[FIC] The End (1/2)

[beastattackmod]

Title: The End
Pairing: Junseung
Word Count: 11,989
Summary: Junhyung’s outline is blurring. The caravan comes for him, and he knows he must go with it. But Hyunseung won’t let him go alone.
“How did you figure it out?”
They’re sitting on bricks, shoes a few feet off the ground. The pasture ahead is silent. So is the dirt road behind them, and the town just beyond that. The moon makes sure of it. Sleeping sheep are dark mounds far off in the grass.

Hyunseung turns his head. Junhyung doesn’t mirror the motion.

“You’re shorter.”

And now Junhyung does look at him, eyebrows pulled tightly together. “No I’m not.”

Hyunseung gives a one-breath laugh. “Maybe just by a centimeter.”

Junhyung’s lips are pursed. He contemplates Hyunseung for a long moment. “That’s bullshit,” he says, and looks away. “You actually believe those stories?”

Hyunseung shakes his head. He’s smiling but his mouth feels sore. A forced motion. “No, not really.”

It’s harder to see the blemishes on Junhyung’s cheeks in this grey light. His hair is still the awkward-neatness of blunt ends and a bit too much forehead showing, and the buzz on the back of his neck - he visited the barber two weeks ago.

“You’re a little blurry, though.”

Junhyung glances over. “Really?”

“Just around the edges.”

Junhyung looks at his hands. Backs first, then palms, then he curls them into loose fists. “I don’t see it.”

“You probably see things differently, now.” Hyunseung takes one of Junhyung’s hands, places it in his lap. He runs his thumb over Junhyung’s fingers, traces down the outside of Junhyung’s pinky, to his wrist. “It’s not exactly blurry. More like hazy. Like someone’s started erasing your outline.”

Junhyung swallows audibly.

“I’m scared.”

Hyunseung meets Junhyung’s eyes, and sees the fear there. He encloses Junhyung’s hand in both of his.

“How much longer are you gonna stick around?”

Junhyung shrugs. His mouth pitches downward in a frown. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s supposed to happen now. None of this is like what happens in stories. Or real life.”

“Well, if you can stick around longer -”

A horse whinnies somewhere close by, and Junhyung sits bolt upright. He stares down the rightward stretch of the dirt road, his hand tense in Hyunseung’s.

“It’s just a horse. What’s the big -”

Junhyung shushes him, then jumps off the ledge and pulls Hyunseung down behind it.

“What are you doing?” Hyunseung hisses, shoulder banging against the bricks, Junhyung’s hand a vice around his wrist.

Junhyung shushes him again, then shakes his head, eyes wide and urgent.

Hyunseung hears the clop of hooves, and the more muffled sound of what he thinks to be a caravan of people on foot. He gives Junhyung a questioning look. Why are they outside? he mouthes.

Junhyung tugs him lower and closer. Hyunseung’s knees meet the ground; his face is inches from Junhyung’s. Junhyung brings a finger to his lips, conveying the need for absolute silence with his eyes, and Hyunseung feels the first pricks of alarm.

The sounds get nearer - clopping and footsteps and the occasional whinnie. Junhyung’s hand is clammy -  an uncomfortable feeling against Hyunseung’s skin. The hairs on his arms rise when the caravan passes the other side of the wall. He hears no voices, yet the footfalls speak of a group of ten or more. They sound like sleepwalkers. He finds himself holding his breath, his eyes locked with Junhyung’s.

And then the sounds of the caravan are fading, and then they’re gone. Junhyung lets out a long breath, and shifts to sit with his back against the wall. He closes his eyes, tips his head back.

Hyunseung pulls his wrist from Junhyung’s grasp, and Junhyung’s hand falls heavily onto the grass.

“They’re looking for me.”

The claim strikes Hyunseung as farfetched. “How do you know they’re looking for you? They’re just people outside.”

Junhyung’s eyes snap open. His irises reflect the moon. “It’s night. There shouldn’t be anyone outside.”

“I’m outside.”

“Yeah, well, since when have laws meant anything to you?” Junhyung gets to his feet. Usually, the words would be said with affection, with a grin. Now, Junhyung sounds distracted. He stares down the road though the caravan is long departed.

Hyunseung stands as well, brushes off his knees and follows Junhyung’s gaze. The road fades into darkness. “They’re probably from far away, where it doesn’t matter if you go out at night.”

“They’ve passed by here every night for the past two weeks, at the same time.”

“Junhyung -”

“There’s no horse pulling the carriage.”

Hyunseung pauses. Furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

Junhyung turns around. “There’s no horse pulling the carriage. I saw, the first night they came by. They were stopped right on the other side of the wall here. I was inside; I saw them out my window.”

He motions with his chin towards an upper window in the building just off the road.

“They were just stopped, with this big old carriage, and I figured some of them must have been pulling it. But when they finally decided to leave, the carriage just started moving on its own.”

After a moment, Hyunseung speaks. “Oh. That’s different.”

Junhyung snorts, humor pulling his lips into a grin. It doesn’t last long. “I’m sure they’re here for me.”

“Well, they aren’t looking very hard.”

“Not looking. Waiting. I think I’m supposed to go with them.”

The fear is back in Junhyung’s eyes. Hyunseung steps closer, takes his hand.

