(fic) tomorrow

[ddankkoma]

exo | kaisoo | romance (PG)
death is a mystery, kyungsoo is lost and jongin needs to be found.
word count: 3.7k



To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

- Shakespeare, Macbeth (Act V Scene V)

The first thing Kyungsoo registers when he wakes up is the blinding white light. The surface he’s curled up on feels hard and smooth but warm, and he hears the low and familiar drone of an engine. Slowly, slowly but surely, he pushes himself up and squints as his vision starts to clear.

He’s on a train, at least, he thinks he is.

Everything is spotless and gleaming; like fresh snow falling from the sky, but Kyungsoo doesn’t feel comforted by the immaculate whiteness of every surface his eyes fall upon. He can recognize the forms of the carriage; the handles which sway to and fro with the train’s movement, the metal frames and plastic seats and symmetrical windows. Everything is white, even the light coming in from outside, which is now softer but still glaring to his sensitive eyes.

Where am I?

As he adjusts his posture, letting his shoes meet the pale floor, he sees something move in his peripheral vision. He turns to see what it is and feels his blood run cold.

It’s a man, well at least, more like the silhouette of a man. The being seems to be translucent, and, from what Kyungsoo can make out, the man appears to be reading a newspaper.

As he looks around, too bewildered and gripped with fear to move, he realizes that there are other forms of all shapes and sizes, just as translucent, colorless and featureless as the man, all in their own places on the train. Some forms are sitting, some standing, some leaning against the doors, the edges of their faces lost in the light. It makes Kyungsoo’s stomach lurch.

He looks down at himself in a brief panic before sighing in relief. He’s not translucent. Good. But he still doesn’t know where he is, or why he’s there.

Biting his lip, Kyungsoo rises from his seat and looks down the train, into the rest of the other carriages. The forms are scattered here and there, slowly becoming dots towards the end. He looks behind him but the beings in the carriage seem to be lost in their own world, so he takes a deep breath and starts moving forward, holding the poles for support as he makes his way forward.

Down, down, down the train he walks, but the carriages seem endless. Whenever he tries to look out the window for some sign of where he is, he is greeted with the harsh fluorescent that seems to light up the train, and it only causes more dots in his sight. He’s long lost track of how many carriages he’s walked through when he notices a solid form in the distance.

As he steps closer, he feels his stomach lurch.

It’s Jongin, seated on a chair, hands in his pockets, eyes closed and head resting against the walls of the carriage.

Jongin, who had disappeared five years ago on a cloudy Saturday afternoon, who had the habit of drowning his food in ketchup, who was always more bad news than good news, who was just a young, foolish kid.

Kyungsoo reacts instinctively and turns around, but the squeak of his sneakers is surprisingly loud against the floor, and he knows Jongin has noticed his presence.

“Kyungsoo...?”

His fingers grip the metal until his knuckles turn pale. He hasn’t heard his name being spoken like that in a while. The way Jongin says it makes him feel like he’s just taken a bullet to save a stranger’s life; a bittersweetness weighed down with too many thoughts and words left unspoken, an uncomfortable burning sensation that makes him feel dizzy.

“Kyungsoo?”

Jongin sounds more sure, now.

Kyungsoo turns around, still keeping a tight grip on the pole, but more so to keep himself standing upright as he feels his legs turning into jelly. Jongin is standing now and Kyungsoo has to force himself to not look into the dark eyes that he so frequently lost himself in.

“They can see you, you know.”

Kyungsoo turns to look at Jongin who hasn’t looked up to speak to him.

“I wasn’t staring...” Kyungsoo blushes despite the tension that is still evident between them. He had spent the last few minutes of their silence watching the other commuters, wondering whether he would be able to make out their features if he squinted hard enough.

“They see you as you see them; apparitions,” Jongin explains and Kyungsoo looks away before their eyes can meet. He wonders if Jongin notices.

“What is this place?” Why are you here with me?

