"So you remember absolutely nothing?" the boy asked, rocking on the couch as if to the beat of a song he only could hear. "Not even any parts?"

Straining his memory, Yunho sighed.

"No, I remember everything until I was eighteen, and then in parts. I remember that when I was seventeen, my parents and my brother had an accident and I was left alone. I remember a little bit more when I was running around at part-time jobs... lately I think I've been working at a car wash, but otherwise nothing concrete".

"Oh... sorry. I really sorry, I should have at least come..."

"Never mind," he cut him off in mid-sentence. Yunho tried to smile and cheer up his friend. "I'm not sure it would be that easy. But I remember you well... And to be honest, I missed you."

"And I missed you so much, too!" the guy smiled broadly. "You know my parents... I just came back to town a few months ago, I wanted to find you, but you found yourself. And I was just passing by!"

And he laughed again, pouring warmth into the emptiness behind his ribs.

Junsu... would Yunho ever be able to forget him?

Never - by his own will.

Of course, he had changed a bit since the school days. He had grown up, finally looked free and happy and no longer the child who was bound by rigid limits. Now he glowed inside and out - as a child, his parents had cut off his wings as soon as they wanted to grow. Yes, Yunho remembered Junsu's parents very well. Maybe because his own mother and father had behaved similarly with their son. As if their children didn't have a life of their own. As if they didn't deserve the right to choose. If he had made an extra gesture, hours of monotonous reprimands, lectures, restrictions and prohibitions would have descended right there.

But they did not become friends on the basis of common problems.

Junsu loved soccer. He often stayed after class to kick the ball around, and for some reason he always did it alone - Yunho happened to notice him when he came out of school late. He just didn't want to go home.

He watched him for a while, then sat down on the steps at the entrance. A few minutes later, the ball accidentally flew the other way and landed at Yunho's feet. Of course, he pushed it back. The boy smiled gratefully, offered to join in, and was so overjoyed to hear the agreement that he beamed with an infectious smile throughout the game.

He seemed disarmingly sincere to Yunho. Since then, they have played football together, sometimes staying out so late after school that they were both punished at home.

"Junsu-ya... to be honest, there's something else," Yunho tried to hide from thoughts of his family, whom he missed terribly anyway, and suddenly remembered a little oddity that had been haunting him since he woke up after the accident.

"Really?" his friend perked up immediately. "And what is it?"

"Well, I can't remember, it's just... I felt it as soon as I came to my senses and my head cleared. It felt like I had forgotten something very important, you know? Something that seemed to me to be the meaning of life. I can't stop thinking about it."

"Oh... and what might that be? Or who?"

Pursing his lips, Yunho sighed heavily and shrugged.

*

He could not remember the exact moment of the crash, nor could he really remember the last six months of his life. As his aunt told him, he had been in an accident eight days ago and had miraculously survived. In addition to a broken left leg and arm, internal bleeding and organ damage that required surgery, the driver of the car that hit him left Yunho with a severe brain injury.

Five days in a coma — that's what his aunt said, wiping away tears.

Traumatic coma, partial memory loss and numbness on the left side of his body. He could feel it, but when he touched the skin, it was as if he was touching it through a thick blanket. The doctors assured him that after such an accident he still got off lightly, they said that Yunho will recover quickly, his legs will walk, the stitches will fade, the memory will return. One day. Tomorrow or next year. Maybe it won't come back - the brain is a delicate thing.

Under the medication that slowly entered his bloodstream through the IV tube, Yunho felt no pain, only dizziness and nausea. Seven days after the whole incident, and two days after waking up, he could at least turn over in bed without the help of others. The next day, he asked his aunt to pick up his belongings and a box of money from his apartment because no one had promised him a quick return home. And on the ninth day, as he was being taken to the outside in a wheelchair in the park near the hospital, he suddenly noticed his friend from middle school - how long they had not seen each other!

Junsu saw him from the other end and broke into a joyful run, laughing. So bright that white spots appeared in Yunho's eyes, but his heart began to beat excitedly.

He had never had closer friends in his entire life. So close that they would go through fire and water together, so close that he would say yes to any request, so close that it would not be a pity to give the last to a friend.

