8 :  l o s t

Keys? Check. Clothes? Check. Toiletries? Got 'em. Film rolls? In the cannister. Front pocket. What else? Donghae took a step back, arms akimbo, staring at the open duffel bag on his bed. He had to reach the ferry terminal in approximately one hour and mentally cursed himself for making the last minute decision of returning to Busan for a day. He had a reason though; he wanted to pick up any items that he might have left behind, items that would help narrow down his past. He wanted to remember now more than ever, and the sudden appearance of auburn-haired Lee Hyukjae made it seem all the more urgent for him to do so. Barely a week had passed since the man first appeared in front of him at the waterfall and already he'd learnt so much more about his past than he'd been able to in the past seven or so years. However, Donghae wasn't a fool; he knew he had to take everything Hyukjae told him with a pinch of salt. He barely knew the man, and even though Hyukjae had brought him to their bungalow and showed him pictures of them from before he lost his memory, he still couldn't fully trust the man. He'd been on his own for too long to readily trust anyone new.

"I better get going," he muttered to himself, zipping the duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

Donghae made his way to the garage where he'd last left his bicycle. He hadn't been able to drive ever since the accident, so the grey car that was parked in the garage had been left to collect dust in the years that followed the accident. It was his late parents' gift to him when he first got his license at the age of eighteen, but he barely remembered using it. Of course, it wasn't the only thing he struggled to remember. Donghae grabbed the handlebar of his black fixie. He pressed a button on a small remote control that he'd hung with the keys in his pocket, prompting the garage door to open. He waited as the door tilted up and slid back across the garage ceiling before pushing the fixie out of the garage. Climbing onto the bicycle, Donghae pressed the button on the garage door's remote control once more before riding off towards the ferry terminal.

"Really? You're coming to Busan?" Kyuhyun repeated after his best friend, leaning back in his seat. "That's great! I have a feeling I'll need to talk to you later, anyway."

He waved at a waiter, prompting him to come over.

"No, I don't have any plans tonight. Don't worry," he continued to say into the phone that was pressed in between his right ear and shoulder. He listened as his best friend spoke on the line, pointing to the name of a beverage on the menu simultaneously so the waiter could take his order.

"Okay, great. I'll talk to you later. Yep. Bye."

Kyuhyun placed his phone on the table and straightened his back. He had arrived at the diner fifteen minutes ahead of the time that he'd been told to be there, and had chosen to sit at a booth near the back of the diner. He sighed. The only two reasons he'd agreed to the meeting was because first and foremost, it was a Saturday and secondly, he had nothing planned since Irene had left for Germany with her parents the previous night. He looked at his watch. 12:27 PM. He waited.

At exactly half past noon, a scrawny, pale man with bright auburn-coloured hair walked into the diner. That must be him. Kyuhyun watched as the man walked to the middle of the diner, turning around in search of someone. He wore a light blue denim dress shirt, ed, with a white t-shirt underneath and tight, black jeans ripped at the knees, with white sneakers. Not at all how I thought someone worth that much would dress, to be honest, Kyuhyun thought. He waved at the man, and when he'd been spotted, the man walked over hurriedly. He slid into the booth, beaming, and held out his hand.

"Hi," he greeted. "Lee Hyukjae."

Kyuhyun reached out and shook the man's hand in return.

"Cho Kyuhyun," he said firmly.

He watched as Hyukjae began to flip through the menu, wondering what to say next.

"So, uh, Hyukjae-sshi," Kyuhyun started cautiously, "Remind me again how you found my number and why we're sitting here together right now."

Hyukjae continued to look through the menu, unbothered. It flustered Kyuhyun for some reason.

"Please don't call me Hyukjae-sshi," Hyukjae said gently, smiling. "Just Hyukjae. I got your number through Donghae—no—I searched his phone for your number. I needed to talk to you about something that happened between the two of us."

