Colorblind

 

 

Jongin × Kyungsoo

 

 

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch your soulmate.

 

For Jongin, the idea was beautiful. Heartwarming. You need to meet your soulmate and hold their hand to be able to see in colors. The world literally becomes more beautiful once you’ve found your pair. Everything will be in details. The sky would be blue, not a light shade of gray. The bushes of roses at the backyard of his house would be a rough mixture of greens and reds instead of greys and darker greys. The color of the wall in his bedroom would be soft cream instead of white. The jars in the cupboard would not be labelled each because he’d be able to tell which one is sugar just by its color. Or so what his mother always told him whenever he asked.

 

Along his whole life, Jongin has been aspiring to see colors. Which means he has been so eager to find his soulmate. His pair. The one who will color his world. The one whom he’d share his favorite color with. Of course he becomes the guy who is always warm and full of smiles with others. Everybody adores him. The boy with such bright smile, they said it’s almost like he doesn’t need to see colors to be happy. His mother always reminded him that the colors don’t matter the most; loving your soulmate sincerely does. But even with that, he still wishes every night, that every day he passes would bring him closer to his soulmate and tell colors with them.

 

Jongin is warm, full of smiles, full of dreams, full of compassion. Most of all, he really wants to meet his soulmate and see colors.

 

Thus, when he meets the boy who was born with the ability to see colors since birth, who is as silent as everybody’s shadow, who never smiles, Jongin is immediately drawn in.

 

=

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch with your soulmate.

 

That should’ve been the case. And it has been the case, with everyone. Except for Kyungsoo.

 

He doesn’t know the reason, nor did he ask for it. He was born with the natural ability to see colors. As far back as he could remember, he had been seeing colors during his entire existence. He had known for long that his father loves to wear blue shirts. He also loves to see his mother’s paintings that are displayed in their living rooms, seeing the mixture of thousands of colors. There used to be no labelled stuffs in their kitchen, until her mother passed away when he was seventeen, causing his father to start seeing in monochrome again.

 

They said he’s been lucky. That’s the first thought anyone would have once they figured out Kyungsoo could see colors yet haven’t even met his soulmate yet. He was born with it. But being a different case from anybody else was what Kyungsoo always loathed about himself. He’s been an anomaly. It’s an irony. In the world where everyone wants to see colors, he doesn’t even find the excitement in it. It’s a normal thing for him. He never got to cherish the colors the way everybody does.

 

That, and he’d never be able to tell who his soulmate is. Nothing would happen even if he touches them. Kyungsoo had stopped caring about it long ago; he’d not need to worry about that when he doesn’t even have one dear friend.

 

Kyungsoo is cold, with lips always pressed in a thin line, no specific interest in wondering about his future, and no particular will in involving himself with someone. He just lives. Exists.

 

Thus, when he meets the guy with a bright smile and a bubbling aspiration to see in colors, Kyungsoo didn’t expect himself to be drawn in.

 

=

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch with your soulmate.

 

Jongin always loved it. Kyungsoo always hated it.

 

‘Why?’ Jongin braves himself to ask one day, in a whisper, as they’re sitting at one of the desks in the library, books opened in front of them, the sunlight shining through the tall window next to them. ‘Why do you hate it so much when everybody wants to have what you have?’

 

‘Why?’ Kyungsoo asks in reply. ‘Why should I be concerned with it when I don’t even want it?’

 

Then Jongin learns that if he was Kyungsoo, of course he’d hate it, the way the world works. Of course he’d be resentful if he’s the only one who is different from anyone else, who claimed him to be lucky but deserted him as a reaction. Kyungsoo must’ve felt lonely this whole time; everyone around him must’ve been punishing him for something he wasn’t even guilty for out of their jealousy.

 

And Kyungsoo learns that Jongin is just being humane. He had learnt about monochromacy, and he admits that colors are much better than it. Everybody wants to see beautiful things. Not to mention that the ability to see colors comes with your heart’s pair. It really is a beautiful concept. And for someone like Jongin, whose heart is enormous and gentle, it’s a given that he’d get drunk in it. And he, finally, sees nothing harmful in it. It’s not a harm to wish for good things.

 

‘Am I bleeding?’ Jongin asks out of sudden, nudging at his knuckles.

 

Kyungsoo finds that Jongin is indeed bleeding. He must’ve rammed his knuckles against the sharp tip of some book. Out of impulse, Kyungsoo holds Jongin’s hand to examine the cut. After realizing what he has done, his breath hitches. He’s not aware that Jongin, too, is holding his breath.

 

But they brush off the weird feelings. Kyungsoo takes out some tissue to wipe the blood away, and Jongin just stares at the amount of blood on his knuckle because ‘I want to know how red the blood is.’

 

They’re not each other’s soulmate. At least that’s what Kyungsoo gets from Jongin’s reaction, and shades of greys are still in Jongin’s sight.

 

But their hearts, without each other knowing, skip two beats the moment their hands touch.

 

=

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch with your soulmate.

