When Yoochun woke up the next morning, he found Junsu clinging to him in bed. Yoochun's cheeks were stiff with dried tear tracks, as was also evident on Junsu's sleeping face. The baritone made no move to get up. He laid there with Junsu in his soft bed, thoughts of Jaejoong, his best friend, running through his mind.

Where is the body now? What are the autopsists doing with Jaejoong's body now? Has the media released anything about the singer's death?

All these questions, but no answers... Yet.

"--chun..." Junsu murmured sleepily.

"Hmm?" he said softly, petting Junsu's hair fondly.

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

A pause. "Yes..."

"I want his funeral today..."

"Junsu-ah..."

"Now, Chunnie!" he whined. "I want to bury hyung as fast as possible and get this over with!"

"Junsu--"

"And I want Yunho and Changmin to be there." He gazed straight into Yoochun's eyes, passion and incredible sorrow burrowed deep into the man's eyes. "I want them to stand beside us and tell the world that Jaejoong is the most beautiful creature that has ever been and that he was killed by the people who don't know boundaries. He didn't commit suicide. Our Youngwoong was murdered by sasaeng fans!"

Yoochun wrapped his arms around Junsu's body as he shed tears, Yoochun's own tears soaking Junsu's night shirt.

"I... will try my best... to get them to release Jaejoong's body..." Yoochun whispered between quiet gasps.

"Now, Chunnie... Now..." Junsu sobbed.

Yoochun called the police, and they released the body willingly. There was nothing more to the case than that Kim Jaejoong, age twenty-seven, had died of self suffocation by hanging himself at the Han River. The doctors weren't really interested in why he'd killed himself, but Yoochun already knew.

Yoochun's manager called Jaejoong's relatives while Junsu and Yoochun called certain close friends of Jaejoong's--Jiyong, Heechul. And then they called Yunho and Changmin.

"Hello?"

"Y-Yunho hyung..."

"Junsu-ah? Is that you?"

Junsu chewed on his bottom lip, uncertain whether he could stand to hear Yunho's voice. "Chunnie..." he murmured, handing the phone out to Yoochun. He then opted to sit on the couch with a fluffy pillow hugged close to his chest.

"Yunho hyung..." he answered, eyeing Junsu worriedly.

"Was that Junsu just now?"

"Y-Yes... He's a bit broken right now."

"Why? What's wrong? Let me talk to him."

"Hyung... Jaejoong is dead..."

There was a bit of silence and then Yunho called out, "Ch-Changmin-ah!!!!"

"What, hyung?" Changmin voice said in the background.

"Y-Yoochun," Yunho said. "Tell Changmin. I can't tell him..."

The phone was handed off rather roughly as Yunho went to go cry, or so that's what Yoochun thought, but a loud, "! Jaejoong, you stupid man!!" made him think otherwise.

"Hyung, what--why is Yunho hyung cursing? What happened to Jaejoong hyung?" Changmin's questions sliced deeper and deeper into Yoochun's heart.

"Is that Minnie?" Junsu asked, releasing some of the pressure he was putting on the pillow.

Yoochun nodded. Junsu waved at the phone, as if Changmin could see, but the baritone got the message.

"Junsu says hi, Changmin," he said.

"Tell him I said hi too... But what happened to Jaejoong hyung?"

"Jaejoong is dead, Changmin-ah... He committed suicide last night... The funeral is today. Junsu and I want you and Yunho hyung to be there. Will you come?"

A soft, almost inaudible exhale left Changmin's mouth and Yoochun waited for a response.

"O-Of course we will, hyung," he said softly, shakily. "Wh-What time, hyung?"

"Noon."

"We'll be there..."

And of course, on the day of a dark event the sun decided to shine. Yoochun wanted to curse the skies for smiling on such a morbid day, but what entity would care about his cries? Life was taken from the most beautiful creature on Earth to satisfy the gods' desire for perfection.

