I cried when I came up with the concept to this one-shot.

I cried when I started writing it.

I cried when I edited it.

I cried as I got ready to post this up.

I’m probably crying now as you read this...(or sleeping...but you know...)

Speaking of editing…I did a crap job.  One it was just too much and made me cry.  Two the tenses are all over the place, they don’t sound god awful, but I keep switching tenses throughout and just got overwhelmed by all of it though I did try and fix some of it.  Maybe I’ll come back one day (in years when I’m not so invested anymore) and fix it, but for now it is readable and understandable and that’s the point right?

At the end of this story there is a long author’s note from me, as well as a note from Matt who helped, along with his boyfriend, me get through his last chapter which was so much harder than I ever could have dreamed.

Warning: This one is ridiculously long.  Seriously, I should have cut more but I couldn’t bring myself to.  I basically included everything else in their lives that I had figured out but hadn’t been able to fit in anywhere else…and went over some of the stuff I did use again.  And I guess a part of me just didn’t want this to be over…it’s been a year and a half since I started the 100 prompts project and this is how it concludes.  

Have a box of tissues ready – you’ll probably need it, I certainly did.

To describe their relationship in one word: magic. 

#100 – Writer’s Choice: Magic

Kibum stared out the window of Munhee’s car as his son drove him home. 

As he had aged his eyesight had faded, like it does with many, and as he reached his 70s he had finally conceded to his son’s pleadings and handed over his driver’s license.  Now into his middle 80s he had grown quite used to others chauffeuring him around once more.

"Hey Pops," his son said softly as he came to a rest at a red light.  "How are you doing?"

Kibum turned slowly to gaze at Munhee, taking in the man’s graying hair and the lines that dug ever deeper in his son’s face as time has made its presence known. 

No words came to him, and he just turned his head once more and faced out towards the windshield, feeling somewhat hallow inside. 

Today he had laid his Taemin to rest.  

He felt numb and cold.  It was like it wasn’t real, until today.  Today when Taemin’s ashes were placed in the Mausoleum that would one day house his own and not days before when Taemin had been asleep in that hospital room with a bout of pneumonia that wouldn’t go away.  When Kibum had laid his hand atop his husband’s, brushing the cold metal of a ring that fit a little loosely after all these years, and whispered a gentle "I love you baby," and saw a soft smile drift across the aged face. 

Then the heart monitor had slowed. 

And then it stopped.

And the nurses rushed in, trying to revive him.

But Kibum wasn’t scared.

And he wasn’t angry.

He knew that it was Taemin’s time to go. 

That the once-upon-a-time dancer couldn’t always escape from the hospital.  He swore he felt a light touch to his own hand, as though a finger tapped against his wedding ring, but then it was gone.

And they called time of death.

Kibum methodically worked his way through the forms that they laid out in front of him while the staff called their son back up from the cafeteria.  Everyone seemed to be waiting for him to shatter like glass.  But he felt somehow calm.  He didn’t know if his mind was just holding everything off and waiting until he didn’t have so much to do, or if there was something else at work. 

All he knew was that he calmly filled in the last line and signed his signature one last time before passing the stack of paperwork on to the awaiting hospital representative and slid the glasses off his nose, sliding them into his shirt pocket and slowly rising, using the chair handles to push himself to his feet.  Munhee’s hand landed on his shoulder, leading Kibum out of the hospital and into his own home. 

His home.

A place he would never share again with Taemin. 

Kibum let the city lights glide over his face as Munhee remained silent, driving the man home.

No.  Kibum thought.  Not home, just a house.  Taemin was his home.  Taemin had been his home.

A huffing breathe broke his thought process and Kibum looked over, seeing several tears running down Munhee’s face.

Kibum chided himself.  What kind of father was he?  His son had just lost a parent, and here Kibum was not saying anything to comfort or console him. 

The elderly man silently reached over with an unsteady hand, grabbing Munhee’s right hand off of the steering wheel and holding it calmly in his own.

"It’ll be alright son." Kibum whispered quietly.

Time had seemed to jet by then.  Jinae was called and quickly boarded a plane with her family and there were plans to make with what to do with his husband’s remains.  Kibum spent the days afterwards in such a rush and a daze that there was no time to think and contemplate the enormity of what had just happened to his life. 

He collapsed into bed at night and his mind would still refuse to focus on what had happened, instead it seemed to focus on the past.

****

He remembered a trembling little boy backstage at their first performance.

Taemin had spent hours the night before staring up into the underside of Kibum’s bunk, unable to turn off his mind or focus on anything other than their impending showcase.

