Remember

 

Minseok × Jongdae

 

 

Christmas falls on Sunday this year.

 

And it was supposed to be a peaceful Sunday for Jongdae.

 

But instead, he got a visit from a stranger who apparently came with a very important purpose.

 

“Thank you.” the man in front of him whispers, tears falling down such beautiful face. “Thank you so much.”

 

Lu Han came from Beijing, China. All the way across the seas to meet him. To have a look at the only thing his supposedly best friend had left for him to see.

 

“I… I should be thanking you and his family instead.” Jongdae says awkwardly; he knows nothing about calming down a crying man. “Your friend gave me another chance to see the world again. Even if he didn’t know it.” he smiles. “Please don’t be sad, Han-ssi.”

 

“He must’ve left happily.” Han wipes his tears, smiling back at Jongdae. “My friend… he always dreamt of doing something great before he… before it’s his time to go.”

 

Jongdae looks at Han. The deceased man, who had become his eye donor, was Han’s best friend.

 

“His time has always been limited.” Han’s smile turns bitter. “But in the end… his dream was fulfilled, thanks to you.”

 

“It could’ve been anyone.” Jongdae says. “I just happened to be there.”

 

Han settles with staring into Jongdae’s eyes again. Although it feels awkward for him, Jongdae doesn’t protest. They are the only thing that’s left from his best friend after all, so Han must feel such attachment.

 

After a quiet long morning, Han decides to end his sudden visit. Jongdae insists that he should stay for lunch, but apparently Han has another plan during his short stay in Seoul. Jongdae gradually complies with Han’s words.

 

However, before Han walks away from his front door, a question from the pretty faced man puts him still.

 

“Jongdae-ssi,” Han asks quietly, “do you remember… Kim Minseok?”

 

Jongdae stares up at him, perplexed.

 

Luhan stares back at him, unreadable.

 

“Y-you,” Jongdae’s throat feels dry, closing, “you know him?”

 

The smile on Han’s face turns bitter again. “I… don’t.” he whispers. “I wish I did.”

 

The door closes.

 

Jongdae falls on the floor.

 

=

 

What Jongdae can remember of Kim Minseok is very few.

 

Because when he first met him, he couldn’t see anything.

 

He had just lost his eyesight to misfortune, and a friend to death. Just the month before. He only lost one sense and one friend, yet it felt like he was done. Like his life wouldn’t serve its purpose again.

 

So when he first met Kim Minseok, his world was dark, both literally and metaphorically.

 

“Stop!”

 

It was Minseok, whose voice he heard the moment his hands were gripping around the armrest of his wheelchair, when he was sure that one more move forward and he would tumble down the stairs.

 

“That was dangerous.” the voice said as he felt his wheelchair being turned around. Jongdae was too angry and too ashamed to even say anything back.

 

“May I know your name?” the voice had asked. “You’re my new hospital neighbor, room 561 guy. Starting from today I’m in room 563.”

 

Go away, he had screamed inside his head. Go away and let me end everything.

 

The voice didn’t give up. “I’m Minseok. Nice to meet you.”

 

Jongdae didn’t know why, but even in the middle of his mixed emotions, Minseok’s voice sounded so warm, and he hated himself for thinking about that. He was supposed to be thinking about how to meet Joonmyun sooner. Not stalling around with some stranger.

 

But in the end, he thought that it was his sign for ‘no, not today, not yet’.

 

“Jongdae.” he had whispered. “I’m Jongdae.”

 

“Well, hi Jongdae.”

 

“I’ve heard about you.” Jongdae said. “The Con Heart Defect guy.”

 

There was a silence before Minseok replied to his unexpected statement. “Nah, not that dramatic.” Minseok had chuckled. “I just have a weak heart. And it’s being treated.”

 

“Since when?”

 

“Since… forever, I guess?”

 

One thing Jongdae can remember about Minseok, is that his voice sounded so warm.

 

=

 

What Jongdae can remember of Kim Minseok is very few.

 

Because when Minseok slowly walked into his life, all he thought about was to get further from him a little bit.

 

“So it’s true. They said when you lose one sense, the other sense would enhance. This is very cool.”

 

“I know the song very well, genius. It’s nothing about super ears.”

 

“You’re going to fall down if you keep scooting away from me.”

 

On a warm day in the beginning of July, Minseok took him to a recreation room on the third floor of the hospital building. He was skeptical at first, but once Minseok brought his hand to touch the smooth surface of the piano’s keyboard, he finally casted the thoughts of being kidnapped away.

 

They sat on the chair, and Minseok started working his fingers on the black and white keys, creating harmony, while he would immediately kill the joy by pointing out what songs the other was playing.

 

“Do you want some candy? There’s a jar here.”

 

“What can tell me it’s not a lethal drug?”

 

“Geez what a sunshine you are.”

 

In the end Jongdae parted his lips slightly when Minseok asked him to. A strawberry flavored candy was inserted into his mouth, hitting his taste buds right away. But what almost made him gasp wasn’t the candy;

 

it was the soft feel of Minseok’s index finger, brushing against his bottom lip.

