how I miss that. Why can't we travel back in time? Back home? A sigh. He could literally see the other biting his lips to prevent tears from falling. But who says it's the same with you four? Maybe all of you have really moved on. But what does moving on mean? Leaving everything behind and shove it into oblivion? Or cherish it till the end? I don't know. I never talk about it with Yoochun or Junsu. For me, it's something I can't talk about with somebody. Even though I talk to you – indirectly. A smile sketched the aged man's face by the weak joke which faded by the next words. I'm missing you, Yunho-yah. His hands formed fists. The longing reached him even though those words had been spoken years ago. It almost felt as if the other stood behind him, whispering into his ears. Warm breath on his skin, soft hair tickling his cheek, strong arms wrapping around him. With a deep breath he stopped the images from flooding. I know Yoochun and Junsu do, too. Our crybaby wouldn't admit it loud of course. It's hard to read his mind. Junsu on the other hand shows it in his concerts. When he sings our old songs. I guess he waits for Changmin to call him and say how horrible it sounds solo. Another laugh, filled with choking sounds. I'm allowed to think about that possibility, right? It would be nice if it came true.../

 

The click signalled the end of the recording. Automatically he put in another. He didn't care about the date. He was past the state of what was said. He just wanted to hear the other's voice. The soothing husky voice that gave him the ability to feel again. Feels he'd locked away a long time ago.

 

\I'm really confused these days. I'm not sure what's right or wrong anymore. Are we unfair? Are we betrayers? Do you deserve the attacks? Am I horrible for feeling some sort of gratification to see your bad conditions? To know we affect you? That we aren't trivial? The visitor's eyes snapped opened when he realised the recording was short after the break up. His hand moved to the recorder, hovered over it. He couldn't decide if he should stop the play back or not. He was torn. Did he want to know what was on the man's mind? Or did he want to continue to live in ignorant bliss? In the end he pulled his hand back and the voice continued to whirl around his head.

I've had enough. Enough of people accusing me of things I neither said or did. How can they judge me when they don't know me? Why does our fandom fall apart? Why are our fans taking sides? The anger and confusion reflected in every word. The listener wanted nothing more than comforting the distressed speaker. The world is truly wicked. So many times I wanted to reveal everything. Just to justify my actions. To stop the madness. But I never did. The thought of you two stopped me. What would happen to you if I step out the shadows? What would happen if you found out my truth was all lies? My intentions … I never wanted to leave our group. Never. You were everything for me./

 

Tears rolled down the aged man's face. The honesty a cruel touch on his soul. His own self-hate, the fans accusing him of being a bad leader. Everything rushed back, crashed him. His body shook with waves of emotion he couldn't quite place. With shaking heads he switched the cassettes, choosing on of a younger date. He was done with self-torture, he'd had enough for a lifetime. His breathing pattern calmed down when new words in a different tone floated in the air. Yet, those syllables hurt his heart even more. Made it bleed with emotions he never was able to utter. The pride of a man was his strength and weakness.

 

\What I wanted most, desired most were you safe from harm. I wanted to let you experience the greatest moments in life, show you the five of us are the strongest when one. I couldn't fulfil it though. I wasn't ambitious enough, too dependent on you. When I couldn't do something I knew you were there to help. The split gave me the chance to find myself. No, it gave us the chance to find ourselves. You know it, Yunho ah. Even though you probably wish to deny it. I can imagine you tighten your jaw, eyes harden and face turned away. That childish part of yours you could never get rid of. The visitor listened to the mocking tone. It was meant good-naturally and now, after years of learning what maturity meant he would've agreed to the other's words. No one knew him better. There was no denying it. On some days I get the strong urge to go and just appear on your doorstep, cook for you two. Spoil Changmin rotten and pamper you. Do you know how glad I was when we met in the army? I was filled with excitement and my chest wanted to burst when your hugged me. As if the years apart never happened. It was wonderful. We should do it again. What do you think?/

His throat became dry, his heart constricted painfully in his chest. Yes, he wanted to scream. Let's do it again. Lets get lost in each others company. It was too late, way too late.

The next tape indicated years had gone. The voice sounded older, more mature and wistful.

 

\We had what many hadn't. Diamonds and pearls, people crouching down our feet. We enjoyed it. The attention, the fame. We used it well. We were generous. I'm proud of all five of us. The good deeds we'd done. It could've sounded arrogant but he knew it was anything but. It was a simple statement supposed to be acknowledged. After all, they did put the money and the weight of their names to a good use. They were no Samaritan, neither were they Scrooges. They were good-hearted people. They were human. And he agreed to the speaker's next words. And I'm proud of the fans. I always saw them as our mirrors. Their donations proved that. They're our pride. They are the ones who made sure we'll be remembered even in decades as the gods of the east. Gods never die. Even when our lifespan reached its end, we'll live in the hearts of the people who love as for who we are, for our music, for our accomplishments, for whatever they think memorable. I couldn't ask for much more./

 

His eyes fell on one of the many clocks the former habitant seemed to have. There wasn't much time. He calculated one more audio before he was forced to close the box. Without much thinking he chose the one with the youngest date. He felt it was the last on purpose.

