Chapter Two: More Than You Can Hear

Yifan unlocked the door to his apartment, while calling out, “Yeol, I’m back.” He received a muffled “hey” in response, and followed the voice to the kitchen, where Chanyeol was tending to the stove, back facing the door.

He wrapped his arms around the brunet, and received a cheeky nudge in the ribs. Resting his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder, Yifan murmured, “You should really turn and look at who entered the room next time, what if it wasn't me?”

Chanyeol laughed dismissively, “What’s up with the paranoia? Got into trouble with some bad people?” he teased.

Yifan hummed in response, choosing not to reply anything. It wouldn’t do for Chanyeol to be alerted, but he wanted him to be safe nonetheless. They stayed in companionable silence for a moment, before Chanyeol asked, “By the way, who’s Kris?”

Eyes widening in alarm, Yifan removed his arms. He observed Chanyeol, watching him for any irregular movements, but there were none. The brunet continued to make dinner calmly, without showing any concern or perturbation. Either he was really good at hiding his nervousness, or it really didn’t concern himself.

“Where did you hear that from?” Yifan asked cautiously, carefully leaning against the kitchen sink. Chanyeol turned to him, eyebrows raised, “Am I supposed to hear it from someone? I was cleaning your room the other day, and found this folder lying under your bed. I didn’t open it but the recipient was supposed to be Kris. I know that you’re not Kris, so who did you nick it from?”

Yifan sighed inwardly. Even if Chanyeol did open it, the contents weren’t of importance, so he was safe. Besides, if Chanyeol could still about it, it meant that he didn’t really think much about it. He shook his head, “Nah, just some file I’m keeping for a friend.”

Chanyeol nodded but then glared at him, “Go and shower! You’re just in the way here, shoo!” Holding his hands up in surrender, Yifan let Chanyeol chase him out of the kitchen, an amused laugh leaving his lips.

But as he set down his briefcase, his mood went downhill. He had gotten an update from Sehun recently, stating how he had managed to locate four out of five agents that were on the original Operation. One was missing, however, and that worried him. He had been keeping Chanyeol on the down low, taking the phrase “out of sight, out of mind” very seriously. It wasn’t like he could keep his occupation from the Korean for much longer either. Chanyeol may not know, but Yifan knew that he had been having more and more frequent headaches.

Suddenly moody, he took a brisk shower and made his way to dinner. He ate in silence, refusing to engage Chanyeol in conversation. It wasn’t long before the latter picked up on his emotions.

Placing down his chopsticks, Chanyeol demanded, “Okay, fess up. What got you like this?”

Yifan shook his head, and gave a short apology, but Chanyeol was persistent. Finally, Yifan cracked.

“What if everything was a lie? All this,” he gestured around the room, “a lie?” That effectively shut Chanyeol up.

“I haven’t been the most honest with you, I know that. But what if one day, you needed to hurt me; would you do it? Do you think you can do it?”

As Yifan looked up to see Chanyeol staring at him with those hurt, confused brown eyes, he realized how much of a bastard he was. It hadn't been right for him to spring those words on Chanyeol like that.

Dropping his face in his hands, he murmured softly, "I'm sorry. Just...just ignore whatever I said. It had been a stressful day, and I'm not making any sense. I'm going out to take a breather, don't stay up."

With that, he got up from his seat in one fluid motion, and started for the door. Grabbing his coat, he left his apartment, slowly closing the door behind him.

Maybe he should hit the pub tonight.

. . .

Chanyeol sat stiffly in his seat.

He knew he had it a long time coming, even though Yifan had insisted otherwise. He knew that perhaps he was a liability despite Yifan’s denials; he had seen Yifan being stressed when Chanyeol wanted to be out to get a breather. He also knew Yifan had not attended many gatherings just to stay at home with him, the voice messages left on the residential phone had informed him of that.

He also knew that he was a mystery, something that did not fit in quite well with the rest of the puzzle. A Korean who suddenly appeared in China without any traces left behind was probably a major security risk, and the only reason why he has managed to evade the authorities up to this point was probably because of Yifan.

Getting up, he stacked up the dirty dishes and carried them to the kitchen sink. Chanyeol’s hands worked on auto-pilot as his thoughts drifted off. He nodded to himself after a while, coming up with a viable plan.

When Yifan came back, Chanyeol would tell him he’ll be leaving. He would silence any objection coming from the blond and stand by his decision. It would be the best course of action, for both him and Yifan.

He just didn’t expect it to hurt so badly.

While Chanyeol continued to think of what he would need to bring with him, he didn’t notice the silhouette of the person looming behind him.

“Pathcode.” A single word was all it took for his world to explode into pain.

Chanyeol sunk to the floor clutching his head and whimpering, while memories and informations assaulted his mind. He didn’t notice the shattering of the porcelain bowl next to his feet as he finally realized why he was here.

The only reason he was here.

He groaned in pain as the part of his mind that was originally blocked to him was unlocked, and when his eyes finally opened, his pupils were dilated and frantic. Chanyeol got up unsteadily, as answers to his numerous questions were finally provided.

Yifan. What was he going to do about Yifan? He couldn’t possibly tell him about this- his blood ran cold when he finally linked the two together.

Yifan. Kris.

It seemed that perhaps he wasn’t the only one harbouring secrets.

Leaving a hasty note on the dining table, Chanyeol took his coat- the one that he first wore when he woke up in China- and left his phone behind. At least now he understood why the coat was so heavy, as he reached into one of the inner pockets. It was best that he wasn’t here when Yifan returned home.

