Kibum rhythmically tapped his fingers on the side of the wooden desk, due in part to both impatience and anxiety.  They were all finally meeting again...after how many years?

He checked his watch.  They were late.  Typical.

He hadn’t planned on ever seeing them again.  He had almost forgotten about their existence.  

Almost.

He had been waiting for the inevitable day, however, when they would finally muster up enough will power to designate the new founders.  He didn’t want to let go of his job; not a job that meant so much to him.  He knew the others felt the same way.

“You’re already here?”

Kibum turned to see a tall, lanky figure lurking in the shadows of the abandoned classroom.  He recognized that foreign drawl almost too well.

“Long time no see...Zhou Mi.”  Kibum had a ghost of a smile playing around the edges of his lips.  He drew his eyes back down to the wooden desk as Zhou Mi emerged from the shadows, his burgundy hair shining in the light of the single candle that lit the otherwise deafening blackness of the room.

“Kibum.”  Zhou Mi bowed his head in acknowledgment.  “Henry’s not here yet?”

“Of course not,” Kibum chuckled darkly.  “You know him well enough to have figure that out for yourself.”

Zhou Mi merely shrugged and glided to another empty desk that lay toppled on its side, three feet away from where Kibum resided.  In one swift movement, he lifted the desk back up onto its four stable legs and pulled up a lone chair.

“It’s been a while...since I’ve seen you, or this room.”  Zhou Mi’s eyes slowly drifted over every surface of the classroom; the room that had once been referred to as The Society.

“I didn’t think we would have to do this so soon,” Kibum said, staring into the darkest corner of the cold, empty cavern.  The school, once so lively and active, was now a graveyard, where The Society’s secrets would forever be buried.

“None of us did,” a soft voice said.  

Both Kibum and Zhou Mi looked up to see Henry lounging on the sill of the classroom’s single broken window.

“Hello, Henry.  You haven’t changed much have you?  Always late...” grumbled Zhou Mi.  He never tolerated tardiness, though he peculiarly seemed fine when he himself was late.

“It seems like you’ve become even more incorrigible,” Henry smirked.

“Well, I think we can all say that your relationship hasn’t changed in the slightest,” Kibum said matter-of-fact-ly.  He continued to drum his fingers on the desk, staring at nothing in particular.  Though he kept a cool image, inside, he was nervous.

Knowing how to keep his real emotions in check, knowing how to cover up how he really felt...he had become a master at it.  You had to be if you were in The Society.  Or rather, you had to learn how to make peace with your emotions if you ever wanted to leave The Society.

They all grew quiet, then, listening to the distant rustling of trees, the wind howling forlornly.  They all shivered.  The emptiness, the absence of life sent their minds elsewhere.

“They abandoned this school, I suppose,” Henry grunted, as he jumped down from the window sill.  “It’s so empty...kind of reminds me of...”

His voice trailed off, leaving nothing but the ghost of the words that Kibum and Zhou Mi knew he had been about to say.  They were in complete agreement.

“Enough,” Kibum said suddenly.  He didn’t want to remember.  “Our number one priority now is designating a new set of founders for the next generation.”

Zhou Mi and Henry stared unwillingly at each other.  The words that they were thinking, but were too scared to utter, seemed to hang in the air above their heads.

“Kibum...I don’t know if it’s such a good idea anymore.  The first attempt...didn’t turn out so well.”

Kibum sighed.  “The point of making mistakes is to utilize the knowledge gained and ultimately improve the second attempt.  We will get this right.”

“But Kibum,” Zhou Mi said, his voice so low and hesitant that it was very nearly a whisper, “don’t you remember what happened the first time?”

Oh, Kibum thought to himself, while aimlessly tracing the words that had been etched into the desk with his index finger, I remember.

I remember almost too well.