 

\I loved everyone of you equally, the voice revealed. Ah, maybe I loved you a bit more. But I guess you've known that all along, right? The man listened to the raspy and broken laughter. It was the same. It had never changed. So much else did. But not his most favourite person's laughter. Not even with age. He closed his eyes as he listened to the man. The balsam to his heart. Hey, Yunho... I'm getting tired these days. I lived a long life, a good life. I think it's okay now, am I wrong? I suffered enough. The fame, the money. I've had it all. More than others could dream of. Have I said something similar before? Probably. Oh well, I've turned old. My memory isn't what it was except when it comes to music. He could imagine the playful grin playing around full lips.

Say 'hi' to my precious ones for me, okay? I have the feeling I won't see them together again in this life. But it's alright. Knowing they live well. I have no regrets concerning that part. That's how a mother should think, right?/

 

The click signalled the end of the recording.

He blinked in confusion. That was it? The note was shorter and he was sure it was the last. Had the other had no intention of giving a last message to everyone? Only 'hi' seemed not right. Not in one bit. The elderly was on the verge of throwing the recorder over when another click filled the room. He froze in his action and waited breathless. Only after the voice once again caressed his ears did he relax and sank back into the armchair.

 

\Yunho... You know what I dreamt of most? Being together again. All five of us. Cute Junsu, being bullied and bringing laughter. Bratty Changmin, acting like a child he would vehemently refuse to admit he really is and snatching every food he could get a hold on. Greasy Yocchun, watching those two kids and playing along. Me, listening to their quarrel and texting some friend void matters, and you. You going through the choreography till perfection, watching over everyone of us with a warm smile and giving me and the other three the security I always needed.

All five of us together.

My last wish that had been never fulfilled. I guess I don't always get what I want. The fans would probably be horrified. A chuckle. Then a faint whisper. The old man had the impression the other hadn't been aware it was recorded. I will always love you.../

 

“Yunho? You there?” A voice he would recognize everywhere asked. It ruined whatever thoughts wanted to build in his head after the last recording. Slowly, minding his weakened body, he stood up and left the living room to meet the newcomer. His brother, the other part of the twin towers of Dongbangshinki. “Changmin,” he greeted him with undeniable warmth and engulfed him in a strong hug. The other man was only two years younger, yet he managed to keep his dark hair. There were only a few strands of grey in them. Sometimes he envied the younger for the genes he obviously inherited from his father. The man had looked young till his last day.

“Hyung, you shouldn't come here alone,” Changmin scolded as they parted. “Why haven't you waited for me or one of the other two to accompany you?”

Yunho smiled. “I'm okay, Changmin. I just listened to him talking.”

Changmin gave him a weird look. He looked torn between insisting and letting it go. In the end he sighed. “It's not like you gonna listen to me now.”

He shuffled past him in the room opposite the one Yunho came out from. Said man should have known the place his maknae would go to would be the kitchen. It seemed to be integrated in his system.

So much like him.

“I can't believe it!” came a loud exclamation from the kitchen. Out of curiosity Yunho headed there and saw Changmin looking at a pot in disbelieve. He turned when he heard him enter and shoved the kitchen utensil practically in the man's face. “Look!”

Yunho raised an eyebrow. Was he supposed to discover something life changing or what? It was just a pot. A little tarnished here and there but nothing extraordinary for Changmin to shout and act the way he did. “It's a pot, isn't it?”

Changmin rolled his eyes, one hand on his hips. He had the diva look down his hands. Heechul would be proud. Well, not only Heechul ...

“You're hopeless, hyung,” the youngest stated and tapped on a symbol in the middle of the object of their current conversation. “It's the same we brought him back in two thousand and eight!”

“Oh...” Yunho should have known. On the other hand he had always been hopeless with day-to-day utensils. He remembers how often back in the days when they had been five the oldest complained about him losing everything and wrenched a promise from him to allow the other to inspect his bags whenever they had to travel. It was amusing and endearing to have been cared about like that. Changmin, of course, took the task after they became a duo. And while he cooed about the youngest open disdain towards his inability to pack all his clothes it wasn't the same. Yunho knew he'd always compared Changmin with Jaejoong and wondered if the snarky maknae could replace the person he'd lost. It hadn't work and now, years later, he was glad. Now he appreciated the individuals both men were.

“Hyung!”

He snapped out his thoughts to look in one pair of eyes he hadn't seen so close in years. They were squinted and studying his face questioningly. Just when Yunho wanted to ask what the hell the other's intention were Junsu stated: “You aged a lot.”

Changmin cackled with laughter at the disbelief in the leader's face and had to grip the counter in order to hold himself on his legs. “Nice to know you enjoy the humiliation of your hyung,” Yunho commented dryly and ignored his group member. “And what you mean I aged?” He turned to Junsu in exasperation. “I'm seventy-five! Of course I've been shaped by time.”

“Shaped by time?” echoed Changmin and howled as he got the giggles. He hit the ground repeatedly as he was now on the ground, his legs not able to support him anymore. It indeed was a strange sight seeing a man in his seventies lying on the kitchen ground laughing and tears of joy running down his cheeks, while two others watched his outburst, one huffy and the other thoroughly amused. “Oh god, Yunho”, Changmin gasped as he finally calmed down. “Junsu must have shocked you with his sudden appearance to make you talk crap like that.”