Just then, a waitress stopped by their table, balancing a tray full of drinks on one palm. She served Kyuhyun a cup of tea on a saucer before moving off to serve another patron. Kyuhyun took a sip of his tea, frowning.

"Okay," he muttered, setting his cup onto its saucer. "but why? And why me?"

Hyukjae closed the menu, pushing it aside.

"Because after what happened," he explained. "I figured you might have the answers I've been looking for. You're the only person Donghae has kept close to ever since he lost his memory. Plus, he told me you're the last person he was with before he turned up at my house. Drunk."

"Drunk?"

"Mmhm. I believe you went drinking with him a day after his birthday and dropped him off at my place right after."

Kyuhyun was silent.

"I'm gonna order some food, by the way." Hyukjae stated, gesturing at a waiter to come over. "Want anything?"

Kyuhyun shook his head. Hyukjae mouthed an okay in response and proceeded to relay his order to the waiter. After the waiter had taken his order and left, Hyukjae reached out and placed his hand on Kyuhyun's, causing Kyuhyun to scramble frantically. Hyukjae smirked.

"Sorry," he apologised half-heartedly. "You look shaken."

"Uh, no," was Kyuhyun's quick reply.

He adjusted his glasses, staring straight past the auburn-haired man. For some unknown reason, he didn't know how to continue the conversation. Perhaps he was intimidated by the man's demeanour, and by the fact that he had no idea how much or how little the man knew about his best friend, and about him. He sipped some tea.

"Aren't you going to ask me what happened?"

Kyuhyun looked up from his cup. Hyukjae was staring intently at him with his head tilted.

"Uh, yes," Kyuhyun said softly, placing his cup onto the saucer carefully. "Eventually. Although I do want to clarify something; I never dropped him off at your place that night. After drinking, he'd insisted on taking a cab home himself. I let him. I even gave the cab driver his address before saying goodbye to him, so I had no idea he went off to find you."

Hyukjae raised his brows, surprised.

"Oh? But that would mean he had either given my address to the driver after the cab had moved off, or walked all the way to my place after being dropped off at his house."

"Exactly," Kyuhyun agreed. "But anyway, what happened?"

Kyuhyun watched as the man in front of him leaned back, blank faced.

"He said he loved me. He said he always had." Hyukjae's face remained blank and emotionless, but the tip of his ears began to turn pink. "We even got intimate."

"What?" Kyuhyun choked. "Not possible! He doesn't even remember you! Did you take advantage of him? Because if you did—"

"Kyuhyun, calm down."

"—I swear I will kill—"

"CALM DOWN, WILL YOU?!"

There was a brief silence throughout the diner. Patrons had turned, wondering who had raised their voice. Kyuhyun and Hyukjae, on the other hand, glared at each other. There was tension in between them, but it dissipated as quickly as it had formed. Hyukjae softened his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, his shoulders sinking, "I didn't mean to shout."

Kyuhyun waved his hands frantically, shaking his head. 

"No, no, please don't apologise!" He begged. "If anything, I should be the one apologising. I overreacted. And besides, I'm sure you're just as confused as I am."

This time, Kyuhyun reached his hand out, touching Hyukjae's wrist gently. He felt sorry for the man.

"Tell me everything that happened."

Hyukjae straightened his back.

"Well," he began, his voice as quiet as a mouse. "He was banging on my door at nearly three in the morning, and when I opened it, he fell straight into my arms. He was dead drunk, mumbling to himself and all that. I thought maybe letting him sleep over for the night would be a good idea but.. Then he started telling me that he'd always loved me, and that he'd waited so many years for me. He even told me to stay in bed with him, so I did, because I thought he'd fall asleep. He didn't though."

Kyuhyun leaned forward, curious.

"What did he do?"

"He teased me, and then out of nowhere he—he climbed on top of me, and he—"

"Oooooooooookay there, mister!" Kyuhyun interjected, covering his ears. "I think I get it!"

Hyukjae's cheeks flushed. He looked away sheepishly.

