Junmyeon watched the outside world through multiple layers of thick glass, while his best friend was serenaded by the soft juddering running through the train, sleeping with his head nestled against Junmyeon's shoulder. Junmyeon felt it, too - like a thumping heartbeat, deep and steady - but once he had peeled himself out of bed that morning he was awake, unlike Jongdae. Junmyeon watched the world outside, undeterred by the stripes of light and shadow flickering over his face or the weight of his friend’s head on his shoulder.
Spring had arrived, and there was greenery everywhere. Different plants unfamiliar to Junmyeon covered the area, specked with flowers he was sure people would call weeds. To him, they were just flowers. Wild and undomesticated like the nature surrounding it. Sometimes he logged into virtual gardens resembling mountains, the way they had been 200 years ago. He found it a little ironic how now, with nature posing as a wild blanket crawling up the ruins of man-made buildings, the imagery was becoming similar again. Those were his generation's mountains. Green, with wild flowers and plants bursting out of brown and grey, and a clear blue sky above. And soon he'd see it, yes, there it was - a big field of daffodils crawling into view as the train came to a halt. Junmyeon admired how something could look so pretty and fragile, but also be this sturdy. A pond of vivid yellow in green. It almost looked like the petals had soaked up all the sunlight. He looked up and blinked against the light. The sky was perfectly cloudless today. Beautiful.

The sky was a cerulean blue and the grass soft as cotton on his neck. Junmyeon looked up at the sky, fingertips playing with the grass blades.

"I don't know, are you sure grass is this soft?"

He turned his head to face Jongdae, who lay at an odd angle, half on Junmyeon’s stomach, half on his side as he, too, played with the grass with a skeptical look.

"Stories always say that grass is soft though," Junmyeon protested. He liked it like that, and it had been hard to program it.

"But plants turn dry under the sun, don't they? Not to mention what the toxic air might do to it then," Jongdae added, unperturbed, and Junmyeon sighed. For a while, he kept stubbornly silent, but ultimately admitted defeat.

"You think I should change it?"

Jongdae looked at him with his familiar, bright eyes and shrugged.

"I don't know, I just thought you were going for realism."

He was. Almost everyone loved to spend time in one of the many Gardens, the virtual reality imitating parts of the world they had no longer access to. Many, many people liked to program their own surroundings, too. Junmyeon was one of those young enthusiasts, aiming to get a job at the government's department for Garden Design.

Junmyeon loved fancy, impressive Gardens. Pompous temples, fantastic landscapes that defied gravity and antique cities accurately copied from historical records. He wanted to create worlds like this, and at the moment, he was trying to fine-tune his skills in order to get the most accurate landscape.

"I'll adjust it. But just for our needs, this is better, isn't it? It's more comfy like this," he said. Jongdae hummed, resting his head on his arms.

"I prefer realism over comfort," he mumbled with his eyes closed. Junmyeon wasn't offended - Jongdae wasn't a killjoy by any means, quite the opposite. Even though he didn't really fancy virtual reality of any kind, he went out of his way to spend time with Junmyeon, who barely stepped out of the gardens if it wasn't for university.

Junmyeon rolled to his side and pulled out a cattail to brush along his friend's bare arms. Goosebumps followed, and Jongdae twitched away.

"I'll make it extra scratchy for you then," Junmyeon announced with a grin that was mirrored on Jongdae's face as he reached out to tickle Junmyeon with his sturdy, unerring fingers.

Junmyeon felt the bumps in the tracks as the train crossed from an underground passage into the light. It was very quiet, with most awake passengers reading on their tablets, watching shows or talking to friends through masks that were muting the sound and transferring it to their headphones. Junmyeon and Jongdae were two of the very few people without headphones and masks, and talking out loud would be considered rude, so they kept quiet for the most part. The only communication happening between them would be Junmyeon whispering into Jongdae's ear to wake him up when their stop was close.
Usually, Junmyeon liked to listen to music or podcasts when he was outside, and occasionally he’d talk to people who lived too far away to meet them in person. But their time on the train was somewhat precious to him. The faint buzz, the bumps sounding like a heartbeat, the silence. All this made him feel strangely melancholic as he watched the outside world zoom by, sometimes quickly, sometimes leisurely. He had this habit of closing his eyes as soon as they entered a tunnel, trying to recall everything he had seen prior to it in vivid detail. He was hopeless when it came to sketching the objects he was interested in, but had endless patience when it came to recreation based on photographs.
Still, he'd found out that it was necessary to see things with your inner eye, to have a really distinct grasp of what you wanted to create.

