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Chapter Text

xviii. TAEIL

“There’s still something I don’t get,” Taeil wondered, his arms crossed over his chest as he observed the quiet city stretching in front of his eyes. The wind rang in his ears, disheveling his hair, stroking his cheeks under the bright sky. Soon today’s assigned Keeper would change the days into nights, skipping over the favourite part of Taeil’s day: the sunset. He would have to grow used to it, he kept repeating to himself every time he watched the cloth’s turning, darkening the horizon in the blink of an eye. “How come are we so dissatisfied with utopia?” He asked, turning his head towards Hansol, his shades on, sunbathing on one of the plastic chairs they had brought over.

Hansol furrowed his eyebrows, letting the sunglasses fall down the bridge of his nose. “This place is utopia to you?” He questioned, the corners of his lips tugging down on his smile, faltering at Taeil’s statement. “Your dream world looks like an old medieval city with a broken fountain surrounded by every existing climate on Earth, minus the animals? That’s your perfect city? The emptiest place ever created?” Hansol pointed out, pushing his shades back up with a sly grin. “If this were utopia, you would be home with Jisung right now. Not speaking nonsense on a rooftop with me.”

Taeil grimaced at the comparison. The Jisung card was a sensitive one, but Hansol had never been one to handle touchy subjects with discretion. “Didn’t have to rub salt in that wound, but I get where you’re coming from,” Taeil acknowledged, huffing in annoyance. “Are you at least going to pretend to be sorry?” He requested, knowing full well the other would deny, but teasing him anyway.

“You know that’s not how I roll, Taeil-ah,” Hansol objected, shifting in his chair in search of a comfier position, squeaky noises disrupting the silence of the city. “But I’ll keep wishing things get better for you, promise.”

An odd thing to share in a casual conversation, Taeil thought. “You’re talking as if you’re not going to be here anymore,” he remarked, suspicions growing as the other kept his mouth shut at the observation. Now couldn’t be the time, could it? “Hansol?”

“Taeil,” he replied, removing his sunglasses, fingers tapping on the mantles. “These people are getting too comfortable. Are we the only ones able to see Neo as it is? Taeyong told me the other day this felt like paradise. He has one friend, which is me, and no hobbies. Paradise, really? And that’s one person out of seventeen. How is anyone comfortable like this?” Hansol ranted, his hands ever so expressive as he spoke. Then, a sigh escaped his lips, his eyes on Taeil. “Even you think this is supposed to be the ideal world.”

Taeil knew something like this would happen, but not so soon. Someone was bound to get tired of the Neo lifestyle and leave for good – not in the whiny Jaehyun way, pretending to hate the city while never acting up on it. No, it would be someone determined, someone with nothing to lose. But why did it have to be him, of all people? “You can’t just leave, Hansol.”

Not many people had tried approaching Taeil, when the locals had been introduced to Neo. In fact, no one at all, except for Hansol, who had made it his duty to check up on the eldest once in a while. Why, Taeil had never known, but there had been a comfort to Hansol he must have missed more than he cared to admit, for he poured out all his insecurities on him, one night. Jisung, their early arrival, his role in Neo’s survival, the first foreigner’s fate, the dreadful future looming over them, he had told Hansol everything. Ever since, Taeil’s admiration of him had grown more and more, up to the point he couldn’t imagine being in Neo without him.

And now he wanted to go. “They need a disturbance, something to shake them up, open their eyes to the reality of this place,” Hansol argued, speaking from the heart. “This can’t be paradise. I won’t let Taeyong or the others become delusional when there is so much more out there, waiting for them to step into the right direction.”

Taeyong. Hansol must not have known about the ball of rage tucked next to his heart, and the consequences this proximity might involve. “So you’re going to leave him, instead?” Taeil accused; it was his job to look out for everyone, even those he had never exchanged a word with. “No friends, no hobbies? You know he loves you, right?”