“Go where?”

“I don’t know,” Junhyung says. He shrugs feebly. His fingers tighten around Hyunseung’s.

“So stay here, then.”

“And what, blur away into nothingness?” Junhyung says, with a bitter edge to his voice.

“It would probably take a while,” Hyunseung says. He gives a close-lipped smile. “You’re not that blurry. Just…just around the edges. Just a really little bit.”

Junhyung looks away. “I have to go with them. I know it.”

Hyunseung sighs. “Well, that kind of makes me sad.”

“Sorry,” Junhyung says. He makes a sound, something on the verge of speech, then shuts his mouth. He lets out a breath. “Sorry.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Junhyung’s eyes find his again. “That’s one of the stupidest ideas you’ve ever come up with.”

“I wasn’t being serious,” Hyunseung says. It isn’t quite true.

“You’d better go home.”

Hyunseung scoffs. “What, before the ghosts get me?”

“Who knows what might get you,” Junhyung says solemnly. “There might be more of me.”

“That doesn’t exactly frighten me.”

“You should go home.”

“Okay, fine.” Hyunseung lets out a breath. “So are you gonna leave tomorrow, then?” He feels a pang of dread when Junhyung’s eyes shift away. “Just don’t leave before I get to say goodbye, okay?” he says, before Junhyung can answer.

Junhyung gives a quiet “Yeah.”

-

“You can’t,” Junhyung says through gritted teeth.

“I very well can, there’s nothing stopping me,” Hyunseung shoots back. His voice is hushed, but harsh nonetheless. They’re walking quickly through dark streets, Junhyung in front, Hyunseung in tow, hand wrapped tight around Junhyung’s wrist. They duck low beneath windows, take long strides past alleys.

“I’m stopping you,” Junhyung growls. He tries to yank his wrist from Hyunseung’s grip; Hyunseung just tightens his fingers and trips as he’s jerked forward, pack bouncing against his back.

“You’re obviously not,” he says. His voice jolts as he tries to meet Junhyung’s pace again.

Junhyung stops. Hyunseung collides with him, then stumbles back a step. “What the -”

“Hyunseung, please,” Junhyung turns around. His expression is beseeching.

Hyunseung feels a pang of guilt. “I’m not staying here,” he says. His voice is rough in his throat. “I don’t have anything else here. There’s no point. There’s nothing for me in this place.”

“There’s nothing for you where I’m going. I don’t even know where I’m going.”

“I don’t care. Anywhere’s better than here.”

Junhyung wrenches his arm away. Caught off guard, Hyunseung loses his grip. They glare at each other.

“You know you can’t stop me,” Hyunseung says quietly.

Junhyung makes a frustrated sound and spins on his heel.

Hyunseung rushes forward, falls into step beside him. “You’ll need some good company for the trip, anyway,” he says, voice light. He glances at Junhyung.

Junhyung’s mouth doesn’t even twitch.

They don’t speak until they reach the main road that leaves the town. Down the road and in front of a brick wall, people cluster around a carriage, the moon and stars lighting the tops of their heads. Hyunseung notices two shorter figures out in front, standing side by side, their faces inscrutable in the distance. The height difference is pronounced-they look nearly child-like compared to the others.

“You didn’t tell me there were tiny people with them,” Hyunseung whispers.

“I guess I didn’t notice,” Junhyung says stiffly.

Hyunseung glances down, notices Junhyung’s hand tensed at his side. He looks back at the small crowd. The two short figures look as though they might reach his hips. Their coats hang over wide-set frames. A few steps closer, and Hyunseung makes out deep folds in their jowls, the sag of their cheeks, signs of age. He can’t see their eyes beneath the shadows cast by the brims of their hats.

He notices Junhyung’s hand twitch. Junhyung wipes it on his side.

“Don’t worry, nothing’s gonna happen,” Hyunseung murmurs.

Junhyung lets out a sharp exhale through his nose - like a scoff but too weighed down by fear.

The caravan shrinks back as Junhyung and Hyunseung near. But the other two hold their ground, heads tipping up slightly as Junhyung and Hyunseung come to a stop several yards away.

Hyunseung feels their eyes but still can’t see them. His heart makes a heavy beat in the silence.

“So,” Junhyung says. Hyunseung knows him well enough to catch the false bravado. “You’ve been -”

“Waiting for you, yes,” finishes the stout figure on the right. His voice is surprisingly breathy. He turns his head slightly to look at Hyunseung. “But not for you.”

Hyunseung swallows as the moon reflects two pinpricks of white in the shadow of the man’s hat. “I want to come,” he says. His words fall flat.

“You do not fit the regulations,” voices the other figure. His voice is smoother, deeper. Quieter, as well. A chill of unease runs up Hyunseung’s arms.

The first man’s wheezy voice stops Hyunseung just as he’s opening his mouth.

“But are you sure about that?”

The second man turns to his companion. “Yes, I’m sure. Can you not tell?”

“No, no, I can tell that he isn’t quite right,” wheezes the first man, “but I can tell that he isn’t quite wrong, either. He’s a bizarre one.”