“Never thought my visit brings out the poet in you,” Junsu said and raised an eyebrow at the youngest. “Good to know you can still be a kid, Minnie.”

“Good to know you stayed the same duck ,” Changmin shot back and had to accept a kick in his shin. “Ouch! That hurts!”

“Deserves you right,” Junsu sniffed and turned his back to the youngest. “You haven't learned to give me respect. Yunho hyung, why haven't you taught him anything?” he asked the leader in a whiny voice. So very uncharacteristically for an old man. “You can't expect me to endure this sort of behaviour till the day I die! It'll drive me crazy and I'll die sooner than planned. I still have to play in some musicals to break the record of the most appeared musical actor. I'm almost there.”

“Drama queen much?” Changmin commented and lifted himself off the ground. “You definitely hung around Jaejoong hyung too much.”

The mention of the man's name made everyone sober up. There was solemn look on Junsu's face. Something Yunho hadn't seen often in the past. “It's strange to be in his house when he isn't here, isn't it?” He spoke in a quiet voice, eyes looking in a far distance. With his dark grey hair combed to the side and the proves of a long life engraved on his slight pale skin he reminded Yunho of a painting of someone wise. “When I stepped inside I'd expected him to rush out the kitchen and tell me in a frantic voice that the food isn't ready yet and why am I so early, can't I warn him beforehand to prevent him getting a heart attack and what's with the clothes I wear, when will I start to take interest in fashion and stop buying the clothes the mannequins wear, and what the hell is with my coloured hair, don't I know it's bad for my head ...” He quietened. A melancholic smile played around his lips. “You know,” he turned to the other two, “he always waited for a phone call, hoping one of you would ask to come over.” Yunho felt his chest tighten painfully. How often in the last days did he regret to never had come visit? Why was it he'd stayed away, even after the meeting in the army in their late twenties proved there were no ill feelings left between them? That the connection was intact. Why? “I don't know how often Yoochun told him to stop being stupid and ask one of your mutual friends to contact you,” Junsu continued and leaned against the counter. Now with the light painting shadows on his face he looked tired. “Yoochun wanted to have a drink with you, hyung. Still wants to.” Yunho smiled at that. “I like that idea,” he replied. “Somehow we've never got the chance.”

“Now we have,” a husky voice reached their ears and all three turned to the kitchen entrance where Yoochun stood, shoulder leaning against the door frame and one foot crossed over the other at the angle. He was the epitome of aged coolness despite his showing age.

“Yoochun!” Junsu sounded surprised. “I thought you come later.”

The addressed man shrugged his shoulders. “The schedule was indeed supposed to end two hours later but I told them I have some business of more importance and I don't give about opposing opinions. After all,” he added with a grin, “meeting my brothers always comes first.”

 

~*~

 

“I feel sorry towards the staff,” Changmin said after a while. They'd listened to each others most memorable stories they'd had experienced over the years.“Your iness must be awful.”

“I learned from the best,” Yoochun smirked. “And it definitely comes in handy. I heard you're a master in it yourself, maknae.”

Changmin clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Don't,” he warned. Yoochun shot him an innocent look. He managed to look like he didn't know what the other meant. “You may surpass all our actor skills but you'll stay the same mischievous greasy person, old man.”

“Touché.”

“Calm down, you two. We hadn't come together for some bickering,” Yunho reprimanded them. The kitchen instantly turned quiet. “Yoochun, have you brought the urn with you?” All eyes turned to the infamous actor. The father of one child and three grandchildren nodded, the teasing expression replaced by a serious one. “I left it in the car. It's more convenient, as we have to pass the drive anyway. And,” he added, suddenly a smirk worth of any rascal on his face, “now is the perfect chance to go into the forbidden room.”

“Forbidden room?” Yunho and Changmin echoed. Junsu didn't look bothered at all. Rather he rolled his eyes. “It's a title that idiot gave one of the rooms on the upper floor,” he said, slight exasperation in his voice. “Jaejoong hyung never allowed anyone inside,” he explained. ”Not even his parents and sisters. One of the youngest tried to and got a scolding she probably will never forget. It was kinda scary. It was tenfold scarier than when Yunho hyung and he used to fight.” He frowned and the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth deepened. That statement followed wide eyes. Those arguments were something of the worst things they could think of. Like some sort of an apocalypse. “A-are you sure we should enter that room then?” the youngest asked cautiously.

“Oh? Still afraid of ghost, Changminnie?” Yoochun teased. “Even though you're already seventy-three? Does your family know? Shall I tell them? It'll be fun.”

“No! They'll make fun of me for the rest of my life,” Changmin exclaimed. “And you're the only one who'd enjoy it, hyung.”

The other grinned. “So you still are afraid of ghosts,” he concluded and burst out laughing when realisation hit the younger man. “I can't believe I mousetrapped in one of your shenanigans!”He looked utterly horrified. That caused Yunho and Junsu to chuckle. Seeing the aged maknae act like his younger self was wonderful entertaining.

“I'm awesome, that's why,” Yoochun stated and turned around. “Let's go. I wanna know what's inside. I doubt there's something dangerous. The way I know Jaejoong it's something cheesy. He turned sappy with age. Maybe he exchanged characters with our lovely leader?”