Four members of the original TVXQ stood before a coffin with some family members and a couple friends. The funeral had been so sudden hardly anyone could attend.

The ceremony finished with consoling words of encouragement by the families to the singers and vice versa.

Yoochun walked up to Yunho and put an arm on his shoulder. "Your hair has gotten long," Yoochun muttered.

Yunho chuckled. "What made Joongie do this, Yoochun?" he asked.

"Sasaeng fans..." he said softly.

"Always them, isn't it?" the singer growled.

Heechul suddenly stepped forward. "Now don't cause a scene here, Yunho," he joked. "If anything, come with me to go get a drink and cry your heart out then."

Yunho grinned grimly and wiped a stray tear from his eye. "Alright..."

"Min, Junsu, Ji Yong, do you guys want to come?" asked Heechul.

They all shook their heads.

"Hyukjae's coming to pick me up," Junsu said softly.

"I have work to do," Ji Yong answered.

"I'm going to lunch with a friend," Changmin added. "Yunho hyung, you'll be okay, right?"

"I'll take good care of him, Min," Heechul assured him, clapping a hand on Yunho's shoulder.

Yunho turned to Yoochun. "What about you? What're you doing?"

"Nothing really," he replied. "But I might check to see how Yoohwan is doing."

"Alright then," Yunho said. "If you need anything, call."

Yoochun chuckled and each person dispersed to do their respective activities. Going to visit Yoohwan is a good idea, Yoochun thought to himself as he walked out of the funeral room, but as he reached into his pocket for his phone, he found emptiness.

"Must've left it inside," he muttered, turning on his heel to head back in.

Yoochun felt lighter walking back into the funeral home. Junsu was right to put Jaejoong in his grave as soon as possible. For the first time in a long time, Yoochun felt a remote sliver of happiness.

Yoochun bent down and reached for his phone on the table, turning it over in his hands a couple of times before smiling. He gazed at Jaejoong's framed picture that was surrounded by tons of flowers. The roses were from Heechul because he said Jaejoong was always so delicate and loving. The daisies were from Yunho because Jaejoong was so innocent. Changmin gave Jaejoong gladiolus because he was so strong for all of his friends. Ji Yong was funny and had put a coffee cup near the flowers, but with the coffee cup was a small bundle of assorted wild flowers tucked neatly in between the cup and the cooling grip; he had picked the flowers as he walked to the funeral house, he said, a symbol that Jaejoong was unique and unpredictable.

Yoochun frowned as he counted the number of flower bundles. There should've been seven bundles. There were eight. Right in between the purple lilacs from Jaejoong's sisters and Junsu's gladiolus, purple hydrangeas lay nestled neatly.

Perseverance.

Yoochun wasn't sure whether it meant for Jaejoong to persevere in the afterlife or for the members to move on with life, but Yoochun did know that those flowers had not been there before he left. Holding onto his phone as if it were his only source of keeping whatever devil that was following him away, he dashed to his car, climbing inside and locking the doors. His breaths came in short, ragged pants, scared and confused.

"They were only flowers..." he muttered to himself as he unlocked his phone. He scrolled down his list of contacts until he found Yoohwan's name--or what sufficed as his name since Yoohwan had taken his phone as a joke one day and changed his contact name to "my favorite brother."

Holding the phone up to his ear, Yoochun listened to the dial tone as he waited for Yoohwan to pick up. "Hello?" a deep voice rumbled over the receiver, but Yoochun didn't smile.

"Hey, Yoohwan-ah..." Yoochun mumbled.

"Are you alright, hyung?" he asked, and Yoochun could hear the director shouting that Yoohwan needed to get back on set.

"I'm fine," he finally answered, though not at all certain that he meant it.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You sound... down."

"Yeah, I'm alright," he said, unsure whether he was trying to convince himself or Yoohwan.

"I heard about what happened to Jaejoong hyung." Yoohwan's voice was soft, as if someone were trying to eavesdrop on his conversation. "Is that what this is about?"

