[fic] absence of color
Title: absence of color
Author: MeiBi
Length: 1,977 words
Pairing: Kangin/Leeteuk/Eunhyuk
Genre: AU
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine except for the plot and the writing.
Summary: Eunhyuk writes down everything that happens in a day; with neat handwriting on a neat lined paper, in the neat chronological order, and collects them neatly into a pile of white stack.
A/N: Miracle's 2008 Fic Exchange for puppycadet. Originally posted here
This story has been edited to correct some of the obvious grammatical errors.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Edgar Allan Poe; Alone 1875
It is always the hardest when it comes to retelling the beginning of something, the precise moment in time that helps spin the other moments into action. It is always the hardest because it is also the easiest to be ignored, discarded, and eventually forgotten.
Eunhyuk writes down everything that happens in a day; with neat handwriting on a neat lined paper, in the neat chronological order, and collects them neatly into a pile of white stack. He keeps them close under his pillow, and reads them so often that the pages turn crumbled; pen runs on scrap papers, pencil sometimes when he forgets where he puts his pen, and on tissue papers twice because he forgets he had used the last piece yesterday, and the day before.
Eunhyuk also writes down about his dreams, something he sees when he is asleep: things he wants to believe is one of his lost treasured memories. He has so many of them every night, always different from one another; except on Friday. Friday is a special day, and Friday is Eunhyuk's favorite.
It is always at the night time; a night time with only bright red moon shining on the dirty red sky, and the sloppy faded red rain pouring down hard on the entire town, painting blood on every surfaces. Bare hands, Eunhyuk tries to dig up the copper ground, fingers bruised, heels ached, eyes unfocused.
Too slow. Said soft small voice, barely audible, and Eunhyuk jerks his head, searches the dark, sees nothing. You're always too slow.
'No,' Eunhyuk does not know what he is looking for, but he goes back digging, fingers raking the ground, body trembling with coldness. 'Deeper, just a little deeper, and I will be able to...' He is shaking now, oh so uncontrollably shaking. He cannot feel his fingers anymore, and he cannot see anything beyond the muddy red soil. He also does not want to give up.
You're wasting our time. Another voice reaches him, so intense Eunhyuk let loose a sob, the throaty voice that sounds so familiar. We'll be late for the meeting.
And Eunhyuk hears a sigh, feels someone shifting closer, again, you're always make us late. Then comes small laughter, high-pitched and low-pitched, giggling and rumbling, from left and from right, and he is not on the ground anymore but on a soft warm bed, with soft body and hard body, angular and muscular, comforting and strong.
'But,' stubborn as Eunhyuk is, 'We've got to find them or...
Eunhyuk writes down everything, sometimes in the middle of the night, because he fears he will forget them as soon as the sun comes up; fingers clutches at the pen in a desperate death grip, knuckle turns white over the ruined paper, dim light outside from the glass pane on the door, the last resort of hope in this darkness, soothing his shuddering body.
Eunhyuk writes down everything because he does not remember anymore what it is like to be able to remember. He is so terrified of how he cannot do it, and so he writes, always writes, always pours down everything inside his head onto the paper like an endless red smearing on an empty canvas, always scribbles k after u after y after h after n after u after e, always buries his head in the paper, writing, until he does not remember anymore why he does it in the first place.
That, or until someone reminds him that it is the check-up day and he needs to be taken to the lab and has tubes and wires sticking out of his body and having someone cutting him open and seeing inside his head and-
Until he remembers that today is his favorite Friday.
It is at the night time, the familiar night time Eunhyuk thinks he remembers but not quite certain of, and for an instant, Eunhyuk feels like he needs to run as fast as he can, away from all of this.
'I have to find them,' he starts searching the ground, finding the soft enough spot to dig. They are coming, he has to hurry, because if he fails they are going to win, and they are going to kill-
He does not remember why he is so scared.
