Chapter Text
It all seems rather pointless when you’re lying on your deathbed.
In retrospect, life seems rather funny. Circumstances and mishaps that shaped you as a person just seem silly when you look at the big picture. Life is one big comedy.
Or so they say.
The Old man refuses to agree because all those viewpoints are held by people who have one life. Those, who at the end of their life, have achieved what they wanted to. Those who have let go of any regrets. Those about to start with a clean slate in the next life, finding new experiences, new purposes.
The old man on the other hand has lived more lives than one can imagine, experienced more things this population ever has or ever will. He doesn't start with a clean slate. His purpose in all his lives has been constant. And not once in his many lives has he come close to fulfilling it. So, in retrospect, his life does seem like a tragedy for he has suffered through ages in search for his beloved.
But he must say, lying on his deathbed, that those brief meetings and fleeting moments were worth every second they were apart. That they kept him going across times and lives.
As a teenager, The old man traveled to Europe to find his beloved, believing the Clock tower would guide him to him. But alas, his quest was unsuccessful. He doesn't think his life is pointless, but he must admit that he is growing impatient. How long must they be apart? Despite the modern advancements shrinking the world, this life of his has earned him no fruits for he has not yet encountered his beloved. He doesn't think he will anymore.
He’s led a lonely life this time around. Even on his deathbed, he is alone.
“Harabeoji, it is time for your medicine,” the nurse calls and The old man slowly turns his wrinkly face in her direction, noting the glee in her movements and a hint of smile on her lips.
Once The old man takes his medicine, he speaks up, “You seem rather happy today, Hana-yah,”
Hana smiles, “Ah, does it show?” she giggles, “the man I like asked to marry me yesterday,” she confesses, “I’m very happy. He is my soulmate!”
The old man’s smile falters and he looks away. Perhaps it's the age that makes him bitter.
“How wonderful must that be,” he hums and Hana chuckles, patting his chest, “you should sleep, Harabeoji,”
And with that, Hana walks out of his room, allowing The old man to gather his thoughts.
How frivolously people use that term.
Soulmate.
The old man sighs and sits up, groaning as his stiff body refuses to cooperate. If he had it in him, he would continue to search the corners of this world for his beloved. He leans heavily on his cane, crouching over it as he walks out of his room to take a look around.
He could use some fresh air.
He staggers down the hallway, following the passageways that lead to the garden. But as he comes across the Hospital nursery, he pauses. His eyes widen and he stumbles, dropping his cane and steadying himself with shaky arms against the nursery window, peering in at the newborns lined up in their respective cribs.
One child, wrapped in a space-themed blanket, catches The old man’s eyes, making his heart twist painfully. Tears pour from his eyes as his soul recognises his other half, sleeping soundly in the crib. The old man’s eyes travel down to the sign by the baby’s feet.
Wonwoo
The old man is brought down to his knees, overwhelmed by emotion. Wonwoo. His beloved’s name is Wonwoo.
It's time. It's finally time for them to not just meet but to be.
“I’ll follow you soon,” the old man says – no – promises as the nurses rush over to him, “Harabeoji! Are you okay?! Get me a stretcher!” she yells.
As Hana tries to hold him up, the old man simply smiles, finally letting go now that he’s seen his stardust. His heart races, perhaps too fast and he feels dizzy.
As his vision blurs and deafening silence fills his ears, he is left with a smile on his face.
Perhaps, this whole time, he was holding onto life just to get a glimpse of his soulmate.
And now that he has, he can finally move onto the next one.
His purpose?
To find Wonwoo.
–---
“I’ve prayed for times like this,” Eomma says as she combs Mingyu’s hair, making the teen roll his eyes at her, “you don't have to be so dramatic,” he groans as they walk into the rather dilapidated building together.
“Isn't this place sketchy? What if it's a kidnapping racket?” MIngyu asks as they take the stairs down.
“It is not,” Eomma reassures, “Don't make excuses. I hope this will set you on the right path in life. I’m tired of you causing trouble, Mingyu-yah. It’s time you work hard to achieve something in life,”
“Why do you act like I go around beating up other kids?!” he questions and she pinches his arm, “you may not beat up kids but you bunk classes and come home late. What do you keep doing all day, hm? Where do you keep going?”