Suddenly the frame shifted and Kibum’s feet swung out over the edge, searching around in the dark for the ladder. 

“Hyung…” Taemin had whispered, blanket pulled up to just under his chin and for some reason apprehensive about the older boy’s reaction. 

He scrunched his eyebrows in the dark, trying to focus in on the voice and realized Taemin was awake and staring at him. 

He smiled lightly and tugged on one of the dancer’s feet.  “Come with me.”

With a couple of cups of hot chocolate, and a few tears that were never spoken of again, the two found themselves finally relaxed enough to fall asleep.

That in mind, seeing the fear begin to creep in once more, Key had given the slight boy a hug, spur of the moment.  “Just remember last night.  We’ll be fine.”

And they nailed it. 

****

He remembered seeing that boy grow up, and the unsure grin that pulled tight across his face turning into an easy smile throughout the years.

Key had been glad that the camera wasn’t on him.  His eyebrows had shot so high up on his forehead that they must have disappeared entirely beneath his fringe. 

Taemin had just made a funny quip on a variety show?  A completely unscripted, spur of the moment, off the top of his head, joke that made the audience and fellow cast laugh honestly.

The dancer turned the moment that the PD called a break to change tapes and beamed back at Key and it was like it was contagious.  He could feel the corners of his mouth pulling back into a toothy grin and he reached forward and ruffled his hand through Taemin’s mushroom hair causing the younger boy to scrunch up his face and tug away, but the grin was still there in place.

“Good job Tae,” Key mumbled as the PD called for them to get ready to shoot once more.  And he was proud, Taemin was growing up. 

****

He remembered the first time his heart skipped a beat because of the younger man.

It hadn’t been any monumental moment.

Actually, he hadn’t even realized it at the time, only when looking back later.

He’d been sitting around their dorm, just watching TV and talking to his family on the phone.  He had just finished up a call with his grandma when Taemin came bouncing into the room, just coming back from vocal practice.

“Hyung!” The sixteen-year-old called out as he plopped down onto the couch next to Kibum, getting an extra bounce from the springs and bumping into the rapper’s side, pressing his warm leg hard against Key’s.

Key jumped a bit, startled for reasons unknown as Taemin’s breath ghosted across his face.

Key swallowed hard and that feeling hard away and forced himself into a smile.  “So Taemin…how was practice?”

****

He remembered the desperation he had felt to try and hide that emotion from his friend.

Taemin’s hands landed gently on his hyung’s shoulders.  Key felt like his skin burned at the touch and he jerked away, mentally wincing at the pained look that crossed Taemin’s face before the dancer turned away. 

“Never…” Taemin began, his voice hitching, “never mind hyung.” And Taemin bit his lip and backed out of their kitchen.

As Taemin disappeared beyond the corner, Kibum curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his midsection and sliding down the wall into a crouch.

It hurt so much.  It hurt so much to turn Taemin away.  It hurt so much to see that look on Taemin’s face. 

But Taemin was innocent.  So so innocent.  He wouldn’t be the one to ruin that.  He just had to keep away.  He didn’t have the strength to hold out against it with Taemin around.

He pulled himself to his feet and decided to head for the bathroom, to clear off the tears that he knew had escaped.

The door was closed when he reached the end of the hall. 

From within he could hear weeping.

Key bit his lip.  He was doing the right thing.  Right?

****

He remembered the pure joy that he had felt when they confessed their love.  The sheer elation of acting on his feelings and his utter surprise that Taemin seemed to feel the same.  The feeling of Taemin’s soft lips melding against his, of Taemin’s smooth hair sliding through his fingers when he buried his hands into the dancer’s hair, it was more than his mind could comprehend and for once in his life Kibum’s mind just shut down and he flowed through the moment, acting on feeling and instinct and not remotely anything like common sense.

It was wonderful.

****

And he remembered the utter terror that had followed as they tried to hide and cover everything up.  That whole period of time seemed to mash together in his mind.  So much change had happened around him, so damn quickly, that he had latched on to his one constant: Taemin.  Sometimes as an adult, looking back on that period, he often wondered what would have happened to their relationship if that hadn’t happened.  Would they have been able to continue with the façade without the pressure of such an extent being laid against them?  He didn’t know.  But he knew that their relationship had solidified during those months of terror.  Having made it through that, there was no turning back. 

****

He remembered the feeling of rock bottom.  Sitting in that hospital room day after day, holding a cold and clammy hand and praying to whoever would listen to please not let everything end before it even had a chance to begin. 

