Title: Eterno

Author: chunjii-eiyo

Chapter: Prologue

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1,547K

Warning: AU

Summary: They met.

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The shadowy darkness of black fades into blinding white then fades into a more superior range of colors that assemble everything plain in his peripheral vision into three-dimensional: realistic, he thinks, real. It isn’t new to him, but is new to him at the same time. He has this feeling that pushes him to think that he’s been here before. He isn’t actually sure though because, maybe, that was so long ago. Long ago that he couldn’t even remember that he did. He couldn’t even remember when or how either, much more of what is he doing here right now.

He is standing in between tall, broad shelves of books; his height nearly less than half of it. The place is faintly dim and quiet, though as he walks forward, he couldn’t hear the brush of the sole of his black converse against the slightly rough wooden floor. The aisle then looks like somewhat an enormous tunnel that makes him feel tiny and weak, uncertain and oblivious.

Then he thinks, isn’t this a library? But it’s obviously night time. So why is he here at this time? Honestly speaking, his memories are in blur – of why’s and how’s and who’s, and when’s, especially.

He focuses his sight straight ahead. There’s a polished, wooden desk facing him, approximately fifteen meters away, he thinks, from where he stands. He walks forward, more rapidly, as he glances at both of his sides in bewilderment.

He stops just a few meters away though, tracing the horizontal scar on his left wrist, as an intersection meets him. In an aerial view, the place may look like a big cross with a very tiny spot at the center; the spot, which is him. He turns to his right, and sees rows of black boxes with tangled wires at the side, some are with blinking red and yellow dots; he doesn’t know what they are, not sure if he’s seen something like those before either. So, he turns to his left instead, and without further thinking, he walks towards it.  There are tables and chairs, some are placed in an organize way and some are scattered, in the spacious area – they look plastic and new, he notices. There’s no one around though, and he blinks his adjusting eyes in confusion at why he’s here, eyeing everything that may somehow give him the answers. But there is none, he finds out a little later.

He is about to turn around, thinking of leaving, when something catches his attention and he stops, turning to where it is, maybe. He hears a groan and a slightly deep ‘ouch’ from the end side corner of the room, on his right, then a sound of ruffling paper and a vaguely, familiar thud. He walks towards it, slowly as if a moth encircling a lamp, curious.

A man, or maybe just a boy, he’s not really sure, is sitting on the floor with a book in his hands, cross-legged and back arched slightly forward, like he’s bowing only that he’s motionless, partially. He stops and stares at him, blinking slowly, as he holds his breath. It maybe is a déjà vu to see him, but he isn’t actually sure if where he’s seen him or if he actually knows him, or if they ever met before. So he walks closer and closer until he’s standing just in front of the boy’s knees. He lets his own knees met the floor, and he stays still.

“I think I’ve seen you somewhere before.” He says quietly, soft, as if whispering, while cocking his head to the side and slightly ducking to take a look at the boy’s face. He smiles suddenly, he doesn’t know why though, but seeing the boy’s eyes closing and head rocking back and forth, he can’t help but do it. The boy is on the verge of his sleep, he could tell, and he forces a laugh back to his throat.

It is wrong. It is totally wrong. He knows it is, but still he reaches out and touches the boy’s cheek with the back of his hand, gentle and warm. He also knows, after some time, that the boy’s reaction is just normal.

The boy suddenly looks up with scared, wide eyes, obviously blinking the sleep as he looks around the place.

Normal, he points out, as he takes his hand back to his chest.

“Who’s there?” The boy asks in fear again, raising his hands to palm his cheek. He stays on his place though, and just bites his lower lip as he lets his slightly wide eyes roam around the place even more.

He mutters an apology, his usual self, bowing his head repeatedly even though he knows that it’s useless. Then the boy gasps, almost screaming, “Come out! I can hear you! Spit your apology on my face, not at the air!”

He pulls away, hands falling to the floor on his back, supporting his weight. He blinks, confused. He knows something is that something is wrong, but then he spills out what he thinks is the right thing now, at least.  “I’m sorry...” He says then, as the boy widens his eyes more. “I’m sorry for waking you up.” He pauses. “…and for scaring you.”

”! ! Who’s there? This is not funny! Show yourself!” The boy is fidgeting in fear, trembling even, and he blames himself for doing what he isn’t supposed to do. He doesn’t speak, and the boy’s eyes turn a little glassy from unshed tears.

“Sehun. Sehun, you’re just dreaming. Okay? You’re sleepy, alright?” The boy says to himself convincingly, but it doesn’t help much. His hands are waving in front of him, like shooing him away and then, slapping his face over and over again, but actually it doesn’t matter, because he can’t feel it. The boy can’t touch him. Couldn’t, he doesn’t know?

“I’m not hearing anything! I’m not hearing you!” The boy yells, who he now knew as Sehun. “Go away!”

He gulps, and reaches out to touch Sehun’s arm, again. He flinches away and blinks his eyes furiously in return, mouth ajar, shaking, scared.

“Can you see me?” Luhan asks, visible hope in his eyes, and he sits back up near Sehun, regaining his posture. It’s obvious. The answer is obvious, but still he tries. “Can you see me?”

Sehun’s face scrunches, throwing his arms around himself defensively. The leather-covered book from his lap falls to the floor. It looks old, and the pages are moist-stained due to, maybe, a long storage time.

He stares at the book for a while, thinking if he’s seen it before, too. It looks familiar, the handwriting on the page where it is opened, and the appearance of it as a whole. It’s very familiar.

“Who are you? Stop hiding! Show yourself!” Sehun almost yells, and he could say that the boy is trying to be brave even though his voice is shaky and unsure.

It makes him tear his gaze away from the book, and faces Sehun instead.

“You can hear me.” Luhan says, staring at Sehun with uncertainty and confusion. “How can you hear me? You must not hear me. No one’s supposed to hear me.”

“But I can! I do hear you!” Sehun replies loudly. “Why would I not hear you?”

“Because...” He starts, lowering his head. He feels so lost, and unsure. “...because you must not. I am not supposed to be heard.” He stops, and he looks back at Sehun who isn’t looking at him particularly.

The boy is staring ahead of him, as if he is a big hole, even when he’s face to face with him, just inches away.

“Why?” Sehun is calm, and he thinks he could trust this boy for once. “That’s- That’s nonsense.”

“It makes sense...” He answers, snapping. “…because I’m different.”

The boy’s facial expression turns into something like a child, a lost child, and he almost laughs despite the hard clenching of his heart.

“How could you be different?” Sehun asks, and he is thankful that the boy is already calm and somehow ‘talk-able’. “I’m hearing you, and I know you’re just hiding from me because you’re afraid that I’ll tell Mrs. Kim that you sneaked in here.” He stands up. “Don’t worry. I won’t do that. I sneaked in, too.” He hesitates, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “Now, can you show yourself to me? I won’t harm you. I promise.”

He stands up from the floor, and immediately reaches to touch Sehun fist. He does, and Sehun steps back.

“I can’t do that.” He says, a tear trickling down his cheek. “You must not see me, too. I must not be seen.” He sighs quietly.  “But I want to tell you that I won’t harm you even if you don’t see me.”

Sehun looks down to his feet. Maybe he thinks that this is just a prank or something, but he doesn’t want to predict something he actually doesn’t understand.

“Okay. Will you be here?” Sehun says then. “I mean, are you always sneaking and staying here?”

“Yes.” He says, turning round. He must leave now, go to somewhere not here, maybe, but then he stops, turning around again. “My name is Luhan.”