Light flooded his eyelids and his eyes fluttered open again, tearing up just a bit from the sudden, ubiquitous brightness as the train itself was merely a glass tube, except for the ground the passengers were sitting and standing on. Junmyeon's eyes instantly took in the sight of nature flitting by - miscanthus, ivory, curled dock and, one of his favourites, red poppies. Recently, he'd picked up the hobby of learning the names of the plants he was recreating virtually. The terms were starting to come easier to him by now, but he still had a lot to learn. Maybe he should pay another visit to their city's botanic garden to get some inspiration and maybe see a few plants that also grew in the outside world up close. Jongdae would be delighted to get to see (albeit not touch) some real plants, without bulletproof glass separating them. The mere scent alone would be worth it, he'd claim.

A figure zoomed by and Junmyeon craned his neck curiously. A person? Outside?

Whoever it was, he'd caught a glimpse of a heavy oxygen converting mask, but they wore no uniform, so it was probably some very poor soul scavenging the ruins for anything remotely valuable. Junmyeon always felt bad seeing them. Humanity had many big issues to fight, but poverty wasn't one people liked to talk about. People liked to talk about new things. No one talked about how they had yet to invent medication to suppress the symptoms of a clogged up lung from inhaling too much toxic air. Junmyeon leaned away from the window and back against Jongdae, feeling uneasy. The outside world was indeed beautiful, he thought, looking up at the sky through the tunnel walls the train was gliding through. But just because something was beautiful didn't mean it was good for you.

"Come on, sleepyhead," Junmyeon mumbled, linking arms with a tired Jongdae to tug him along. The train station was almost deserted at this time - some of their later lectures were indeed a blessing. Like this, warm sunrays flooded the station unhindered, reflecting off the shiny tiles and keeping the air conditioners busy. It also gave him a free view on the outside world-

Junmyeon came to a halt, causing Jongdae to lightly tumble out of his hold.

There was a daffodil growing out of the indiscernible mix of rubble and grass, yellow and pretty. And all alone.

"I thought you didn't want to be late?" Jongdae sleepily asked, as he defiantly tugged himself back into his side, as if Junmyeon had tried to get rid of him on purpose.

"Look. It's a daffodil," Junmyeon just said, and Jongdae did look. His features softened considerably. He liked flowers just as much as Junmyeon did, after all.

"Yeah. It's pretty. I can't remember seeing it there before."

Junmyeon hummed, and for a few seconds, they just watched the daffodil, unbothered by their surroundings.

"Do you think it's lonely?" Junmyeon asked.

"What do you mean?" Jongdae asked with mild interest, gently swaying them back and forth.

"I mean. It's so far away from the other field of daffodils. Have you ever seen one growing all alone?"

Jongdae could only hum in agreement.

"You're right. They usually appear in bunches."

"It's kinda sad, isn't it?" Junmyeon asked thoughtfully, and for a long moment, they silently looked at the petals moving ever so slightly in the wind. Then Jongdae was the one to tug Junmyeon forward.

"Come on you bleeding heart, we'll be late," he said lightly, and Junmyeon followed with a small pout, craning his head back to get a last look at the innocently blooming flower.

Jongdae didn't want to become a garden designer, which is why they only shared a couple lectures. What did he want to become instead? If he was being honest, not even Jongdae himself was too sure about that. Junmyeon knew he wanted to step into the outside world, that much had always been clear. There were a variety of jobs offering that, with many being underpaid and unhealthy in the long run. Junmyeon had voiced his concerns for long enough to make Jongdae rethink, and nowadays, he was aiming to go into architecture, hoping to snatch a job where field trips and inspections were a thing. But whoever could tell what the future holds?

"What do you say?"

Jongdae closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and Junmyeon felt his stomach knot in anticipation.

Then his best friend opened them to take in the sea of daffodils around him, framed by what Junmyeon lovingly called modern mountains.
He took a few tentative steps and leaned down to brush his fingers over the daffodils.

"It's... good," he said hesitantly, and Junmyeon waited patiently for his critique, standing a few steps away. Only three, in fact, since they had entered the virtual reality from his room, which wasn't all that big - but to him, that made the endlessly vast garden even more attractive and soothing. It felt wide and free and very unlike the cramped space humanity had been forced into.

"The grass or ground still lacks... something though. I don't know, stepping on it feels weird," Jongdae said slowly, taking a few steps to confirm. It wasn't like he'd ever stepped on real grass, but Junmyeon had faith in his friend - he was smart and often noticed practical details Junmyeon overlooked.

"Maybe you should work on the texture beneath it? It feels like even, soft soil. This is imitating the daffodil we saw on our way to the uni though, right? You just added many more around it?"

Junmyeon nodded, grateful that Jongdae was not one to pick on his sentimentality. His best friend just hummed.

"Thought so. There was way more rubble around them, though, so maybe the lack of that is what makes it feel so strange."

