This chapter is much darker than the previous one. Originally it was supposed to be one chapter, but it decided to grow longer then that and thus chapters 4 and 5. God, I don't think I am anywhere near end with this piece of fiction. *frown*

Chapter V

Yoochun slammed on the breaks causing a curse from Yunho and a gasp from LeeSoo. His eyes were wide, the heart beating fast. In his head there was just one thought, I must be seeing things.

Dark hair, slender built, milk-white skin…

NO!

Before he could realize what he was doing, he was out of the car ignoring Yunho’s shout and angry sounds of the horns. He ran as fast as he could, at times practically shoving the unfortunately people out of his way.

A white t-shirt, blue jeans?

Some part of his brain was telling him that he must have gone mad and that he couldn’t have really seen him. But his stupid heart was clenching at the thought, prompting him to keep running.

Crossing the street he almost got hit by a car, earning more than a couple of curses in his direction. The shock of the suddenness with which the breaks had screeched somehow woke him from his trance-like state. He stood there as he heard footsteps behind him. His arm was grabbed and he was almost violently dragged to the sidewalk. There he was faced with very much angry Yunho.

“Are you nuts?! What the hell are you doing? Trying to kill yourself?!” He shook his friend by the shoulders. But when he looked into Yoochun’s face he saw such despair there that he felt some of his anger evaporate. Sighing Yunho released his grip on the other’s arms and said, “Let’s go.”

They walked in silence for some time. The way back to where he had left his car seemed long to Yoochun. He walked like a puppet, following Yunho’s lead, not really thinking about anything. Yunho went from time to time stealing glances at his friend to make sure that he hadn’t disappeared again.

The car was still in the same place where he had abandoned it. Though it had been carefully parked near sidewalk by Yunho to avoid any accidents; hazard flashers on. LeeSoo was out of the car the second she saw them approach. She looked worriedly at Yoochun and then at her boyfriend.

“Is everything okay?” She asked gently. Taking her hand Yunho squeezed it reassuringly. Then he turned to Yoochun waiting for some kind of explanation of his behavior.

Yoochun sat down on the sidewalk, mindless of his expensive pants. Burrowing face in his hands he let out a groan. “What the hell is going on with me,” he muttered under his breath. Closing his eyes he tried to organize his thoughts in some kind of order.

He thought about what he had seen. No, what he had wanted to see. The pain in his chest was blossoming with renewed force. There was nothing he could do to prevent despair sip inside his soul once again.

He was dead, Yoochun thought bitterly. He had seen him, white and unmoving; he had been to the funeral, had paid his last respects, had listened to that priest go on and go on about the Heaven and immortality of a human soul.

There was a hand on his shoulder and when he raised his head Yoochun saw Yunho crouched beside him. Silently he held out to him his pack of cigarettes. Gratefully it was accepted.

“You thought you saw him, didn’t you?” Yunho asked as he watched his friend light a cigarette, following his suit. Yoochun flinched, his hand shaking as he flicked his lighter shut. His breath was shaky as he exhaled the smoke.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Yoochun,” Yunho said it with barely concealed reproach and frustration. He heard LeeSoo shift closer to him, touching his shoulder gently. That made Yunho he stand up to curl a comforting hand around her waist.

“You know that it is not possible,” he tried again.

Yoochun shook his head. “I know that, thank you so much,” his voice was holding just a touch of anger. “But I know what I saw, although I know that it is not possible. Either I am going crazy, which is not totally impossible, or…”

He didn’t finish his thought though. Rising to his feet Yoochun threw a butt away. Copying his movement Yunho looked at his friend suddenly uncertain, the keys dangling from his fingers.

“I can drive, if you like,” he offered. But Yoochun shook his head. “I am fine,” he said.

But all he could think of, when he started the engine and navigated his Jaguar into the fast lane, was the pair of dark eyes filled with pain.

Don’t worry, love, he thought, soon it all will be over.

//

Going back home alone after a rather confused explanation to Junsu Changmin hoped to see Kim at home. Although he knew that his friend didn’t have a key and had only vague idea about the actual address.

Sighing, the boy entered his apartment. It was dark and a bit chilly, for he had left a window in the kitchen open. Changmin felt unusually exhausted and sad. Without turning on the lights he moved to stand before the couch. Just this morning Kim had been sleeping on it and now he had no idea where his friend was.

He settled down on the couch, covering himself with a blanket and curling into a ball under it. Closing his eyes he wished to see Kim again. He remembered the look of pain and shock in his face right before he had fled. He wished he could help him.

He wished for this pain in his chest to go away.

//

A peaceful morning. Sun was shining warmly, a garden was filled with a sweet aroma of blooming flowers.

“What are you doing, grandma?” A pair of brown eyes glittering with curiosity.

“Trimming a rosebush, as you can see, sweetheart,” a kind voice was accompanied with a regular snip-snip of the scissors.

“Don’t!” A sudden cry as one of the smaller roses was cut mercilessly. “You are hurting it!” The tears spilled down as small hands clutched the cut flower. Burying the crying face into the folds of her skirt, he gasped out, “They are hurting so much!”

A gentle hand was stroking his hair, trying to soothe him.

“My poor boy, you feel too much,” the words were tinted with sadness. “I pray to God you will never have to suffer because of your gift.”

//

The dream – or were those memories? – was slowing fading. But the feeling of the hand stroking his hair remained. Slowly opening his eyes Changmin saw Kim sitting on the floor near the couch.

“I am sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t want to cause you pain.”

Leaning down he brushed his mouth over Changmin’s lips in a gentle kiss.

//

Changmin woke up feeling disoriented. Sitting up slowly he pushed a hand through his hair, feeling the wetness on his face. He brushed the tears away with his sleeve and took a deep breath.

It was just a dream, he thought, yet again.

The pain in his chest seemed to have lessened to a dull throb. For all his twenty-one Changmin felt as if he bore a weight of the whole world on his shoulders. He felt a buzz of voices in his head, fragments of memories that weren’t exactly his and flashes of faces he found only remotely familiar crowded in his head like the annoying flies.

Groggily he stood up and slowly moved to the door. Opening it he was not at all surprised to see Kim sitting on the steps leading to the next floor. He looked sad and he had been crying too.

“I got lost again,” he whispered.

Changmin looked at him for some time and then said, his voice still raspy from sleep, “Are you a ghost?”

“No,” was his answer.

And only then Changmin moved to let him in.

//

The curtains were drown, leaving little light, but he needed none. His stereo was blasting with some slow rock song, the low beat vibrating through his body.

He brought a glass to his lips, swallowing without tasting, letting the alcohol burn down through him. He wanted to stop feeling. He wanted to stop thinking. And most important – to stop remembering.

He was sitting in his luxurious leather armchair, one hand holding a glass, another resting on a box. From time to time he would open it and look at its contents. Fingering it, until the metal under the tips of his fingers was warm and almost felt like a living being.

Eight point seven inches of stainless steel.

Downing more whiskey Yoochun tried to remember when he had become such a coward.

to be continued


14/11/06