It was written all over his face; Hansol knew. He knew, and he didn’t feel the same way. Big bold letters carved into his skin, leaving Taeil to wonder if he were leaving with heroism in mind rather than slip past a problem he didn’t want to face, willing to escape the inescapable to keep his feelings hidden from someone who deserved to know the truth.

Hansol sighed, looking away. “Can I trust you to find him someone? Someone who will care,” he asked as the Moon took place in the sky. Soon, the Sun would say his goodbyes as he would be put to sleep until the next morning, the colours of the sunset thrown away as well. “And… can I trust you to help me out?”

Curse his defenses from forbidding him to make a decision for himself. Others had to come first. And if what they wanted was to leave, no matter how much Taeil would rather they stay, he had to oblige. The greater good might depend on it. “Only if you can prove you’ll be safe,” he bargained, trying to keep a straight face, hide the displeasure he held inside. Hide the sadness he could already feel seeping through his veins.

Hansol got up from his chair, a smile on his face. “If that’s all it takes, consider it done,” he agreed in no time, having predicted Taeil wouldn’t let him go so easily and cooked up a plan in advance. “I’ll send you the biggest disturbance I can find. Neo will probably try to get me back in once I leave, knowing how clingy this place is; it shouldn’t be so hard to slip someone else through the door instead. Someone Neo won’t have control over, ever. Then, you’ll know I made it.”

“And what if you don’t make it past the doorway?” His plan was risky in so many aspects. He had to leave, first, and then again, what if this exit was more of a death trap, swallowing the souls of anyone who crossed it? Then came the question, could it be possible he forget Neo once on the other side? All but Taeil had forgotten their past lives as they first went through; the same phenomenon might happen in reverse. Hansol could forget all about the proof to send him. Forget all about Taeil.

“Then… it will have been my decision, and I’ll suffer the consequences,” Hansol accepted his fate, looking over at his friend as he shifter closer towards him. “Please, Taeil,” he demanded, his tone soft, voice sweet as always. “I know you want to help them out, too. They need to know there’s a way out. This is the only way they’ll listen. Trust me.”

Taeil sighed. The man had already made up his mind; nothing he could say would change the outcome. “There are other ways, Hansol. You just don’t want to search any further.” As he spoke, the Sun was ripped away from the sky’s fabric, plunging the city into darkness. Convenient, this shadow over Taeil’s heart. “But if you’re dead set on leaving… I know someone who can help.”

} {

“You,” Jaehyun spat, his head slowly turning towards Renjun, the boy still unsure of what had been asked of him. Fear sparked up in the younger’s eyes as the older marched his way, his steps growing faster along with the anger possessing him. Menacing enough for Taeil to feel the terror engulfing Renjun in the way his breath got stuck in his throat, dreading to hear what Jaehyun had to say next. “You were the one who knew all this time, motherfucker?”

“Jaehyun!” Doyoung shouted, hoping to catch his attention and stop him from walking any closer to the boy, in vain. Jaehyun was furious, fire in his eyes, his hands balling to fists as he glared at the boy who had thrown wrenches in his plans for years. All could tell what was about to happen; why weren’t any of them moving?

At last someone unfroze, running off from their spot and stepping in front of Renjun, shielding him with their body. If anyone could take on Jaehyun, it was him, Yukhei, his height granting him a slight advantage, as well as the fact he had, for one, nothing to lose, and two, boiling anger he hadn’t been able to release in ages, powerful enough to rival the older’s own. Jaehyun stopped dead in his tracks, clenching his jaw at the sight of the younger standing between him and his prey. A glimpse of betrayal flew across Jaehyun’s eyes, disappearing quickly, but never fast enough to slip past Taeil. Taeil never missed a thing.

“I’d rethink that move if I were you,” Yukhei warned, his eyes throwing daggers at Jaehyun, ready to strike if the older took a step forward. Yukhei must have cared a lot more about his group of Kunbelievers than he showed, stepping into defense mode for one of them without a single doubt. Hansol had chosen his disturbance better than Taeil thought.