“’Bizarre’ isn’t one of the requirements,” the second man says evenly. He turns to Hyunseung. His eyes are unreadable, lost in the gloom. “I’m afraid that you cannot -”

“The very fact that he wants to, though,” pipes up the first man, still staring at the other. “He wants to. It’s an omen we cannot ignore.”

“Omens hold no importance to us,” the second man says, words growing clipped. “He wants to come because of his friend. Am I right?” he asks, inclining his head at Hyunseung.

Hyunseung nods without thinking. Words evade him. The crowd in the background is staring, their eyes eerie in the dark. He glances at Junhyung for help.

Junhyung meets his eyes for a second, looks away quickly. Hyunseung feels a flare of anger.

“No. I’m coming with you.” He looks at the two figures. “I’m coming. I have everything I need. I won’t stay behind.”

The second man, the one that makes Hyunseung feel the most anxious, the most unwelcome, sighs heavily.

“I don’t know what you will gain from it,” the wheezy man says, “but I don’t think we would be right to prevent it. You are very strange.”

He peers up at Hyunseung. As aged and peculiar as the face is, it at least lacks outright hostility. Instead, it holds wary intrigue.

“You are very strange,” the man repeats. “You don’t fit the regulations, but perhaps you are close enough. Ben, what is your say?”

Hyunseung is confused for a moment, and then realizes when the other man sighs again, that Ben must be his name. He has never heard such a name - it’s too short, too foreign.

“You know what my say is,” Ben says, “but in the end, whether he stays behind or comes along makes no difference.” He turns and heads toward the wagon, and the crowd parts and steps out of his way.

“Well then, I suppose that’s that. And as for you,” the wheezy man says, addressing Junhyung for the first time, “you we’ve been expecting. And you have kept us waiting for much too long. We ought to leave now.”

And he hurries back towards the carriage after Ben. The two of them climb in, and Junhyung jumps as a horse whinnies - unseen but close by. Hyunseung reaches over and touches Junhyung’s wrist.

Of all the things Junhyung could be afraid of, the unknown has always been foremost. The unknown and the unnatural, and Hyunseung thinks that even if Junhyung doesn’t want him on this journey, he’ll need him.

The crowd re-congregates around the wagon, a few sparing Junhyung and Hyunseung curious glances, most looking lifeless about continuing their trek - like bodies that have fallen into a routine but have lost their souls along the way.

Another reason for Hyunseung to come along. He can’t let Junhyung become like that.

He nudges Junhyung in the side. “Come on, I think we should join them.” He moves to step forward, but Junhyung’s hand closes tightly around his wrist, holding him back.

“You’re really coming?”

Hyunseung glances over his shoulder. Junhyung’s jaw is tense. His forehead is pinched. Hyunseung can read his face better than he can read books.

Junhyung wants him to come because he’s afraid. He doesn’t want him to come for the same reason.

Hyunseung gives a small smile. Tugs his arm gently to get Junhyung walking. “Yeah, I’m coming.”

-

“You see,” Hyunseung says under his breath. “They aren’t so bad.”

He and Junhyung are walking at the end of the caravan, several paces behind the others. Dawn is on the horizon - a coral color against the gentle slope of hills. They’ve been walking for hours. He lost count of his steps somewhere in the one-thousand-one-hundreds, so he let his mind quiet to the sound of shoes against the road, the clop of hooves and the creak of the wagon wheels.

Nobody in the caravan has spoken since they’ve set off. He wonders if they remember how to. He wonders, also, if they ever tire. His feet are beginning to get sore.

He looks over at Junhyung. Wonders if Junhyung heard him. Wonders if he had spoken the words aloud.

Junhyung shrugs. His eyes are fixed forward.

“You can still talk, can’t you?” Hyunseung asks.

“Yeah.”

A breath of relief swells Hyunseung’s lungs, but he lets it out slowly, quietly. He’s wary of making noise, wary of attracting the attention of the others. So far, he and Junhyung have been thoroughly ignored.

“So yeah, they really aren’t that intimidating.”

“They’re like zombies,” Junhyung mutters.

“Pretty unintimidating zombies. All they do is walk.” He doesn’t mention Ben. He’s sure neither of them wants to talk about Ben.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It would be nice to get a scenery change, don’t you think?”

It’s been nothing but grass fields and the occasional distant tree. First in the indistinct shades of midnight, now the grayish green of early morning.

Junhyung shrugs. Hyunseung gives him up as a lost cause. But the way the wording forms in his head worries him.

When the sun is directly overhead, the carriage slows to a halt, and so do the walkers - all a bit blurry in the bright sunlight. Plains stretch endlessly on both sides of the road, though farmland is visible in the distance on each side.

Hyunseung watches the caravan members for a clue as to what to do. Most stand listlessly, but three - two men and a woman, all middle-aged - take a few unsure, shuffling steps toward the edge of the road. They stand for a moment facing the distant farmland, and then take off in its direction, side by side.

“Where are they going?” Hyunseung says. He isn’t expecting anyone to answer him, and is surprised when the young man nearest him turns to him.

“The end of their journey, hopefully,” he says, voice lacking much inflection, but expression surprisingly alert. His eyes look tired, but aware. Analyzing. They narrow slightly as they flit toward Junhyung. “I wish I could have brought a friend with me.”

