Wufan’s eyes flutter open, waking to the bright sunlight pouring madly into his room. Off with his feet, he grudgingly drags himself, out of his room and into the hallway. He lazily runs a hand through his golden hair while he stifles a yawn when an amorous scent wafts through the air, fully enticing all his senses.

Wufan excitedly runs to the kitchen, exclaiming, “Yixing!”

“Hyung!”

Wufan frowns as confusion dawns on his face. Wide-eyed Kyungsoo stares at him, surprised but with concern and understanding written on his umma face. Kyungsoo smiles wanly at Wufan, slight crinkles forming at the sides of his eyes. “Your favorite’s the main menu today.”

“Oh.”

It seems that Wufan is still unable to recover from his blurting. Even he is surprised that his supposed-to-be-lover’s name spewed forth unknowingly and involuntarily from his mouth, from his lips. But, somehow, saying the name felt natural. He could only wonder.

“Don’t you ‘Oh’ me, Wufan! Now, shoo! Go away as I do my business!” As Wufan obediently leaves the kitchen, Kyungsoo mumbles to himself, “Poor boy.”

Wufan goes to the living room to watch some TV shows but the trio—Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Chen—already beat him to it. They are fighting over which channel they should watch. Baekhyun keeps on whining and screaming 'GG', trying to take the remote from Chanyeol’s grasp, but later Wufan sees that Chanyeol puts the remote in his pants right where his crotch is.

“Take it from me if you can~” Chanyeol teases, waving his index finger in front of Baekhyun and using the same finger, pokes Baekhyun at the tip of his nose.

Baekhyun’s cheeks flare red. He and Chanyeol have this spark but neither of them is taking the move to ask each other out. Chen finds their relationship pretty dumb.

“Oh, just get on with it!” Chen exclaims exasperatedly. Glaring at Baekhyun, he continues to say, “If you’re not going to get it—“

To Chanyeol’s ultimate shock, Chen just inserts his hand down into his pants without giving a care in the world. Both Chanyeol’s and Baekhyun’s jaws are dropped to the floor, their eyes barely hanging from their rightful sockets, luminous marks appearing on their foreheads. Chanyeol’s says ‘ OFF’; on the other hand, Baekhyun’s is ‘JEALOUSY’ coupled with a murderous glare.

Chen finally removes the remote from its hiding place, gleeful that the object is now in his possession. Unable to recover from shock, Chanyeol and Baekhyun sit still on their spots like statues with funny and weird expressions on their faces. Chen transfers the channel to his favorite one, which is apparently Disney Channel, much to the other two’s great disdain.

On the sofa on the other side of the living room is Kai, his body splayed comfortably against it as he sleeps soundly and maybe…peacefully. Kai swings his arms forward, screaming, “Don’t come near me!”

Ooh, he must be having a nightmare. Should I wake him up?, Wufan wonders to himself.

“Bastard!” Kai shouts. He rolls to one side, and Pak! He falls off the sofa, waking up with a groan. “Ouch... What... Oh, no. I’ve got a bruise!”

Wufan is about to help him up but Suho beats him to it. “Come, I’ll treat your wounds.”

Kai raises an eyebrow. “Stop overreacting. It’s just a bruise not a wound.”

“A bruise is still a wound,” Suho replies curtly, offering a hand to Kai.

Kai takes Suho’s hand sheepishly, rolling his eyes quite exaggeratedly. “You know, a wound is supposed to be a wound when it bleeds.”

“A bruise is a bloodless wound,” Suho argues, abruptly pulling Kai from behind him and off to another part of the room where the first aid kit is kept.

Kai grunts in annoyance and sighs continuously as Suho tends to his so-called wound.

Wufan chuckles at Suho’s unusual thoughtfulness.

And, it makes him remember… Where are Luhan and Sehun? It isn’t normal for them to be…out?

Then, a voice suddenly speaks from behind, making Wufan jump from his place. “They’re in their room doing what-we-already-know, if that’s what you’re thinking about.”

“Oh, it’s you, Xiumin,” Wufan says, relieved.

“What do you mean it’s me?” Xiumin says, puffing his cheeks like a hamster in additional to pouting his lips.

That baozi face again.

“N-nothing,” Wufan stutters. “It’s just, I’m still getting used to a life here.”

“No need to get used to, you’ll eventually remember everything.” And Xiumin leaves with a smile on his face, returning his attention to his iPad 3.

Curious, Wufan asks, “Why are you so addicted to Temple Run?”

Xiumin wonders for a while, but says anyway, “I want to beat Yixing’s score. The top score.”

Xiumin turns his back to Wufan and heads back to wherever he came from—which is safe to assume that he actually came from the kitchen, eating Kyungsoo’s half-prepared dishes; ooh, that glutton!—making Wufan smile at yet another wonder.