****

He remembered pushing Taemin through therapy, making sure that the dancer would be back on his game, because he knew that was the only way that Taemin would feel happy, and he would fight God himself to make Taemin happy.

“DAMMIT!”  Taemin screamed, falling to the mat beneath him. 

Taemin had claimed one of the dance practice rooms on the ground floor of the SM building. 

Kibum was at his side in a flash, checking over the panting teenager and making sure that he was alright. 

Taemin rolled onto his back and kicked out childishly at the wall next to him.  He had been using the ballet bars on the walls to help keep himself vertical as he walked around the room trying to rebuild his strength and stamina.  But even with day after day after day of this practice and effort it seemed like nothing was coming of it.

“Come on Taemin,” Kibum whispered, his mouth near the young man’s ear.  “You can do this, one more round.”

“No!  I can’t!” Taemin yelled, a pout firmly in place, with yet another feeble kick at the wall beside him, and his hands thumping uselessly against the wooden floor. 

Kibum pursed his lips and gritted his teeth for a moment.  Taemin was getting into another one of his moods.  Kibum understood being frustrated at the situation, and he had to admit that he would probably be worlds worse if it was him in Taemin’s shoes, but Taemin was stronger than him, Taemin would be able to do this.  If he could only just see it himself…

Kibum grabbed Taemin by the shoulders and hauled him up to a seated position.  He put his face in close to Taemin’s and could see the sheen of tears starting up in his boyfriend’s eyes. 

Kibum bore his eyes into Taemin’s and set his face in as stern a look as he could manage. 

“Taemin.  Listen to me.  You Can Do This!”  He laid his palm against Taemin’s face and brought his face so close that the tips of their noses were touching.  “You are strong.  You are brave.  You can do this.”

There was no special emphasis, just a statement of fact but he could see the words taking root somewhere in the recesses of Taemin’s eyes. 

“But Kibum…” Taemin whispered, closing his eyes, his voice sounding so close to defeated.

“Taemin, if you could see yourself you would be so amazed.  You are improving faster than anyone had thought.  You are so strong and you can do this.”  Kibum sounded like he was pleading with Taemin.

With a small jerk of his head, Kibum cleared his throat and stood up, tugging Taemin up to his feet.

“Now come on!”  He urged.  “One more round of the room and then we can go.  You can do it.”  He clasped Taemin’s right hand around the bar and took Taemin’s left within his own.  “I’m with you every step of the way, so come on.  Just one more.”

And Taemin bit his lip, and took another step.

****

He remembered re-signing their contract with SM.

Their original contracts with SM Entertainment had run out and it was time to re-sign and renegotiate.  Taemin and Kibum had one condition that they wanted added to their contracts – the option to move out on their own, into a place outside of the company’s control should they so choose.

They had no plans as yet to move, but they knew that there was no way that they could continue living with all of the guys forever. 

After months of negotiation they finally got SM to approve of the proviso, on the condition that should there performances fall at any point after their move that SM could elect to relocate them to a location of their choosing (like back into an SM run dorm). 

The couple agreed, seemed fair enough after all, though they doubted that SM would ever need to act on that clause.    

****

He remembered searching for apartments.

Newspapers were spread all over the table of their dorm and Minho grunted walking past, seeing the pair pouring over property listings in their miniscule free time. 

“How about this one?”  Taemin slid over a listing of a possible apartment and Kibum glanced it over.  It was in a good part of town and had the kind of space that they were looking for.  The rent was a bit high but they could put it on the list of places to look at. 

“Alright,” Kibum mumbled, writing down the listing and agent on a pad of paper and then sitting back to rub his tired eyes.

Part of him thought that SM was doing everything that it could to keep them from actually moving out.  He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why their schedules had been so jammed-packed lately.  They had finished promoting their latest single, but SM had them constantly on the move, from one variety show to the next and they were already in the studio working on another album when the previous wasn’t yet six weeks old. 

A pair of warm hands started kneading his shoulders and Kibum sighed, leaning back into the touch. 

“It’ll be fine Bummie…” Taemin whispered in his ear, laying a gentle kiss against Kibum’s temple.  “We’ll find a great place and we’ll finally be able to really start our lives as a couple for good.  We’ll have all the same responsibilities and worries that other couples have to deal with.  We’ll have to fix leaky pipes and deal with cranky landlords and organize everything.” And even though Taemin was listing off the worst parts of renting an apartment on your own, the sheer excitement in his voice brought a smile to Kibum’s face.

Taemin was right, things would be great. 

But for now, “Let’s call it a night.”   