He ambles away then, to lean against the back of the carriage with crossed arms. Hyunseung watches him for a moment. His outline is stronger than most of the others’ - it’s just a bit hazy, like Junhyung’s.

A creak from the carriage, and Ben and his companion climb out.

“We should be receiving someone soon,” Ben says.

It acts as a cue - the rest of the caravan disperses, some to the grass, some to lean against the carriage, some to merely sit in the dirt road a few paces away.

Hyunseung gives Junhyung a blank look, which Junhyung returns with a shrug.

“Well, I wanna eat,” Hyunseung says, and motions with his chin toward the side of the road. They head over, the sun shining onto the back of their necks.

“This is still really weird,” Junhyung says, as they sit down in the grass. “Really, really weird.”

Hyunseung looks up from unbuckling the top of his pack. “Well, yeah. What did you expect?”

“Nothing. I didn’t know what to expect.”

“Very wise of you,” Hyunseung says with a nod. He pulls a loaf of bread out of the pack, followed by strips of dried meat in a jar, and an apple. “You’re coping pretty well, though.”

Junhyung raises his eyebrows. “You’re coping pretty well.”

“Yeah, well, you know me. The typical’s a bit too dull.” He untwists the lid of the jar and takes out a strip of meat, and rips into it.

“I’d offer you some…” he says through a full mouth.

Junhyung gives a small smile. “Yeah. No thanks.”

“Just don’t go sucking my blood in the middle of the night or anything.”

Junhyung rolls his eyes. “I’m not a vampire.”

“How do you know? You don’t know what you are.”

“I’m not a vampire,” Junhyung says firmly.

Hyunseung chuckles. “That’s true. Vampires would die in the light. You’re just…a bit fuzzier than yesterday, I think.”

Junhyung purses his lips. “What?”

“I dunno. Just a bit harder to see. Not by much,” he adds quickly, when Junhyung starts to look alarmed. “Just, it’s a little bit harder to focus on your outline.”

He reaches out, pokes the fleshiest part of Junhyung’s cheek. Feels the skin dip beneath his finger, warm and mostly smooth. “It’s weird, because I can’t really see what I’m touching. I can see it, but I can’t bring it into focus. I feel like I need glasses, but only to look at a small part of you.”

He brings his hand away. Picks up the apple, and bites into it. His eyes sweep over the scattered caravan members. None of them interact. A woman sits cross-legged in the road, her long skirts covering her knees. A man kicks at clumps of grass off beyond the other side of the road, his hands in the pockets of his leather vest. They make weak impressions - the second Hyunseung looks away, he begins to forget what they look like.

As much time as he’s had to examine the caravan members, it’s as though nothing solid sticks in his mind. The most he can conjure without looking at any particular person is an image of moonlit eyes, a ponytail swaying side to side, the spurs glinting on a man’s boots as he walks. Shadowy shoulders bobbing up and down, the silver-washed tops of their heads.

“They’re coming back,” Junhyung says. He’s looking past Hyunseung.

Hyunseung twists around, and sees the three figures that had departed heading back toward them. They walk side by side, but act unaware of each other’s presence.

“Looks like they didn’t find the end of their story, or whatever that guy said,” Junhyung says.

Hyunseung turns back around. Junhyung is frowning, eyebrows pulled harshly over his eyes, lips pulled tensely together. The effect makes him look unkind.

“Maybe next time,” Hyunseung says.

Junhyung blinks and looks at him, expression losing some of its edge. Then he flops backward into the grass. “I hope whoever we’re waiting for doesn’t keep us waiting forever.”

“I’ll point out that you had them waiting for what? Two weeks?” Hyunseung takes another bite of his apple. Juice trickles down his chin. He wipes it away with the back of his hand. “No wonder that guy by the fence seemed irritated at you. You’re probably the worst reception they’ve ever gotten.”

Junhyung grunts. Kicks Hyunseung’s knee. Hyunseung curses him, but finds himself stifling a small grin all the same.

-

“So when were you going to tell me?”

They are sitting in the grass in a grove of apple trees. The carriage is stopped a short ways away, on the road, lit by the moon waning overhead. People are scattered here and there - dark forms in the night. There is one more caravan member than yesterday.

“Were you going to?” Hyunseung waits for an answer, not quite accusing but heart a little heavy nonetheless.

Junhyung shrugs, picks at the grass. “I probably would have told you. I don’t know when, though.”

“Why the hesitation?”

Junhyung meets his gaze. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

“So? You didn’t know that.”

“I had a feeling,” Junhyung says, with a sliver of a smile.

Hyunseung rolls his eyes halfheartedly. “Still. I don’t want to believe that you would have just left me there. Just like that.”

Junhyung looks back at the ground, smile dropping. The night is quiet, the silence is calm. “I would have looked back,” he says finally, words mumbled, shy.

Hyunseung’s eyebrows raise, he opens his mouth to speak.

The snap of a twig. Junhyung’s entire body jerks. A figure of a man appears behind him - short and squat with draping overcoat. Junhyung cranes his head around, then scoots closer to Hyunseung.

Hyunseung can’t tell who the figure is until he speaks, and then the telltale wheeze lightens the ominous weight settling on his shoulders.

“It doesn’t look like anyone will be arriving tonight. We plan to be off soon.”

