one.

People met and people parted. Jongin had come to see this as a simple yet inescapable feature of life. Meeting a person only to part. Parting with someone only to meet another. It wasn’t really something he felt anger or resentment over — rather, thinking about it simply caused the subtle sadness that normally lay dormant in his heart to temporarily awaken and become known to him — its just how people are, the little voice in his mind told him. Sometimes parting ways was brutal — abrupt and sharp, a tearing pain that sent him reeling. Other times it was merely a process of growing, so gradual that he didn’t notice until it had already happened. He would look and realise — Oh, I am here, and they have moved on. It almost seemed odd to him, sometimes, when he took the time to examine the distances that spanned between him and people he once knew, and the bridges he had built connecting him with others. No matter what, he always felt sad because of it. People came and went — but he was always the one left holding on.

He had tried to ask Sehun about it once, but of course, his friend hadn’t been all that helpful.

“Do you ever think about the people you’ve lost?” Jongin had asked him almost absentmindedly one evening as they sat together in a small bar in Yokohama, the scent of cigarette smoke thick in the air as they sipped their beers.

“People I’ve lost?” Sehun had frowned. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve lost many people yet. I guess my grandparents have passed on, but I don’t think about them too much and its not like I knew them that well anyway.”

“No, not like, death.” Jongin waved off Sehun’s answer. “People you’ve lost too soon. People you’ve had to part ways with despite your emotional needs not being met.”

Sehun had pursued his lips. “I guess I think of old high school friends I’ve lost contact with from time to time…” he trailed off. “But its not like I had to part ways with them. We simply drifted apart. Changed as people, or something. I’m sure I could message them out of the blue and still have a good conversation and maybe even organise to meet up.”

Jongin hummed into his beer in thought and Sehun seemed to take this as affirmation to continue.

“I mean, I think it all depends on your feelings and the depth of them. Parting ways implies it happened mutually. As if you came to an agreement to go your seperate paths.”

“What if you did?”

Sehun had shrugged at that. “I don’t know. But if there are still feelings there and you find yourself thinking of the person you parted with wishfully, doesn’t that mean it happened too soon? You have to be sincere when you agree to stop knowing someone, I guess.”

Jongin hadn’t responded. He supposed that Sehun had had more balanced relationships in his life, despite his own family issues. His friendships had always been stable and mutual. Sehun was the kind of person who didn’t live with regrets — and this extended into his relationships. His almost blasé ‘I’ll follow my heart and if it’s meant to be, it’ll be’ attitude would have been admirable, if it didn’t go against everything Jongin believed himself. Sehun was the kind of person to do things wholeheartedly. If he felt joy, he’d share it. If he felt love, he’d express it. If he missed someone, he’d seek them out and do his utmost to be at their side. He wasn’t constrained by doubt the way Jongin found himself to be. 

“What if their feelings don’t match yours?” Jongin asked.

Sehun drunk deeply, taking a moment to huff out a breath before answering. “You have to be respectful, of course. But if you parted ways without tying loose threads, how can you be sure of their feelings? Even if you have assumptions and it turns out they’re correct, you can’t have peace yourself unless you face things head on. Maybe you think they wan’t nothing to do with you, and you confront them and it turns out you were right. Still, at least if they tell you from their own mouth, you wont be left unsure. Isn't it better to hear the truth than to live in doubt? Even if the truth hurts, at least you can make the conscious decision to move on after hearing it.”

It was convoluted and confusing and more likely painful than not, and Jongin didn’t like thinking about it, so he had changed the topic. And Sehun, perhaps more astute than Jongin had previously given him credit for, didn’t bring it up again — for which he was thankful.

Jongin hadn’t bothered bringing up the topic again and he did his best to not allow it to crop up in his own mind, lest he become fixated on it. It was a difficult balance — on one hand, he wanted to be at peace with his past, yet on the other he desperately wished to avoid it. He remembered his mother, her vicious anger, wrongly directed. He thought of his father, aloof, uninterested and uncaring. It had hurt more than he would ever willingly admit yet somehow, out of the despair an anger had grown — an anger so fierce that he was unsure what to do with it. 

It had been that anger that had fuelled him for most of his life — he had been a furnace of pent up rage — so when it had gone out, he had been left empty and painfully aware of how horribly hungry he was. He was emotionally starved for something he didn’t recognise. 

The anger he had felt towards the people who had failed him had been snuffed out — and with it, much of what drove him to live. He felt oddly hollow — gazing out out at a world he felt he held no place in. Some people lived to spread love, others for the sake of the people around them. Jongin recognised now that he had simply worked with the little he had, no matter how unsustainable. Once the anger was gone, what did he have?

He had had to spend the last four years of his life in and out of therapy trying to figure out just what he was left with. 

