*~*

My eyes go searching for that smile, that heartfelt smile, his perpetual pale skin, and his usual I-don’t-care attitude that always fails. Leeteuk notices this, “Kibum was going to come, but his boss needed him,” he answers.

I shrug, a bit disappointed that he wasn’t going to be here. But it was better, less pain during farewells.

“Do you know how to get back?” Leeteuk’s eyes dart back and forth, the lost look was enough to let the waves of memories crash down harder and seep past the dam I so carefully built. But then again, the dam wasn’t strong enough to begin with.

“I’m not sure, but I’ll manage.” I always do.

I patted my best friend on the back but the waves didn’t pull back, and instead they kept coming. Eventually, they piled on top of each other, adding more pressure. The waves of guilt. “If it gets worst, then I’ll call you, I promise.”

With a look of uncertainty, he agreed to let me go alone. My dam may not be strong, but it’s strong enough to withstand against these waves—no, more like ripples. “I’ll miss you, remember to visit and call, okay?” The sadness suddenly hit me unnoticeably, and I resist the tears my eyes.

“If I had a choice, I wouldn’t go,” I told him and for once, it was true. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have decided to transfer universities a year ago thus forcing me to live in the dorms, away from him, the closest person to me on this earth. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have to come back, to tell him that I was getting transfer, permanently or momentarily, I don’t know. It’s an endless pain and longing but it won’t last long, it never does.

“The bus is here.”

“Don’t cry,” this time, he pats me on the back, and I smile through the tears.

“I can’t help it, it’s been so long, and I just—“ He sighs and pulls me in for an embrace. I return it, crying along the way. Leeteuk had that funny way of provoking tears from people, whether it was expected or not, you’ll find yourself crying during farewells.

“People always say you’re cold-hearted but you’re more sensitive than me,” he chuckles, but I can hear something caught in his throat, I can hear the tears in his voice.

“Shut up,” I laugh. I miss these old days.

*~*

I watch as his figure slowly faded into the painted horizon. I focus on him trying to smile, trying to fight the tears. We both don’t notice the beauty of the sunset, but the beauty of this moment, this moment seems so much more real. And it’s fleeting away before our eyes. Good-bye.

The bus stopped for the next stop, and I got off. This definitely wasn’t my stop, but I couldn’t just leave, I can’t leave with just this. I wanted more, I needed more.

 I stare at the buildings, the lights, and the people. The semblance was so unfamiliar. I was an outlier, an outlier in the city I grew up in, the city I once called my hometown. Now I’m withering into a ball of triviality with no purpose, just a wandering lost soul.

So the lost soul roam the heart of city, knocking into people, but walk away without giving much of a glance, more less an apology. Ignoring everything but a pique voice in my head. The perpetual noises were like murmurs compared to the voice. It was my center of gravitation, the thing that kept me together. It was the voice that saved me some time ago, but some time ago seemed so long that I didn’t remember nor wanted to remember.

“Sorry” I hear myself whisper and wonder when did I command myself to speak. But I wasn’t being apologetic to myself, but to my best friends who’d be livid at the thought of me itinerating alone, and no one else. Well, maybe one more person, but I’m sure—no, certain that the said person couldn’t care less.

Suddenly, the voice stopped, the little whispering and the pull were gone. I felt myself fall apart, myself slowly slipping away, away from everything. There wasn’t much to begin with anyway.

I looked up and saw another bus stop. Without thinking—if I ever was, I got on the bus. You don’t know where you’re going, what are you doing? I hear my conscience trying to stop me, but where else was I supposed to go? In this alienated city, or me that was an alien, where could I possibly go?

“I’m sorry.”

I stopped walking. I didn’t notice that the line stopped moving nor did I notice the person in front of me. I only heard that.

“It’s o—“ I started to speak, despite it being entirely my fault, but I didn’t care. I looked up to add more sincere to my response. My mouth became dry and I found my mind searching for coherent words, but there weren’t any.

In the heart of the city, where the clouds guarded the skyscrapers, the people below, the innumerable people, in this busy night, I met him again. Kyuhyun.

