Just a little while ago, a commotion on the streets inevitably drew my attention. It hadn't been anything spectacular nor special, like an accident or maybe even a raid, but something very plain. Anyone else might have torn their eyes away after a few seconds, unable to connect any feelings and memories to the 'child's play'. Not so me. I had found myself stopping and staring. Two boys maybe ten years of age and a toddler had turned the rough, asphalted street into a racetrack. Not one for regular cars, though, but for strange looking objects with wheels and spikes. Unlike those one could buy in any play store, these were unique. They were modified carefully, and certainly not built the best way, but well enough for their parts to stick together without having the whole thing collapse. I kind of envied them. So young and yet they managed to built those small machines, machines that worked, that moved. Nothing I had ever accomplished. But that was okay. I sat down on the sidewalk, pulling my legs close, and couldn't hide the smile plastered onto my face the whole time I was watching their race. The way the boys took care of their creations was adorable. They called their vehicles names, cheered them on, and picked them up with caution whenever the toddler was chasing one of the machines. Adults aren't like that. Adults don't understand why the children set their hearts on these lifeless, cold objects. I did. Still do. I gave my heart to a machine, too. And I never regretted it or felt ashamed for it; no matter how ridiculous it seems.

I had my first crush on a machine.

Don't judge me, now. Honestly, considering the way I grew up, it shouldn't have surprised anyone. My mother had left us when I was five. My dad was there for me ever since. A broad shouldered man with tan skin and a bulky build, both earned by his hard work. Work I assisted him with. He was an auto mechanic, and so I practically grew up surrounded by machines. Though it hadn't been a car I gave my heart to. It was enough that my dad's heart belonged to them. As interesting as I found his work, I have always been a curious person. And that was the beginning of it all.                       

I wandered down the street after helping my father with a difficult repair, still wearing working clothes stained with oil and dust, my face mustn't have looked better. He told me to get some spare parts from the scrapyard near the edges of the town, and as said town was rather a village than anything, it didn't take too long to arrive. The main street was the single asphalted one, leading into one direction only- it was impossible to get lost. I'd walked down this path often enough. I could have done so blindly if I were eager to land straight on my nose. Which I obviously wasn't.

It was a terribly hot day, and I wiped my forehead clean of sweat. On days like this, work should've been forbidden. And so, I took another route to reach my destination, one that involved more shadow and less sunburn. Using the wire-netting fence that enclosed the scrapyard as guidance, I set foot before foot, feeling drained. But I knew dad needed the parts. If not today, then tomorrow, and if I returned with empty hands, I was sure to get a nice lecture. A huff escaped my lips, and I fastened my pace, willing to get this over and done with- when the fence suddenly trembled for no apparent reason. Or so I thought. Knowing there had to be a source somehow, I slowly turned my head, just to notice that I had been lost in thoughts deep enough to not discover the beautiful male on the other side of the fence, hands clinging onto the metallic wires, light eyes fixed on me. His lips were tightly shut, corners of his mouth tilting downwards rather than curling into a smile. Same as my own, his hair was blond, if not a nuance lighter than mine. It covered his forehead and brows, reaching down to his eyes. My heart skipped a beat.

“Gosh don't surprise me like that!” I cried, taking a step backwards, away from him, while holding onto my chest. He didn't answer. No, not even a sound left his throat. And as fast as the shock had come, it went. Since the blond wasn't moving, I approached him. I didn't think I'd ever seen him before. Unlikely, since the village wasn't big. But not impossible. Feeling uncomfortable in my practical clothes all of a sudden, I tried to dust them off a little, patting my thighs.

“Are you new around? Did Al hire you?” Al was the owner of the scrapyard. A stubborn, old guy who wouldn't let anyone help him with his though job. A bearded, rough man who was soft at the core. Or so I believed. Still, I didn't get any reaction. I wasn't someone to be offended by that though, I only shrugged.

“Quiet one, huh?” I knew I shouldn't waste any time, but when my glance eventually wandered downwards after I tore it away from his mesmerizing eyes, my resolution shattered. To tiny little pieces. The male wasn't wearing a shirt. That in itself was nothing to surprise me though, I had seen plenty of bare-chested males in my life, and better built ones, too. It was something else that caught my eye. Again. My mouth formed a silent 'o', and then I told him:

“Wait a second, I'll come around to see you.”

As usual, old Al greeted me when I arrived, immediately asking me for what I needed. I told him precisely, after all I knew what I was doing, and we quarreled over the price for a little while until he grumpily retreated to gather what I had requested. That left me enough time to wander around alone. Following the wire-netting fence, it should have been easy to find the strange man again- if he was a man at all. I did not ask Al about him. For I was almost 100% sure that he wouldn't know about the blond roaming his scrapyard. Hell, I doubted anyone knew.