"Do you think I'm weird?"

Jongdae looked up from the flowers with a surprised expression.
Then he waded over, until he could step out of the flowerbed, grasped Junmyeon's shoulders and placed a quick peck on his cheek.

"I should hope you are! I don't make boring friends," he laughed, and Junmyeon rubbed his cheek with a forlorn expression though he was unable to keep the smile in for long.

"You're awful!" he said, laughing, and dodged another of Jongdae’s attempts at invading his personal space.

Having someone to keep him company was nice. Sometimes, but only sometimes, Jongdae felt like he was similar to the Daffodil. Not inherently wrong, but a little out of place. The single dot of life standing out in his vast, detailed and yet virtual garden. But then there was Jongdae, demanding his attention and giving him ideas. Junmyeon avoided the other's grabby hands just to catch him off guard and leaned in to peck his cheek with a smile.

Celebrating birthdays was a tradition as old as humanity itself. Junmyeon knew that before people retreated into the tunnels, it had been a big, lavishly celebrated event - nowadays, it was frowned upon to give more than one present or to celebrate in a wasteful manner - resources were scarce and only exceptionally rich people were stupid enough to waste them like this. Still, he looked forward to his birthday - even though it was usually just him and a few friends meeting up and eating a home-cooked dinner. Now that he didn't live with his parents anymore the quality of the dinner had decreased considerably, but that didn't take away the fun. While his friends usually stayed over on his birthday, the day before it was just Jongdae and him, staying up until midnight with some snacks and games. This was what they had been doing for years, so his 20th birthday should be no exception.

Except that it was, because Jongdae told him he wasn’t free that day.
Because he was cramming for this really, really big exam.
Jongdae never crammed for anything, to a point that Junmyeon liked to worry about his academical career.

But no, Jongdae insisted that he really had no time, sorry, but we'll see each other tomorrow, anyway, right?

Junmyeon quickly gave up the fight and cut the video transmission of their call so that Jongdae couldn't see the disappointed expression on his face. Forcing his voice to sound bright was easier than forcing his lips to smile. Sure, he was right. Sure, it was just a birthday and Junmyeon was no child anymore. Still.

When he spent his evening in a pre-programmed garden, depicting the most beautiful seaside, Junmyeon tried his best to feel complete and happy.

The next day, Jongdae insisted on them taking a train earlier. Maybe he wanted to give him a present? Junmyeon tried really hard not to be sulky and smile at his best friend. This was really nothing to be petty about, he told himself - and when he saw the dark circles under Jongdae's eyes most of his disappointment instantly melted away, anyway.

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked sternly, and Jongdae grinned.

"Happy Birthday!"

No one batted an eyelash at the two boys hugging each other, because why would they? They could probably share a passionate kiss and people wouldn't really glance their way - even though Junmyeon wasn't too sure about that, since his friend was gorgeous.

Jongdae made an effort not to fall asleep which was sweet, but also not something Junmyeon would insist on - the other was visibly exhausted, after all. Still, Jongdae played some of their shared music, and Junmyeon remembered how they had saved up money to buy two pairs of wireless headphones. They had to be recycled after ten years, so now they wore a different model, but the music was the same, and Junmyeon was hit by a random wave of appreciation for his friend, who kept silently pointing out things he deemed interesting outside.

They had to switch trains soon after, and as they walked down the rather empty station, Jongdae seemed a bit high strung - must be the lack of sleep, Junmyeon thought. With all the worry clouding his mind he almost missed it. To be fair, there were also people covering it, staring at something. Junmyeon didn’t even consciously notice them, but then someone moved and a big blotch of black passed by the corner of his vision. Junmyeon turned his head on instinct. And froze.

After two seconds of being shell-shocked, he took wide steps towards the few people, discreetly making room for himself to see the Daffodil. But it wasn't alone anymore. Dozens of daffodils had gathered around, all black and slightly smeared, sprayed against the glass walls of the tunnel from the outside - and the golden little daffodil sat in the center. It was... beautiful. A movement close to him made him aware of Jongdae beside him, and the realization washed over him like a bucket of icy water.

"Oh my god..." he whispered, tearing his gaze away to stare at Jongdae in utter shock. His friend just stared ahead at the artwork, a nervous grin tugging at his lips.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered back. Junmyeon gaped at him.

Jongdae had done this. Oh god. He'd been outside. This was vandalism, there were so many cameras, what if he got caught-

He quickly forced himself to just look at the daffodils, to seem less suspicious.

The more he thought about it, the more questions arose. This couldn't have been a one time thing, no way. This needed elaborate planning, test runs, and Jongdae had always been so sure about the textures of grass and flowers, had always had such an uncanny certainty regarding them. As if he'd experienced them first hand.