He formed an awkward smile, but he made an effort and that was enough. “It’s been a long time, Sungmin,” he said. The velvet in his voice cleans my mind, and for a second, I stopped thinking, just savoring. Savoring his voice that would become more than just a voice at the back of my mind, but would become the voice in my dreams, the voice singing me a lullaby. But those things were the things of a past, but the past had a funny way of showing up unexpectedly.

“Yeah,” I force a smile, and it probably mirrors his awkward one.

“How have you been?” I gesture to the bus, signaling that he needed to get on. He laughed, rather awkwardly but it didn’t worsen anything.

“I’ve been good.”

I sat down and he took the seat beside me. I don’t know whether to think that this was his volition or for the lack of empty seats in the bus. But I couldn’t stop the bubbles from forming, soaring inside of me, sticking to my insides, and eventually bursting. The happiness came as fast as it left.

“You?” He smiles. The voice was dead now, or my conscience finally took control and buried the voice underneath the deep piles of detrimental things the voice have deluded me.

He ran his fingers through his hair, an action that swayed my heart in a funny way. It still does. But now, the sway with prettified with an iridescent glint. It banter me. A band of silver caressed his ring finger. He flinches, too comatose to think, to think of the consequences.

“These days…” he pauses, looking into space, smiling genuinely, “I’ve been really happy.” And it kills me, I don’t know what it’s killing, but it hurts. A lot.

“I can see that,” I comment, but in a sly playful voice that rarely surface. “How long are you staying on for?”

“An hour.”

“Oh.”

We sustain this conversation, staying within the boundaries of generalism. Something that didn’t surprise me. Through our words, the shimmer in our eyes, we made a promise to stay as we are. Stuck between a stranger and a friend, this was enough, more than enough.

We knew each other; we had a past, not a present. The past gave us knowledge, knowledge about each other. If we wished, we could have touched upon sensitive topics that only we knew of, but the past is the past, not the present.

“How’s the theater group?” He decided to head down the path of memories, to unleash the bind memories, gracing over it ever so gently.  Something I’d prefer to avoid, but the inevitable is the inevitable.

At the mentions of it, I out of habit, make hand motions. He laughs, “You know, I still don’t know sign language.”

“After all this time?” I ask.

He shrugs, “It’s hard. How are the kids there?”

“They’re good,” I contemplate whether or not to tell him more, but ultimately, I give in, “They’re thinking of opening another location.”  

“That’s good,” that’s when he piece two and two together. “Are you going as well?” I notice the melancholy bits in his voice, but I tried to not let it break down the dam, I can’t let him.

I nod. “This theater group; letting the kids who can’t hear as well or is deaf learn the beauty of theater is something I treasure, it unknowingly became a part of me” the memories, the smiles, the laughter sustenance the dam. The voice sheen the path, this particular path that I never saw before now illuminated ever so brightly.

“You seem happy.”

“I am happy,” I told the truth.

It seems like I was being rather honest with myself today. I like that.

“Tomorrow’s the last day,” I abruptly said, and he nodded. He didn’t need any clarification; he knew what I was talking about. I hated that.

The silence lingered, but ironically, the silence was louder than the people, the natural noises of the night, louder than our heartbeats.

A slight jingle was heard. It was mine. “Hello.” I answered and press the device to my ear.

“How was today’s trip?” His voice resonated. I smile genuinely; Kyuhyun noticed this, and out of courtesy distracted himself by looking ahead, pretending to be distracted.

“It was fun, worth the long ride.”

I could hear him smiling at my own glee. “Do you need a ride?”

“I’m already on the bus,” I reply, “How was the theater group?”

“Please don’t make me do it again,” I frown, but he quickly adds, “They’re too hyper.”

“Was the communication too hard?” I ask, worried.

“After the hours of you teaching me? Of course not,” he punctuated with a laugh.

“I’m going to keep using sign language then,” I tease and laughed at his reaction.

I was finally brought back to reality when the bus suddenly halted; throwing me forward, but luckily, or thankfully, Kyuhyun held me, saving me from the fall. I wished Kyuhyun could have saved me before, but he wasn’t the one. Never was. 

I could already hear his voice from the phone, strain with concern. “Hello? Are you there?”

“I’m going to go, the bus is going crazy.”

“If you need me, call.”

I smile, “I know.” 