As predicted, it wasn't hard to find him. He hadn't moved. Somehow it made me wonder if he could move at all. Turned out he could. As soon as he heard me approach, his head turned. The movement in itself seemed strange- kind of abrupt, not as fluent as it should've been, but then again - what was I expecting? If my suspicions proved true, his existence alone was a miracle.

A gust of cool wind ruffled his and my hair, I stopped in front of him. Ever so slowly (and clumsily) he pulled his hands away from the wires of the fence. All I could do on my part was shamelessly stare - I doubted it would bother him. We stood opposite to each other for a while, my eyes slightly widened, his narrowed. Neither of us moved. Deciding that I wouldn't be able to win this stare-down, I raised my hand to confirm my guess and let it hover near the left side of the blonde's neck, scared to touch it. He didn't stir. Seeing it up close seemed to be enough. There was a long gash reaching from his jaw all the way down to almost graze his collarbone. It looked nasty on first glance. The skin around it was ripped open, like an ugly wound, several silvery wires stitched it back together sloppily. And underneath that, I got a good look at his- machinery. That was the only word I could call it, since 'insides' sounded wrong, sounded human, when he definitely wasn't.  Of that I was sure. I recognized a machine when I saw one. Though maybe 'robot' would be a better fit.

I discovered some other gashes similar to the first one near his stomach and lower arm. Whoever had built him didn't take care of him anymore, I concluded. A shame. Models like his were a rare sight and certainly didn't come from a village such as this. The male robot must've been brought here by accident, beneath huge piles of junk and garbage, and the very thought made me feel sick to the core. Such a fine piece of machinery should be cared for. Shouldn't be neglected like this. Even if it had lost its purpose. Eyeing the gash near his throat again,  I noted:
"Can't speak, can you?" It made sense. There was a decent possibility that his vocal cords had been damaged, or worse,  removed.  If the latter was the case, fixing him would be eternally harder. For the first time, I got a response from the blond.  A curt nod of his head.
"Ah, well..." I fumbled around my pocket for pen and paper; unfortunately only finding a bill to write on,  but it'd do. However, longer conversations were, for now, out of the question. I handed him both things, arching a brow.
"You should be able to write?" The robot didn't show any sign of understanding. He crouched down and started to write. Or rather, tried to.  His writing was messy, edgy, and almost unreadable, but I could manage to decipher it. His motor activity didn't seem full-fledged yet.

Kim Jaejoong.

That was what he'd written. It didn't explain anything.

“Is that your name?” A nod. Well, at least I had a name to call him now other than 'robot'. Still, I needed more information about this fascinating machine.

“How did you get here? And where are you from?” He shrugged. I wondered whether he'd gotten that from me. I heard his kind learned fast. So fast it could be considered scary.

“You don't know?” There was no way to hide the disbelief accompanying my voice. I eyed him closely, to catch any sign betraying his true feelings, giving away a lie- only to inwardly hit myself. Trying to read a robot's expression was pointless. Jaejoong kept a straight face. I'd have to trust his words, then.

“That shouldn't be possible. That stuff is written into your core, isn't it? Right from the beginning,” I wondered aloud, so he could think along. All it did was earn me another shrug of his. And then his lips parted and it looked like- he sighed? I cracked a smile.

“Oh well, don't bother. It's okay.” And with that being said, I didn't know what else to ask him. So all I did was peek at him occasionally. He really did look deceivingly human.

Al's shouts were what brought me back to reality. Amidst the piles of junk and broken cars, Al wouldn't find me if I didn't want him to. But I knew that I shouldn't keep him waiting for too long, since he was, same as my dad, a very strict man. So I told Jaejoong hurriedly:
“Listen, I need to go, but I promise you one thing. I'll fix you somehow. So wait for me and don't let anyone see you.” The blond gave me a look that seemed to mean something along the lines of 'What do you think I've been doing up until now, huh' and I was content with that.

I didn't know what had gotten into me. I didn't know even when I was on my way back already, not when I presented my father the parts, not when I lay awake that night. All I did know was that I was going to help- fix – him. Back then I believed it was because of what he was. Because he was a result of the newest technology.

Now I know that it wasn't that.

No, it must have been his bright silver eyes that got a grip around my heart the very first time our gazes met.

The next opportunity to meet him came on the next day, and I was thrilled. Dad had grown suspicious after a few hours of working with me, mostly because I paid more attention than I usually would. I mentioned already that I assisted my father often in his workshop. Did I include that I was good with that, but pretty useless on my own? I haven't ever gotten a car going. Rather than that, no matter how great my interest in technical objects, they seemed to detest me. Maybe because I used to insult them whenever I could as soon as something didn't go my way. Not like they could answer- unlike a certain other machine.