Taking advantage of the twist of events, Doyoung walked over and grabbed Jaehyun by the sleeve, leading him the furthest he could from the younger boys, rows of insults coming out of his mouth. If there was one thing Doyoung loved more than Jaehyun, it was the kids; put the two against each other, even Taeil couldn’t tell who would win.

As Yukhei turned around to ask Renjun if he were okay, Taeyong stepped forward to speak up, this time directed to Taeil. “You said this was the last time anyone would ask for the exit,” he recalled the eldest’s statement from before the simili-fight had erupted. Kun frowned at Taeyong’s words, soon replaced by sorrowful realisation. “Who… asked him the first time?” Taeyong said, his eyes shifting Renjun’s way, the poor boy inaudibly thanking his saviour, teary eyed.

“Don’t blame the kid,” Taeil interjected, grabbing Taeyong’s attention back. He took a deep breath. “It was me. I asked him to leave. Renjun had nothing to do with it,” he assured, still dead set on covering up Hansol’s image. He had once thought it would be better for Taeyong to know the truth; the more time passed, the less Taeil was convinced of it, carrying his friend’s secret to the tomb if he had to.

Taeyong’s face turned sour for a second, another crisis in the making, but to Taeil’s surprise, he swallowed down the bitterness, nodding and returning to his previous spot next to Kun. That was it? He had accepted it almost right away? Wow. Something in Taeyong had changed for the better. Or maybe he had grown out of love. Either way, Taeil had Kun to thank. Someone who cared.

Now that all red flags had been taken care of, Taeil could finally get down to business. He felt bad approaching Renjun after the backlash he had received, but there were no other ways around it. Taeil only knew the fact Renjun knew; had he known where in Neo the exit was situated, he would have lead them over that spot a long time ago.

Yukhei stepped back as he saw Taeil approaching, a frown growing on Renjun’s face. Of course the younger would be distrustful; he must have thought only Hansol had known, and with his departure, safe would be his secret. Yet here Taeil was, knocking at his door with no intent on leaving before he had gotten what he wanted. “Would you do this for us, Renjun?” Taeil asked, looking into the younger’s eyes; it would help him figure out his intentions.

“I—” Renjun stuttered, the simple word giving Taeil all the information he needed. The reticence to speak, barely protecting himself from Jaehyun’s impending attack that could have injured him, hiding behind the crowd to avoid being called on: he didn’t want any part of this. He didn’t want to tell what he knew, and he didn’t want to leave either. Taeil had always been able to read people from their voices, figure out exactly what they needed with a few words. And what Renjun needed, was for someone to understand. “I don’t feel I have the choice,” he let out, his eyes trailing over to Sicheng and Yuta, in the same position they had been in for what could be at least an hour now – hard to tell, when Neo didn’t possess the ability to perceive time.

“Makes two of us,” Taeil whispered for Renjun’s ears only, a solemn fact no one would be able to understand anyway. Except maybe Jisung, but that road lead to a dead end; he wasn’t welcomed over there anymore. He wasn’t welcomed anywhere. Taeil had no one.

But he could tell Renjun felt the same, and the right words exchanged in loneliness might be exactly what they needed. “There’s a river,” Renjun started, his voice unsure if he should say anything more, but Taeil’s eyes were magnetic, pulling the truth out of him. “All bodies of water bring back to the city, except for one. Follow it, and you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

Intricate landscape design no one but Renjun had explored to its fullest potential. If anything, Neo itself must have shown him the way, as a thank you for appreciating its beauty when all the rest of them could do was complain. “Could you lead us, Renjun?” Taeil requested, hoping the boy would put aside his personal feelings for the common good. For Yuta, at least. “We can’t afford to lose anymore time, and you’re the expert here. It would be a great help,” he sugarcoated, emphasis on the ‘losing time’ part in hopes the younger would make up his mind a little quicker.

What a twisted joke of fate to give the way out to the only one who would prefer staying. Although still reluctant, Renjun nodded, walking away to stand in front of the alleyway leading to said river. Without the need for further instructions, the younger boys gathered around Renjun, whispering in hushed tones, concerned for their friend. Meanwhile, the older citizens stood still in their respective spots, murmuring amongst themselves, and Taeil rolled his eyes at their slow behaviour; would he have to herd them like sheep, telling them what to do at all times?