 

For Jongin, it’s like his turn is still a century away.

 

So for the fiery, hopeful soul, Kyungsoo tells everything he could about colors. He explains to Jongin that the skies aren’t always in one shade of blue. They’re not always in blue. They’re faint blue when it’s cloudy, clear baby blue in the middle of summer, gloomy white and grey when it’s raining, purplish with hints of lilacs when the sun sets and rises. He tells Jongin that his favorite pair of jeans aren’t even in one shade of blue. He tells Jongin about the obnoxious green the outdoor basketball court is painted in. He tells Jongin how fun it is to highlight notes with neon color pens.

 

And Jongin always listens with full attention. He always marvels at Kyungsoo’s explanation about everything. First, he falls in love with the way Kyungsoo describe the colors, then slowly, he falls in love with the glint in Kyungsoo’s eyes as he does it. For someone who claims to be indifferent about his ability of seeing colors, Kyungsoo always seems like he’s giving his whole heart out while talking about them.

 

He mentions that to Kyungsoo, and after a moment of silence, Kyungsoo softly says, ‘it’s surprisingly fun to talk about colors with someone who never saw them’. And Kyungsoo tells Jongin about his father, who once lived in a colorful world until his mother passed away. Jongin thinks it’s cruel, how the colors would be taken away along with your soulmate once they die. And then he understands more, why Kyungsoo couldn’t see the joy in colors like he did.

 

‘Tell me more.’ Jongin says to Kyungsoo. ‘They sound more beautiful when you’re the one describing them.’

 

They started out as two opposite poles. One is everyone’s favorite, the other one is an anomaly in the society. One is as bright as the sun, the other one is as faint as the moon.

 

They’re not each other’s soulmate.

 

But they fall in love.

 

After all, love doesn’t come from the eyes.

 

=

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch with your soulmate.

 

When you touch your soulmate, you’ll begin to see colors.

 

Jongin starts to ask himself; which one was he desperate for? Meeting the pair of his heart, or seeing the world in colors?

 

Because now, none of them seems clear in his mind.

 

Now all he sees is Kyungsoo. Just Kyungsoo. Just the gentle smile on Kyungsoo’s heart-shaped lips that appears whenever their gazes meet for the first time in the morning. Just Kyungsoo’s melodious voice whenever he hums to random songs as they walk together. Just the way Kyungsoo’s round eyes light up when Jongin guesses the color of something he points at right.

 

As Jongin takes a hold of Kyungsoo’s hand, intertwining their hands, securing them against his chest, all that he could think of is the warmth that transfers from Kyungsoo’s palm into his. When Kyungsoo looks up to meet his eyes, gaze as soft as the breeze, all that he could think of is how round Kyungsoo’s eyes are. And when they close the distance and their lips meet with a careful, delicate graze, all Jongin could think of is how soft and plump Kyungsoo’s lips feel against his own, and the bubbling joy that is threatening to burst out of his chest.

 

And when he watches as Kyungsoo is fast asleep next to him on his couch, hand still in his hold, he finally understands what his mother had always told him all along.

 

His father doesn’t see colors. Only his mother does. Which means they aren’t soulmates. But as far as Jongin could recall, there was not even once in their life when his parents weren’t happy. They were the happiest when they were with each other. And that was why his mother always told him not to let the concept of seeing colors and finding soulmate blind him from the actual meaning of love.

 

He’s in love. Feverishly, severely, carelessly, in love. With Kyungsoo.

 

And maybe, that’s what matters more than the colors.

 

=

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch with your soulmate.

 

Kyungsoo used to loathe the concept. Or himself, for being the only one whom the concept didn’t apply to.

 

Then as he spends his days with Jongin, gradually falling in love with the way Jongin finds everything amusing, the way the corners of Jongin’s eyes would crinkle up every time he laughs, with how patient and considerate Jongin always is to him, with the youthful soul that is Jongin, Kyungsoo finds that it doesn’t matter anymore. So what if he sees in colors? So what if he could’ve been seeing in monochrome? So what if he won’t be able to recognize his soulmate?

 

He has Jongin by his side, he has Jongin to fall in love with, and that’s all that matters.

 

And Kyungsoo becomes happier. Livelier than ever. And it spreads. To his father, whom he found tearing up one night when he laughed wholeheartedly at a small joke he threw. To the people around him, who now isn’t hesitant to talk to him. To Jongin, who doesn’t even realize that he’s the one who made it all possible. And to himself, who now finds that life is much easier when you let go of the unreasonable guilt and resentment in your chest.

 

But eventually, they get replaced with new ones.

 

What if, deep inside, Jongin still wants to meet his own soulmate and see colors?

 

He had forgotten about Jongin’s biggest aspiration in life. He had been selfish, had been too attracted to Jongin’s warmth, had been too drunk in love, that he couldn’t think of Jongin’s wellbeing.

 

He doesn’t have the right to steal Jongin from whoever it is that awaits Jongin somewhere, waiting to see colors as well.