 

“Oops.” Minseok whispered, and Jongdae wondered if Minseok’s breath was taken away, just like his own.

 

They both were drowning in an awkward silence. Or at least Jongdae hoped so; he hoped he wasn’t the only one feeling the sugar rush.

 

“Let’s continue our tour.” he felt Minseok standing up, and at the next second, warmth enveloped his arm again. “Next stop is the nurse station. There’s someone I need to annoy.”

 

One thing Jongdae can remember about Minseok, is how gentle he was whenever he wrapped his fingers around his wrist to guide him.

 

=

 

What Jongdae can remember of Kim Minseok is very few.

 

Because even if Minseok was there to shine on him, he refused to see the light again.

 

But on that noticeably cold August morning, he followed the light to the park at the back of the hospital building. He heard Minseok’s bubbly laughter as they slightly ran to the park, the breeze hitting on his skin and the sound of birds tweeting quite far away from them. The crisp sound of grass being stepped on accompanied his ears as he followed Minseok to wherever the energized squirrel wanted to go to. He just prayed that Minseok won’t make him trip again.

 

They settled on a bench, and Jongdae was ranting about how he swore he would never follow Minseok to anywhere again, when he noticed that his words weren’t being replied at.

 

“You’re scaring me.” he said quietly when he finally felt Minseok’s hand resting on his shoulder. The hand traveled down to his own, and then the said hand got lifted, only to rest against the soft fabric of a cloth; Minseok’s sweater. His fingers were being spread out, and he finally realized what Minseok was doing.

 

He was letting him feel his heartbeat under his palm.

 

“My heart .” Minseok whispered. “Whenever I run only for a little bit, whenever I get excited, whenever I feel so happy, it would start acting up. As if to remind me that I’m limited. It won’t let me be happy.”

 

In that moment, Jongdae realized that he had been resenting his own life for too long that he forgot he was never the only one struggling. Someone else, someone beside him, had been in a struggle for his whole lifetime.

 

“Then don’t… don’t force yourself too much.” Jongdae whispered back. “Don’t forget your meds. And don’t run again.”

 

“Yeah.” Minseok chuckled.

 

“Why did you run?”

 

There was a pause, and Jongdae could feel Minseok hesitating, as if he was picking the right words to say. “I just… wanted to let you know,” Minseok said, “that as long as you have me around, you can even run. You can enjoy your days, even if you can’t see what you’re enjoying.”

 

One thing Jongdae can remember about Minseok, is the beauty that he never saw, yet he always felt whenever they were together.

 

=

 

What Jongdae can remember of Kim Minseok is very few.

 

Because he never thought of living the way he used to again.

 

“I want to see you.”

 

And with Minseok, he learnt that even though his life has changed, it wasn’t for the worse. Nor was it for the better. It was, instead, something else. A different life, with different meaning.

 

A life with Minseok in it.

 

“Sure.” Minseok said, a clear hint of happiness was in his voice. Jongdae felt his hands being lifted, and his palms rest against the soft surface that was Minseok’s face’s skin. He can feel Minseok’s warm breath on his wrist. “Go ahead.” Minseok whispered.

 

And he did. He saw Minseok. His fingers fluttered like butterflies across Minseok’s face. He gently grazed every feature, every curve and every contour, feeling every movement of Minseok’s head, feeling the flutter of Minseok’s lashes, feeling the warm breath under Minseok’s nose.

 

“If you ever get to see again,” Minseok asked gently, “what would you want to see first?”

 

Somehow, without any much hesitation, Jongdae answered with a wide grin. “You.” he said. “This face. It’s the first thing I want to see.”

 

“So all I need is to be there when it happens, huh?”

 

Jongdae nodded.

 

“What else do you want to see?”

 

When he got on Minseok’s plump lips, their owner took a hold of his hand to stay still and the said lips softly added more pressure against his fingers. “The snow.” Jongdae answered. “I want to see the snow fall.”

 

“You will.” Minseok whispered. “You will see it again.”

 

“And you. I will see you.”

 

There was a long pause. “Yeah.”

 

Jongdae smiled when he felt Minseok’s index finger tapping the corner of his lips. “Minseok?” he called.

 

“Hm?”

 

“You’re pretty.”

 

“No, I’m handsome. And you’re not on the place to say that.”

 

“I mean I can already imagine how you would look like, genius.”

 

One thing Jongdae can remember about Minseok, is that his lips felt a lot softer when they were pressed against his own.

 

=

 

What Jongdae can remember of Kim Minseok is very few.

 

Because after such a heartbreak, his mind went on autopilot mode where it immediately refused to process any good memory about him.

 

It was a cold October night, when Minseok sneaked into his room. Minseok crept onto his bed and hugged him from behind. Jongdae chose not to waste any second; he immediately turned around to face Minseok, and when he felt the familiar warm breath against his skin, he smiled so wide it hurt.

 

“Just tonight.” Minseok had said. “Let me sleep next to you tonight.”

 

His heart swelled yet ached at the same time when Minseok gently pressed his forehead against his own. However it only ached more when he touched Minseok’s cheek and felt some wet substance on it. “Are you crying??”