“What are you all waiting for? Get moving,” Taeil instructed, pointing towards Renjun and the boys moving down the alley. The bite in his voice seemed to snap the citizens out of it, scrambling off to join the group at last. The sky kept darkening every minute, and thunder would likely break out soon, if not accompanied by rain. It would only make things more difficult – Neo’s intended purpose, if Taeil were to guess.

City almost cleared out of its inhabitants, he turned around to see Sicheng putting his arms under Yuta’s body, prepared to carry him all the way over to the exit. Taeil ran up to the pair; he could render himself useful for the walk and offer some assistance. “Here, I’ll help you carry him—”

“I said don’t touch him.” Sicheng’s voice bounced off the walls, less powerful than before, but just as gripping, his low tone giving Taeil chills. He should have expected Sicheng to never forgive him for fake flirting with Yuta, even if it had been with purpose. Not to forget the fact Sicheng carried his friend home at least once a week from the fatigue caused by changing the days into nights; he would have been fine without anyone’s help anyway, and could probably rip Taeil’s tongue out if he wanted. “I’ll be fine on my own, thank you very much,” Sicheng declined through gritted teeth, walking away.

Taeil should have been able to join the rest of the citizens now, but from the corner of his eye he noticed one last member refraining from following the troupe, biting down his lip as he fiddled with his hands. He had expected Johnny to be against the idea – the one who had spent his entire stay fighting for unity between the city and its people – but now that the man had been emotionally worn down by earlier circumstances, the time couldn’t have fallen any better.

Taeil walked up to him, his mind bubbling up with backup plans in case his initial approach failed to work. “Johnny. We have to go,” he set the scene, clear and to-the-point. They had no time to waste; how many more times would he have to remind them?

“I can’t,” Johnny refused, looking behind him every few seconds. These few words were enough information for Taeil to register what had happened to shake him up this bad, an adapted strategy presenting itself to the older man. “I have to wait for Ten. I’m not leaving without him.”

Taeil had been so focused on Renjun, he hadn’t realised Ten’s absence from the crowd. But Taeil was an expert at reading between the lines, and with the backstory Johnny had subconsciously given him, there was no need to worry; what Ten had set out to do had to be done, for Johnny’s sake. And if Ten had figured it all out without anyone’s help, he sure would be smart enough to join them in time.

“Ten is a grown man with plenty of resources. He’ll find his way, trust me,” Taeil assured the man, putting a hand over his shoulder. Johnny had made mistakes during his course, but he had always been an important pillar to the community and Taeil was grateful for him, even if his firm tone and furrowed eyes could suggest otherwise. “But now, when I say we’re going, we are going, Johnny. This isn’t an option.”

For a fraction of second, confusion etched itself on Johnny’s face. Who is this guy to give me orders? His whole body read, muttered all around him so many times Taeil couldn’t try to ignore the message, overwhelming his senses. But just when it was about to become unbearable, Johnny erased the thought from his appearance, accepting his fate and walking towards the alley the rest of them had taken without another word. Taeil followed suit.

Who was Taeil to give him orders? He would have liked to know as much.

They might have been a little late to the party, but the citizens hadn’t been hard to find in the slightest – in a city this perpetually quiet, any conversation was loud. Eight conversations at once in the same space? Quite easy to track down, even from afar in a maze of beige coloured brick walls.

Quick head count – seventeen. Eighteen would have been much more convenient, Taeil not particularly fond of the idea to let someone behind, but he could always go pick Ten back up in a hurry later if the man couldn’t find the exit by himself. Although he would, definitely. Taeil trusted his senses; there had always been a special something to Ten. Shame they had had to find out what at the last possible minute.

To be honest, there was something special in each and everyone of the citizens, Taeil thought as they reached the river. Those who had been there too long, those who belonged, those who didn’t feel they belonged, and those who were never meant to be here. All these people had their own uniqueness, their own stories seen through different lenses, and Taeil would have loved to know each and everyone of them, had the circumstances fallen a little differently.