****

He remembered Taemin standing strong and helping him when he went through the humiliation of being denounced as unworthy and incapable for his country’s defense because he was gay.

Kim Kibum hated this.  It was stupid and irrational and just plain not fair. 

It’s not that he wanted to serve in the military.  Very few people would volunteer for the job – just look at the U.S. armed forces.  The percentage of the country that is at all involved in the military is practically infinitesimal. 

So no, he did not want to be a member of the army of the Republic of Korea…but he couldn’t stand that they were putting him on display like a show horse gone to seed.  There were cameras there to capture his shame.

According to the letter of the law in this country, he had to report for duty.  Even though he knew, and the soldiers knew, and the whole freaking country knew that there was no way that he would be allowed to serve.

It was illegal to be gay in the military.  And Kibum’s relationship was well known, there was no way to hide it, not that he would want to.

“Kim Kibum.  You are declared unfit for duty.”

There was the disgustingly official sound of a metal stamp clomping home on his enrollment slip.  It was passed back to him with a sneering smile and Kibum made sure to keep his face clear after all he knew that it was coming.

And Taemin stood next to him.  Silent strength and endless compassion. 

Kibum took his slip and turned silently to walk away, not even gracing the peon soldier with a bow of farewell.  

Taemin ran his thumb gently against the skin of Kibum’s hand.

By the time they made it back to the car the older man was inexplicably smiling again. 

****

He remembered bursting with pride as Taemin walked across a stage in a black robe and received a diploma.

Kibum shifted, his going sore from sitting on hard bleachers through the long speeches from people who held no meaning for him.

He looked over at the crowds of people dressed in black graduation gowns, square-shaped hats placed proudly upon their head.

Taemin was down there somewhere, amongst the crowd of eager young minds who had worked their way through their degrees just like Taemin.

Part of Kibum couldn’t believe that Taemin actually did it.  It wasn’t that he thought that Taemin was incapable, he was the most capable person that Kibum knew.  The thing was, that no one in their world, none of the idols or celebrities in Korea, did this.  Taemin earned an honest degree – getting into his school on merit and not by the power of his name and influence.  The school took him in because of his ability, not because they thought that his name recognition was going to attract more students to their school.

Suddenly Kibum recognized Taemin’s gleeful face, searching the crowd as he stood in the line of students waiting to go up on stage.

Kibum sat up straight in his seat, the program curled up into a roll in his hands as Taemin continued to step closer.

Until, “Taemin Lee – Bachelor of Arts, Departmental Honors.” Taemin walked across the stage and reached out with his left hand for a diploma holder and shaking hands with the elderly President of the University with his right.

Kibum screamed and whooped, just as loudly as all of the proud parents had called out for their children.  Then Taemin’s eyes found his as he stepped down from the stage and changed the tassel from one side of his hat to the other.  

They shared a grin as Taemin held the embossed leather above his head in victory.  And Kibum couldn’t be prouder. 

****

He remembered days of staring at the ring that Taemin had given him as it sat on his finger.  Who could ever have predicted that would happen?

****

He remembered their baby girl.  He thought of little Jinae and all of the wonderful moments and trials that they went through trying to figure out how to raise a child.  And he remembered the constant look of wonderment and surprise that seemed to be fixed permanently to Taemin’s gentle face.

Kibum woke up suddenly from his sleep, confused as to why he was awake.  Jinae had just started sleeping through the night rather recently and the couple had taken full advantage of that fact by finally managing to sleep through the night themselves.  

Kibum reached out blindly into the dark to wrap one of his lanky arms around Taemin’s torso, but he was met with cool cotton instead.  

Kibum sat up and looked in sleepy confusion at the empty spot where Taemin usually lay.

Kibum rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rose from bed, slipping on a robe to combat the chill of the night air as he slipped his feet into the awaiting slippers at the end of the bed. 

He spotted the door to Jinae’s nursery open and a smile crossed his face.  He should have known…

He slowly slid open the door and was greeted with the sight of his fiancé, standing at the side of Jinae’s crib, his face a picture of contentment as he just watched their darling daughter sleep.

He entered and slipped his arms around Taemin’s waist from behind and laid his chin atop Tae’s shoulder.  

“She’ll still be here in the morning, let’s go to bed.”

Taemin smiled ruefully and turned his head, giving Kibum a quick peck.

“Sometimes it still seems like a dream…”

“Reality is sweeter.”

****

He remembered bringing Munhee into their home and how wonderful his husband had been with the little boy searching so desperately for a place to belong.