"Hyung..." he exhaled as he reached him, hands on his knees and breathing heavily. "Yunho-hyung!"

"Yeah," the second guy smiled and held out his right, more or less healthy hand. Diving under it, Junsu hugged him tightly.

He didn't ask any stupid questions, because he saw that Yunho, completely wrapped in bandages, was in the hospital park for some reason. He helped him into the ward, chatted happily about how glad he was to meet him, and then they talked for a long time, catching up on lost years. Junsu came to see him the next day as well. And the day after that.

It seemed to Yunho that they never had a break in communication. He was almost happy, surrounded by the attention of an old friend he had never hoped to see again.

Almost, because something tugged at him, annoying, monotonously repeating: you forgot something important.

But he didn't remember anything.

*

On the sixth day after his Human's disappearance, Jaejoong returned to the rooftop house because he couldn't sleep in his own. He took Human's windbreaker off the back of a chair, wrapped himself in it, inhaled someone else's smell, and went to sleep on the floor on the blankets that were spread out, preferring to sleep on them instead of his comfortable bed. He found himself there on the seventh day, having eaten a breakfast of leftovers from the fridge. Went back to his own house. He spent the eighth and ninth days with lawyer Yong, sorting papers and listening to explanations about the work of the café - now his own.

On the tenth day, he tried to go back to the rooftop house, but the key did not fit. His heart was pounding, and he thought someone might be inside, so he knocked on the door. No one opened it. There was no light in the window either.

After that, he went there every day, trying to find at least someone to ask, but the apartment was empty. On the fifteenth day, the light in the window came on.

The woman who now lived there with her daughter regretfully replied that she could not help in any way and that she had no right to reveal the owner's personal data. The last glimmer of hope flickered out and fell silent.

And it all seems to be... nothing special, right? Well, he's grateful, whatever, he can't repay with anything anyway. And that person would hardly insist on paying because he took care of Jaejoong with such attention and tenderness, giving an account of his actions, taking responsibility on his own, not under influence or pressure. He sincerely cared for him and tried to improve the unconscious being of a stranger. Jaejoong vaguely remembered that before he fell into an unconscious state, he left the house, being broken from top to bottom, and thoughtlessly went to a place where he was probably found. The place itself is not imprinted in his memory.

Thinking about it almost all the time, Jaejoong watched sorrowfully as the raindrops fell on the glass, trying to keep his mind from wandering to other painful thoughts.

November... more than two weeks have passed.

He no longer remembered when he began to measure time not by a calendar, but by the beginning of a new life. The first day of awakening. The second day after disappearing. He counted every day as if it made sense.

The coffee was too strong today, the sixteenth day. Grimacing, Jaejoong took another sip and sadly pushed the cup away, lying down on the table. It was still dark, even though it was past seven in the morning. It would be a long day. To be honest, he didn't want to leave the house at all, especially in this disgusting weather - he couldn't stand the rain, and the rain couldn't stand him either, because it started to come suspiciously often as soon as he gathered his strength and left the four walls.

But he really couldn't drag his feet any longer - if not everything was at stake, then... well, everything. Since his mysterious person was no longer there.

Jaejoong missed him. He didn't even know if he was really attached to a person he couldn't really remember, or if he was just making up an image of some kind of hero-savior, noble, kind, warm and caring, and attached to him, not real, woven from fantasies before going to bed.

He didn't know. He really didn't care.

In their strangely awkward situation, he did not want to grasp logic and common sense, which expressed extremely unpleasant assumptions.

You feed on illusions

He's probably dead

You'll never find him

That's right, people don't leave their homes for no reason. If they do, they definitely take a large sum of money with them, they don't leave it on the shelf in the box.

"But you know what?" Jaejoong whispered to himself, imagining that his Human could hear him. "I think you're alive. Alive, for sure. Not just because I want it to be, it just feels that way to me. And it also seems to me that you and I have switched places and now I'm talking to you. It doesn't seem fair, doesn't it? At least I was there with you, but you..."

*

The sign with the name faded a bit and was covered with streaks of rain mixed with street dust.