His life in the shadow hadn’t been the easiest. Always knowing which move would lead into which direction, and acting accordingly to support everyone’s best interests. It had kept him apart from the people, cursed by the never ending wheel of choices he was presented at any moment. But now that they were marching together, now that they were running away from the place that had messed up each and everyone of them in different ways, he didn’t have to stay in the dark. Now were his last chances to do what he had never been able to do; listen and talk.

Walking up to the front of the line, he could hear small tidbits of conversations between the citizens as they walked alongside the river behind him. Some more mundane, like a whining Donghyuck to Mark, “I can’t believe I took all this time to remake your entire house and we only got to use it once!”, followed by a laugh, dripping in fondness. Some a little heavier, too.

“Did you know that he’d leave?” Taeyong asked from behind him, the question directed to the man walking by his side.

Taeil was reminded of an evening, in City Hall. An adjourned Council meeting, Taeil taking his sweet time to leave, his eyes settling on Taeyong turning around in his chair, also about to leave. Make him wait a couple more minutes, instincts whispered. Remind him how alone he is. Remind him how much he wants a friend.

“I didn’t, no,” Kun answered with a small sigh, tone raised. As if he already knew the question that would follow, mentally preparing for an explanation he could give him without hurting his friend’s feelings. A landmine field of emotions; that’s what each of them were stepping into, reaching for the exit. For the end.

“Did you know we would end up here?” Taeyong continued, his tone softening. Every question he would ask would lead him towards answers, inevitably. Some of those, he might not have ever wanted to know in the first place.

Kun stayed silent for a while, his lack of words louder than anything he could have said. “I did, yes.”

Taeil had been a little too late, if he were honest. Hansol had asked him to find Taeyong someone to help cope with his disappearance, but Taeil’s world had been twisted upside down so quickly by the same event, he had forgotten his main purpose for an instant. And before he knew it, an instant stretched into weeks, then months. In a way, he had failed both Hansol and Taeyong, on this one. He should have gotten him a friend sooner; maybe then, all this suspicion on his side – double-checking to be sure he wasn’t being pranked, he wasn’t being pitied, he truly had a friend – would have been spared.

Or perhaps he would have been just as vibrant with anger, and no one would have been able to help, no matter how kind they could have been. They would never know. “How come you would know one, and not the other?” Taeyong kept going, giving Kun all the opportunities he could to prove they were on the same side.

Taeil threw a glance behind his back. Kun was looking down as they walked, while Taeyong’s eyes were fixed on his friend, expectant, a hopefulness mixed in melancholy. “I only see what I’m asked to see,” Kun spoke up, kicking a rock on his path. It reached the water, the splash sound it produced drowned by his words. “Hansol never asked to know how he would go about leaving, so I couldn’t tell. I would have done something, had I known. He was my friend too,” he reminded, finally looking up to Taeyong.

Taeil whisked his gaze away; he didn’t want to intrude on their moment, no matter how much of it he was already listening to. “Yukhei asked, though,” he heard Kun continue. “He asked about himself, his future, and so I saw this moment. The end,” he paused, taking a deep breath, his intentions all laid out in the open for Taeil to read. To tell the truth, or to keep the last part to himself? They said. “But I saw more than I was asked to, I suppose, because I could see you there. With me,” Kun opted on telling, a smile at the memory audible in his voice. “That’s how I knew I had to find you.”

Taeyong, however, wasn’t as pleased. “So… it was never really spontaneous, this friendship,” he deadpanned, small bits of faith leaving him with each exhale.

“Maybe not.” The accusation didn’t seem to phase Kun, the smile in his voice never leaving its place. He had something else up his sleeve; never underestimate the magic Kun possessed. “Or maybe… I was waiting for the right excuse.”

Taeil looked back to see Kun linking his pinkie to Taeyong’s, a blush creeping up the latter’s face. In the end, he had failed neither Hansol nor Taeyong. He had been a little late to deliver the final product, but Taeil was a man of his word. There was someone for Taeyong, and they had found each other at the right time.