I can't sleep. Suddenly the scenery changes and Eunhyuk cannot see the face, but he feels like he knows the person who speaks to him; soft calming voice, gentle eyes, golden smile with dimple. He does not remember why he knows these things though; he cannot see the face. Your grip is too tight. His arms are around the man's middle, clinging like it has been done a thousand times before. Eunhyuk does not remember either having done this.
You'll break him into two, another voice laughs; deep vibrant voice, eyes smiling, a strong comforting hold on Eunhyuk's hip. I don't think it's wise to split him half and have another Teukie, one is quite enough.
And Eunhyuk does not understand, cannot match the name with the face, does not remember these two strangers, does not remember this craving warmth, does not recall the aching in his heart, does not understand the humour, but he laughs, long and loud, small hesitated giggles at first until they becomes a series of burst happiness, laughs until he cannot breathe, laughs until he starts to cry.
You're worse than Sungmin. The first man pouts, voice serious. At least he doesn't encourage Kangin like you always did, and Eunhyuk does not remember having this kind of conversation before, does not remember why he wants the man to stop being so upset, and does not remember how to make him starts smiling again. So he kisses him, kisses him with all he might, kisses him while the second man grips his hip tighter, until he remembers it being bruised, kisses him until he feels the first, no, Teukie, kisses him back, and the second, no, Kangin, nibbling at his shoulder, and almost, almost remember why.
Eunhyuk writes everything down on the tissue paper for the third time because he cannot find his papers anywhere. He has searched high and low for them but all he could find is a couple of written pages that he misplaced sometimes ago and could not remember doing it; he finally realizes that they had finally taken them away.
Eunhyuk writes about dreading all of them, those men in white lab gowns, for always hurting him, testing something on his body just to observe the reaction, just to complete the chart. He does not understand why he has been given all those treatment, but the red wristband hanging loosely on his left arm separates him from all the others―the rightful citizens of The City.
He is not supposed to remember this either but one of the staffs, a pink haired man who always looks at him with sad beautiful eyes and always brings him hot chocolate after the stressing routine check-up, patiently tells him the story (probably for more than hundred times already).
Green is the symbol of the citizen in The City, white is the symbol of the ruler class, and red is the symbol of the captured or the one that lost The War; Eunhyuk has a special name for them―The Lab Rat. The man's sad sad eyes look at him with so much grief, They will do this to me too if they find out I told you this, Eunhyuk has to squeeze his hand as the assurance that things are going to be okay; the man's wristband is yellow, the color that Eunhyuk does not remember the meaning.
It is the night time again, and Eunhyuk is still desperately trying to find whatever he is supposed to find under the ground. The opponent soldiers are about to break in the heavy secured walls of The City, and Eunhyuk, without even remembering why, cannot afford to be any slower.
'Faster, deeper, dig, dig, dig, just a little bit deeper,' and Eunhyuk swings his hands into the hard soil, knees hitting the ground with the soft thud, nails splitting, leaving trails of red blood all over his fingers. It hurts, but Eunhyuk cannot stop, because if he stops, all the members of his troop are going to be-
There is something sticking from the hole in the ground, a pale white finger of-
I don't see the point of doing this really. Someone says, voice thoughtful, and Eunhyuk turns around, finding himself face to face with-, he does not know what to expect anymore. He looks familiar but Eunhyuk does not know why. You'll only hurt yourself. Soft hands reach out and take hold of Eunhyuk's injured ones, and before Eunhyuk knows it, he is pulled into the coldest embrace he has ever experienced. This man does not have a pulse.
'I failed you,' muffled voice, realization slowly sinks in, eyes red, Eunhyuk feels like crying, 'I failed all of you.' And Sungmin is there, telling him the story with his sad sad eyes. The yellow wristband on his wrist is dangling in the cold wind―the symbol of the captured scientist who is force to develop the new government project, (yes, his name is Sungmin, Eunhyuk's childhood friend, he finally remembers), and Eunhyuk cries the tears of shame, cries on Leeteuk's shoulder.