 

‘What if they’re waiting for you?’ he finally asks Jongin, in the heat of the moment, at the peak of the argument. ‘What if they want to see colors just like you?’

 

‘Why do you have to care about them?’ Jongin asks back. No anger. Just sadness. ‘Why can’t you care about me only?’

 

Kyungsoo shakes his head. Of course he cares about Jongin. That’s the reason why he’s hurting himself like this. He cares about Jongin.

 

He just doesn’t realize he’s also hurting Jongin.

 

=

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch with your soulmate.

 

Jongin had forgotten that.

 

He had forgotten how it felt to be hopeful of something that is far away from him.

 

For a long while, he had felt so complete he forgot how it is to be wanting something that is not in his grasp.

 

As he drives and drives, eyes blurred by the tears that haven’t stopped flowing, Jongin wonders what has been wrong. He pulls over, fearing that he would only lose himself if he keeps driving, and continues to wonder. What went wrong between him and Kyungsoo?

 

How did Kyungsoo come up with the idea to let him go and find his soulmate?

 

How could Kyungsoo let him go?

 

Was Kyungsoo even aware of what he feels?

 

He then finds the answer. He finds the answer, and it’s so close to home; he found himself.

 

He never told Kyungsoo that he isn’t looking anymore.

 

He only ever told Kyungsoo that he loves him. He never told Kyungsoo that he no longer aspires to meet the supposed pair of his heart and to see colors anymore.

 

Because when he’s with Kyungsoo, he is complete.

 

Kyungsoo is all he wants and needs.

 

And he never really told Kyungsoo that.

 

He laughs and laughs. In the end, it’s all his fault. But it’s something he can fix. He’ll tell Kyungsoo. Determined and fiery once more, he starts the engine of his car again and makes a sharp turn, back to the direction to Kyungsoo’s place.

 

All he sees is Kyungsoo; he fails to notice another car coming from behind.

 

=

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch with your soulmate.

 

Kyungsoo wishes Jongin would get to see colors as soon as possible.

 

He hugs his knees up against his chest. The tears keep flowing down, although no sob comes out of him. He doesn’t have the energy to cry. The tears just decided to come out.

 

It’s alright. It’s alright. He’s used to it. Being alone. Being alive with no exact purpose. Not having anything to look forward to in the morning.

 

It was beautiful. The time he spent with Jongin. At least for a long while, it felt like they were destined for each other.

 

It hasn’t even been half an hour since Jongin left, yet he already feels like he’s been suffering for ten years.

 

His blurry sight rests on the books on the coffee table in front of him. Green, red, yellow, blue. He would’ve loved to describe them to Jongin. But when he wipes the tears away from his eyes and stares at them again, he notices something. At first, he thinks his eyes are just tired of letting out the tears. Then it gets clearer, and clearer, and finally, he gasps. He observes his surroundings.

 

They look similar now. Shades of greys.

 

The colors are gone.

 

He’s seeing in monochrome now.

 

=

 

The world is in monochrome until you share a touch with your soulmate.

 

But it wasn’t the case with the six months old baby boy, who was being rocked on his mother’s laps.

 

“What do we tell him?” the man next to her whispered.

 

The lady smiled at him warmly. “We still have years, dear.”

 

They were sitting on the bench at a hospital’s park. The man wandered his gaze towards the trees. They were in shades of greys. He then stared down at his son. “What if we don’t tell him at all? That he’d never be able to see colors. I… I’d rather him to be hopeful of the possibility instead of being pessimistic because something has been wrong with his eyes since he was born. He’s going to hate me. For inheriting it to him.”

 

Achromatopsia. The baby would never see colors, even if he gets to touch his soulmate one day.

 

“We’ll take this slowly.” The lady assured. “We still have years.”

 

The man nodded solemnly. He puts a hand on his son’s head. “I’m so sorry, Jongin.”

 

Then a small hand appeared and rested on the baby’s even smaller one. The couple laughed at the little boy, probably around one or two years old, holding Jongin’s hand carefully. Round eyes were blinking at the baby who was busy kicking his legs forward. At least the atmosphere became lighter because of the little boy.

 

“Kyungsoo!” a voice shouted, and the couple found a man rushing towards them. “There you are!” the man arrived and bowed at them. “I’m so sorry, he’s been so curious of everything ever since he started walking.”

 

“It’s alright!” the lady laughed. “He’s so adorable.”

 

The little boy left with his father. Curious eyes still trying to get a glimpse of the baby. Then those eyes started to wander over everything around. The little boy found it overwhelming and exciting. “Pa!” he squealed. “Pa!!”

 

“Yes, Kyung?” the man chuckled.

 

Chubby fingers pointed towards bushes of flowers they were furthering from. They suddenly looked funny. Like the shirt the baby from earlier was wearing. Ever since he touched the baby’s hand, everything started to look weird.

 

Years later, the little boy would identify the weirdness as colors.

 

And he’d learn he isn’t supposed to see them that early.