Love in the Ice

Tick, tock . . . tick, tock . . .

As if nothing had happened, the hands of the clock kept moving towards tomorrow.

Tick, tock . . . tick . . . tock . . .

But something had happened, and those hands slowed, losing their steady rhythm.

Tick . . . tick . . . tock—

And time would stand still; an eternity was encased in a casket of ice.

Death looked up at the two faces perfectly preserved within the frosty depths of the crystal, sighing deeply as he spun on his heel and left the frigid underground.

Because today—or rather tonight—was the fourth anniversary of the night winter unleashed her cruelest splendor . . .

“Yunho?”

“Yeah?”

Feeling that warm hand tightly holding his, Jaejoong relaxed. “It’s nothing; I must have been dreaming.”

“. . . you sure? You haven’t slept well lately—“

“Just stressed out from exams,” Jaejoong says lightly, trying to shrug off the cold left by the nightmare he’d just woken up from. “Yunho?”

His deer-like eyes widened as the warmth of the hand that tightly held his suddenly vanished along with Yunho’s form, replaced by a dreadful blanket of snow from the dead of winter. He sits up bolt right, swearing as he stares into the dark void that was his lonely bedroom.

Alone.

All alone.

Alone.

All alone. He was all alone.

Because today—or rather tonight—was fourteen nights after the night winter unleashed her cruelest splendor.

“Ew, it’s you,” the old man crinkles his sharp nose, looking away. Silence fills the house as time continues to run towards eternity. “What, nothing to say to me? Even after all these years, hyung—“

“I’m sorry,” whispers Death, taking slow, hesitant steps towards the man’s bedside.

The old man rolls his eyes, allowing a small smile to light his face as Death’s pale hand his brow. Then he scowls as Death continues to smooth back his thinning, wispy silver hairs. “Yah, hurry it along, will you? My wife is waiting for me—“ He holds his tongue as snow-like tears fall from Death’s pallid face. Looking into those fathomless, haunted, ocean-black eyes, the old man sighs. “Don’t be sorry when I’m more sorry, hyung. And stop petting my head, I don’t have much hair left, you know!”

“Changmin—“

“Will it hurt, hyung? Ah, screw it. Just make it quick, you moron—“

And Changmin passed away from old age that night. His last words were, “I love you, too, hyung. But not like THAT, and not that much.”

Because today—or rather tonight—was sixty-six years after the night winter unleashed her cruelest splendor . . .

Death quietly stands at the door, gazing through the empty space at the old man on the machines at the hospital. Gently, he knocks on the door frame, patiently waiting for the lung cancer patient to notice him.

“Oh, hyung, you came.”

It wasn’t a question, but Death nodded anyway. He shuffles to the man’s bedside, standing silently as his old friend takes a raspy breath and talks to him, babbling about current events, his family, his memories . . .

“I know smoking kills people, but,” the old man grinds his teeth, fighting off the hysteria. “Can’t you come back for me later? I promised our Minjoonie that I’d take him fishing and camping during his first break from junior high—hyung, it’s not fair—“

“I’m sorry.”

And Yoochun passed away from lung cancer; his last words were cut off by Death.

Because tonight—or rather today—was sixty years after the night winter unleashed her cruelest splendor.

Death leans against a tree at the park, sadly watching the scene before him; young children are squealing happily and excitedly as an old man chases them around the sandbox. An old woman chuckles on a park bench across from death. She looks around—even staring through Death—and creases form around her eyes as she smiles, full of content and the fullness of her years as she watches her husband and their grandchildren. The old man gathers the kids as he meets Death’s somber gaze, herding them to Grandma. Leaving them in her care, he makes an excuse and hobbles towards the pale ghost by the tree.

“Hey, long time no see, hyung,” the old man smiles, greeting Death as he would an old-time buddy.

“I’m so—“

“Nah, it’s OK. Just . . . you’re not here to take our Heeyeonie, too, right?” his voice dropped to a whisper as he glanced over his shoulder. “Our family still needs her—“

Death shakes his head, staring at the soft, green grass sprouts beneath his bone-white toes.

The old man releases a sigh of relief. He turns, sadly waving his family goodbye as he fell to his knees.

And Junsu passed away from a heart attack with a good-natured smile and dolphin laugh frozen on his lips.

Because tonight—or rather today—was sixty-four years after the night winter unleashed her cruelest splendor.

“Yunho.”

“Whatever.” The young man said dully from the hospital bed. His eyes settle on an abandoned spider’s web by the window sill, littered with dozens of shriveled and dead insects.

“Yunho, I—“

“Oh, save it and shut it. Please go away, Jaejoong. I hope I never see you again.”

And just like in that winter’s dream, Jaejoong left Yunho forever.

But Yunho couldn’t accept his illness or his remaining days without Jaejoong, so he’d escaped from the hospital that night, braving the snow and ice to find Jaejoong and apologize.

And that was the moment winter unleashed her greatest cruelty; Yunho had slipped on a patch of the devil’s ice and was hit by a car just as he caught a glimpse of Jaejoong’s pale shadow across the street.

Tick, tock . . . tick, tock . . .

As if nothing had happened, time kept moving forward.

Tick, tock . . . tick . . . tock . . .

But something had happened, and those hands shuddered from the cold.

Tick . . . tick . . . tock—

And time briefly lost its rhythm, standing still for a beat.

Tick, tock . . . tick, tock . . .

But it quickly regained its steady beat; a tick, then a tock, and again. The Death-god sighs deeply, un-fogging part of the tremendous block of ice in the underworld with his sleeve. He stares at the serene faces of the lovers forever frozen in the prism. He saw Yunho’s face; small, handsome, carrying hints of a beard, but no traces of the illness or pain that had plagued him in life. He looked peaceful. Death looked at the face of the other lover frozen within the crystal mirror; it was his own.

Because on the night winter unleashed her cruelest splendor all those years ago, Jaejoong had believed that his Yunho had died. Grief and insanity gripped him like a wicked, starved cobra and its prey; choking all of him until he could take it no more. Jaejoong kept seeing Yunho over and over again, and in his insanity, he committed suicide to be with his Yunho. But instead of finding eternity or paradise, only winter’s punishment awaited him. He’d erroneously assumed Yunho’s death, when in actuality, Yunho had lived. For his sin of suicide, Jaejoong was sentenced to be Death until time deemed it appropriate to get on its knees and kneel to him. And in his grief, Jaejoong locked his stilled heart and still-living love in a casket of ice, so that Yunho’s life would never be extinguished by Death.  

// End - Love in the Ice

20160417 - apologies for any typos, I did my best to proof read, but I always miss at least 1 typos/grammatical error -.- Thanks for reading~