Chanyeol couldn’t possibly hurt him. Not now, at least.

. . .

Yifan returned home not long after, with the smell of alcohol reeking from him. He didn’t drink, not really. After Chanyeol moved in, he rarely drank, just in case he ended up too drunk and blurted out things he shouldn’t have. He took out the keys to unlock the door, and his heart skipped a beat. The door was unlocked.

He burst in, neglecting the dining hall and rushed to Chanyeol’s room, where he noticed Chanyeol’s mobile phone lay quietly on the table. He had told Chanyeol to never, ever leave the house without his phone.

Entering the kitchen, he took in the broken shards of porcelain on the floor, and how some dishes had been left dirty and in the sink. There wasn’t any sign of struggle, however. When he walked past the dining hall again, however, Yifan finally saw the note lying innocently on the table.

Yifan Kris:

By the time you read this, I should be far, far away from you. I realized a few things today, you know.

I got back my memories, for one. It should have been a happy occasion, but what I learnt scared me much more than it should.

I’m part of this operation, Kris. And I was selected to kill you. You read that right. Kill. You were supposed to meet me; that was part of the plan. Maybe not that night in the park, but eventually. They wiped my memories so that I could get close to you without any pretenses, and when the time was ripe? Kill you, in cold blood.

It makes me wonder how much you know, considering what you asked me just moments ago. And I wonder how much you’re hiding from me, Kris.

The last thing I learnt was how I can’t do it. Even though I have been trained for this all my life, I can’t do it. Maybe I can do it in the future, but not now. So don’t come and look for me. I’d like my last memory of you to be of us together, even if it had been an argument. The next time I see you, I may not hesitate anymore.

So please, don’t run after me, Yifan.

Yours,

Yeol

Crushing the note in his fist, Yifan slammed it against the table. He knew the day would come eventually, and wondered if he had told Chanyeol earlier, whether things would have been different. Still, it was too late.

Throwing his coat on the couch, Yifan ran out of his apartment and towards the park where he first met Chanyeol, hoping that like him, the latter would choose to go to somewhere familiar as well.  He covered every corner of the park, sharp eyes on the lookout for the dark brown hair that Chanyeol sported. All the while, one question stayed on his mind.

Why do you even care so much?

"Kris," Yifan heard from behind him. It was the same baritone that he had been used to hearing. The same baritone that had made the laughs, sobs, chuckles that made his life worthwhile, that made his life beautiful, and always brought a grin to his otherwise grumpy-cat face.

But all it did now was to bring traces of a bitter smile.

Even before the barrel of the gun met the back of his head, the answer came to him as clear as day. Yifan made a move to turn around, but a click that indicated the removal of the safety holster halted him. "Don't turn around. Please. No matter what you do. Don't turn around, or I'll- I'll-"

Breathing in deeply, Yifan hoped that his instincts were going to be right, at least this time. He turned around, quickly grabbing the arm that was clutching the gun and twisted it up and away from anybody, not like there was anyone near. They were in a far corner of the park, where nearly nobody frequented.

Chanyeol paid no heed to the pain that the sudden twist caused him, eyes locked onto those of the blond opposite him. His face, usually adorned with a cheeky grin, was pale and devoid of emotion, save for a wavering bottom lip. Yifan's alert eyes immediately dropped to the once-red lips.

"You're trembling," Yifan quietly observed. The brunet stilled his lip and denied quickly, "N-no, I'm not."

Yifan looked back into the dark brown eyes that he has come to find home in.

Why are you doing this?

It's my duty.

It’s still your choice.

It’s not that simple.

Are you sure you want to do this?

Yes, no, I don't know-

Do you think you can do it?

"Once, you asked me why I care so much. This is my answer."

Yifan gently brought down the arm he was grasping onto tightly, repositioning the gun such that the barrel was aimed directly at his heart.

Chanyeol's eyes widened. He was always that expressive, and wore his heart on his sleeve. It was easy to read his emotions and thoughts, honestly, almost like an open book. Tears spilled over from eyes that now appeared to be twin mirrors, and Yifan saw himself in them. One of his hands gently, not callously, rested on the side of Chanyeol's face and rubbed the tears away, and the Korean leaned into it instinctively, new tears already welling up in his eyes. He shook his head and mumbled something underneath his breath, something traitorous, something treacherous.

Yifan tries to memorize every detail of his face with just a tinge of desperation. The brown eyes that would shine with happiness and optimism regardless of the day or situation. The huge ears that he used to make fun of but eventually came to love. The plush lips that he'll probably never be able to touch or feel again. And the smile that lit up his day. The feeling of the skin below his hand. He tries to memorize them all.

Yifan swallowed the bitter smile that threatened to surface with difficulty, determined to make his thoughts known, before it was too late.

Before he was gone.

"Let me tell you whether you can do it."

. . .

"It's so unfair." I don't want to do it, I don't want to hurt you.

...

"It's okay." I need you to survive, and if this is the only way, I'm happy. You can do it.

...

"I'm sorry." I really am, there should be another path-

...

"Saranghae." I love you.

. . .

It's amazing how much can be heard in three syllables.

a/n; thank you so much for reading til the end <3

regarding the ending, you are the person who decides it! it can be happy or sad, let your imagination run wiiiild

leave a comment if you have any feedback or questions, i’ll try to reply! and just asking, should i start a chaptered story about this entire op pathcode thing, featuring the whole of exo? (or are you currently shaking your head quite violently as my writing is already bad as it is)

/hides back under blankets after finishing this note/