How he became friends with all these people in the dorm is still a mystery to him, but right now he is more than happy to be friends with them. They are fun to be with. Having diverse personalities around him makes the atmosphere light and bright and comfortable. Almost peaceful.

Wufan, knowing that he doesn’t have a place in the house to ponder on certain things, goes out into the terrace where he finds Tao sitting on a chair and reading a book, earplugs plugged into his ears. Wufan takes another chair and sits beside Tao. Well, not really beside. That small table stands in between them.

Tao, even though seeing Wufan from the corner of his eyes, ignores the presence of the much older male. There is silence for a while, but being Tao, he stops flipping the pages, puts the book down, removes the earphones from his ears, and says a bit timidly, “I’ve always loved the panoramic view of the city from here.”

“I know,” Wufan says absent-mindedly, looking below at the smaller buildings and the mountains from farther away, as if he’s just watching a live diorama. “I feel the same about it.”

Tao’s lips pull up into the corners of his face, then, he turns to look at Wufan and continues, “You know, I never really liked living uphill. But because this is all I could afford, I had to take the bait and live with all eleven of you. It was sickening at first. How everyone seems gay and happy and…I’m sorry for the term, but I really found everyone shallow…and immature. But after I became close with Yixing-ge, I finally understood…well, not all but almost everything about you, guys. It was me who needed to adjust and who needed to understand. I was so foolish I didn’t know I was the one being shallow and immature. I’m sorry.”

Wufan purses his lips. He doesn’t know how he is supposed to react with what the boy just said. His memories are still blank, and he knows he likes all of them, but this heart-to-heart type of conversation… Wufan doesn’t think he’s prepared for it.

“What was Yixing like?” Wufan blurts out, which surprises him yet again. But Tao smiles sadly. Quickly, Wufan says, “Oh, I’m sorry. I guess that’s supposed to be off topic now.”

Tao chuckles softly. “No, no, not at all. It’s just… Haven’t you finished reading his diary yet? You should have an idea of what he was by now.”

“I have finished reading everything actually,” Wufan confesses. “I just couldn’t bring myself to believe that I was in that sort of relationship with him, that he was that sort of person at all. I know he is lovable from the way he writes, but somehow… I just don’t know. There seems to be something missing.”

“Of course, there'll always be. You don’t remember him.” Then, Tao mumbles to himself, which Wufan fails to hear, “And you will never ever remember him again.”

Wufan goes on to say, “I really find it sentimental how he wrote me poetries, made entries about our getting there, when we were finally there, and our—“ Wufan blushes fervently. “—our times together, if you know what I mean—“ To which Tao nods in perfect comprehension at what Wufan is trying to say. Why is he this shy now? Tao finds it cute. “—and drawings! He drew so well. He drew a lot of me and one self-portrait there, I guess. Everything is so sweet and passionate. Every word is just so personal, and there were times when I just cried. We seemed to be so in love…”

“You were,” Tao confirms. “You two were lovebirds. We couldn’t believe you even—“ Tao stops when he realizes that he is about to tell Wufan that he planned to kill himself too but failed to do so because of Yixing’s supernatural intervention.

“What disturbs me though is his last entry.”

Tao raises his eyebrows. “Why, what did it say?”

“It looks like an address to me,” Wufan replies. “Fanxing Studio.”

“That’s all?”

Wufan nods.

“Would you like to go there after lunch? See things for yourself?”

Wufan draws his brows closer together. “You know where it is?”

“Of course, it’s Yixing’s beloved studio. And yours as well.”

*          *          *

Wufan and Tao find themselves standing outside a white three-storey building, the huge lettering of FANXING STUDIO written across the signboard.

“It’s been closed for about a week now,” Tao remarks. “But since it’s yours, you can re-open it anytime you want.”

Wufan says nothing. Instead, he pushes the glass door open and lets himself in. Tao stands beside him and lets his fingers fumble on the light switches. Once the lights are on, Wufan takes in everything.

Unpolished wooden floor, lonely hallways, empty rooms and lockers, dusty shoe racks.

In one of the dancing rooms he enters, he looks at his reflection on the mirror. Then, blurred images appear in front of him.

There is a man, whom he seems to be dancing with. There is a man, who seems to be reading a book for him as he lies down on his lap. There is a man, who stands at the center of the room, guiding him as he learns a dance. There is a man, who embraces him and kisses him passionately.

Wufan feels the tears trickling down his face when the images disperse and he can’t remember what he was just thinking about or what he has just remembered or what he has just seen.

He looks at the mirror bewilderedly and moves on to the next room.

What he sees next astounds him.