Kibum would admit to being a little hurt.  Their newly adopted son Munhee…well, frankly he didn’t seem to like Kibum very much.  

The boy had been with them for three months and he still refused to speak more than absolutely necessary around the man.

Taemin, on the other hand, was the one that he always sought out.  He wanted Taemin to read him stories and would follow Taemin around the apartment and always wanted to sit next to Taemin when watching movies or eating at the table. 

And to Kibum…it hurt…but he understood too. 

Just judging by the general dispositions, Taemin was more approachable, the friendliness just flowed from him in waves.    

But Munhee was getting better.  Sometimes Kibum would catch the boy, out of the corner of his eyes, watching and occasionally following what the older man did.  

It would happen, just slowly.  Kibum just had to wait and continue to show the boy all of the love that he felt in his heart.  

He could be patient. 

****

He remembered his depression.  That horrifying time in their lives when everything could have gone so drastically wrong and he couldn’t help but marvel at the strength that Taemin had shown to stay by him and help him through everything.

He marveled at Taemin’s strength.  To endure that kind of pain at the hands of someone that you love…Kibum couldn’t imagine.

And yet Taemin did it, and was able to come out of it at the end and still have the strength to help Kibum rebuild himself.  

Kibum would owe Taemin a great debt for the rest of his life.  

****

He remembered standing proud at the graduation ceremony, watching first Jinae, then years later Munhee, graduate from high school, knowing that their children had done their absolute best, even if they weren’t first in their class.  He could be proud of them, they had both secured great universities and had grown into decent people who would grow well into good adults who would raise their children wonderfully.

They had accomplished every parent’s dream and helped direct their children down happy and healthy paths in their lives.  They could be content.

****

He remembered retiring from SM, oh so young to retire, but it had just seemed right.  Taemin and he had discussed it at length and together had figured out what to do.

After leaving his design firm Kibum had eventually landed back at his first job: SM Entertainment.  He worked with trainees, trying to prepare them for the job that was awaiting them out in the media storm of idol stardom.

But at 51, while not really old, he was a bit beyond modern popular culture.  And his job was feeling increasing more and more like a job, something that he had to do, rather than something that he wanted to do because he enjoyed it.  

“Bummie, if you’re not happy then stop.  Just stop.”  Taemin laid his hands on Kibum’s as they rested on the top of the time-battered kitchen table.  

“But…”  Kibum began but couldn’t think of how to finish.

Part of him wanted to protest, wanted to say that there was no way that he could leave work.  But he knew that wasn’t true.  Taemin received a rather nice salary now sitting at the top tier of Asian correspondents for the international Associate Press, and add that on top of their accumulated savings and investments, Kibum really didn’t need to work.

“But what would I do?” 

Taemin smiled, “Whatever you want.  Just stay around the house, travel a bit, start working with one of those charities you’re always telling me we should donate to.  The point is now that you can do whatever you want to, whatever makes you happy.”

Kibum smiled up at Taemin and pulled up the writer’s hand and laid a gentle kiss to the man’s knuckles.

How did he get this lucky?      

****

He remembered that sense of loss when Jinae told him that she would never be moving back to Korea. 

All children must leave their parents eventually; he just had hoped that they wouldn’t go so far.  But she was happy and that was what mattered the most.

“Dad, I have a great job lined up here.  My bosses are really nice and the pay is amazing.  I can live comfortably and even manage to save a little.”

Kibum bit his lip and pressed the phone a little harder into his ear.  “I know sweetie.  I just don’t want to think about you being so far away forever.”  He sighed, “But I should have known.  Between your school and your boyfriend…”  He forced a smile into his voice for the benefit of his daughter.  “You be sure to send up pictures of your new apartment alright?  And get a dog or something, I don’t like the idea of you living on your own over there…and don’t think that means that you can move in with your boyfriend.”  He added sternly.

Jinae laughed, “I will dad. And I’ll keep space ready for you guys to visit whenever you want.”

Kibum laughed, his daughter knew him well.  “You do that!  We’ll visit as much as we can afford…and you can stand.”

Taemin slid the phone out of his husband’s grip just then and said his own goodbyes to their daughter before hanging up. 

At that point, to some silent agreement, the pair circled their arms around each other and shared the mingled sense of pain and pride that they felt at their daughter moving on with her life.  

****

He remembered sending their son off to serve in the military.  In the same enlistment center where he had been denied, he’d stood hand in hand with his husband and saw his son off with no condemnation or judgment thrown their way – and a part of Kibum that he hadn’t even known was hurt seemed to heal.

****

He remembered becoming a grandparent for the first time.