“You're spacing out. Where's all the concentration you summoned a second ago?” My forehead met with steel, it was then that I recalled the position I was in. That was, right underneath a car, without much space. Groaning, I shifted, and rolled out of the cramped place using my mechanic's creeper. First thing I got to see was the face of my dad, wearing a huge frown.

“That,” he pointed at my forehead, “is going to leave a huge bruise.” Not funny.

“Figures. It was a huge impact after all,” I shot back through gritted teeth, rubbing my throbbing forehead. He just laughed heartily and patted my shoulders.

“Just leave it then. You can go and have a nice afternoon.” I rolled my eyes. No matter how rough of a man my father was, he was the sweetest. He didn't voice it, but I knew he was worried. The thing was, I couldn't just do that. I'd made a plan yesterday.

“Hmm, I guess I'll go see if I can help Al somehow. He seemed exhausted yesterday.” As expected, my dad's eyebrows immediately raised.

“What? More work- and obligatory?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” I asked, playfully poking him in the side.

“No, no. Not at all.” The lie was obvious, but I disregarded it. Instead, I gave him a quick hug.

“I'll be out!” And with that, I flew out of the workshop.

This time, I practically ran all the way to the scrapyard. To my luck, Al was nowhere to be seen- and though I shouldn't even think of doing it, I sneaked my way inside. No confrontation was great. If he had refused my help, which would have been the most realistic outcome, I would have had to leave. This way was perfect.

Wandering across the huge place with no set goal in mind, I feared that I'd never find Jaejoong. It was him who found me. And no, I did not let out a totally unnecessary shriek when his cool hand found my shoulder. I whirled around and our eyes locked.

“Hi,” I greeted, tugging an annoying strand of hair behind my ear. He gave me a nod as a reply. Like I did the day before, I examined Jaejoong from head to toe. I didn't know what I had been expecting, perhaps that he'd miraculously turned human over night or that I had been imagining the robot thing in the first place. None of that was the case. He looked the same as yesterday. Blond, pale, with gashes on his skin.

“I want to take a look at your neck if that's okay with you. So we can look for parts that will help me repair it. And once you're able to speak, we'll see about the other...damage.” Almost had a slip of my tongue there, calling them 'injuries'. He was not injured. Just- broken. As if signalizing me to go ahead, Jaejoong cocked his head to the side, revealing his neck to me. The gash stretched a little, like human skin would, and I couldn't help but marvel at that discovery. I inched closer to him, placing one hand near his collar bone while the other traced the edges of the slit. They were rough, unlike the rest of the skin-like material, which did a great job imitating the real thing. They were also black, as if someone had burned them, and that was a solid guess actually- somehow, one would have to tear the material after all to gain access to his insides. I moved even closer to get a look inside, yet didn't spot anything but thick wires. Some of them were pulsating and emitting a strange, almost unremarkable, dull light. Then there was one that had been cut. Cut in a clean, precise way. Not ripped. So someone really must've done this to him, though I didn't get why. However, it'd make it harder to reconnect. I backed away from the male, having finished my examination, and rested a hand on my hip, frowning.

“There doesn't seem to be severe damage, the gash in itself looks bad, but the inside is alright. There's one wire I need to connect. I think it's the one linking your core with the vocal cords, which is why you can't speak,” I explained to him, “There's a small problem though. The wire has been cut in a way that makes it impossible to simply reconnect them. I will have to find another one that's similar and replace it. Or at least the visible part of it.” Jaejoong nodded, but kept his gaze fixed on me, in a way it made me feel edgy. So I turned away.

“Let's see. We'll have to search the area for anything suitable. And then I will need some tools we won't find here, which is why I won't be able to do it right now.” I felt bad for that. Though missing his voice didn't seem to affect him, I wanted to know what it sounded like. Wanted to hear what he felt. Wait, no. He didn't feel.

Following my lead, he helped me search the scrapyard, but after what felt like hours, we still didn't succeed. I raised my hand in defeat, panting heavily.