"No," he replied hastily. "The funeral just ended."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there--for you and for him."

There was a short silence before Yoochun inhaled deeply and said, "Well, you should be getting back--"

"Hyung," Yoohwan said seriously. "If anything is bothering you, you know you can come to me, right?"

"I know, Yoohwan-ah..." he muttered. "You should get back to work."

"Alright. Bye, hyung. Drive safely. I love you."

"I love you too, Yoohwan. Be safe." Without another word, Yoochun hung up, not wanting to speak to his brother any longer; in fact, he didn't want to talk with anyone. Turning the car key, the engine sputtered to life, and Yoochun shifted the gears before driving back to the apartment--the apartment that had one less person to house.

When he arrived home, Yoochun barely had the motivation to ascend the elevator. Why should he? What was there in this apartment now that Jaejoong was gone? His best friend had left him. Nevertheless, he trudged his worn body out of the car and shuffled into the lift, momentarily forgetting what floor he lived on before remembering and pressing the button.

The house was indifferent to Yoochun's present. Usually bursting with life, the house was grey and melancholy. It didn't care that Yoochun was home; it wanted Jaejoong--or it was just Yoochun's imagination conjuring up a story. Yoochun paced over to the kitchen table where the three of them used to eat, but the only thing on the table was the drunk-written note Jaejoong had left behind. Huffing an angry sigh, Yoochun snatched it up, having read it a million times. His fingers were poised at the edges of the paper, intending to rip it in half again and again, but it never happened. Instead, he folded it neatly and put it in his nightstand drawer. It would serve as a reminder that he would get his revenge.

With little motivation to do anything else, Yoochun stripped out of his funeral attire and slipped into pajamas. He laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. Jaejoong and he used to lay together and talk--just for the hell of it. Sometimes they'd sing each other lullabies or browse twitter together. They used to even tell stories. Jaejoong was fantastic at making things up on spot. One time, he told an anecdote about a white horse that fell in love with a human, but the human only wanted to ride around; so the horse became the human's pet, glad that even though the human never loved him back the same way, they still were together happily.

But even remembering those memories of Jaejoong and his tales did not warm Yoochun's heart. It kept him cold and indifferent. Before long, Yoochun was dreaming.

He stood on a high cliff, or he assumed it was high. The wind tasted of salt and freedom. The grass beneath his feet was greener than any hue he'd ever seen. A cottage sat to his right, a small, quaint place with terra-cotta roofing. Yoochun almost felt happy--almost. A nagging, ominous feeling filled his soul with dread as he slowly spun around, taking the whole of his environment into account. Suddenly, near the edge of the cliff, Jaejoong stood, but Yoochun knew this was not his Jaejoong. His Jaejoong was tall, strong, proud, and fearless. This Jaejoong's shoulders were tense, entire body shrinking back in fear and uncertainty.

"Leave!!" he croaked. "Don't look behind you!!" His eyes were wild, frightened.

Against his better judgment, Yoochun whirled around and stared at a painted face, one with haphazardly applied lipstick, thick eyeliner, blotchy concealer, and overly blushed cheeks, but it wasn't the makeup that alarmed Yoochun; it was her eyes--the brown orbs devoid of sanity. This was the sasaeng.

"No!!" Yoochun screamed, tripping over his feet as he stumbled backward.

"But, oppa, don't you love me?" she sang, inching closer, and Yoochun crawled backwards, eyes unable to leave the gruesome sight of his worst nightmare.

"I warned you," Jaejoong's smooth voice hissed, full of fear. "I warned you."

Jaejoong's raspy voice echoed in Yoochun's ears, even after he was shaken awake frightfully by a frantic Junsu. "Chunnie, are you okay?" Junsu's shaking voice asked.

Yoochun nodded slightly and laid staring at the ceiling, silent. And even then, Junsu knew a lie without having to be told.