His friend was a criminal. And now he'd shared his secret with him. Oh god.

"Don't you like it?" Jongdae asked, a glimmer of insecurity and regret pooling in his eyes.

Junmyeon looked from him back to the flowers and considered his answer.

He was scared of the consequences, scared for Jongdae. Confused, too.

But did he like it?

" Yes ," he breathed out.

Yes. They were so pretty and finally, the daffodil wasn't alone anymore.

His fingers sought Jongdae's and for the longest time, two young people stood in the train station, holding hands and staring at the graffiti, as if it had a deeper meaning.

"The grass texture is remarkable, I gotta say," one of the examiners said, and Junmyeon bit his lip to keep his smile on a polite scale, betraying neither nervousness nor his giddiness over the compliment. It probably looked like a grimace. He was standing there, fingers clasped behind his back, in a suit that made him look like a charming businessman, as Jongdae had put it, and watched the three professionals assess his garden. This was it, the moment he'd been working so hard for. He had to get the job, he just had to.

"Thank you - I'm very interested in the texture of plants - I dare say it's my strength," he said, slowly trailing after two of the examiners who walked along the accessible part of his (admittedly small) garden. He'd heard that some applicants created huge, vast gardens to show off their skills on a grand scale, but Junmyeon lived in a small space, and also felt like it would be better to rely on a small, but well-crafted garden with less openings for mistakes. Still, he wanted to show all he got, and the first examiner - a stern-looking woman - assessed his replica of a train station with reference pictures and lots of touching the different surfaces.

"Do you have anything you wanna tell us about this garden of yours, except it being a real life replica?" the second examiner, a much younger, friendly-looking woman asked. Junmyeon's eyes widened. Was he allowed to talk already?

"Oh- of course," he began, trying hard to stay calm. "I'm personally very interested in grand scale, fantastical gardens, but I aspire to first get a good grasp on realism. In this garden, I combined an environment I have experienced with all my senses," he said, gesturing over at the train station-part of his garden, "as well as one I only visually experienced, filling the gaps to my best abilities."

...and Jongdae's experiences, he silently added in his head, but that would go unsaid forever.

The third examiner was a middle-aged man who looked like every cliche of a garden designer combined - pale, scrawny, a little messy, but also attentive and awake.

"While I think we can all agree your technical aspects are nicely polished, considering your age and experience, we expect a bit more of our employees than acribic copies. Though at the beginning of your job, you will most likely do just that, for quite awhile."

Junmyeon's heart was doing unhealthy things right now, torn between anxiety and excitement. The way he said it made it sound like he was practically employed already.

"If this was just a boring replica, I wouldn't be inclined to vote for you, since you will probably be working under me - but I'm actually quite interested in your choice of motif. What inspired you, if I may ask?"

"Of course. If you would follow me," Junmyeon began, walking around and inside the train station, where he waited patiently until all the three examiners had a good view on the daffodil outside.

"This is actually a sight that I witnessed two years ago," he began, and the mere memory made him smile - not a tense, nervous smile, but a warm and relaxed one. This was no technical assessment anymore, and talking about the heart of this garden was his true passion, really.

"There was a lonely little daffodil outside, and  graffiti of many daffodils gathering around to keep it company. I think it's a wonderful metaphor for gardens."

And for Jongdae and me.

"The daffodil is alive while the black, drawn ones aren't, but they're company nonetheless. I can see a bit of myself in it, of everyone, really, who can experience something that was always denied to them through a beautiful garden."

The examiner nodded encouragingly, but Junmyeon didn't see it as his whole attention was on the black, dried color, and the smooth feel of cool glass against his fingertips.

"I don't think of it as a cheap, artificial comfort but rather as a dream. A dream we can actually touch and share."

The designer actually clapped - clearly, someone was even more enthusiastic than Junmyeon himself was - but even the two women nodded, one more approving than the other, which was a big relief. The following moments were lost in a certain haze, and Junmyeon just shook hands, smiled and nodded. His heart was already back at home - he couldn't wait to fall into Jongdae's arms, to see his expression when he told him he got the job.

Jongdae, who always smelled of rubber and earth, and sometimes vaguely of paint. Whose smile was blinding and endearing like the tiniest streaks of dirt on his cheeks. Wild, vibrant, alive Jongdae, a lone daffodil in a sea of dried grass. He lived in a completely different world than Junmyeon. Careful, content Junmyeon who would always be inside the glass cage. It was alright though, because at the end of the day, they would always meet each other in their shared apartment, the continuous garden Junmyeon was nourishing to create a world they could co-exist in.

Jongdae was the daffodil, he was the human, and they'd meet inside the glass, between artificial flowers.