Hyunseung regains his bearings first. He gets to his feet, grabs Junhyung behind the elbow to pull him up as well. “What if they come once we’re gone?” he asks.

The man who is Ben’s companion - the one whose name they don’t know - shakes his head. The wrinkles etched into his face look deeper in the moonlight. “They won’t. We’ll make a circle, come back tomorrow night. We’ll receive them in due time.”

Hyunseung has always been too curious (duly curious, he thinks; too curious, Junhyung thinks), and the time seems ideal to ask a question. “Is it usually like this, when you wait for new people? Or is it usually like yesterday, when they come on the first day?”

The man tips his head a bit. Seems to think for a moment. “Some come quicker. They are ready. Some are more stubborn. Reluctant. Your friend is the latter.”

“What do we come to you for?”

It’s Junhyung who speaks, and Hyunseung is surprised. By the firmness of his voice, but also by the fact that he has spoken at all. Junhyung’s eyebrows are furrowed demandingly, eyes trained steadily on the short man.

“Not many ask. It’s interesting that you do,” Ben’s companion wheezes, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

“Well, I dunno what I’m doing here other than I know I need to be here. I wanna know why I know that, though.”

“You’re looking for somebody,” the man says, as though pointing out an obvious fact.

“I’m looking for somebody?” Junhyung says in disbelief. “Who?”

“I don’t have much time to explain.”

“Just give me the quick version.”

The stout man takes another pause, then after a breath says, “A full explanation would involve getting into fate and reality, and how reality often alters what is fated. As does time, which is a measurement of where everything that exists stands relative to each other - things that have happened, are happening, and are planned - fated - to happen. Certain events are meant to happen at certain times, but sometimes, for certain reasons, the measuring cup of time is overturned. And what is fated no longer bleeds into what is reality.”

Hyunseung’s brain whirs. He can see Junhyung’s doing so, as well - can see it in the out-of-focus look in Junhyung’s eyes as he takes a moment to process what they’ve been told. Trying to figure out if it’s all nonsense.

The man continues too soon, reedy voice filling up the clearing.

“To put that into perspective, every single human being is fated to meet one other, specific person in his or her lifetime. You are meant to meet someone, at a specific time, and this is meant to be part of your reality. They may not play a long-lasting role in your life, but it is always a large one. But if something has happened to time’s hold on you, so that this fate can no longer be a reality, well, then you join this caravan.”

The silence that falls rings in Hyunseung’s ears. Lack of sleep drags his mind to sluggish speeds, drowning under the weight of convoluted words.

“This caravan is made up of souls who are still searching for the person they were meant to meet,” the man says in conclusion.

Hyunseung’s eyes snap to the man’s. “Souls?”

The man nods, gives a mysterious smile. “At least partially. I don’t expect you to understand, but the fact that you -” (he looks at Junhyung) “- are curious is very curious indeed.” A horse whinnies, and he looks over his shoulder. “We’re off, it seems.”

Hyunseung casts Junhyung a look as the stout man heads away. He’s sure that Junhyung’s expression mirrors his own - forehead wrinkled in question, lips quirked down in a frown. And then Junhyung shrugs, jerks his chin in a signal that they should be off as well.

Fate, reality, time. Hyunseung can feel the gears in his head grinding, can feel them in the beginnings of a headache at his temples.

-

They return to the apple orchard the next evening, and Hyunseung’s mind is still churning. Junhyung has been silent all day, and drifts off to stand by the side of the road when they stop. It’s unnerving, how bit by bit he’s begun acting like the other caravan members - as though sometimes his body is all that’s left of him, mindless and barren.

But Hyunseung has questions to ask, and he takes the opportunity to do so.

Ben and his companion are standing behind the wagon, voices low, heads close in conversation. They both turn to Hyunseung as he approaches, and one, who he assumes is Ben, stalks off.

His theory is confirmed when he stops if front of the other man, who says is his wheezy voice, “He doesn’t dislike you. You’re just a conundrum.”

This is unnerving, too - Ben’s aversion to him. But Hyunseung comforts himself with the thought that cold stares and colder shoulders are the blunt of what he’s received, so he turns his mind to more important matters. “I have more questions.”

“And I am not surprised,” Ben’s companion says, with a smile Hyunseung has begun to perceive as kind.

“You said that these souls - people - are still looking for their…” he searches for the right words, but the ones that appear on his tongue feel strange, “…for their fated person. You said they can’t, though, so what are they doing here?”

“I never said they can’t.”

Hyunseung furrows his eyebrows. “You said their reality was messed up because of time and so their fate was...they can’t meet their fated person.”

The man smiles. Calmly, he explains, “Their fate as it was meant to be has been altered. But time works differently for them now. Time, as it originally is, is a mark of when things have happened, and will happen. Think of it this way, time is what is inside a measuring cup. This measuring cup has been overturned. Time has spilled, but it hasn’t disappeared. It just no longer follows the same patterns - things are no longer scheduled to happen at certain times. Their fate still exists in this spilled time, but it is a muddy thing, not the same fate as it had once been. It is still reachable, at least the fated person is, but the circumstances of this meeting will be different. And they need a guide, to set them on the right path to get there.”

