4

The Sky [Pt. 1]

Early Last Words & Late First Meeting

The sun is starting to go down, although the sky isn’t painted in hues of orange yet.

The wind blows through, hitting his cheek softly, ruffling his locks in the gentlest way. Kyungsoo is resting his head on the crook of Jongin’s neck, his pressed cheek snuggling against the soft fabric of Jongin’s long sleeved tee, eyes closed, one palm spread against Jongin’s chest where his heart beats, while his nose inhales the scent of everything that’s Jongin. Somehow, Jongin is always warm. Especially at the crook of his neck, which is the most favorite spot in the world for Kyungsoo.

On his head, right against his temple, is Jongin’s chin. Somehow, someway, they ended up in such position; sitting on the sand with Kyungsoo being in Jongin’s arms, and Jongin wrapping the whole of Kyungsoo’s figure with his limbs. Kyungsoo knows he should’ve been the one who holds Jongin, and he really intended to do so, but Jongin had stopped him and took the spot behind him and said the sentence that almost made him cry.

‘Let me be the stronger one for once.’

It’s good, being like this. For once in many years Kyungsoo feels fragile in Jongin’s hold. For once in many years Jongin feels like his own personal guardian, not someone he needs to shield away from the world. And being in such position allows him to control Jongin more, be it from the rate of his heart beat or the steadiness of his breath.

Even though in such position, Kyungsoo still feels the huge urge to protect him at all costs.

Somehow it’s been the only thing he knew aside of his education, his family life, and music. Jongin has become his top priority since long time ago. He somehow can’t even remember his life before Jongin. Somewhere along the way, Jongin had ended up being his responsibility, one that no one gave him yet he voluntarily took for himself.

Somehow, someway, Kyungsoo had promised himself to take at least half of Jongin’s pain and bear it.

“I wanted to be a dancer.”

Kyungsoo flutters his eyes open. Jongin’s voice sounded faint, it was brought away with the wind.

“That time, in high school,” Jongin speaks again, “before your final exam, in your bedroom. You asked what I wanted to be.”

Getting up to sit properly, Kyungsoo turns his head around, and his nearest hand lifts up to cast Jongin’s hair aside from his forehead. “That was like… five… six years ago.”

Jongin grins weakly. “Come back here.” he pleads, gently pulling Kyungsoo’s shoulder towards him so Kyungsoo can lean against him again.

Kyungsoo settles himself against Jongin’s chest once more. “I don’t even remember I ever asked you that.” he says casually.

‘What do you mean you don’t want to be anything?’ Kyungsoo frowned. ‘Everyone has a figure they want to be when they are capable to reach for it. Even though it’s not their true dream, even though the chance is small for it, they must’ve envisioned who they would end up as in the future. Surely you’ve dreamed of being someone somehow.’

Jongin shrugged. ‘What can I be anyway?’ he murmured. ‘Living calmly like this is already tiring for me, living while doing something more would surely kill me.’

Kyungsoo frowned deeper. ‘You don’t know that, Jongin. Besides not every job requires a lot of energy to do. Writer. You can be a writer.’

‘There’s a reason why I fail literature class most of the times, Soo.’ Jongin laughed, and it had eased the seriousness on Kyungsoo’s face. ‘Really, I’m content living like this. My time won’t be that long anyway.’

He shuts his eyes tighter upon the memory, still as vivid as the sky in his mind. “I don’t remember at all.” he murmurs.

He hears Jongin chuckles. “Well, I told you back then that I have nothing in mind.” he speaks again. “But the truth was, I wanted to be a dancer.”

“But you move like an awkward stick.”

“Can you just play nice?” Jongin laughs, tightening his arms around Kyungsoo. “Short to say, I kind of… lied to you.”

Kyungsoo understands. He understands a lot. Even six years ago, when Jongin had answered that way, Kyungsoo sort of knew it was not the truth. Someone with vivid imagination like Jongin should’ve dreamed of something, although it was beyond his grasp to reach.

“Why dancer, though?” Kyungsoo asks.

Jongin thinks for a moment. “The truth is, I don’t really know.” he says. “I mean, nothing had influenced me to love dancing. It’s just… one day, when I was in third grade of elementary school, I saw a few kids from fifth grade practicing a choreography for an upcoming school recital. My mom – “ Jongin pauses, and Kyungsoo’s breath hitches at the same time. “She… was taking long at picking me up. So I spent my time watching them. And somehow I was mesmerized, at how their body moved along with the music. How they recited the same move as if they were one body being sliced into seven pieces. How they could remember when to step here and when to slide there.”

Nodding slowly, Kyungsoo looks up at Jongin. “That was beautiful.” he whispers.

“Yes, that was beautiful indeed.” Jongin looks down over Kyungsoo, smiling. “That was why I was mesmerized by such art. So I kind of begged my parents to take me to dance classes. Of course it took a week for them to say yes. Maybe because they knew I would drop out in the end because of this stupid heart – “

“Ahem.”