“Limbo,” Jongin replies plainly.

“I’m...dead?” Kyungsoo’s eyes widen and he looks at Jongin, who only lets out a soft, sad laugh. The butterflies in his stomach worsen.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“You...guess?”

“Is the opposite of being dead being ‘alive’?”

“Isn’t it?”

“In a practical sense I guess. But I’ve always thought it was ‘living’.”

“There’s a difference?” Kyungsoo asks as he brings a hand up to his chest, over his heart.

Jongin scoffs a little from his place beside him. “Don’t bother with that. A heartbeat isn’t an indication that you’re living.”

“What’s it an indication of, then?”

“You’re still alive, probably,” Jongin shrugs.

“D-do you...do you have a heartbeat?”

At this, Jongin’s expression softens and he takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his, slightly rough but warm, and places Kyungsoo’s hand over where his heart should be. Kyungsoo doesn’t feel anything and he bites his lip, trying his best not to look too shocked. Jongin drops his hand and looks away.

“S-so...you’re really gone, then?”

“Been gone for a while. Five years, to be exact.”

Their eyes meet and Kyungsoo feels the ache in his chest, a reminder that when they were alive, Jongin had made a place in his heart and then left, and that no one else had been able to fill it up again.

“You don’t remember?”

“I don’t think anyone here does,” he says as he gestures to the other commuters.

“S-so...are we going to Heaven, then?”

Jongin chuckles softly, a sad sound that causes the dull pain again, and closes his eyes, leaning back until his head is resting on the back of the cold plastic seat.

Kyungsoo listens to the soft hum of the train.

He’s dead. He’s dead.

Who knows that he’s dead?

Do they miss him?

Does he want them to miss him?

”Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached the third station of this cycle. Please exit in an orderly fashion and have a nice day.”

A voice rings through the train, clear and friendly. The train slows before stopping altogether and Kyungsoo looks around as the doors open with a swoosh. He starts to panic.

“Don’t. It’s not our stop,” Jongin speaks but his eyes are still shut.

“How do you know?” Our stop?

“I just do,” Jongin shrugs. “I don’t know how but...I’ve always known.”

“Oh...okay.” Kyungsoo sits back a little more as the doors close and the train moves again.

“Jongin...?”

“Hmm?”

“So you’ve been here...all this while?” Kyungsoo asks as he stares at the ceiling.

“Yeah. Yeah, I have.”

“Oh...isn’t it boring?” Did you miss me?

“Sometimes. But I get to sleep a lot, so I can’t complain.”

“Oh, okay.” I missed you.

“Do you think you’ll get off soon?” Will we leave together?

“How long has it been since you last saw me, Kyungsoo?”

“Five years.”

The smile that spreads across Jongin’s face hurts too much. It’s the smile that Kyungsoo had worn as a mask during the five years.

“I’ve been waiting for five years, Kyungsoo. I think if there was a stop for me, I would have gotten off by now.”

It’s okay, we can stay here together.

The nature of their relationship had always been a strange one. When they had met in University, Jongin was as brilliant as he was stubborn, and Kyungsoo was the type who would take down notes as if each lecture was a dictation session. They had met through a mutual friend named Baekhyun, and it had been Jongin who had proposed living together since the both of them had been searching for a roommate and an apartment. Kyungsoo had found himself falling slowly, and then all at once, as the months went by. Jongin was easy to live with and even easier to talk to, and they had grown closer and closer.

Somewhere along the lines, the tiptoeing between friendship and romance had started to develop into a vicious cycle, and then Jongin changed. Perhaps it had been gradual, but it still felt too fast for Kyungsoo, who had to force himself with being accustomed to coming home each night to find a stranger on their couch, Jongin making out with said stranger more often than not. It had hurt, it had hurt a lot, but what had hurt the most was that Kyungsoo couldn’t seem to let go, no matter how hard he tried. Sometimes the Jongin he fell in love with would reappear, like when he had gotten a fever and Jongin had stayed home, tending to his every need and even making chicken soup for him.