Yunho ignored the jab, too happy about the fact the established actor saw him as his leader still. May decades have gone.

They walked into the room, Changmin more reluctant than the others. But Junsu's reminder Yoochun will hold it against him made him cross the threshold rather quickly accompanied by Junsu's cooing. The charismatic singer switched into his childish more and more, the longer they talked.

Astonishment was written on their faces. They couldn't believe their eyes. Pictures over pictures covered the walls, some framed in a simple décor, most glued to the wallpaper. It was like a timeline museum. It was amazing.

“Look at this one!” Junsu exclaimed and pointed to a picture framed in white. The other three gathered around him, curious what exactly caught his attention.

It showed Changmin. His hair was short and kept in his natural colour, the clothes style classic and elegant. He sat on a staircase, elbows propped on his knees, in one hand a bottle of beer as he looked in the sky, expression thoughtful. No one else was around. The angle the picture was shot from cast light shadows on his person; it gave the whole scene a slight melancholic aura.

“That's...,” Yunho started and stopped. He wasn't able to form words.

“Mirotic,” the youngest among them whispered, eyes glued to the picture. He would recognize that time anywhere. The bitter-sweet memories of an ending era. Suddenly, sentences said by the members flashed in his mind.

“He prefers to drink alone.”

“We always ask him to come along, he always declines.”

“Sunbaenim says he's the second hardest to meet beside Seo Taji.”

His throat became dry when he thought about his hyungs' fond expressions. In the past he found their persistence annoying, now he wished they'd never stopped. It showed him how much they loved him, cherished him. An unexplainable feeling filled him and he felt his eyes moisten. A hand touched his shoulder. The contact gave him comfort. He didn't need to turn around to identify the owner. Yunho always had had the gift to provide him with the assurance he wasn't alone. Assurance he desperately needed in the past. Now he grew up. At the age of seventy-three he was even harder to shake. Yet, he couldn't believe he turned into the Changmin in his twenties. Just because of a photo one of his hyungs shot when he thought he'd been alone.

“He'd never stopped, even though we told him numerous times to,” Yoochun chuckled, voice heavy with emotions. His eyes glistened. Tears? Maybe just the sun reflected in them. The third oldest didn't cry as easily as he did back then. He'd learn to hold in his emotions. Something he copied off his soulmate. Yet, in specific situations his emotional side appeared on the surface and crumbled all his efforts. s had with amused comments about it. Junsu always the first – a way of payback for the constant bullying he had to endure. What lovely revenge. Strangely, it made him feel loved.

His tired eyes fell on a picture he'd never seen before. It was rather large compared to his companions. When he realised it was him portrayed in the most embarrassing way possible he began to laugh. The other three sent him a strange look, still intrigued by Changmin's photo neither of them knew existed. “Damn, I knew he had horrible blackmail,” Junsu stated when he found the source of his friend's excitement. ”That's probably the ugliest Chunface in history. You'd outdone yourself, Yoochun.”

“Thanks.”

“Wasn't a compliment.”

“Wasn't expecting one from you, Susu.”

“Yah! Stop calling me with that nickname!”

“You asked for it.”

“I didn't. You misunderstood me on purpose.”

“Hey,” Changmin said, stopping their stupid argument. He couldn't believe the two bickered like two little children. They were over seventy, for god's sake. Couldn't they act their age? He answered the question with a no. Back when they'd been five they've been no better. Some traits seem to never vanish. “Does Jaejoong hyung still has the phones he'd used when he was younger?”

Yoochun frowned. “I don't know. It wasn't like we were interested in old models anyway. Why?”

The youngest gave him a pointed look. “Have you forgotten hyung's favourite hobby? I'm disappointed in you, Mr. my-acting-skills-reign-over-yours-er.”

“I doubt we need the phones when he seemed to have our most private moments stored in a photo book,” Yunho announced, face kept neutral as he thumbed through the endless stream of embarrassments. “Can't believe those were the most precious photos he has of us,” he mumbled absent-minded.

“Those situations are the only ones the fans don't have of us,” Junsu commented, scrunching his nose up when he caught sight of himself with his best assessment . “That proves he was obsessed with my .”

“Can't blame him,” Yoochun hummed amused, looking over Yunho's other shoulder. Changmin snorted. “You guys are hopeless.”

“You love us anyway.”

“Still living in the same illusion, hyung? Isn't age supposed to make you wiser?”

“Shouldn't you've learned to be more respectful by now? Why do you still act like the twenty something brat I've left in our leader's care?”

“A man has to stay true to himself.”

“Yeah, man,” Junsu butted in. The other two stared at him speechless for some seconds before it made click. Over the next minutes the 'forbidden room' was filled with laughter. Yunho shook his head at the adults who acted like teenager and ambled past the picture painted walls, eyes roaming over different scenes without really halting: Changmin snatching the last bite of hitsumaboshi from Junsu, Yoochun sitting at a keyboard, himself snoring opened-mouth, eyes surprisingly closed, the five of them looking at a beautiful sunset, Yoochun annoying Junsu by stretching out a foot and holding it close to his face, Changmin sleeping peacefully on someone's lap – Yunho guessed it had had to be their lead singer since he wasn't on much pictures, if any at all and the photo was shot from above.