On all four walls are pictures of him and a man, whom Wufan guesses to be Zhang Yixing. Different scenes, different places, different expressions. In most of the pictures, it was the two of them doing something. Eating ice cream, playing with children, reading books, taking a bath, dancing, walking around, swimming, playing sports, sleeping, fighting. Others were either of him alone or Yixing alone. The whole thing is both a mosaic and a collage. So wonderfully, so artistically, so creatively made.

On one side of the room seems to be a stand covered with white cloth right next to a small table. Wufan walks over to it, removes the cloth, and gasps at the next object.

A portrait of his. Of a smiling Wu Yifan.

So perfectly done. As if truly captured by the lens of camera. Except that it really wasn’t. Wufan lets his fingers run over the image. It has been made of canvas.

Wufan stares at the portrait for a while.

On the small table beside it, he sees an envelope.

To: Wufan

Wufan carefully tears open the envelope, and as he what he has expected, pulls out a parchment paper that contains a letter written only for him. Then, he starts to read silently:

Dear Wufan,

I’m sure you can’t still remember me by the time you have read this. This is not a suicide letter. How I came to write this is all thanks to Tao.

As what you can see, I have made a great art—one of my most meticulous masterpieces—out of my passion for you. I was crazy for you, and this was how I thought I could show you how much I really love you. This is supposed to be my wedding gift for you, but sad to say, we never got the chance to exchange our vows. And our rings, as well.

Even though fate has doomed us both, I still believe and forever will that we are bound to each other. While I have given up for you for your own sake, for your own happiness, I hope you don’t give up on yourself. You have proven to me already how deep your love is for me, but I will not let anything be in exchange for your life.

Move on. Live a life without me. Even though it hurts. But I’ll be fine since I’ll be moving on to the next cycle and who knows, perhaps one day we’ll see each other again.

I just have this one wish I want you to grant.

Take care of Tao. He is still a child. And because I’ll no longer be there for him, I’m passing the baton to you to take good care of whom I treat as my own little brother. Foster an unbreakable bond with him, and I assure you, you will be happy with him.

And the other members of our group as well.

While they may be kids at times, they are really a bunch of good souls. Just understand them for the meantime when you can’t still remember anything. Retrieval of your memories may take a long while, but I ask you to be patient.

Wufan, I may not have said this enough before, but for this one last time, please do know that I really, really, really, love you. Forever and always.

Love,

Yixing

When Wufan finishes reading the letter, his tears start to fall endlessly. He does not know why. He does not understand. What is he supposed to know? What is he supposed to remember but can’t remember? Why are this person’s words tugging down deeply into his heart? Why does he ache? Why does something feel so irreplaceable?

Wufan clutches at his chest, just above where his heart should be. As he cries and cries, not completely knowing why his tears are really falling like a cascade of waterfalls, he feels an arm wrap around his shoulders.

Tao.

Tao rubs a hand across his back, soothing him with his gestures but not saying anything. Wufan mentally thanks him for that. For a long time, they sit on the floor. Wufan sniffs once, closes his eyes, and before he knows it, he has fallen asleep.

When Wufan wakes up, he finds himself leaning against the wall, Tao’s head placed on his shoulder.

Oh, I fell asleep.

Wufan fondly looks at the sleeping Tao and a smile forms on his lips. He raises a hand to pat Tao’s head but realizes that the said hand is still holding onto the letter.

While he cannot remember anything, he folds back the letter and decides to keep it. That letter, this studio, the diary, and the guitar, and those pictures, too, are his only mementos of the man he used to love. He won’t want to lose those precious items. But now he knows that he should focus on something else entirely.

A new life.

Then, Tao awakes and lifts his head from Wufan’s shoulders. Wufan stands up and offers a hand to Tao, who rubs his eyes with the balls of his hands. “Come, Tao.”

Confused, Tao asks, “What about the studio?”

“I’ll think about it, but for now let us go home.”

Tao gladly takes Wufan’s hands.

When they do get home, all the others look at them with surprised looks on their faces.

Wufan and Tao have not released their hands.

***The End***

[A/N]:

Annyeong~ I've finally ended this angst fic.

Did you guys cry? How do you like the ending?

I put in a hint of Taoris but in here, I just want a strong friendship

for the two of them. I think it's the most appropriate.

After all, Wufan just lost the love of his life.

Though he might not remember it, his heart and body do.

I really do hope from the bottom of my heart,

that you liked this fic even though it's really tragic.

Heheheh~ I like writing tragic stories.

To my subscribers, readers, and upvoters,

THANK  YOU VERY MUCH for putting up with my fic

until the end, even though there might have been times

when I have not done well according to your expectations.

Again, thank you very much!!!

Lastly, please do LEAVE COMMENTS!!! I'd like to know some reactions~

See you again next time in my other fics~

Saranghae yo~