They were brief moments, but they were moments nevertheless, so Kyungsoo never lost hope, even if his friends thought it was foolish.

At present, Jongin is curled up on the chairs across from him and Kyungsoo thinks he looks like a child. The light streaming in from the large glass panels outside which Kyungsoo had once found harsh now accentuates Jongin’s features, outlining them with a soft glow, and Kyungsoo can’t help but find it ironic how Jongin looks so youthful and innocent in death.

He wonders if Jongin knew back then, when they were alive, that he had loved him.

Kyungsoo wanders one day to the front of the train, despite Jongin insisting that talking to the driver, who is apparently called Chanyeol, is of no use. From the window of the door to the driver’s carriage, Kyungsoo sees that Chanyeol is dressed in the kind of train driver’s uniform that he thought had been outdated decades ago; sharp dark blue blazer, complete with hat. He bites his lip and raises his hand to knock on the door.

“Come in.” Kyungsoo jumps when Chanyeol suddenly speaks. For a moment he thinks he’s imagined it since Chanyeol has not turned around, but the door seems to slide aside on it’s own like magic, and Kyungsoo decides that applying the logic of life is of no use in the spirit realm.

Chanyeol clicks a button on the panel and turns to face Kyungsoo, smiling brightly. His teeth are as white and polished as the rest of the train, Kyungsoo notes with amusement, as Chanyeol gestures to the ugly plum-colored chair next to the driver’s seat.

“You must be Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol says as Kyungsoo sits down.

“Um...yes. How did...” He looks back at the door as it slides back into place on it’s own. Chanyeol laughs.

“Magic, I suppose you could say. Jongin has told me a lot about you.”

“He...he has?” Kyungsoo feels apprehensive.

Chanyeol nods. “He adores you, quite simply put. It’s a pity he’s an idiot.” Kyungsoo stifles a laugh.

“Humans are such amusing creatures,” Chanyeol muses.

“You’re not human?”

“Oh, you can’t tell, can you?” Chanyeol grins. “I’m an Angel.”

Kyungsoo’s first reaction is to snort, but then the information seems to fit pretty well and he widens his eyes at Chanyeol, who laughs in return.

“Wow, he was right, you do have big eyes.”

Kyungsoo feels himself blush. “What else has he told you?”

“Oh, no, you’re not here to gossip. You want some answers, don’t you?”

Kyungsoo nods.

“Well, I’ll try my best, but you may not like my answers.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you see, for the most part, death is incredibly unknown and mysterious in itself. You’d think an Angel, such as myself, would understand a thing or two but nope, not in the least. I don’t even know what this switch does, or that one, or that one,” Chanyeol demonstrates as he points to various controls on the panel in front of him. Kyungsoo wonders if he should be worried.

He bites his lip, deep in thought. “Okay, well...what happens if you get off at the wrong stop?”

“Never happens, next question!”

He sighs. So much for starting on the right foot. “Right, um...do I need to know how I died?”

“It might be useful.”

“Does Jongin know how I died?”

“Not at all,” Chanyeol grins. Kyungsoo frowns.

“Well then...why do I still have a heartbeat?”

“Excellent question!” Chanyeol exclaims and Kyungsoo jumps at how loud his voice is before anticipating the reply.

“Which...um...I unfortunately don’t have the answer to.”

Kyungsoo returns to the carriage a few hours later, exhausted from the rapid-fire question and answer session with the Angel. If anything, Chanyeol has somehow managed to make him even more confused, and he sits down on the seat beside Jongin, who cracks one eye open to look at him.

“Told you, useless.”

“He tried his best,” Kyungsoo manages. Jongin smiles serenely to himself and rests his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. It’s an innocent gesture, but Kyungsoo feels his heart beat wildly. Jongin’s messy, unruly hair tickles his cheek a little and he can smell peppermint and vanilla and Jongin, Jongin, Jongin. He feels like he’s going insane.