He had been so engrossed in their little exchange – anything about Hansol, he was unable to tear himself away from – he hadn’t even noticed Renjun sneaking up to him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. The boy was sure great at moving around without a sound; he had years of practice through his veins.

“Can I ask you something?” Renjun asked in a frail voice, his wide eyes betraying the hint of fear he had been carrying since the morning. Taeil would have hugged him, had they talked to each other more than once during their entire stay.

“Of course. Anything you need,” Taeil settled with. If he couldn’t offer kindness to the level he wanted, he’d have to start softer. Bring comfort within his words rather than actions.

Renjun looked down, fiddling with his fingers. The gesture made Taeil notice Renjun had bit his nails up to the skin, damaged and unnatural. The kid must have been feeling more anxious than Taeil had thought. “What… what are you, Taeil?” Renjun muttered, the words ringing inside his mind clear as day. (Well, not this day; the sky had gotten even more covered since they had joined the river.)

Taeil had wondered the same thing, too. While patting Jisung’s hair after a nightmare. Walking on top of the Neo City Grand Mall’s rooftop alone. Or accompanied. Then alone again. He had had plenty of time to wonder, yet he had found no definite answer to that question. But he did have one idea. “I like to think I’m a failsafe,” Taeil confided, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “In case things go wrong, and Neo loses control of itself, there will always be someone on the inside to figure things out. Call the shots when there’s a problem,” he detailed, as thorough as he could, although lacking. If only there had come an instruction manual with his arrival, he could have understood better.

“Sort of a ground control,” Renjun let out, pensive. Taeil nodded, the description scarily accurate; that boy was much smarter than he had previously thought, to synthesize Taeil’s greatest mystery in two simple words. “Can you answer me this, then?” He added, and Taeil already knew what Renjun wanted to ask before he could open his mouth again. Taeil should have seen it coming much earlier. “Why… why did I start getting my memories back?”

There it was again: the fear in his eyes, stronger this time. It had been eating at him, it was evident now. How come Renjun hadn’t told a friend? What had stopped him from seeking help? “I thought they were gone,” Renjun mumbled. “Then, I had snippets come to mind. And when I picked up drawing again…”

The boy’s voice faded, exhausted from remembering, waiting for Taeil to explain. Hopefully, the older did have some sort of theory. If it were true or not wouldn’t matter, as long as Renjun could find the peace of mind he needed. “When you found the exit the first time, did you interact with it?” He asked the younger, hoping to be right.

“Hard not to,” the younger boy replied, shrugging. Although it had been the answer he needed, Taeil frowned at his way of putting it, wondering what piece of information he was missing. “You’ll see what I mean when we get there. But yeah, I touched it,” Renjun clarified with a nod. Taeil was growing curious to see that exit now. But first, he had to tie all loose ends.

“My guess is, Neo thought you left, when you touched that thing,” Taeil suggested. He were lucky Neo was so strange, or else his theory would have seemed rather farfetched. “It erased you from its data and stopped caring for you. Keeping your memories away was pointless, since you weren’t there anyway. And when your brain was stimulated into remembering, no one could stop you from opening that door,” he explained, the boy’s eyes widening as Taeil spoke.

Renjun was about to say something more, but when Jaehyun called out Doyoung’s name from behind, his expression turned cold. Tense, gritting his teeth, rolling his eyes at the mere sound. Taeil was aware of the rivalry between the two, but he had never thought it affected the kid to this extent.

“We’re close,” Renjun snapped, looking directly in front of him. They had reached the edge of the forest, the clouds darkening every minute, a perfect reflection of the younger’s mood.

There would be no point in trying to talk to this closed-off version of Renjun anymore, Taeil thought. Or even stay by his side in silence; if he knew one thing about teenagers, it was they’d rather be left alone for eternity than have one adult sneak up in their business once. “I’ll go check if everyone’s ready,” Taeil bid him goodbye, slowing down his pace, letting the others pass in front of him.