“Hadn't thought you'd remember that time,” he heard Changmin state and pictured the smirk around his mouth. “Seemed the proverb fits you better than Yoochun.”

“Yah, you brat! Stop making me feel like a twenty-two years old again. I've reached the prideful

seventy-four already.”

“There's nothing special about it,” the youngest interjected. “If you'd chosen the number forty-two or twenty-four or twelve I would agree. But not seventy-four. You'd played too much silly roles, hyung.”

Their voices became dull when Yunho's gaze fell on a photo separated from the rest. It belonged to one of the few framed ones but instead of hanging on the walls it was arranged on the only windowsill. His eyes were glued to the photo, he couldn't take them off. Yoochun said something, voice irritated. But he could care less. They were all adults. Should the other bother with it. Yunho blended out their voices. He was too intrigued by the persons photocopied in that picture. One of the fans' favourite ones. The picture of him and Jaejoong standing side by side, heads touching, one arm wrapped around each other, one sharing a pout, the other a sincere smile reminded him with a painful full blow of the loss he'd experienced. Never again would he feel the softness of the other man's skin against his own. The warmth he emitted with his very being. The encouraging smile whenever he thought of giving up. Their silly fights neither of them knew the reason for.

“Come on Jaejoongie,” Yunho begged and tried to pull the resistant lead singer out their apartment. Their members watched the situation with interested looks. They'd set bets on who would win. “There'll be people you know.”

“Don't wanna,” Jaejoong replied childishly and managed to pry the leader's hands off his arms. “I can't stand those people staring at me!”

Even the other three rolled their eyes at that pathetic excuse. Jaejoong and afraid of attention didn't fit together. “Stop kidding me,” Yunho huffed and reached for his fleeing prey. Jaejoong squeaked when two strong arms spun him around and he was pressed tight against the other, chest to chest. “You enjoy our fans' eyes on you. It's not different than where we're going.”

“Fans and other stars are two different things,” Jaejoong protested, voice muffled thanks to Yunho's shirt. Changmin and Yoochun exchanged glances. If they shot that kind of picture the fans would pay millions to get their hands on it. Junsu, of course, was oblivious as ever, eyes huge as he watched the growing argument. “I hate their judging and depreciative looks. I'll be alone like always and look pathetic as I wait for you or Yoochun to come to me because nobody dares to approach me!”

“Hyung, I'll stay by your side,” Junsu chirped, seeing a chance of stopping the stop-go between the oldest two. Jaejoong turned around. “You'll talk to Hyukjae the whole time about soccer the moment you get a hold on him,” he accused and gave the second youngest a pointed look. Junsu pouted, not able to defend himself. It was true after all. “And Changmin will sell me out for the buffet, that unfaithful food monster.”

“Hey! A man has to eat to continue living.”

The oldest snorted and started to struggle against Yunho's hold. The leader let go when the other gave him a clout. ”Jaejoong! That hurt!”

“Your own fault. Why won't you accept that I don't wanna go?”

“Because I need you by my side or I embarrass the hell out of myself.”

The lead singer turned around to give his stubborn friend a piece of his mind when he saw something that didn't belong in the other's face. “Oh my god, Yunho! You're bleeding!” he shrieked so high it rivalled Junsu's dolphin cry and pushed the startled leader down onto the couch. He ran in the bathroom just to return seconds later with wet tissues and started cleaning Yunho's face. It seemed he'd forgotten their argument. “I'm sorry,” he apologized when Yunho winced. “I didn't want to hurt you.”

Yunho gave him his best crooked smile.”Well, now you have to come with us. As compensation for making my nose bleed.” To underline his statement he squished the older boy's cheeks. Jaejoong rolled his eyes and tried in a halfway attempt to make Yunho let go of his face. “You're really childish, you know?”

“I know,” came the complacent reply. “So you're coming?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not really,” Yoochun provided, a silly smile on his lips.

“Promise,” Yunho demanded. The oldest gave him an exasperated look. “Really, Yunho? We aren't children anymore.”

“You described me as one earlier.”

Jaejoong grumbled something about twisting one's words in one's own mouth but leaned in until their noses touched. “I'll come with you. Promise,” he mumbled and rubbed his nose against Yunho's.

A clap of two hands separated them. “Thanks, Jaejoong,” Yoochun announced, smiling brightly. “Now, Changmin. If you would be so nice...” The youngest gave him a sour look but handed him some money. “Next time I win,” he growled. Yoochun ignored him. He won the bet. Again. Nothing and nobody could win against his Yunjae instincts.

Yunho shook his head. That time was over. He would never be able to force the other to go to a celebrity party or wrest a promise from him. Not anymore. He gambled his chance away. There was nothing much he could do except pay the man the respect he deserved.

“Guys!” he called and was rewarded with instant silence. “Let's bury the urn. It's time.”

If the three were surprised over his sudden actions they didn't let it show. Something else that changed over the years. They truly had had become individuals with new facets and changes. But deep inside they'd stayed the same. Life just put layers over layers of experience on their bare soul, wrapped them in unique shells that represented their characters.

 

~*~

 

“Where exactly should we bury the urn?” Yoochun asked when he came back from his car they'd passed minutes ago. “The property is big and I do not wish to walk the whole onethousandfivehundred square metre only to walk back because it's decided the best place is near the house. I'm old, you know? And I need a walking stick.” He waved said object in front of their faces. Changmin groaned. “Stop being so whiny. I don't intend to make this personal funeral into a field day.”