“But if time is a mark of when things happen, then it would be like a timeline. A straight line. But if it’s like liquid in a cup, it isn’t a straight line.”

The man chuckles - a dry rasp in his throat. “You truly are interesting. But time is neither a straight line nor a liquid. It can be like both, if we try to describe it in terms we can conceptualize. But it is neither. Thus, both examples make sense, though they both also do not. The examples are not what are important, though. Time is.”

“But how do you even - never mind. But basically, they can still - Junhyung can still meet this fated person? And that’s what he needs to do, to make his soul…I dunno, whole?”

“Yes, he can still meet his fated person,” the man says, nodding encouragingly. “And yes, this is what he needs to do, to patch up the gap in his reality that is otherwise very much whole.”

“And how do they know, when they find this person, that it’s the right one?”

“They will know. Sometimes they get too eager, and think they are closer to finding their person that they really are. But ultimately, they know when they are close, and when it’s time to leave.”

A moment’s pause, and another thought strikes. “You said that people don’t usually ask about why they join the caravan. Do all these other people know, then, that they’re looking for a person?”

“No, they don’t. They do know that they’re looking for something, and can feel when they are close.”

Hyunseung takes in a breath, feels it fill his lungs. He lets it out slowly.

“One more question. What’s your name?”

The man lets out a quiet chuckle. “My name? You indeed are peculiar. I cannot remember the last time I have been asked. My name is Abe.”

-

He tells Junhyung what he’s learned (what he thinks he’s learned; what little sense he’s been able to make of it all) later than night, when they are back in the apple grove. He’s lying in the grass, top of his head touching Junhyung’s thigh; Junhyung is sitting up, arms propped behind him, legs stretched straight in front of him.

“So then,” Junhyung says, staring into space as Hyunseung stares up at him. “I’m just gonna be able to tell that this person is close by, and I go find them, and then what?”

Hyunseung yawns. He resists sleep’s tug on his eyelids. “I’m not sure. He made it sound like an ending, though.”

“Why didn’t you ask him?”

“I figured I already knew the answer.” A pause, as he stares at the underside of Junhyung’s jaw and his vision slides out of focus. He blinks. “I figure you do, too.”

“Not really,” Junhyung says stubbornly.

Hyunseung grins. Then he sighs. “So I guess it means you’ve finished your journey, like that guy said a few days ago. You’re done. I guess…then you get to go.” Then, with a burn in his throat that is both sudden and severe, he says, “I’ll miss you.”

Junhyung looks down at him for a second, looks away just as quickly. His expression is alarmed, and guilty. “Don’t. Just - just get some sleep. You’ve barely gotten any.” He turns his face away. “Just…get some sleep.”

Hyunseung presses his lips together. He rolls onto his side, away from Junhyung. Blades of grass are itchy against his cheek. He tries to bury the uncomfortable feeling in his chest - embarrassment and worry and bitterness. Bitterness most of all, and all the reasons seem to center around Junhyung, but he doesn’t want to examine them further.

He starts when Junhyung’s fingers comb through the hair against his nape. He relaxes when they repeat the motion. “What do you think about all that weird stuff he was saying about time?” he asks, trying to inject a hint of humor into his voice. “What do you think? Is it a line, or a cup of tea?”

“I’ll stick to it being whatever is on my watch,” Junhyung says. His fingers are gentle, and so is his voice - his way of apologizing, Hyunseung knows. “It sounds like he was speaking a whole lot of crazy, but with the way everything’s going now, it probably was all legitimate.”

-

Another person from their caravan trickles away the next day, as they pass by a small village. She is a young woman, or was, or is partly. Her outline is so unclear that Hyunseung’s pupils ache as they try to bring her form into focus. The gleam of the midday sun does nothing to help, and soon he blinks and looks away.

Nobody else seems to notice her leave. Junhyung is silent and forward-facing beside him. His outline is the strongest of everyone’s, and nobody’s is as muddled as the woman’s who has left, but they are all a bit blurrier during the day.

She, unlike the first three, doesn’t come back. A white dress is all that Hyunseung remembers, as he and Junhyung sit in the apple orchard that night, mostly in silence. Hyunseung gets restless, picks a few apples to fill his bag, and eventually a new arrival makes up for the woman’s departure.

They set off again long before the sun has risen. Junhyung is silent at Hyunseung’s side, his outline just a bit blurrier than the night before. He’s starting to look like a mirage.

A feeling like dread, but also like resignation, gnaws at Hyunseung’s insides.

-

“It’s hot,” Hyunseung complains. His feet kick up little clouds of dust as he walks. The sun beats down on his shoulders.

“I know,” Junhyung says beside him. “You’ve only told me twenty times already.”

Hyunseung throws his head back, groans. “It’s so fucking hot. I’m so tired of walking.”

“You’re the one who insisted on coming along.”

Hyunseung frowns at Junhyung, who determinedly avoids his gaze, lips pursed, tense.

“Wow, okay. Glad to know I’m appreciated,” Hyunseung mutters, and turns his head away. The caravan is heading through farmland that comes right up to the road - rows upon rows of trees and bushels and stalks sprouting from the ground. Shade that eludes the road.

“Sorry,” Junhyung says, a minute later.