Joonmyeon had been an surprising yet unwavering presence in his life. He carted him from therapist to therapist and even joined him in strained, awkward relationship counselling sessions. They would leave with ramrod straight backs, the uncomfortable, stilted truths that they had spilt weighing heavily on the air between them as Joonmyeon drove him home. His older brother seemed sincere in wanting to mend things between them, though, despite how uncomfortable it was for the both of them, and Jongin had clutched to that like a lifeline. His older half brother was over ten years older than him, and much of Jongin’s youth had been spent resenting him — but somehow the two had come to a point where they tolerated and perhaps even cared for one another.

This sentiment however was often lost in translation. His current situation just so happened to be one of those times:

Jongin strode with barely concealed agitation from the bottom floor lift and hit his half-brothers name on his mobile as soon as he was out in the parking lot. He listened with growing ire as the ring tone sounded, unanswered. Of course Joonmyeon would spring this on him. Of course he would. Jongin loathed the fact he was even surprised. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Joonmyeon finally picked up.

"This better be an emergency." His half brother's voice reached him through the phone and Jongin had to resist the urge to fling his phone away in a temporary fit of madness. It was all too easy to envision Joonmyeon, sitting at his stupid, fancy desk in his grand high rise office, wearing one of his ridiculously over-priced pressed suits, body language languid and at ease. Oh how it made Jongin's blood boil. 

"Why didn't you tell me?!" His tone came out half choked. "That Mr. Do — Kyungsoo! — is attending the lessons I'm teaching!?" 

For a moment he was met by nothing but silence. Finally, Joonmyeon spoke. "Oh. I forgot."

"You forgot." Jongin's tone was withering.

"Why is it an issue?" Joonmyeon's tone sounded genuinely curious from the other end of the line. "I thought you were fond of him."

Once more Jongin was almost overwhelmed by the urge to fling his phone away from him. "Well yes, fond!" His words came out half spluttered. Fond might have been putting it lightly, but it wasn't as though he had ever actually divulged to anyone exactly the extent of the feelings he had held for his high school english teacher. 

Let alone his half brother. Jongin had to repress a shudder from running through his body at the mere thought of partaking in such a conversation with Joonmyeon. Their relationship was greatly improved from the past — they even had dinner with each other on a semi-regular basis — but discussions on feelings like that were a strict no-no, as far as Jongin was concerned.

"Well, I don't see what the issue is." Joonmyeon's tone was nonchalant, breaking Jongin from his chain of thought. For a second Jongin couldn't help but wonder whether his brother was Satan, setting him up for something disastrous. Jongin was sure he had read somewhere that number one on the list of top ten professions attracting people with psychopathic traits happened to be CEO's, and the image in his mind of Joonmyeon warped for a moment: the devil, charming in a three-piece suit — a somehow fitting image. He shook the thought away quickly — there was no way Do Kyungsoo could possibly be involved in any sort of nefarious plot — he was too good, his disposition practically angelic — which meant that by extension, Joonmyeon surely wasn't all that bad.

Jongin forced himself to stop his chain of thought. He heaved in a deep breath instead, opening his mouth to begin a tirade against his brother. However, before he got a chance, Joonmyeon was speaking. 

"Look, I'm a tad occupied at the moment so I'm going to have to end this enthralling conversation here. I'm sure Kyungsoo will be happy to catch up with an ex-student, so make sure you make him feel welcome."

Jongin's brain fuzzed at the edges at his brothers words and by the time he returned to his senses, Joonmyeon had already hung up. He in a sharp breath, thoughts buzzing as he mulled over things. It was just a lot, he told himself. A lot to have happen unexpectedly in a short amount of time.

He repressed the strange, conflicting urges at war within him, opting to stand in muted silence for several moments instead as prior events came flooding back into his brain. Do Kyungsoo, his ex-english teacher and the previous recipient of some complicated feelings, had asked him out to dinner. And he had been so overwhelmed by happiness that he hadn't even thought twice about his response — he had accepted without hesitation or thought and now he was doomed to endure what was sure to be an entirely platonic work relationship with the man.

Not that being in a platonic work friendship was a bad thing. It wasn't like Jongin wanted more. He had overcome the feelings he had held for his teacher years ago. Platonic was good. Platonic was safe. Platonic was exactly what he wanted.

Jongin stumbled to his car, getting in with far less grace than usual. He fumbled with his phone, fingers flying as he typed.

To: OSH

I'm going out for dinner with Do Kyungsoo, Sehun. I don't know what the hell to do.

From: OSH

wtf r u talking about ? dinner with do kyungsoo ? as in english teacher mr. do from malhana ?

From: OSH

omg thats so cool, say hi to him for me !

From: OSH

but why do i feel as though ur freaking out a bit ?

From: OSH

jongin ?

From: OSH

jongin ???????
 

Do Kyungsoo had grown more muscled in the time since Jongin had last seen him. His skin was a darker tan, too, his lightly toned arms hinting at the active lifestyle he had led prior to his move to Japan. His face wasn’t as thin as it had been, but somehow the years didn’t at all act negatively on his appearance. He still looked youthful — just a different version of what his younger self could have been, had the circumstances been different. He had put on weight, but it wasn’t as though it were bad weight — he simply seemed to have filled out and, if anything, he appeared a little more masculine than he did in the past because of it.