 

“Yes.” Minseok whispered. “Because I’m very happy.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

“Because I’m with you.”

 

They spent that one particular night in each other’s arms, listening to each other’s heartbeat. They were so beautiful, so right together.

 

Which then didn’t explain Minseok’s disappearance the night after.

 

And the week after. And another week after.

 

He wasn’t there, three weeks after he disappeared, when Jongdae finally received his eye transplant. He wasn’t there when Jongdae went under the surgery.

 

He wasn’t there, the month after, when Jongdae opened his eyes and noticed the metaphorically blinding light of the winter sun that had shone through the window across his room.

 

Instead, there was snow.

 

The snow started falling on the day Jongdae could finally see the world again.

 

“Jongdae, you may want to prevent the tears for a meantime since your eyes are still adjusting – Jongdae? Are you alright?”

 

He wasn’t.

 

Because that person couldn’t even keep the promise that even the snow could.

 

He wasn’t alright.

 

And at that moment, he knew he would never be alright.

 

=

 

So, what Jongdae can remember of Kim Minseok is very few.

 

“W-wait, Lu Han-ssi!!”

 

He can't remember Minseok's face, or how Minseok's smile looked, did he look happy when he laughed, how was his sad face when he cried, what kind of clothes he wore, what color his hair was, Jongdae can't remember them. Because he didn't get to know.

 

“Lu Han-ssi!” the door bursts open, and Jongdae finds the startled Han. “A-are you sure that you – you don’t know him??”

 

Han stares at the man, staggering on his feet, chest heaving, and eyes –

 

Those beautiful, hopeful eyes.

 

“No, Jongdae-ssi. Just forget what I said.” Han musters up a smile. “I’m so sorry, it seems like I have misled you.”

 

“No, that can’t be. You clearly said his name – “

 

What he can remember about Minseok is very few. Like how soft Minseok's voice sounded when he hummed his favorite song, how vivid his voice was when he laughed, how soft his palm was when they held each other's hand, how silky his locks were under his fingers, and how slow the rhythm of his heart beating when Minseok took his hand and pressed it against his chest.

 

“He’s… was a friend.” Han cuts him. “A friend whose name I shouldn’t have mentioned to you recklessly.”

 

“Where is he??” Jongdae pleads. “Please tell me where he is now, please – “

 

“He… is very far away.” Han says, looking away. “He doesn’t want to be found.”

 

Jongdae lets the words sink in. Minseok doesn’t want to be found. “Then at least… please tell me that he’s alright. His – his heart, is it still – “

 

“He’s alright. And,” Han croaks out, “happy. Hopefully.”

 

Jongdae nods to himself like a broken puppet. “Good.” Jongdae breathes out. “Good for him.”

 

“Instead of thinking about him, will you promise me a thing?”

 

So, when Minseok left, all the memories they shared only feel like a series of long dream to Jongdae. And to keep his sanity in track, to remind himself that Minseok was real, he holds onto the warmth Minseok had felt for him inside his chest, and sits back.

 

Trying to play back the melody of Minseok's voice in his mind.

 

“Please,” Han whispers, “take care of Minshuo’s eyes.”

 

=

 

It’s already given for summer days to be accompanied by rains.

 

The heat had been overwhelming, thus it was only logical that it would accumulate in the form of heavy clouds and then rain, be it small scaled or big scaled, would ensue. Rainy summer days are common. The streets would be wet and slippery because the dusts on the asphalt won’t be erased away by water yet.

 

Accidents, small or severe, also tend to happen during that kind of weather. It’s something that could’ve been prevented, yet would be understood if happens.

 

Yet of course, for the victim and the one who caused it, their lives change forever.

 

“Lawyer Yoon has taken care of everything.” his friend’s voice woke him up from his thoughts. “Your name won’t come up even once in the case.”

 

He nodded at himself, at how much of a failure he was.

 

“It wasn’t even entirely your fault.” his friend spoke again. “You were suffering from a heart attack. Your heart was acting up. You yourself can’t predict when it will happen.”

 

“And it happened just right at the moment where the chances were high for me to hit someone and kill them in the process.” he spat. “Good for me.”

 

“Jin Minshuo!” his friend whispered roughly. “Your guilty won’t get you anywhere so you better start pretending like everything’s ing fine. We’ve done everything we can do to save you so you can at least be grateful for our effort – “

 

“Mr. Kim? Kim Minseok?”

 

“That’s me.” Minshuo said, standing up from the hospital bench. “And thank you, for real, Xiaohan.”

 

Lu Han sighed. “When will you be admitted?”

 

“Next week.”

 

“Is everything done? The registration and all.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I trust you, Xiumin.” Han looked at his friend in pure worry. “You’ll be okay, right?”

 

Minshuo’s smile was empty. “Yes.” he said before he turned around.

 

“Min?”

 

He looked back.

 

“One of them survived.” Han said quietly.

 

Minshuo’s eyes widen.

 

“Kim Jongdae, the deceased Kim Joonmyun’s friend. He’s still alive.”

 

In the last weeks of summer, Jin Minshuo met the one whose life he would change, and the one who would change his life.