“I know a fine place,” Junsu announced, a satisfied smile on his face. “He used to walk along the forest that borders on the east side of his land at the small sea.”

“The east side...” Yunho mumbled, his eyes brightening. “That's wonderful, Junsu.”

The other beamed at him while the other two shrugged. “As long as we don't have to walk that much...”

Junsu shook his head. “You two are way too alike.”

“We're not!” Yoochun and Changmin protested in unison. “How can we have any resemblance?” the older of the two asked, exasperated. “He's a devil and I'm a gentleman.”

“I'm Lord Voldemin. There's a difference. Remember the fan's nickname correctly, please.”

Their from then on on-going bickering was ignored by Yunho and Junsu who walked off first, eager to fulfil their duty.

“Who on earth got the idea to burrow something here?” Yoochun complained after five minutes of digging a shovel in the surprisingly hard soil. The strength it demanded took a toll on the four old men who's back started to hurt. They weren't young anymore. This little task showed it .

“Stop whining and dig,” Junsu retorted, setting an example by ing his shovel in the ground, and seconds later dirt flew around their heads; it dappled the other three's hair and clothes. “Yah!” Changmin yelled enraged and through his shovel to the side. “You're worse than Yoochun. At least he only moans like an old fishwife. “

“I pretend I didn't hear that,” Yoochun commented and sat on the ground where Yunho prepared the urn to droop it in the dark soil. It reminded him of raven hair. Dark and shiny, long and soft. “The soil is beautiful, isn't it?” he asked none in particular. The man beside him snorted. “Sure. Very lovely.” His voice was dry but his eyes playful. “And quiet, wonderful quiet. No annoying person talking non-stop, giving you a hard time, get drunk and make you wonder why exactly you put up with it, make you crazy with its silliness and make you smile with its adorableness. And the worst, no cooking.”

Yunho hummed in agreement, eyes on the fresh small gap in the else at ground level area. “No warm cooking is the worst.”

“Can you two stop lazying around while we have to work?” Changmin huffed and put his hands on his hips the way he did back in the kitchen. The similarity between him and his dearest person was bewildering. “Hyungs should set a good example for the maknaes. I remember my leader preaching that every day.”

Yunho grinned. “Now, Changmin. Calm down, will you? We're all old.”

“And yet it feels we're back in our twenties,” Junsu chirped who stopped digging and dropped his shovel. Sweat covered his forehead and neck. Hard-working as always. “It's as if we travelled back in time.”

“Only that we lost one of us on the way back,” Changmin whispered, eyes resting on the small and plain urn Yunho held in his hands, the only decoration the initials of the deceased person. Three other pairs of eyes fell on the object housing their precious friend. They fell silent, deep in thoughts. “I don't think the place is right,” the youngest revealed, doubt in his eyes. “Hyung was a free thinker, drifting through life without the intention being held by chains of any sort – marriage, children, love... He should be scattered in the ocean where he can float. Not in the ground held by barriers.”

Yunho shook his head. “He loved freedom in many ways but he came back to his roots every time. He would loved to be placed in a place he'd called home. And I don't mean the villa.”

While Junsu and Changmin looked confused, Yoochun nodded. “I agree. Our diva was – no- is a domestic soul. Scattered to the four winds belongs probably to his dislike list. How can he return home when being apart?”

That finally brought understanding to the two youngest and they gathered around the gap in a seated position accompanied by groaning and curses as Yunho lowered the container carefully inside the gap. It almost looked as if he laid down a lover. “We're too old for this.”

“Shut up, Junsu,” Changmin mumbled. “Start throwing the dirt. I prefer not to get a cystitis.”

“Cys-what?”

“Bladder infection,” Yunho explained, back in his original posture, and shook his head at the youngest. He was still throwing technical terms around. No changes. There was a short silence, heavy and uneasy. Junsu fidgeted, then grabbed a bit of sand and threw it inside. When he straightened, a strange look appeared on his face. Yoochun was next, followed by Changmin and then Yunho. When the dirt left his hand, he stared at it, waiting for a particular voice to scold him. Of course, it never came.

“Let's put the stone over it,” he announced and two of them went and carried the small but clearly heavy stone if their wheezing was anything to go by.

A single tear rolled down Yunho's wrinkly cheek. “Oh, Jaejoongie..,” he whispered when the work was done and the four old men stood there, breathing heavenly and a film of sweat covering their foreheads. After all, they weren't young and strong as they used to be. The sun shone on the small stone, inserted in fresh filled soil.

 

“Our friendship is stronger than else. Because we're breathing the same air, speaking the same thoughts, and living one dream.”

In loving memories

of

Kim Jaejoong

*19-- †20--

respected member and loved brother of TVXQ! and JYJ

in Heart, Mind and Soul

 

“Somehow it's strange to stand with you three here,” Yoochun confessed, not looking at anyone. “I never dared to hope this day would come.”

“I told you one day we'll come back together, no matter how far we're separated,” Yunho reminded him confidently. Yoochun smiled. “That you said. And I was never more glad about one of the things you did.”