He reached the end of the line in no time, another quick head count as he travelled to the back. Seventeen again. As good as it could get. Johnny still looked pissed, in front of him at the back of the group, arms crossed over his chest, rolling his eyes at the antics of the two people bickering loudly in front of him. Loud enough Taeil had been able to hear even when he had been the furthest possible from them.

“Doyoungie. Dodo. Do, are you going to keep ignoring me forever?” Jaehyun whined, or stepped in front of said man, or rested his head on his shoulder as they were walking, or whisper-screamed into his ears, all four in a sequence of Doyoung’s name being repeated countless times. In short, the best way to annoy any living soul. “Hey, Doyoung. Let’s get married.”

That was the last straw for Doyoung, whose eyes grew exponentially, his mouth opening in shock as he swatted away Jaehyun’s arm from his back hard enough for him to wince. “Are you insane?” Doyoung yelled, gaining the attention of a few curious citizens along the way. “After you almost decked Renjun out of this world? Not a single chance.”

So the children had won. Good for them; Taeil felt no pity towards Jaehyun. Had the guy attempted his little stunt on Jisung, Taeil would not have hesitated to dislocate his jaw. “Okay, I’ll admit, I was a bit erratic, and I shouldn’t have done that. It’s just… you know how long I’ve waited for this,” Jaehyun justified, both Doyoung and him rolling their eyes while Johnny quickened his pace, walking away from his bullshit. “Seriously,” his tone deepened, placing his hand on Doyoung’s shoulder, who pushed it away. “I know I did wrong. I got caught up in my emotions, and it wasn’t right of me to let it take over. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to,” Doyoung snarled, bitter and cutting. Then, he scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes squinted shut. “Marriage. Have you lost your mind?”

Jaehyun scratched the back of his neck, a nervous laughter coming out of his mouth. “I didn’t mean now. I meant when we get to the other side,” he rectified, trying to ease off the shock Doyoung had experienced.

But Doyoung just scoffed. “Oh, because you think this is all going to be easy peasy over there?” He said, incredulous. Jaehyun frowned, feeling a bit out of the loop, causing his boyfriend to sigh. “Don’t you think this place would have one last surprise for all of us? The foreigners don’t come from the same location, or else they would have recognised each other. They don’t speak the same as us, or as each other. If we all came from different places, what’s to say we won’t end up apart, at the ends of the world?” Doyoung reasoned, proving their couple wasn’t as brainless as Taeil had imagined.

Taeil had imagined the same theory, too. This exit wasn’t an entry point; there was no entrance to Neo. You got in through the woods, by the dunes, across the gray area, swimming in the sea, but there was no door. No fixed point in space. What they were calling the exit couldn’t be a door, for it would ruin the intricate design Neo had perfectionned through the years. What they were walking towards had to be more of a portal than anything. And if they were dealing with an unstable concept such as this, they couldn’t assume they’d all end up together.

An intricately flawed design. It was a wonder Neo hadn’t fallen sooner. “Can’t hurt to dream,” Jaehyun smirked, ever so confident in himself. Taeil would never admit it, nor would he need to, but he was envious of his confidence. It was impressive, when used at full capacity. “So, you still haven’t answered,” he proved Taeil’s point, never giving up. “Yes, or…”

Doyoung huffed, a frown carving his face in anger. “If we do manage to find each other, and I haven’t met someone better than you by then, it would already be a miracle. The probabilities aren’t on your side, asshole,” he gritted, Jaehyun’s cockiness working on his nerves. Taeil wouldn’t be surprised to see smoke come out of his ears, at this point.

Jaehyun erupted in laughter, swinging an arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders, who didn’t push him away this time, but scrunched up his face in disgust anyway. “Don’t be a nerd, Do. We’ve been together since day one. I don’t think you’re going to give this all up so easily,” he teased, sultry voice whispering in his ear, a smile never leaving his lips as if he knew he had won, even though Doyoung’s expression was nothing but sour.