You are the last one, another voice says, we're proud of you. The big man, with sparkling half-moon eyes, holding out two dog tags to Eunhyuk. They reads Kim Youngwoon and Park Jungsu, and he sees nothing, remembers only fraction of time.
'I don't know where to dig anymore,' Eunhyuk says, 'I can never find you.' Kangin touches the crown of his head, smiles so bright, almost as if he is still here; the bullet hole in his chest proves otherwise. Even if you find us, our troop is still-, and the soldiers are surrounding them, him, and Kangin is gone, Leeteuk is gone, and the dog tags are gone, and then there is this red wristband around his wrist, and, and-
Eunhyuk writes this down on the park bench when he is allowed outside the confined quarter; it is high summer and the breeze blowing from the sea carries a hint of chemical inflected fish, a phantom of salty sea creatures rotten on the red sands like an oily blanket on Eunhyuk's skin.
The new test subject is brought into the fully developed project in his place, a pink haired man with sad beautiful eyes who looks at Eunhyuk like he knows him, but Eunhyuk does not remember meeting him before. No one is there to bring him hot chocolate when the check-up is done though, and then Eunhyuk wonders why he becomes expectant of it in the first place.
No one talks to him either, and the story that Eunhyuk thinks he is supposed to be told every Friday is slowly starting to disappear from his mind. By the time he realizes that it might be some connection between him and the hot chocolate and the untold story, the pink-haired man does not look at him anymore; he starts to write down everything instead.
Eunhyuk writes down everything that happens in a day; with neat hand-writing on a neat lined paper, in the neat chronological order, and collects them neatly into a pile of white stack. But he cannot keep them for more than a day because the staffs always steal them when he falls asleep, Eunhyuk does not care though as he neatly draws ink into alphabets.
Leeteuk, Kangin, and does not remember anymore why he writes them besides his own name.
Started: 081017
Finished: 081017
Author: MeiBi
Length: 1,977 words
Pairing: Kangin/Leeteuk/Eunhyuk
Genre: AU
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine except for the plot and the writing.
Summary: Eunhyuk writes down everything that happens in a day; with neat handwriting on a neat lined paper, in the neat chronological order, and collects them neatly into a pile of white stack.
A/N: Miracle's 2008 Fic Exchange for puppycadet. Originally posted here
This story has been edited to correct some of the obvious grammatical errors.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Edgar Allan Poe; Alone 1875
It is always the hardest when it comes to retelling the beginning of something, the precise moment in time that helps spin the other moments into action. It is always the hardest because it is also the easiest to be ignored, discarded, and eventually forgotten.
Eunhyuk writes down everything that happens in a day; with neat handwriting on a neat lined paper, in the neat chronological order, and collects them neatly into a pile of white stack. He keeps them close under his pillow, and reads them so often that the pages turn crumbled; pen runs on scrap papers, pencil sometimes when he forgets where he puts his pen, and on tissue papers twice because he forgets he had used the last piece yesterday, and the day before.
Eunhyuk also writes down about his dreams, something he sees when he is asleep: things he wants to believe is one of his lost treasured memories. He has so many of them every night, always different from one another; except on Friday. Friday is a special day, and Friday is Eunhyuk's favorite.
It is always at the night time; a night time with only bright red moon shining on the dirty red sky, and the sloppy faded red rain pouring down hard on the entire town, painting blood on every surfaces. Bare hands, Eunhyuk tries to dig up the copper ground, fingers bruised, heels ached, eyes unfocused.
Too slow. Said soft small voice, barely audible, and Eunhyuk jerks his head, searches the dark, sees nothing. You're always too slow.
'No,' Eunhyuk does not know what he is looking for, but he goes back digging, fingers raking the ground, body trembling with coldness. 'Deeper, just a little deeper, and I will be able to...' He is shaking now, oh so uncontrollably shaking. He cannot feel his fingers anymore, and he cannot see anything beyond the muddy red soil. He also does not want to give up.