“That’s because I have to find–” he bites back his words. His Mother cannot know. Thankfully, she doesn't question him once they reach a door. The soft hum of music and voices diffuse over to them from across the door and Eomma sighs, taking his hands, “promise me you'll be good,” she says.
MIngyu exhales. He leans down to kiss her forehead, “Don't worry, Eomma,” he says. She smiles at him with teary eyes. But she holds those tears and kisses Mingyu’s cheeks, “go on in. All the best, sweetheart,” she says.
MIngyu nods and takes a deep breath. He shakes off the nervousness and opens the door, almost blinded by the green walls and bright lights. He looks back at his Mother one last time before walking in, deciding to face his fear once and for all. He was casted on the street. They must see potential. Mingyu should give it a fair shot.
His heart races as he takes a look at all the boys and girls here, some dancing, others singing and the rest littered around the hall. When the man who casted him notices him, he welcomes him warmly and takes him to the center of the hall, “Everyone, gather here,” the man yells. All the trainees promptly scurry over and Mingyu thinks he wants to hide in a hole from the intensity of their curious gazes. But his eyes land on a lanky figure tucked behind the shorter boys, and his world stops.
As the man introduces him as Mingyu to everyone, the latter tunes out of the conversation as his eyes meet the boy’s. His heart thumps in his chest, and his hands are sweaty all of a sudden. His throat feels dry and he thinks he could puke at the surge of energy coursing through him.
This feeling…he knows all too well.
“Since we’re done for the day, you guys can talk to Mingyu tomorrow. Good job today everyone! Tomorrow, assemble by 7 a.m sharp, alright? You can go home now!” the man says and walks away, and so do the tired trainees who save greeting Mingyu for tomorrow. But two boys remain, facing each other, frozen like statues.
For the longest time, the two remain speechless, simply staring at each other, a million thoughts coursing through their minds. A meeting written in the stars, a union they've longed for, yet neither know what to say now that it has arrived.
‘Say something, anything..’ Mingyu thinks to himself, eyes raking in the boy’s appearance. Alas, all Mingyu remembers of this face are the tears trickling down its cheeks. This life, he vows, is going to be different.
Mingyu musters up the courage and walks over to the boy – to Wonwoo, “Hyung, do you want to eat with me?” he asks, holding back tears as he extends his hand.
Wonwoo stares at his hand with sparkly eyes, his lips quivering. After recovering from the shock, he takes Mingyu’s hand with a smile on his face, “Ah, I’m the Hyung?” he asks and Mingyu chuckles.
He squeezes Wonwoo’s hand, quickly wiping away a tear that escapes his eye.
“I found you,” he whispers and Wonwoo grins, his body trembling. He steps closer to Mingyu, lowering his gaze, “You did, my stardust,”
Those words force a tear out of Mingyu’s eyes and he pulls the shorter man into a tight hug. He hopes this hug conveys the million things he has to say to Wonwoo, things he’s prepared over ages to say when they finally meet, but is unable to now that it has become a reality.
Wonwoo reciprocates the hug and chuckles, patting Mingyu’s back to comfort him.
“Do you two know each other?” a boy asks, a lot shorter than the rest. MIngyu and Wonwoo pull away but refuse to let go of each other’s hands.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo says, wiping his tears, “from a long time ago,”
The shorter man frowns, “why are you crying?”
Mingyu smiles, glancing at Wonwoo, “we lost each other for a while,”
Wonwoo giggles, shaking his head, “Its okay now that we’ve found each other,”
The shorter man, unaware of their journey across time, simply hums and backs out of the conversation, “Well, don't lose each other again, haha,” he chuckles and walks away, leaving Mingyu and Wonwoo alone.
“I wont lose you this time,” Wonwoo says. Mingyu smiles, his heart content and his purpose fulfilled.
“Even if you do, I will come looking for you,” Mingyu reassures. Tears trickle out of Wonwoo’s eyes and he pulls Mingyu in for a tight hug. Mingyu grins.
If he could do it all over again, he would, as long as the light at the end of the tunnel leads him to Wonwoo.