Normally he would be alarmed by a 3AM phone call, but he had been waiting on a singular phone call for the last three days, no matter the time of day.

Jinae was due to give birth to her first child and Kibum had ordered David to call them when the child was born, no matter the time of day. 

Kibum awoke with sudden clarity from his fitful sleep and grabbed the phone that was ringing on the table next to the bed. 

Taemin was sitting up next to him just as he gasped into the phone.  “So?  How’s Jinae?  How’s the baby?”

David’s voice was overflowing with pride, “A baby boy.  A beautiful healthy baby boy.”

Tears slipped out of Kibum’s eyes as his mind flashed to seeing Jinae for the first time in the hospital all those years ago.  He knew exactly was David was feeling right now.

“A baby boy,” he whispered to Taemin as he shifted the phone so it could rest between both of their ears so that they could both here their son in law. 

“He’s so beautiful…” David said, and they could picture the tall man, sitting next to Jinae’s bed, watching their daughter holding their grandchild peacefully in her arms.

“We understand,” Taemin said gently. 

“What did you name him?”  Kibum asked as his mind raced to figure out what the child might look like, mixing Korean and western features.

“Allen.” David said softly.  “Allen Taeki Green.”

Kibum met Taemin’s eyes.

“Taeki…” he whispered.

“Yeah, we decided to mix your names together in order to create his middle name.  That way he will always be connected to his grandfathers even though you live so far away.”   

“It’s wonderful.” Taemin said, his own tears finally falling as the enormity of the gesture and the moment finally seemed to seep through his consciousness.  “It’s amazing…” 

“Jinae is brilliant too.  She’s exhausted and already fell asleep or she would have wanted to tell you herself.”

Kibum chuckled.  “I’ll bet.  Bet you she makes you call us again when she wakes up and is feeling better.”

David laughed once more.  “You’re probably right.  Look, I’m gonna go.  More people to call and tell them the great news.”

“That’s alright, you do that!”  Taemin smiled into the phone.  “Take care of that little boy, and our daughter too.”

“I will sir.  And I’ll call you again when Jinae wakes up.”  

Kibum hung up the phone.

“We’re grandparents…”  Kibum whispered.

“Yup.”  Taemin said, his grin practically reaching his ears.  “To a healthy baby boy.”

“Guess we’re going to be going to Jinae’s this Christmas.  We’ve got a grandchild to meet.”  

Kibum launched himself across the bed and wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck, crying happy tears and Taemin joined right along with him.  And Kibum wondered if there could ever be a happier moment in anyone’s life.  

****

He remembered the sadness that began to seep into their lives as their friends, but really their brothers, began to pass away.  First Jinki, at 83, fall into a nap one afternoon and passed peacefully in front of a playing television.  Then Jonghyun, one year later, also at 83, the victim of heart failure in a hospital room.  Now Taemin at 84 due to pneumonia.  And let’s face it – at 86 Kibum and Minho were no spring chickens themselves, though Minho has always seemed healthier than the rest of them and would likely outlive the lot of them by several years.  

****

Even in the weeks following the service, a simple farewell with close friends and family, the memories continued to confront Kibum.  Countless random days, and birthdays, and anniversaries and holidays would race through his mind.

There had been requests for interviews after Taemin’s passing, after all Taemin had been one of the big names of the gay rights movement, but Kibum politely declined them all.  No cameras were allowed in for the service, though inevitably some captured images of them leaving the hall had made their way onto the internet and news programs.

A particularly poignant one stood out to Kibum though.  It was him and Minho.  The two members of SHINee who had always had the most trouble getting along with each other – now they were the only ones left.  The picture just showed the two talking, their black hair long since without color, their height not nearly as imposing as it once had been as they shrunk and slumped with age.  The long-gone rapper had simply just placed his hand on Kibum’s shoulder, offering that bit of silent comfort and companionship that he was known for. 

It made Kibum smile, even after all of these years Minho would still be there to comfort and calm him when Taemin was unavailable. 

But with Taemin gone, it seemed that Kibum’s strength was leaving too.  In the months that followed Kibum found himself growing rapidly weaker.

Munhee all but forced that man to move in with him and his family, leaving behind the home that he had shared with Taemin because it was no longer a safe idea for Kibum to be on his own. 

And Kibum…well, Kibum didn’t have the energy to fight it.  He was lethargic most of the time now.  He would spend his waking moments pouring over photographs and home movies and notes that the couple had written to each other over the years.  He read through Taemin’s novels and through the unfinished stories and plot points that littered the writer’s computer. 

