i. sundrops;

yibo still sometimes wonders why he chose that day to wander to the little garden behind the red brick wall on the east-most side of the forest. when he strays through the wicker gates that afternoon, he is surprised to find a lanky teenage boy on the ground and flipping through a book with fervor, his tousled black hair standing on end and getting messier with frustration.

peeking over his shoulder, yibo guesses it's a flower book judging that it's now propped open to a page with sundrops, korean characters filling up the blank spaces not taken up by pictures.

the boy jumps when yibo walks around and crouches beside him. yibo doesn't understand the jumbled words tumbling out of the younger's mouth, though it's clearly distressed, so he goes to examine the plants. he sighs. the poor things have rotted over the winter, must've had too much water during the cold season.

seeing him shake his head and taking it as a sign of no hope, the boy's narrow shoulders sag even more and closes the book with a small snap. he looks like he's going to cry.

but yibo taps his knee and gestures for him to lean closer. confused, the boy does.

taking a deep, deep, deep breath, yibo slowly lets out a lungful of air mixed with his power onto the sundrops. small flecks glitter momentarily. then, before the boy's bewildered eyes, emerald seeps from the corners to the center of the leaves and deepening gold petals unfurl and shed their brown skins like a fast forward film.

't-thank you!' the accented words surprise yibo who didn't realize the boy even knew mandarin. those brown depths meet yibo's light green and they seem to shining too, doubled by the bright beam at curled lips.

it’s contagious and so yibo smiles despite himself, nodding.

then, with his expression becoming curious, the boy says something that yibo still doesn't understand.

realizing this, so the boy points at himself and says, 'sungjoo' before pointing at yibo with an exaggerated shrug of shoulders.

yibo bites his lip and inwardly curses (like so many times) his inability to speak. mistaking his silence for confusion, sungjoo repeats the gesture again.

but before yibo can figure out a way to convey his name, a woman's voice calls sungjoo's name from across the gates. looking apologetic, the boy runs and easy jumps the fence to join a plump lady, taking the suitcase from her hands.

but when he turns back to say goodbye, the blonde stranger is gone.

✽✾✿❁❃❋❀

when sungjoo's sitting on the train back to seoul a few hours later, he will always remember the blonde stranger that brought his flowers back to life. because he had awakened something inside sungjoo too.

(at his favorite water spring, yibo sits in the shade on the high rock and rubs his left wrist. he's both shocked and disappointed when the black words had appeared on the skin minutes before. because he knows without the fact that it's in korean that it's something sungjoo will say.

will you be waiting for me?)

✽✾✿❁❃❋❀

it's a few more years before they meet again.

yibo had avoided the cottage by the red brick wall once he had realized the boy sungjoo wasn't coming back the rest of that season. and when he was reborn again the next year, he's always disappointed when there is no sungjoo playing among the flowers. and for the couple years after their first meeting.

but today he guesses he feels nostalgic so he wanders back, unable to deny the small daisies of hope in his chest.

to his astonishment, he's greeted by an eighteen year old sungjoo who jumps up from his spot at the sundrops at the sight of him, grinning so wide that his eyes are crescents.

'so you are real,' sungjoo says, running up to an arm length away and taking in the sight of small pink flowers and grass blades coming to life beneath yibo's feet. his chinese is still accented but considerably less than when they had first met and it sends tingles down yibo's spine.

looking a little shy, sungjoo says, 'I spent a good amount of time trying to convince my aunt and anyone that you're real, I was starting to doubt too.'

yibo takes in the furrowed eyebrows and question that's written all over his face.

are you going to stay?

so he nods.

tilting his head, sungjoo steps forward to stare up almost worryingly into his eyes and yibo can't help but notice how much more attractive sungjoo has become. he's not fully grown into his looks yet but the high cheekbones are definitely promising.

'you can't speak?' it's more of a statement than a question.

but, before yibo can start to feel bad, sungjoo's smiling brightly again. 'it's okay, I'll probably talk enough for the both of us.'

yibo smiles, really smiles this time and it makes sungjoo stare.