“Whatever,” Hyunseung breathes. He tries to quell is irritation, at least the part that’s directed at Junhyung. “I just wanna get out of the sun. Go for a swim, or something. Maybe we’ll stop by a lake.”

They do stop not long after, but not by a lake. Hyunseung lets out a frustrated breath as the carriage wheels creak to a halt, groves of some type of tree on both sides of the road. His feet are sore and he’s tired of dirt roads. Tired of his skin baking under the sun and the stars whispering his worries to him as he tries to sleep at night.

He’s tired of eating apples and dried meat. Tired of trying to talk to a slowly muting Junhyung.

“Wonder how long we’re gonna be waiting this time,” he says under his breath.

Junhyung grunts. He catches sight of Hyunseung’s expression, and says quickly, “I dunno, probably not long.”

Hyunseung rolls his eyes. He turns away, intention to head off the road for the shade of a tree. His gaze meets Ben’s - the short man is standing by the carriage, and his eyes narrow when they lock with Hyunseung’s. Not quite menacingly, but unfriendly and evaluating all the same. Then he looks away and climbs into the carriage.

“Can we stop somewhere with water next time?” Hyunseung grumbles. His voice is loud enough to carry to the carriage, though he doesn’t wait to listen for a response (he doubts he would hear one, anyway).

-

They turn off the main road as the sky starts to turn the rich golden of pre-sunset. There’s another new member to their caravan. A man. Or maybe a woman? Hyunseung’s already forgotten. It’s all monotony and variations of eraser-smudged outlines, and the soreness in the soles of his feet.

He doesn’t question when the carriage creaks to a halt perhaps an hour later, and the faint murmur of water can be heard somewhere behind the trees. It’s as though his prayer has been answered, and he leaves Junhyung with a curt grunt of “I need a bath,” and follows his ears through the bushes and along the banks of a stream that eventually widens into a lake. The banks are moist and mossy, the trees are thick enough that the sun, sunk down towards the horizon, can only dapple the water’s surface.

He takes off his shoes, can feel his feet rejoice at their newfound freedom. He rids himself of his socks, damp and sweaty and reeking all kinds of terrible. He hesitates for a moment, then rids himself of his clothes as well - shirt and pants shucked to the ground, and the air is cool against his skin.

He steps to the edge of the bank, moss spongy beneath his heels. Toes the water, finds it crisp. He suppresses a shudder, and steps in. Thoughts of midday sun make the coolness refreshing, and he slowly wades his way into the lake. When the water reaches his armpits, he cups some in his hands and splashes it over his face.

He feels light. It’s funny, because he thinks he should be shivering, but maybe the sun has baked him enough that only a freezing cold would affect him.

He settles onto his back, gives a few kicks of his legs to travel farther out into the center. He can’t remember the last time he went for a swim. It’s so peaceful here, birds and the ripples of the water the only sound. The sky is a deep blue, tinged with reaches of orange from the setting sun.

He feels his muscles unwinding, and decides to do a few laps - he feels like he hasn’t used his arms for anything in ages.

The lake is too deep for his feet to touch the ground where he is, so he wades for a moment, orienting himself. Something brushes against his foot, and he tenses, a shock of cold in his gut.

Just a plant, he tells himself, when he feels it again - the slimy softness of some underwater weed reaching for the surface. He faces the farthest-away bank and starts to swim, but quickly finds himself kicking through a thicker patch of weeds. Tendrils sway around his ankles, brush against his shins. He tries to get past them, but just finds more the farther he travels.

So much for a peaceful swim, he thinks. But he’s just beginning to feel goose bumps along his arms. A chill beneath his skin that has him longing for the beating sun.

He pulls his leg from a weed that is rapping its way around, stirred up by the kicking of his feet. He decides to head back to the shore.

-

“You don’t look as blurry.”

Junhyung glances sideways at him. Grins - the liveliest motion out of him in several days. His eyes shine just a bit brighter, too. Then again, it might just be the moon’s reflection. “You’re just saying that,” he says.

Hyunseung shrugs. He can’t quite tell. It’s dark and that makes a bit of a difference. But he really can’t tell.

“How are you?” Junhyung asks, looking back ahead. There are trees in front of them. The road behind them. They’re sitting on a toppled tree trunk. It’s the middle of the forest, and Hyunseung doesn’t know where anyone would live, but he figures there must be life somewhere nearby since they’ve stopped here to wait.

“What kind of question is that?” Hyunseung asks. “We’ve been together for the last I don’t even know how many days. It’s not like we’ve just spent weeks apart.”

Junhyung laughs quietly. “Yeah, well, still. I’m just wondering. How you’re dealing.”

“Well enough,” Hyunseung says. Silence settles in. Their arms are close. Hyunseung becomes hyperaware of the distance. Becomes hyper-focused on not accidentally bumping their shoulders together. “I’ve been thinking too much. Worrying about you.”

A pause, and then, “Why?” Junhyung says simply.

“You used to be so afraid. And curious. But now you’re just…nothing much.” He pulls a knee up, wraps his arms around it. “You remind me of a sleepwalker sometimes. It’s unnerving.”

Junhyung doesn’t speak for a long time. Long enough so that when he does speak again, they can both pretend to have forgotten the topic.

“Are you gonna sleep?”

“Not really tired.”