"Sorry. But anyway, yeah, I didn't even move. I didn't take advantage of him or anything, but I didn't stop him either," he admitted, avoiding Kyuhyun's gaze. "I didn't want to. Not after how long I'd been searching for him, really."

Kyuhyun rubbed his chin. He was unsure of what to make of it all, to be honest.

"So what you're saying is that drunk Donghae remembers something sober him doesn't?"

Hyukjae nodded.

"I was wondering if this is the first time something like this has happened," he elaborated. "I mean, I'm sure it's not the first time the two of you have gone drinking since the accident, right?"

A waitress interrupted their conversation right then, setting a plate of pasta in front of Hyukjae. Then she proceeded to pour iced water from a pitcher, into an empty glass that she had placed next to the plate. Hyukjae nodded at the waitress in gratitude, and she moved off. Hyukjae turned to face Kyuhyun.

"It definitely isn't the first time something like this happened," Kyuhyun concluded, tapping his index finger on the table. "Donghae used to complain of flashbacks that he'd get in his sleep, but those were mostly flashbacks of the accident. He never mentioned you. Maybe he remembers you subconsciously now that you've appeared in front of him. I don't know. I try my best not to pressure him into recalling anything. The man can't even remember his family."

"Then how did he remember you?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, how did he remember you, considering that he lost most, if not all, of his memory?" Hyukjae reiterated, twirling a fork into his pasta.

Kyuhyun was visibly taken aback by the sudden question, his eyes widened in shock as if he found it absurd to even have been asked such a thing. He remained calm, however, reminding himself that the man in front of him knew little of his friendship with Hyukjae, the same way he knew little to none about the man's supposed relationship with Donghae. He smiled.

"Donghae and I have been friends ever since I moved in next door to him when we were both thirteen. Our parents were extremely close, so when Donghae lost his parents, my family took him in." Kyuhyun took a sip from his cup before continuing. "He didn't immediately remember us, though. He was traumatised, and he literally flinched if anyone tried to touch him. It was really upsetting, but every single day since the day he got discharged, my family and I tried to comfort him with pictures, y'know, to see if he could remember anything. I guess he trusted us, even if he didn't exactly remember who we are. To be honest, I'm not even sure now if he remembers that I've been his best friend since we became neighbours, or if he just decided to roll with it because he couldn't remember anything."

Hyukjae swallowed his food. He thought aloud.

"Doesn't he have relatives or something? Didn't any of his extended family step up when news of the accident was covered? How come the police didn't contact his extended family or something? How come they let your parents have custody of him?"

Kyuhyun shrugged.

"H-honestly," he stammered, his voice quavering with uncertainty. "I don't know. My parents handled most of the situation, and since I was busy with school at the time, I never really got around to asking them."

Stuffing his face with pasta, Hyukjae studied the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" Kyuhyun asked him, interlacing his fingers.

Hyukjae swallowed, putting his fork down.

"I want to see if Donghae can remember anything else," he said, lowering his voice, "and since he seems to only be able to remember things drunk, then I'll need him to get him drunk. I'll need your help."

The door cracked open. Donghae took off his shoes and arranged them neatly next to the door, before setting his duffel bag onto the couch. The house was the same. Not a single thing had shifted position since he'd left the house nearly eight months before. He drew the curtains and opened the windows in a desperate attempt to rid the house of its still, musty air. He felt both indifferent and pained by the fact that there he was, standing in the house that he had, according to Kyuhyun, grown up in, but felt no connection to. He stood by the open window for a while and sighed.

Just then, his phone began to ring in his pocket, interrupting the silence that filled the house. Donghae swiftly pulled it out and pressed a button before putting it against his ear.

"Hey," he greeted calmly, suppressing the sadness in his voice.

Hearing the voice on the other end comforted him.

"Tonight? Yeah, sure. I think I'll be done by then. Text me the time and place, okay?"

Donghae laughed briefly at something that was said on the other end of the line.

"Okay, okay, I promise. Alright. Bye."

Silence filled the house once more.