And when his great-granddaughter would come and plop herself next to him she would ask “What are you doing?”

And he would reply, “Looking for your great-grandpa.”

“Where did he go?”

“Very far away.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Very much.”

“Why did he go?”

“Because he had to.”

“But why?  Why did he leave you?”

And at this point a tear would fluttered quickly down his face, following the curves and wrinkles that had formed over decades of life and laughter.  “He didn’t.  He just went first.  He’s waiting for me to follow.”

“So when will you go find him?”

Kibum had said, “When the time is right.”

They had variations on that same conversation countless times. 

But one day it was different.

Six months after Taemin’s passing, Kibum had been taken to the hospital with chest pains.  The doctor’s called it a “minor cardiac episode.”

Jinae jokingly told her father that it was a broken heart.

Kibum thought it was a message: It’s time.

He was surrounded by his family, in warmth and joy.  He had lived a good life and here was the proof all around him.  He had nothing to feel regretful for, and there was nothing left unfinished. 

He had been napping when it happened.  His daughter and son talking softly over his bed, watching idly as Kibum’s weak breath fogged up the plastic mask that had been placed over his mouth. 

The Kibum’s hand had twitched, curling in such a way that it looked almost like he was holding another hand.

“Dad?”  Munhee’s voice asked softly, drawing his sister’s attention back to their father in the bed.

A last whisper of "Tae..."into a plastic hospital mask as a man who had been too tired to open his eyes for the last few days twitched a few facial muscles into service in a gentle smile, was what they were given as response.

The heart monitor suddenly dropped its gentle beeping and the red line ran flat.

As the hospital workers rushed about, Jinae pulled Munhee out to the hallway.  Somehow she knew, she knew that their father would not be back.

“Appa found Papa.”  She whispered as the tears slipped out.  She couldn’t tell you if they were happy or sad tears, but they were some mix of both that she couldn’t even understand herself and wouldn’t have thought possible until this moment exact moment. 

The siblings stood there, their arms around each other as a nurse came out and told them on their father’s passing.

Hours later, as the pair was leaving the hospital, Munhee looked at his watched and smiled.  “Six months.”  He whispered to himself as he got into the waiting taxi after his sister.

“What?”  She gave him a strange look.

“It’s been sixth months, down to the hour, since Papa died.  They were almost exactly sixth months apart.”

Jinae smiled gently and they road off.

****

Choi Minho sighed looking down at the paper in his hand.  Kibum had given him something, shortly before he went into the hospital.  Cryptically saying that he should read it after his friend was gone.

He was the last it seemed.  Though he wasn’t surprised, Kibum really couldn’t live without Taemin.  He would have been shocked if the man had lasted much longer.

In Kibum’s narrow hand-writing he found:

Hey Frog :P

I know that you don’t believe in fortune telling or angels or anything like that but you know I do so just hear me out.

I know that I won’t be around much longer.  Ever since his death, it’s still felt like a part of him was here, watching me.  Sometimes I would feel a touch on my shoulder when no one was around, or hear a whisper in a corner.  I know that you would say that I was just imagining things, but even if I was, it made me feel better so let me believe what I want!

Minho smirked at the letter.  It was so Kibum to try to argue with someone in a letter that he will never know the response too.

You know how they say that before you die your life passes before you eyes?  I always thought that it was supposed to be all in a flash.  An instantaneous thing, but I guess it can take longer.  For months now, every time I closed my eyes, I swear that I would see my life, our life, together and it took me a while to think that this was it.  My life coming before my eyes.  Happy moments and sad moments all together. But I feel like I’ve seen them all now.

I just have this feeling that it’s all coming to an end soon…and I want you to tell my family something for me.  You would probably manage to say it better than I could.

Make sure they know, I have no regrets and that they have been the best children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren that anyone could ask for.  I lived my life the way I wanted to, with Taemin at my side. 

And I’ve realized that I’m not meant to not be at his.

I’m only half a person now, and something like that can’t survive very long, or rather all it can do is survive, not live.  And I don’t have the strength to just survive and not live out each day.  

Everything with Taemin, it was like magic.  It was wondrous and exciting and I woke up every morning excited to see his face.

…Okay..not every morning but most mornings so just leave it!

Minho chuckled.  He could almost hear his old friend’s voice as he read the words written on the page. 

You’re the last one of us now Minho.  Old age is wiping away the past, but you are strong.  You’ve got a good few years left in you yet, so use them well.  I was in a rush to see my Tae, but don’t you worry.  We’ll all be waiting for you when it’s finally your time.  And I can’t wait to give you a big “Told you so!” when you realize that there is something for us after we pass. 