“Before we say our last words to Jaejoong hyung,” Junsu said, “I want to ask you something. Do you still have the rings?”

The other three shared look. Yunho then pulled something out from under his shirt. “You mean this?” he asked and the silver band glistened in the sunlight. It was the ring everyone of them got after their first major win. A symbol of their teamwork and brotherhood. Changmin anf Yoochun followed and soon four rings saw the light. Junsu beamed at him. “You still have them,” he stated relieved.

“I would never give or throw mine away,” Yoochun made clear and slung one arm around Junsu. “Have you forgotten Jaejoong had made sure his would be delivered securely to its own place?”

When the musical actor gave him a half-confused, half-annoyed look Yunho gave some damage control. “It was sent to me,” he revealed and held up another ring. The initials Youngwoong Jaejoong could be easily read. “I treasure it.”

With that a heavy silence came over them. They all stared down at the gravestone, nobody daring to take the first word. Surprisedly, it was Changmin who took the first step and opened his mouth. He kneeled down and softly put his ring down on the bright stone. He then leaned back a little. “Hyung ...,” he started, fumbling for words. Something that happened seldom. “I don't really know what to say ,” he half-laughed. “Here I sit, old and spent, fearing a cystitis and looking pathetic with three equal pathetic looking people.” His fingers shook slightly. “I can't quite believe you've left. Who can I turn to now when I need advice? Your quotes were balsam for my soul, you know?” He sighed. “No, how could you've known? I've stayed silent for so long, yet, you spoke to me all the time. Your talent in photography shouldn't have been wasted, hyung.” There was a pause, then the atmosphere shifted. Solemn. “You brought love and happiness, to the fans and to us,” he said in a rare time of emotional outburst. “You were my angel guarding me, chasing away dark moments. I'm glad I'd met you. I'm thankful for the meals you cooked for me and your silly talks to cheer me up. Or your weird behaviour no one can understand. I'm even glad you were the first to show me what a couple does when they date.” He chuckled, tears rolling down his wrinkled face. “I'm sorry I didn't stay by your side as you did numerous times. I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough to face you after the split, to give you hell only to be comforted by you later on. I'm sorry I only come now, when you can't talk back and chide me. When you aren't here anymore.” His voice cracked as more tears spilled. He took a shaky breath and added with new strength – he wasn't a unsure teenager anymore after all: “The thing I regret most is that I never told you how important you were to me. Still are. I love you, hyung. Farewell.”

s stared at him astonished. They hadn't expected such a speech from their aged youngest. He'd really outdone himself, Yunho thought with pride.

“Never thought you would mention your first kiss ever again,” Yoochun said. His voice carried a teasing undertone. Changmin gave him a wry look. “Well, it was awful,” he answered dryly. What he didn't reveal was the fact he still remembered the feeling of the other's lips. How soft they were. Like the inside of a rose. Sudden heat rushed in his face and he was never more thankful his brothers' eyesight had became worse with the years. Else he didn't know what he would've done. The humiliation. He shuddered. The thought already made him distraught.

“Stop bullying Changmin,” Junsu scolded Yoochun. “It isn't easy to be honest in front of so many people.”

“You're just jealous I turned my attention on him.”

Junsu groaned and stood up. The whole time he'd stared at his own ring. “Hyung!” he suddenly shouted in the sky and made everybody jump in shock. “How can you leave me alone with him?” he accused, voice louder than expected, finger pointed at Yoochun who looked offended. “Did you see that? Don't you know how hard it is to bear his bullying? Of course, everyone of you bullied me. But I liked it, it made me feel loved. Yoochun only does it to rile me up, not because of love.” His hands were balled to fists. In his eyes glistened angry tears. “Who will be there to keep him in check? You can't expect me to bear his ongoing teasing remarks and ual innuendos! I'm a grand father for god's sake. What will my grandchildren think? That aside; who's going to admire my and shoot inappropriate photos of it, huh? It's not fair you leave first! You're supposed to watch over Yoochun and me, assure us and tell us to stop acting like little kids. You aren't supposed to be buried under earth and be isolated and let myself be the victim of greasy doters! You aren't supposed to leave us, to be ...to be dead,” he whispered. “Not when everyone of us have gathered. It's not fair when you're the one who longed for our reunion so much. It's not fair...” He sunk to the ground, hands digging in the ground, head hung low. “I'm sorry I never listened to your fashion advices. You know I'm lazy when it comes to matching clothes. I'm sorry my obliviousness gave you hard times. I'm sorry I didn't persist on you keeping in contact with Yunho hyung after your military meeting. I'm sorry I pretended you're alright. I wished I wouldn't had closed my eyes whenever I saw your painful expression the moment you spotted a poster of Homin. Even though it was funny how you got enraged about their paring, saying they could never beat Yunjae,” Junsu chuckled. There was a choking sound coming from Yunho who's eyes looked dangerously watery. “I promise I cherish all our wonderful memories, hyung,“ Junsu promised. “The good ones and the bad ones. They make us who we are, right?”

The leaves rustling because of the slight breeze caressing their faces was the only sound for a while. Until one decided to speak and give praise. “You keep on impressing me, hyung,” Changmin said and patted Junsu's shoulder. The older man smiled weakle and placed his ring beside the youngest one. They then turned expectantly to Yoochun.