Are you happy here, with me?

“I like it here,” Jongin says softly, tilting his head up. Kyungsoo turns too and promptly forgets how to breathe when he sees how close their lips are. He tries not to shiver as he feels Jongin’s breath on his skin.

“I like it here, too,” Kyungsoo confesses, just as quietly.

He doesn’t know who moves first, but their lips meet, fingers tangled in the other’s hair. It’s a slow kiss; patient, tender, and caring. It’s a kiss that mends, that apologizes, and in it Kyungsoo’s heart feels like it’s being destroyed and rebuilt over and over.

He wonders if he feels just as fragile in Jongin’s arms as Jongin feels in his own.

When they pull apart, Kyungsoo realizes he’s the one who’s been crying, and hurriedly wipes the tears away. Jongin looks struck with guilt and he tries to help, but Kyungsoo ends up pushing his hands away, biting back sobs.

“I...I just...” Kyungsoo tries to take deep breaths. Jongin brushes the hair on his forehead away and places a chaste kiss there, thumb brushing over it before getting up and leaving.

Kyungsoo doesn’t call him back.

“Don’t you think it’s funny how, despite the fact that we’re all dead, this train keeps on moving forward?”

Kyungsoo turns his head to look at Chanyeol. He hasn’t spoken a word about Jongin kissing him, but he figures the Angel already knows.

“When we’re human...we think death is The Stop, The End of everything. But just look at it,” Chanyeol gestures to the wide expanse ahead of them, and for the first time instead of a white wall Kyungsoo sees a white expanse, a distance far greater than any he’s seen, expanding and expanding as fast as space itself.

“You...you were human?”

Chanyeol nods solemnly.

“What happened? I-I mean, if I’m allowed to ask that.”

“I died for someone I loved,” Chanyeol smiles to himself, still looking out the window.

“Did that person...love you too?”

“I guess so,” Chanyeol shrugs. “Who’s to say what love is? I knew people who were in their late-forties and had been married three times. It wasn’t important to me, whether he loved me or not, but rather, that he knew that I loved him and would be there for him whenever he needed me. And well, here I am.”

“You weren’t sad?”

“I was sad I couldn’t protect him anymore,” Chanyeol looks at him, expression uncharacteristically unreadable. Kyungsoo bites his lip and looks out into the light beyond the glass.

“Does it ever end?”

“I don’t think so. Not visibly, anyway,” the Angel explains. “At the start of each cycle we pick people up, and by the end all of our passengers have passed through the Other Side.”

“All of them?”

Chanyeol nods. “All of them.”

“So how many stops are there in one cycle, then?”

“There’s no limit. It depends on the people and how long it takes for them to find their purpose.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen in realization. “So, you’ve been here for five years?”

“Oh believe me, I’ve had worse,” Chanyeol laughs. “We don’t get tired, so you don’t have to worry.”

“Don’t you...don’t you get lonely?”

“Not at all! There’s always people to talk to, like you, for example.” Kyungsoo thinks about how massive the train had seemed when he had first tried to walk through it, and there had been carriages in the one behind him. Of course there would be other people for Chanyeol to talk to.

“Jongin does though.”

At the mention of his name, Kyungsoo looks up and is greeted by Chanyeol’s cheshire cat grin.

“W-what?”

“You’re blushing.”

“It’s just the heat, that’s all,” Kyungsoo says a little too quickly. “Anyway, what do you mean he gets lonely?”

“I mean that he always talked about you,” Chanyeol’s expression softens and he glances back down the carriages in Jongin’s general direction. Kyungsoo follows suit but lets his gaze linger a little more. They haven’t spoken since the kiss, and Kyungsoo hasn’t seen him either.

“He’s still on the train, don’t worry.” Kyungsoo looks back at Chanyeol in surprise.

“Did you just read my mind?”