How long has it been since Jaejoong was here?

His mother opened this café under the name of the famous composer, when he was about eight years old. She paid a designer a lot for the interior, invested even more in repairs, hired a few employees, hired a manager - all with the money of his recently passed away father. Out of her great love for music, she even installed a grand piano in the middle of the hall - black and shiny, matching the black and white interior. It looked luxurious, but for a small cafe... like a bull in a china shop, surrounded by only ten tables.

Pushing the door open, Jaejoong walked in and looked around. There were no visitors.

A man stood behind the bar, rubbing glasses with a towel on his shoulder and another in his hand.

"Welcome," he said, looking up at the guest. "If you want breakfast, I can offer you a croissant or a cake made the day before yesterday, so it's better to have a croissant, it's at least yesterday's. You can have any coffee you want, because I'll make it right now. Or tea."

"Oh..." Jaejoong froze in confusion as he listened to the continuous stream of words. Is everything that bad here? "No, I'm not... not a guest. My name is Kim Jaejoong."

"Ah! Mr. Yong told me about you," the man put down the glass, put down the towel and looked curiously at the person across from him. He was hardly older, this new boss of them. "Park Yoochun."

They shook hands and fell into silence for a minute.

The change in management forced him to wait a little longer with the dismissal, arousing interest in the near future and possible changes. It all started so well: a few days ago they finally received the missing part of last month's salary. However, Yoochun was expecting someone experienced and mature to take the place of the director, because neither the first owner of the café nor Yong Haeson, who replaced her, had any idea about the restaurant business - just his personal humble opinion, if anyone is interested.

Will something reasonable work out now that a third person has come to run it, so young and obviously inexperienced ... well, it was really curious to find out, so they decided to stay a little longer. After all, the place was good, the work was not bad for their age. And the location - there are a lot of offices around, a nice area. It would only take a different concept, a different strategy - they would all live happily, complaining that there were not enough hands and that there were too many guests for the poor ten tables.

Now they didn't even know where to put their only four hands.

"Junsu-ya!" Yoochun called, tucking the second towel into the waistband of his apron. Accustomed to the silence, Jaejoong shuddered, but quickly pulled himself together and waited for the second employee - probably him, who else could be here?

"Junsu-ya" floated smoothly around the corner after a few moments and looked cautiously at the stranger.

"This is our new owner, Kim Jaejoong," Yoochun explained, approaching them from behind the bar, on which he leaned with his elbows.

"Oh, really?" the guy raised his eyebrows in surprise and immediately smiled, making Jaejoong freeze.

He was so... bright, this Junsu. Starting with the hair and the light bangs scattered carelessly on his forehead, the lips puckered into an infectious smile, the eyes-drops, and ending with the snow-white clothes. Jaejoong was stunned, even lost for words, his mental equilibrium shattered for a moment.

This guy just glowed like...

"...an angel?"

"Not really," the blond one said with a hoarse laugh, holding out his hand. "My name is Kim Junsu. I'm kind of... generally, I help out here and there."

Jaejoong was confused.

Either the spoken word that was out of place or that he had fallen under the thick charm of the guy from the first second on, which surrounded him more and more the longer he looked at him. He had never seen such a light in a person before - literally like a light bulb burning inside. He was almost sure that this guy in front of him was a mirage. A fiction. A creature out of fantasy novels, anyone but an ordinary person.

Not wanting to embarrass himself any further, Jae finally broke out of his stupor and shook hands, dropping the awkwardness:

"Nice to meet you..."

"Don't worry, Mr. Director," Yoochun patted him on the shoulder, amused by the reaction, "every new person has felt his insidious charm. It will pass quickly. In fact, our Junsu is joking idiotically, he can't remember the recipe for a normal latte - check it out, he even scribbled a note for himself, and ... Oh, don't hit me! Junsu-ya! It hurts, damn it!"

Jaejoong watched the two guys, one of whom ripped a towel off the other's shoulder and began to whip him with all his heart, chase around the small hall of the cafe. The banter, accompanied by laughter and rattling chairs, made Jaejoong smile for the first time since a while.

He definitely liked these two.