Minho, tell my family not to be sad for me and not to mourn me for too long.  I’m going where I need to be and I will be happy there.  I’ll be with Tae and things will be magic again.  You’ll see when it’s your turn.

The fox,

김기붐

Minho continued to watch the paper as though it was going to do some magic of its own, his mind processing what it had just read.  Clearly it had been written in the days before Kibum went into the hospital.  The man had become a little more fragile in those last weeks and they rambling letter was an example of that. 

“I hope you’re right Kibum.”  Minho placed the letter down on his desk and shuffled off to his own room to go to sleep.  “The one time in my life I want you to be right and me to be wrong.  I hope your magic is real.”

Minho clicked on the ceiling fan and was rewarded with a soft thunk sound.  The sudden air had blown the curtains about and knocked something off of his dresser. 

It was a CD case.  He bent down to pick it up off of the floor and realized that it was one of theirs.  A SHINee CD – the last one in fact, the last time that all five of them together produced any music.  He looked at the back cover, at the track listings and smiled.

“Maybe you’re right Kibum.”

Because right there in the casing, the list included a song called “Magic,” and the listing had been laid over a picture of the five of them, but for some reason Kibum and Taemin’s arms had been extended during the shot.  It almost looked like they were pointing right at the word “Magic.”

How had he never noticed that before?

Minho put the case back on the dresser and slid himself into bed.

‘Alright Kibum.  So magic is real.  Prove it.’

And the last member of SHINee fell off into sleep. 

Final author’s note:  Wow...just...wow...  I don’t think that there are words to explain just how much this story has meant to me.  I never intended for it to make the impact that it did.  When I first posted The Showdown on a whim after typing that first chapter on a random night when I should have been making lesson plans, I never would have thought that I was going to finally hash out the emotions that I had just shoved away all those years ago.  I would never have thought that my writing would grow as it has.  I would never have thought that I would touch so many hearts.

Your comments and private messages have often reduced me to tears.  Some of you have shared with me experiences so much worse than what Matt went through.  Some of you have had to cope with loosing a friend, because they weren’t lucky enough to survive.  Some have laid to rest friends who couldn’t take the pressure and ended their torment on their own terms.  Some of you told me of using my words to explain to others what you had before been unable to voice.

This story may have touched you, but you have all touched me in return.  This experience will be one of those defining times of my life.  A time that I took a chance and went out on that ledge and you all reached out your hands – grabbing my shoulder and being ready to support or help depending on what was required. 

It almost feels like high school graduation.  I have made so many friends with people all over the world because of this story and a part of me is incredibly sad to know that this thing that held us all together is now over. 

I don’t think I know exactly what to do with myself now writing wise...there are no little ideas bouncing around my head about what to do next.

Any ideas?

Note from Matt: "Sammery" finished writing this story with me and my boyfriend over Skype at a ridiculously late hour in Korea.  She wanted the moral support I guess.  If she had been stateside she probably would have been over at our apartment, curled up on our couch with her laptop and a pizza, reading out lines to us to gauge our impression of it while we periodically passed over tissues.  She wasn’t kidding – she cried...a lot. 

To be honest, after I wrote that one story for 100 prompts...I really haven’t thought too much about this story.  I knew that she wanted to finish it and actually push through and complete the full 100 prompts...but part of me did think that she would run out of steam somewhere along the way.

I remember as she hit the halfway mark, we were talking and she started to lay out her ideas for this last chapter.  She wanted to end everything in a final way.  Literally the end of the story was the end of the whole experience.  I thought that it was beautiful and corny and predictable...but also perfect.  So incredibly, incredibly perfect that after I read it, I literally could not speak. 

I passed it over to my boyfriend - whom I have only ever seen cry once, when I sat him down when we were getting serious and told him about what had happened to me - knowing that it might come back to affect my life down the road, and he  sat there with silent tears streaming down his face and reached out to grab my hand and we just sat there for a few minutes.  It does almost feel like the loss of a tangible person...because to Sammery, these characters have been so real and so engrained in her life for well over a year...

You know when someone close to a friend passes and you feel that pain.  Not because you knew them, but because someone you care for is hurting.  That is what we are feeling for her right now.  I think that this story has helped her keep her sanity through the transition to living in Korea, which is not an easy one for her, try as she did.  It helped her keep her feet under her and focus on something that wasn’t completely foreign and different to her.  To see this end – it’s just...sad.   

THANKS TO EVERYONE FOR EVERYTHING!

- Sammery