You're wasting our time. Another voice reaches him, so intense Eunhyuk let loose a sob, the throaty voice that sounds so familiar. We'll be late for the meeting.
And Eunhyuk hears a sigh, feels someone shifting closer, again, you're always make us late. Then comes small laughter, high-pitched and low-pitched, giggling and rumbling, from left and from right, and he is not on the ground anymore but on a soft warm bed, with soft body and hard body, angular and muscular, comforting and strong.
'But,' stubborn as Eunhyuk is, 'We've got to find them or...
Eunhyuk writes down everything, sometimes in the middle of the night, because he fears he will forget them as soon as the sun comes up; fingers clutches at the pen in a desperate death grip, knuckle turns white over the ruined paper, dim light outside from the glass pane on the door, the last resort of hope in this darkness, soothing his shuddering body.
Eunhyuk writes down everything because he does not remember anymore what it is like to be able to remember. He is so terrified of how he cannot do it, and so he writes, always writes, always pours down everything inside his head onto the paper like an endless red smearing on an empty canvas, always scribbles k after u after y after h after n after u after e, always buries his head in the paper, writing, until he does not remember anymore why he does it in the first place.
That, or until someone reminds him that it is the check-up day and he needs to be taken to the lab and has tubes and wires sticking out of his body and having someone cutting him open and seeing inside his head and-
Until he remembers that today is his favorite Friday.
It is at the night time, the familiar night time Eunhyuk thinks he remembers but not quite certain of, and for an instant, Eunhyuk feels like he needs to run as fast as he can, away from all of this.
'I have to find them,' he starts searching the ground, finding the soft enough spot to dig. They are coming, he has to hurry, because if he fails they are going to win, and they are going to kill-
He does not remember why he is so scared.
I can't sleep. Suddenly the scenery changes and Eunhyuk cannot see the face, but he feels like he knows the person who speaks to him; soft calming voice, gentle eyes, golden smile with dimple. He does not remember why he knows these things though; he cannot see the face. Your grip is too tight. His arms are around the man's middle, clinging like it has been done a thousand times before. Eunhyuk does not remember either having done this.
You'll break him into two, another voice laughs; deep vibrant voice, eyes smiling, a strong comforting hold on Eunhyuk's hip. I don't think it's wise to split him half and have another Teukie, one is quite enough.
And Eunhyuk does not understand, cannot match the name with the face, does not remember these two strangers, does not remember this craving warmth, does not recall the aching in his heart, does not understand the humour, but he laughs, long and loud, small hesitated giggles at first until they becomes a series of burst happiness, laughs until he cannot breathe, laughs until he starts to cry.
You're worse than Sungmin. The first man pouts, voice serious. At least he doesn't encourage Kangin like you always did, and Eunhyuk does not remember having this kind of conversation before, does not remember why he wants the man to stop being so upset, and does not remember how to make him starts smiling again. So he kisses him, kisses him with all he might, kisses him while the second man grips his hip tighter, until he remembers it being bruised, kisses him until he feels the first, no, Teukie, kisses him back, and the second, no, Kangin, nibbling at his shoulder, and almost, almost remember why.
Eunhyuk writes everything down on the tissue paper for the third time because he cannot find his papers anywhere. He has searched high and low for them but all he could find is a couple of written pages that he misplaced sometimes ago and could not remember doing it; he finally realizes that they had finally taken them away.
Eunhyuk writes about dreading all of them, those men in white lab gowns, for always hurting him, testing something on his body just to observe the reaction, just to complete the chart. He does not understand why he has been given all those treatment, but the red wristband hanging loosely on his left arm separates him from all the others―the rightful citizens of The City.