“That's it, I'm so done.” The heat was starting to get to me, and I was human, so my stamina wasn't the best. I must've looked terrible. Covered by dust from head to toe, but hey, at least there was no oil this time. Jaejoong checked another place, then made his way to my side. At least he seemed to understand. Gosh how unfair this was. Here I was, at the end of my powers, and he wasn't even exhausted. Sure, he was covered in dust just like me, but his breathing hadn't faltered and his movements hadn't slowed down. It shouldn't surprise me, that was what he'd been built for. Though it would've been a shame to use a robot as well sculptured as him for such dirty work. What had been his purpose, then?  A servant? A – lover? My cheeks flushed red at that thought and I quickly shook my head. Rather than wondering about that, I should find a way to leave unnoticed. Maybe he had an idea on how. I was about to ask, my lips already slightly parted, when he reached out and brushed my forehead with his fingertips, concentrated look on his face. I could tell by the way his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Unable to utter even a word, I let him proceed. When he pulled away, the blonde tilted his head. It was then that I understood what he meant.

“Ah-that?” I rubbed my forehead nervously, the feeling of his cold touch still lingering on my skin. “I got it today when I helped my dad. I wasn't paying attention and then I hit my head. Hard.” I laughed nervously. “But it's okay. It was my fault.”  The blond only regarded me out of deep, thoughtful eyes.

“Don't move.”

It was early in the morning, and I had managed to sneak in through a hole in the fence- the same one that had made my quiet escape possible two days ago. I had been unable to visit Jaejoong before now, but that was okay, because when I saw him again, I felt like his expression had become a little brighter. He had been happy about something, and I realized what it was when he presented it to me- a piece of wire, the right type for me to use, and at that point my grin had been wide enough to suffice for the both of us. Luckily I had brought some needed tools already, which was why I was working on him right now. I told him to sit so I had it easier and could reach the wire better, and asked him to relax. When I was obviously the more excited out of us two. He was the calmness in person, I was the fidgety mechanic. Perhaps I was, strangely, afraid of hurting him. Though I should know that nothing I did to him could truly hurt him. Why would one built a robot capable of feeling pain? All he needed to do was be useful or look pretty, depending on his use. Still, I couldn't let go of the trail of thought that had invaded my mind. No pain, no feelings. What about love? I twitched, a weak jolt of electricity running through my fingers, I hadn't been paying attention. I could practically feel how Jaejoong's eyes slid to me again; worried, or maybe just curious. I grinned.

"I'm alright. Should've paid more attention. You /are/ a machine after all." Vaguely, I remembered a time when something similar had happened, just that the jolt I had received had been way stronger back then. This was nothing. I squinted my eyes as I put the wire in place, I would have to cut it a little to make it fit perfectly. Then, I connected the loose ends as neatly as possible. It shouldn't break immediately after all. Immersed in my work, I failed to be amazed at how still the male sat, not even moving a muscle, not even blinking. I was so completely focused on my task that only an unfamiliar voice managed to pull me out of that trance-like state.

"It should be alright," was what it said.

"Well, I can't seem to cover the gash with anything- it doesn't look as neat as I wanted it to.." I huffed, slightly disappointed at myself for not thinking about that. I didn't have any material even close to the one that imitated human skin so well.

"I don't care about how it looks. It's enough that I can speak again." My eyes widened, and only then I realized that it'd been /him/ speaking the whole time. I had fixed his vocal cords. I had given him his voice back. I raised my gaze to meet his eyes that were shining brighter than I had ever seen them. It made my heart skip a beat. That was the moment in which he decided to say "Thank you." And kill all my confidence with it. Now that Jaejoong was speaking, he seemed even more real. I was good with dealing with machines and robots, but with a human male- it was a whole different story. I had to try hard to picture him as what he was, not what I wanted him to be.

"It's nothing," I reassured him, quickly retreating. I hadn't even noticed how close we still were. Not that he seemed to mind. However, he seemed to disagree with my words.

"It is. Nobody would care to fix a thrown out robot where I come from." I didn't know which part of that statement should interest me more- the question why he been thrown out as trash, or the question of where he came from- both of which I had asked already, some time ago. So I blurted them out, again. Sadly, all he did was give me a look I couldn't quite figure out. Though he could speak now, it didn't seem like he would talk a lot.

After that, I met Jaejoong various times. I came to learn that he did like to chat, about trivial things such as where this place was and how I spent my time (topics I considered boring; while he obviously loved listening to my stories). But never once did he mention his past; and I had given up on asking. I was content just being with the one that made my heart flutter. Although that time was terribly short.

I don't want to dwell in more memories than that. Those that followed were certainly the most beautiful and precious ones I made with the machine I loved. But that also makes them the most painful ones now, when he's gone, and I can only think back.

The boys that had been playing with their weird cars had packed their things and were running down the street now, probably returning home. I watched them until I couldn't see them anymore.

[END]

...and yes, a stupid end. But the point was that she fixes him xD And I don't wanna focus on the one-sided romance because it gets too long then. But hey- I finished something. Haha~