'oh!' dashing to a backpack on a table, sungjoo fumbles in its contents before drawing out a thick handbook.

introduction to mandarin: korean to chinese dictionary

'I got this so I can learn if you just write the characters on my hand,' sungjoo says, looking proud. 'so, let's start over.' he clears his throat. 'hello, my name is kim sungjoo. nice to meet you, what's your name?'

a low chuckle escapes yibo's lips as he takes sungjoo's slightly smaller hand without hesitation and writes with a long finger against the roadmaps of palm

‘hello, my name is yibo. nice to meet you too, sungjoo’

✽✾✿❁❃❋❀

they spend every free moment together. well, every free moment sungjoo has when he's not attending the summer school downtown.

sungjoo tells him that his parents are famous musicians and are on tour so he's spending time with his aunt this summer to take chinese classes. yibo has a nagging feeling that it's not the whole truth, but doesn't pursue it.

they mostly communicate through sungjoo's limited chinese 'yes or no' questions, words against palms, and dictionary consultation.

but they don't even talk much, as yibo takes him on long walks through his forest. he can't explain his role as spring-bringer, but sungjoo fills in the blanks as best as he can, his eyes full of wonder and awe as yibo breathes life back into the dormant land. at times, he points out unique flowers, simplifies directions on how to take care of certain plants that aren't taught in sungjoo's book, and shows him secret areas to see spy on rare animals.

and every time sungjoo smiles at new discoveries, yibo thinks that it's more beautiful than any of the flowers that had bloomed that season.

✽✾✿❁❃❋❀

inevitably soulmates comes up in the few conversations they have. yibo had seen the stolen glances sungjoo's thrown at his wrist while they walk and he knows it's a habit everyone has, but it doesn't stop the color rushing to his cheeks and tugging the sleeves of his shirt further down.

the waning moon can be seen reaching its zenith through the cracks between trees, though it filters in and out behind slate-gray clouds.

sungjoo's sitting beside yibo on the rocks, their feet dipping in the cool waters. but while yibo leans back on his arms, expanse of his neck and hair turning even paler, sungjoo bows his head. if yibo doesn't know better, he would've looked down to see what he is staring so intently at.

'do you think I'm broken, yibo?'

the other starts at these words.

riiip! the tearing of velcro conflicts with the calm of the atmosphere and shoots tension in the space. yibo holds back the wince.

sungjoo tosses the wristband that had been on his left wrist behind him. in the dim light, the unmarked skin seems to glow in a way that sungjoo's eyes don't at the moment.

'I must be, it's why I'm here really,' he mutters. he's speaking so low that yibo's not sure if he's even talking to him. or if he is just eavesdropping.

'my dad wants me to go through a surgery. it's new and really expensive. but it's been getting popular, since a lot of celebrities have been endorsing it. and the main headquarters aren’t far from my home in korea.’ he pauses a moment to run a thumb over the plains of his complexion, drawing attention to the veins that pulse there.

yibo’s eyebrows are furrowed and he tries to shake the itch beneath his own skin.

‘they can reroute my lifelines and assign another soulmate to me,' sungjoo continues. he lets out a humorless laugh at this and yibo's heart drops inside his chest. 'I guess they'd be as broken as me...'

it starts to rain without warning when sungjoo's talking and, with the droplets clinging to the highs and lows of sungjoo's face, it looks like he's going to break into a million pieces.

so yibo stands up, takes his hand, and leads him down another path.

neither of them speak until they've walked into a clearing that yibo's only brought sungjoo to once. tugging him down, yibo peels back a small bush to reveal small white flowers, wholly unimpressive. and when sungjoo opens his mouth to say so or ask, yibo just quirks the corner of his lips.

‘wait.’

the low rumble of thunder follows them and soon it's raining here too, droplets splattering about.

and before sungjoo's eyes, the white flowers seem to melt and parts bleeding out white until there is only veins and it's hauntingly beautiful, softly skeletal and lace-like.

sungjoo stares and stares before he's gazing up into yibo's eyes, green depths all earnest and intense to sungjoo’s blank brown ones.

he wants sungjoo to know that he's not broken, since it's the best thing he can tell him without saying that they are meant to be. he wants to sungjoo to know what every flower has its beauty and they bloom whether they are loved or not. and he wants sungjoo to know that, in time, he will know.

when he meets sungjoo's eyes in the dark again and sees the light of determination and hope, yibo hands back the wristband he had tossed with an encouraging smile.

and he knows that sungjoo does.

✽✾✿❁❃❋❀

a few more years pass and, when sung