“Oops. Um, well, look at the time! You should really get going, Kyungsoo.” It’s the first time Chanyeol has actually ushered him out of the carriage.

“You’re not even wearing a watch-” Kyungsoo starts but the door slides shut before he can continue.

Kyungsoo doesn’t know if it’s luck, but he finds Jongin in the third carriage as he starts his search, fast asleep, no doubt. He takes a deep breath and sits down on a chair by Jongin’s head. The latter is sprawled out across the seats, taking up three of them.

As soon as he sits down, Jongin starts to wake up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He yawns as he sits up, stretching. The silver of skin that appears as his shirt hikes up slightly causes Kyungsoo to blush and look away.

“Kyungsoo..?” Jongin’s voice is a little hoarse and for a moment, Kyungsoo forgets what he’s supposed to say, distracted by how unfair it is that Jongin can look so good even when he’s just woken up. Jongin takes this opportunity to pout and lay back down, placing his head in Kyungsoo’s lap.

The sudden action catches Kyungsoo off-guard and he tenses, not knowing what to do. Jongin’s eyes are closed and he looks so still that Kyungsoo wonders if he’s fallen asleep again.

“You make a nice pillow,” Jongin mutters. Kyungsoo can’t help but laugh at that.

“I went to talk to Chanyeol again.”

“Did it help?”

“I think so,” Kyungsoo says, but it sounds more like it’s directed at himself. Without thinking, he bends over and kisses Jongin. It’s more certain than the first one, and even though Jongin’s eyes had been closed he doesn’t tense up when their lips meet. Kyungsoo feels as if he’s melting into Jongin.

“I love you,” is the first thing he whispers as they pull away. “I have always loved you. Everything about you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner and...and I don’t care if you don’t love me back. I just need you to know the truth. You always told me to stop pitying you but I never did. I stayed because I love you.”

It comes out in a rush, and Kyungsoo’s quite sure he says most of it with his eyes shut tight, and he prays that Jongin doesn’t miss anything because he means everything he says. He wishes that he could explain it better, somehow, but words have always failed him when emotions came into play.

“Stole my line,” Jongin murmurs, breath hot against Kyungsoo’s lips. “Stole all my lines.”

When they finally pull away, Kyungsoo’s memories flash before his eyes. It’s a strange, peculiar sensation, like a wave crashing over him, and he feels a huge weight being lifted off of him. He blinks for a moment and shakes his head slightly, dazed from the experience.

“Kyungsoo...?”

“Sorry. I don’t know, that was...weird,” Kyungsoo shrugs it off and Jongin smiles a strange, mysterious smile at him. He takes Kyungsoo’s hand and kisses his forehead again.

“I love you. I have always loved you. I never meant to hurt you I just...I didn’t think you loved me back, not that way. I didn’t think you’d want to be with someone like me. And I just..god, Kyungsoo, I’m so sorry...” Jongin lowers his head.

“I forgave you a long time ago, idiot,” Kyungsoo whispers and lets his kiss speak for itself.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached the final station of this cycle. Please proceed in an orderly fashion and have a nice day!”

===
A/N: bluh I broke my 'no writing kaisoo angst' rule but to be fair!!! this has a happy ending, so yay?
explanation:
- the train kind of serves like a kind of purgatory, a transition between life and death.
- jongin is stuck because he can't receive closure without kyungsoo, and the reason kyungsoo is on the train is because he's in a coma (thus the reason he still has a heartbeat while jongin doesn't), and also because he spent the last five years believing that jongin was still alive. when they finally admit they love each other, kyungsoo dies in the real world (thus the flashback and jongin's smile; because he understands) and the train reaches it's final station since they're the only ones left at this point.
- jongin sleeps a lot because he took too many sleeping-pills and died from the overdose (yay for fun facts)
- you should all watch spirited away because fndjsklfndjk STUDIO GHIBLI
- oh god look at this thing that lacks general structure /shuns