Hell, it wasn’t as if Jongin himself hadn’t put on some weight since he had last seen his ex-english teacher.

Kyungsoo, who had spotted him approaching the small family run restaurant he stood waiting outside of, raised a hand in a wave, teeth bright against his skin. He looked healthy and happy, Jongin noted with a pang that almost felt like longing. He tampered it down.

“Hello.” Jongin mumbled once he drew up to his ex-teacher. He was pleased to note he was still taller than the dark haired man. Some things wouldn’t change, he supposed. 

“Hi, Jongin. Thanks for agreeing to meet with me for dinner.” Mr. Do’s — no, Kyungsoo’s — smile was genuine. “Its nice to come across a familiar face here in Japan. I haven’t been able to to make any friends until now.”

“No problem, no problem.” Jongin managed to get out, ducking his head to hide his face as they entered the restaurant. The implication of his words — I haven’t been able to make any friends until now — made Jongin’s heart thud erratically. Mr. Do — No, Kyungsoo, his brain corrected once more — wanted to be friends with him. It hardly seemed believable.

They took a booth along the wall, quickly ordering themselves a meal each, and Jongin had to use a great deal of his willpower thereafter simply stopping himself from staring at the man across from him in abject amazement. Five years had passed and all Kyungsoo physically had to show for it was a nice golden tan and more muscle mass. It was almost laughable. 

“Have you been well?” 

The question, for some reason, surprised Jongin.

“Oh, quite well.”

It was the same kind of vague response that he normally gave — and it seemed prudent, more so than ever before, to give it considering just who he was talking to. How did you go about lightly breaking the ice, revealing to the very man who changed your entire outlook on life that you had been spending the last four years of your life in therapy trying to get over a number of emotional problems you became aware of only after he made the choice to go his seperate way. It was all rather heavy stuff to sort through.

Jongin’s bottom lip twitched as he warred with himself for a moment. “I’m doing better, especially these days.”

Kyungsoo nodded to himself. “I’m sorry you suffered.” He didn’t try to make any excuses for past events and Jongin was glad.

“Me too.” Jongin murmured, gazing down at the mug of complimentary green tea he had been given upon sitting down. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wished to express — it was all there, resting in his chest, just waiting to be said aloud — but at that moment a waiter brought their meals over, seemingly breaking the spell that had settled over him. 

Kyungsoo smiled up at the teen who placed their meals down. Old habits died hard, Jongin supposed. It felt beyond strange to be sitting there as colleagues rather than as a student and teacher. Jongin couldn’t help but swallow thickly as he watched Kyungsoo thank the teen warmly, suddenly awash with memories he hadn’t bothered examining in a long time. Memories brought back feelings and Jongin wasn’t quite sure what to do with all the emotions he suddenly felt himself experiencing as he stared across at his dark haired ex-english teacher. The ache he thought he had conquered was back, settling into him with an ease he couldn’t deny. Was he really so weak against the man before him?

When Kyungsoo had entered the room he was holding the Japanese intensives in, Jongin hadn't known what to do. For a moment he had felt like a seventeen year old boy again, desperate for something he didn't understand. Even now, he was unsure. Five years was a long time. They had parted ways only to inexplicably be brought back together. Jongin had never believed in mystical signs or a higher power, but surely this was the kind of coincidence that was too good to pass up. 

“I know this is a little premature,” Jongin said abruptly “but do you think you’d like to meet like this again, sometime?”

For a moment Kyungsoo’s face was blank. Then, without warning, he laughed. Jongin could only watch in blank incomprehension, uncertainty riddling his body. He had always thought of himself as a confident person — perhaps overly so — but the response he had just received left him suddenly acutely afraid of a sharp rejection. Perhaps it showed on his face —

“Sorry” Kyungsoo murmured. “You just surprised me, is all. I didn’t think you’d want to see me again, what with me being one of your past teachers and all.” The dark haired man waved a hand as if to clear the thought from the air. When he looked back up, he was smiling. “I’d like that a lot, though, Jongin.”

Jongin merely nodded in response, opting instead to pick up his chopsticks and eat rather than speak, suddenly self conscious that his voice would fail him.

...
A/N
Hi all!
Hope you're all ready for this surely rocky ride of a fic, because, quite frankly, I haven't got a single clue as to what I'm doing (ahh)
I was going to write this as a one shot but then, like usual, my brain was like 'wah theres so many things to explore that you can't if you write this as a one shot' so luckily (or perhaps unluckily) for you all I've decided to extend this into a multichaptered fic. By no means will it be as long as Enamoured (heck noooo) but I'll certainly be posting a few chapters more here and there. Sorry if that's not what you're into, my brain is simply too full of thoughts to be contained, I guess! 

Thank you all so much for the support. The number of subscribers this fic gained with just the forward posted had me pretty shocked, not going to lie. I'm having fun writing from Jongin's POV and can only hope that this fic will live up to your expectations!

Until next time~