He is not supposed to remember this either but one of the staffs, a pink haired man who always looks at him with sad beautiful eyes and always brings him hot chocolate after the stressing routine check-up, patiently tells him the story (probably for more than hundred times already).
Green is the symbol of the citizen in The City, white is the symbol of the ruler class, and red is the symbol of the captured or the one that lost The War; Eunhyuk has a special name for them―The Lab Rat. The man's sad sad eyes look at him with so much grief, They will do this to me too if they find out I told you this, Eunhyuk has to squeeze his hand as the assurance that things are going to be okay; the man's wristband is yellow, the color that Eunhyuk does not remember the meaning.
It is the night time again, and Eunhyuk is still desperately trying to find whatever he is supposed to find under the ground. The opponent soldiers are about to break in the heavy secured walls of The City, and Eunhyuk, without even remembering why, cannot afford to be any slower.
'Faster, deeper, dig, dig, dig, just a little bit deeper,' and Eunhyuk swings his hands into the hard soil, knees hitting the ground with the soft thud, nails splitting, leaving trails of red blood all over his fingers. It hurts, but Eunhyuk cannot stop, because if he stops, all the members of his troop are going to be-
There is something sticking from the hole in the ground, a pale white finger of-
I don't see the point of doing this really. Someone says, voice thoughtful, and Eunhyuk turns around, finding himself face to face with-, he does not know what to expect anymore. He looks familiar but Eunhyuk does not know why. You'll only hurt yourself. Soft hands reach out and take hold of Eunhyuk's injured ones, and before Eunhyuk knows it, he is pulled into the coldest embrace he has ever experienced. This man does not have a pulse.
'I failed you,' muffled voice, realization slowly sinks in, eyes red, Eunhyuk feels like crying, 'I failed all of you.' And Sungmin is there, telling him the story with his sad sad eyes. The yellow wristband on his wrist is dangling in the cold wind―the symbol of the captured scientist who is force to develop the new government project, (yes, his name is Sungmin, Eunhyuk's childhood friend, he finally remembers), and Eunhyuk cries the tears of shame, cries on Leeteuk's shoulder.
You are the last one, another voice says, we're proud of you. The big man, with sparkling half-moon eyes, holding out two dog tags to Eunhyuk. They reads Kim Youngwoon and Park Jungsu, and he sees nothing, remembers only fraction of time.
'I don't know where to dig anymore,' Eunhyuk says, 'I can never find you.' Kangin touches the crown of his head, smiles so bright, almost as if he is still here; the bullet hole in his chest proves otherwise. Even if you find us, our troop is still-, and the soldiers are surrounding them, him, and Kangin is gone, Leeteuk is gone, and the dog tags are gone, and then there is this red wristband around his wrist, and, and-
Eunhyuk writes this down on the park bench when he is allowed outside the confined quarter; it is high summer and the breeze blowing from the sea carries a hint of chemical inflected fish, a phantom of salty sea creatures rotten on the red sands like an oily blanket on Eunhyuk's skin.
The new test subject is brought into the fully developed project in his place, a pink haired man with sad beautiful eyes who looks at Eunhyuk like he knows him, but Eunhyuk does not remember meeting him before. No one is there to bring him hot chocolate when the check-up is done though, and then Eunhyuk wonders why he becomes expectant of it in the first place.
No one talks to him either, and the story that Eunhyuk thinks he is supposed to be told every Friday is slowly starting to disappear from his mind. By the time he realizes that it might be some connection between him and the hot chocolate and the untold story, the pink-haired man does not look at him anymore; he starts to write down everything instead.
Eunhyuk writes down everything that happens in a day; with neat hand-writing on a neat lined paper, in the neat chronological order, and collects them neatly into a pile of white stack. But he cannot keep them for more than a day because the staffs always steal them when he falls asleep, Eunhyuk does not care though as he neatly draws ink into alphabets.
Leeteuk, Kangin, and does not remember anymore why he writes them besides his own name.
Started: 081017
Finished: 081017