Still smiling at my phone, I held on a little longer. “You’re smiling, a lot more.”

I turned back to face him, noticing how truly beautiful he looks. Ethereal. He always will be.

“My life right now is close, not entirely, but very close to perfect.” I found myself looking into space, smiling like he was a moment ago.

“I’m happy that you have him,” he lets out a sigh of relief. But the question hammering inside of my mind is: relief for what?

“You found her as well,” I gestured to the ring and his hand goes to it, having his own moment of bliss.

I stop myself, realizing what we’ve just done, what I just let him do. I’ve let him break down the dam. It wasn’t in a blatant manner but subtly, waiting for me to weaken. I can’t let this continue.

“You know—“

“I’m going to go now.” The voice suddenly came back, vying with my conscience. It was stronger than ever.

“I’m not going to stop you this time,” he comment and this time, he surprises me. I feel myself stop, everything freezing. I was confused.

Before, when the road seemed so dark, when every step I took seem to lead me to a chasm, and eventually, inexorably, I was going to fall. Now, there were too many paths, but it was still a chasm, but a well-lit one. That’s what made it even scarier.

“You know, I was sad. Before,” I leaned back in seat, closing my eyes. I was ready, finally. “Not because of what happened, but what could have happened.” Us.

“We were happy.”

He was right. We were happy, us two, together. But as time goes by, we notice that even if we were happy, even if we were laughing, even if we were smiling; it wasn’t meant to last. It was one of those feelings you wake up with, feelings that you knew were right.

The bus stops. I stood up, but didn’t look back. “Be happy.” I knew Kyuhyun was nodding, contemplating whether to respond, but I knew he wasn’t. He may have changed, matured even but it wasn’t enough.

“Thank you,” I whisper and got off.

We didn’t say good bye nor did we say ask for any means of communication, we didn’t have to say it but feel it. It was that etching bond that was omnipotent, so rare that people would have guessed—no, was certain that the bond intertwining these people would last forever, it would last forever but we would be separated, tortured by this bond.

Even now, his every action, his every look, I understood them, all of them. But I hated that. The hostility would only mean admitting that we still had that.

I watch as the bus drove away, he didn’t look back at me, I expected that. But today, today was truly something nostalgic —erratic even. The iridescent glimmer shone, not banter, but shone at me again. With his limited knowledge of sign language, Kyuhyun had showed me the only sign he knew, the only one he needed. I smiled. I knew that I shouldn’t. I should be frowning, should be, but isn’t. 

“Sign language is too hard,” Kyuhyun complained.

I massage his arm, “It isn’t that hard,” I laughed.

He smiled and held on to my hand, “I know this one though.” He showed me the sign language with his free hand.

I felt my face grow perilously warm. “You dork.” I punch his shoulder and he grabbed both of my arms, and his warmth instantly spread to mine, them flickering, dancing together.

“I love you,” he whispered in my ear, and showed me the same sign.

I showed him the sign, “I love you too.”

My fingers curled to form the same sign he showed me, but he didn’t get to see it this time. It’s better this way.

I dial some numbers. “Hello?”

“Can I get a ride? I finally know where I’m going,” I pause, “And you need to get me there.”

He laugh, “Did something happen? You seem…happy.”

“Nothing happened; I just want to be there as soon as possible.”

I close my eyes, and tried to feel myself, my own feelings. It was quiet all of a sudden, the voice was a dim hum and my conscience bolstered it. The voice and my conscience finally coalesce.

The wandering soul has finally found the place, where it would shine, not the brightest but where it’s the happiest. 

Le fin. 

A/N: So, this is the end. The end of Sungmin's POV, and maybe the end of this fanfiction. I'll consider writing a Kyuhyun POV ending, but it depends on the reaction this fanfic has.

To be honest, this was based off my real life experience with an ex-friend that I was taking the bus home with. It was awkward but at the same time heartwarming because we knew each other so well, yet there was a reason as to why we weren't friends. Okay, enough of my life story XD 

@reilajoongie: Thanks for your comment ^^ I'm glad you're looking forward to it :D 

@chorionstar: This chapter doesn't reveal what happened but I hope you get the picture :) I hope this didn't disappoint you.