“'One day all of us will be together. Time will take care of everything',” Yoochun recited, a thoughtful pause following his words. “That's what you said to me at one of our many drinking sessions which drove Junsu crazy. And Changmin, too, since you tend to be more clingy than normal and somehow liked to hug our maknae when drunk. Whatever the reason, must have been your masochistic tendencies.” He grinned, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Can't believe I spill my heart out at your grave instead of enjoying the scenery at Bora Bora. What you make me do, Jae... I fear if I let completely go I start crying as I did when we got a great award. Not like Changmin in 2008 though. That was just horrifying-”

“Shut up, hyung!” Changmin interrupted and apologized to his oldest hyung for Yoochun's nonsense. “Nonsense every one of you finds amusing,” said man insisted and continued, “You're an inspiration for many people, even for me. You made me stop smoking. Nah, maybe I just followed you like I always did. I refer to myself as an obedient puppy, what do you think? Ah, I can already hear your scolding voice telling me I say stupid things again and I'm a wonderful individual being. Never failed to make feel embarrassed.”

“You make me feel vicarious embarrassed at this very moment,” Junsu mumbled.

“I hope you won't continue to blame me for Changmin's countless o videos and the unavoidable corruption of his innocent mind as you phrased it when I join you wherever it is you'll go. And don't worry, I'll make sure Junsu learns the wonderful secrets behind fashion even though he's already in his mid-seventies. Better late than never as the saying goes. And I'm sure you know that but Yunho hyung will take care of us so no need to worry. Rest in peace. Your Yoochunnie will manage.” He winked and his silver ring joined Changmin's and Junsu's. They reflected the sun light and seemed to glow, almost alive.

When it was his turn, Yunho pulled off his ring and hold it in his palms. The insignia of his stage name and the group's name glistened. “Hey, Boojae...” he whispered, as if afraid to wake someone who'd fell into an eternal sleep. “Do you know what got stuck in my mind the first few years we were together? Apart your it-had-to-be-fate-line? It's something really silly, so typical of you: 'When I was a teenager my self-esteem was really low. But when I stood beside Yunho and his crooked teeth, I felt better.' Of course I felt insulted at that young age but now I'm happy I was useful to you.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “When we met in military I still had bitter feelings left and wanted to throw them at you. Actually, I expected the same from you. But when you opened your mouth the words you spoke were full of gratitude. Gratitude for keeping the team alive, for protecting TVXQ!. How could I have stayed mad at you afterwards? You're really amazing, Jaejoongie.” He hesitated, not sure how he should phrase his next words or if at all. Once his feelings were out there was no going back. “I once stumbled upon something on the internet, something you said. I don't remember where and in what context – it doesn't matter anyway. You said friendship and love are like a package. Either you get both or none. You were right. I can see the smirk on your lips though. You always looked smug when I agreed to your words. What I wanted to say is, you both got my ever lasting friendship and eternal love. Consider it my reply to your talking a while ago. Even though I'm a little too late...

I wished I'd come earlier, many years earlier. I wished we could've spent more time together. I'll miss you, Boojae. There's none like you and never will. Even Changmin's nagging can't replace yours.” And in his mind Yunho heard Jaejoong's voice, his laughter as it faded away. His eyes prickled with tears. “If only you could see us now...” I would never let you go again.

And against the sunlight he imagined to see a silhouette of someone he once loved and never stopped loving. Someone who'd stayed young and beautiful in his heart. Jaejoong smiled and lifted a hand. Unconsciously, Yunho did the same. His heart throbbed in his chest as he saw that smile. That particular smile reserved for only them. Jaejoong waved, eyes sparkling with mirth and his distinguished lovely laughter ringing in Yunho's ears. Then he turned and walked away. And in his spot stood the gravestone yet again.

“You saw him, too, right, hyung?” Changmin asked quietly, eyes fixed on the stone. His voice sounded kind of hoarse. Yunho could only nod. “We all did,” Junsu added.

“The young and gorgeous man we've all known and grown to love,” Yoochun said softly, a wistful expression on his face. “Let's go. The drinks are calling.”

“Haven't got rid of your bad habits, I see,” Changmin stated in disapproval. Yoochun grinned which caused more wrinkles to appear on his aged face and answered: “It's just something I kept close to my heart in memory of my soulmate.”

“Don't deny it, Changmin,” Junsu butted in. “You keep on eating all varieties of food in hope of finding someone who can satisfy your gluttony better than Jaejoong hyung which – as we all know – won't happen.”

“Believe what you want,” the youngest grumbled and followed the man with the walking stick. After a few steps he turned around and called: “Hyung, are you coming? Jaejoong hyung wouldn't like it if you miss the first round.”

Yunho hummed. “He wouldn't, would he?” he mused and sent a last glance to the gravestone with its blinking letters. The man may have gone from them but he stayed in their souls. One day he would follow. But that day had yet to come. Instead he kneed down and touched the warm stone embedded in the ground. “Thank you so much for bringing us back together, Boojae,“ he whispered. “And you were wrong. You always get what you want.” He placed the two missing rings to their brothers , shaping them to a 'W'. And he believed to see a wide grin spread over ethereal features and a hearty laugh saying: “You should know it best, my other half.”

-End