“ – yet they still signed me up for dance classes to make me happy and have a taste of it.” Jongin laughs, looking over the sea in front of him again. “To think again, they did a lot of things they didn’t have to do, just so I can have taste of living like a normal kid. Such sweet folks, mom and dad.”

Kyungsoo closes his eyes tightly. He’s not going to spill tears again. Not for now. Not at this moment.

“You said you wanted to be a singer.” Jongin says softly.

Oh yeah here we come. “I am a singer indeed.” Kyungsoo huffs jokingly.

“A demo songs singer, yes. And a song writer. And music composer yes I know.” Jongin’s voice trails off with the wind. “It’s close to your dream, but it just isn’t.”

“What’s the difference? I get to sing anyway.”

“You wanted to sing for an audience. You said you wanted people to listen to your voice and get touched. You said you want to make songs and be a singer people can relate to.”

Kyungsoo sighs.

“But of course, you gave it up. Because of me.”

“Not everything is about you.”

“Yeah right.” Jongin snorts. “You could’ve accepted the scholarship to one of the most prestigious high school in the whole Seoul yet you stayed at the public school in our neighborhood because you wanted to keep an eye on me. You could’ve went straight to college after graduation yet you spend one year doing part-time job and took music courses instead because you wanted to help me finish high school prettily. You could’ve made it to New York yet you stayed here because at the same time I was going to start my intensive care at the hospital. You could’ve been a trainee to be a singer or even an idol, yet you chose to apply for the music production team instead because if you become a trainee you won’t have the time to accompany me and tests and rehabs. Yes, Do Kyungsoo, everything of you is about me.”

Kyungsoo has enough of it, so he gets up again to sit properly, still back-facing Jongin. “What do you want to say actually?”

The silence is a killer this time. Jongin is boring holes on Kyungsoo’s back, and Kyungsoo keeps on biting his bottom lip in order not to cry. It feels suffocating, how Jongin can be calm and silent after brewing up such topic between them. It feels like Jongin is planning on something that will hurt Kyungsoo in the end. It feels like Jongin is knowing something he doesn’t know, and by the time he knows it he would be too late.

“Soo,” Jongin calls softly, “if I say you won’t have to deal with me anymore sooner, would you be happy because of it?”

Kyungsoo still refuses to turn around.

“I mean, would you please do it and be happy along with it?” Jongin asks carefully. “Would you be able to be happy once you don’t have to deal with me anymore?”

“Stop.” Kyungsoo breathes out.

“You have to promise me.” Jongin casts his gaze down. “Promise me you’ll be alright.”

“Kim Jongin.”

“You need to understand.” Jongin speaks louder this time, although it makes his voice cracks. Kyungsoo wants to shut his ears off, he wants to spare himself from the words that are about to come, but if it’s not him, who would listen to Jongin? “For someone who won’t make it to tomorrow, you have to understand me. I won’t be able to see you again, Kyungsoo. I won’t be able to know what you are doing anymore. I don’t know what will happen later, I might won’t even know anything I’ve ever known. So I need you to promise me that you’ll be fine. That way I can – “

Jongin’s words are cut when Kyungsoo stands up abruptly. “We’re going back. Now.” he declares in a murmur. He has enough of this kind of predicament. He needs to get out of it or less he might explode.

“Kyungsoo,” there’s the weakness of Jongin’s voice again, “does it really hurt to promise me?”

“As I said, not everything is about you, Kim Jongin.” Kyungsoo turns around, looking down at him. “How I live in the future is my own business. You don’t get a say in it. As you said earlier, we are going to go separate ways anyway. You won’t have to know what I’m doing and how I’m doing. All you need to do is – “ Kyungsoo chokes, and his eyes burn in the matter of seconds, “is to go with peace and love and I’ll be here, moving on with my life. Yes, jerk, I’ll be alright. Satisfied??”

Jongin, who was looking up at him, now lowers his gaze in the most broken expression Kyungsoo had ever seen him wear. It’s like Kyungsoo’s words had crushed him inside out.

It kills him slowly as well.

He starts to walk away. He passes Jongin whose figure is slumped on the sand. Tears are freely flowing from his eyes although he doesn’t sob hard enough for it. At the tenth step, he stops. Both of his hands are curled into balls, trembling with emotions.

It’s not fair. He curses and curses. It’s not fair.

He turns around slowly, making baby steps towards Jongin, who still hasn’t moved from his spot. Each step he takes feels like a torture. It’s like he has been stepping on nails, and he wanted to stop because of the pain, but then he remembers that he would walk on nails and knifes in order to get to Jongin and hold him in his arms. So he keeps on walking until he stops right behind the slumped figure, kneels down, and just like what he did when he found Jongin earlier, he buries his face on Jongin’s back, into the fabric of Jongin’s t-shirt.

And cries again. The sobs are loud and ugly this time, with hiccups here and there. And somehow the sobs are affecting Jongin as well, because Jongin’s figure trembles slowly.