“Really?” Junhyung looks at him, eyebrows going up. “You haven’t slept for a few days, have you?”

“I dunno, have I?” Hyunseung asks. He attempts a smile, but can only manage a brief quirk of his lips. “The days all kinda run together, now.”

Junhyung’s forehead wrinkles - contemplating, trying to remember days that are all the same and nights that are just as dull. “You should try to sleep, anyway. Who knows how long we’ll be walking tomorrow.”

“And if I can’t fall asleep?”

“Try harder,” Junhyung grunts, and Hyunseung has to smile because this is the Junhyung he’s been missing.

-

He runs into Abe in the middle of the day.

He is walking, head lowered slightly and eyes on the road, because this is the best way to tell that time is passing (the trees all look the same after a while). And then he collides with something solid - someone solid, who turns out to be a stout man in an oversized overcoat, brim of his hat angled over his eyes.

“Sorry,” Hyunseung says, mind still half-lost in the blur of the dirt beneath his feet. And then he realizes that the carriage has stopped. And that he can feel the force of the impact against his chest, though it’s a faraway feeling - like he had run into a pillow rather than a person.

“You’re awfully distracted Something is changing.”

When he looks up, Abe is walking away, into the trees, and the words are just starting to take form in his head.

A hand touches his wrist. He jumps, turns his head a bit too quickly, feels his neck crick.

“Hungry?” Junhyung asks. Eyes a bit searching and a bit protective and a lot tired. You haven’t eaten in days, Hyunseung knows he’s going to say, and it’s a conversation he doesn’t want to have.

He tries to rub away the burn in his neck. Shrugs a shoulder. Lets Junhyung wrap gentle fingers around his wrist and lead him to the side of the road.

-

He holds his pack in his left hand. The top flap is open. He holds an apple in his right hand. It’s starting to mold.

He stands on the banks of a stream. It gurgles peacefully. Dusk is falling. Birds are settling down in the trees, giving the occasional chirp.

He lets out a breath. Lifts his right arm, muscles tensing, preparing. Then he throws the apple into the water. Takes another out of his pack, and throws it in as well. Then the third, and last.

They meet the water with a rhythmic plunk-plunk-plunk, then bob idly as they are pulled slowly downstream. The weight in his left hand is light - just an empty glass jar and nothing much else inside the worn canvas. His only possessions.

He lets out another breath, then heaves the entire pack into the water as well. Its splash is louder, more distinct. He leaves before he can see it pulled away by the current.

-

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Bark grazes against his shoulders as he’s pushed against a tree trunk. Except the pain is only a background sensation, the shocked stammer of his heart in the foreground. Junhyung’s face is inches from his, Junhyung’s fingers are bruising against his upper arms. A snarl of teeth.

“Nothing,” slips out of Hyunseung’s mouth, automatically and breathlessly. How long had Junhyung been there? How much had Junhyung seen?

Junhyung barely moves his jaw as he speaks. His voice is low, a menacing rumble. “Why’d you throw it away?”

“It was heavy.”

“Liar.”

The thought of escape only occurs to Hyunseung now, and he tries to shoulder his way out of Junhyung’s grasp. But Junhyung forces him back against the tree with a strength that is surprising. Also surprising is the fury in his eyes - since when has Junhyung looked this alive?

“How long?” Junhyung growls.

“How long what?” Hyunseung spits out, frustration turned to anger and he narrows his eyes.

“How long have you been dead?” The word they’ve been avoiding for so long falling cold and heavy. The fire rushes out of the air, leaving a substance that is too thick, not right for breathing. Something has settled - finality, maybe.

Hyunseung’s body sags, shoulders slumping forward. Junhyung’s looking at him as though he’s committed the ultimate betrayal. “Not too long.”

“How could you?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Hyunseung flares up. But he doesn’t have the energy for indignation. He averts his eyes. “It just happened.”

“When?”

“Not too long ago, I said.”

“How?”

“What is this, an interrogation?”

Junhyung’s hands are on his face, forcing him to make eye contact. He’s going to kiss me, Hyunseung thinks dully. It’s as though dying has taken the last dregs of his energy - a funny thought, because this is how it should be but then again he doesn’t feel dead. Not completely.

Junhyung doesn’t kiss him, but Hyunseung’s already forgotten the thought ever crossed his mind.

“What did you do?” Junhyung says slowly, annunciating each word. His outline is clear. There are blemishes on his cheeks. His hair is still the awkward-neatness of blunt ends and a bit too much forehead showing, and the buzz on the back of his neck. Deceptive, as though no time has passed. Hyunseung remembers sitting on the brick wall, remembers the fear in Junhyung’s eyes and the clamminess of his hands.

“I drowned.”

A minute twitch of Junhyung’s brow. “You drowned?”

“I think so.”

“Then why aren’t you all wet?”

“Why aren’t your ribs broken?”

Junhyung exhales. Brushes his thumbs along Hyunseung’s cheekbones, a gentle motion though frustration leaves his lips tense and his eyebrows angled harshly. “Fine,” he says curtly. “Great. Now what?”

Hyunseung pulls up a side of his mouth. Pulls Junhyung’s hands away from his face, though he keeps them in his own. “So now we’re just two lost souls, I guess.”

-
next part