“If you manage to pull it off, considering the awful odds on your side… then yes, I agree to marry you,” Doyoung caved in, to Taeil’s surprise, crossing his arms over his chest and wriggling out of the younger’s grip. “But if you don’t apologise to Renjun right now, you can forget it.”

So he had said yes. Wasn’t Doyoung obsessed with keeping his public image as pure as possible? Why marry the absolute assholish person around? Taeil did not understand them in the slightest. Birds of a feather, he supposed. “Consider it done,” Jaehyun promised before giving a quick peck on Doyoung’s temple, pulling back with a devilish smirk on his face. “I’m going to make you regret agreeing, you know?”

Doyoung rolled his eyes yet again, unphased by the threat. “Trust me, I already do.”

They were a weird couple, their dynamic hard to follow for the average onlooker. But of all the citizens’ relationships, Taeil could bet they’d be the ones to stay the longest together. Out of love or out of spite was a different question. One Taeil didn’t want to figure out.

They had been well into the forest for a while now when the group’s pace slowed down, conversations dying into whispers until all they could hear was the sound of the wind, weak and fragile, as if it too would die down with Neo. Taeil would have suspected the wind to follow along the clouds’ tendencies and rebel out, but he should have figured the wind would always remain on their side.

“This is it,” Renjun announced, pointing somewhere Taeil couldn’t quite see from his position. Without even having to consult each other, the citizens moved around in a half-circle, making sure everyone had enough space to see, all standing at equal distance from the mystery finally catching his eye.

Now that Taeil was seeing said exit, he understood what Renjun had meant by ‘hard not to touch’. Holographic waves rippling out, floating in the air like a curtain shifting along the wind, Taeil’s hands were itching to reach out and grab whatever fabric it were made of. If it could be considered fabric in the first place; he had never seen anything like it, in or out of Neo. An iridescent glitch standing out in the middle of the forest, waiting to trap the citizens in.

As he watched the colours move in waves of depth, the same old fear grumbled in his stomach, travelling down his spine. What if they lost their memories? Not that he would miss them much, apart from Jisung. More like, what if they forgot each other? Most of them were in love. What if, say, Jaemin forgot Jeno, after all they had been through? Or worse, what if they knew crossing the threshold meant forgetting each other? Would they still be capable of leaving, when left behind were not only Neo, but all their cherished moments together?

“It should be safe of use,” Taeil spoke up, keeping his thoughts under wraps. They couldn’t know, and anyways, it was just a fear, irrational. He had proof someone had come through it and remembered. But that guy had always been a lucky one; they might not all be granted the same privilege. “Hansol went through just fine.” They didn’t need to know. They’d remember. They couldn’t know.

“How do you know it’s safe? What if it kills us?” Yukhei asked, directed at Taeil, but his eyes wouldn’t leave Jungwoo, standing across him in the semi circle they had formed. Jungwoo’s eyes wouldn’t leave Yukhei either, from the looks of it, caught up in a high tension staring contest they both refused to lose.

You are the reason I know , Taeil almost said, wanting to test out if the boy would even react to such a statement or ignore it in favour of the boy he couldn’t keep his eyes off of. “Trust me, Yukhei. You’re not dying today.” Some other unfortunate consequences they weren’t aware of could happen instead, but death wouldn’t meet any of them today.

Well, if they acted fast enough. “Should we make Yuta and Sicheng go first?” Mark suggested, voice laying his intentions clear into the darkening forest: he wasn’t ready to witness someone else die under his care. The faster Yuta would reach safety, the calmer he would be.

Taeil looked around, searching for Sicheng. The boy had taken a step behind, sitting down on the grass away from them with Yuta’s head on his lap, leaning his back on the trunk of a tree. He was stroking the unconscious man’ cheeks with the tip of his fingers, so delicately, as if he were afraid Yuta would break under his touch. But what caught Taeil’s attention the most was the immeasurable sadness in Sicheng’s eyes, big enough to engulf all of Neo in a blink.

“No,” Taeil chided. They couldn’t leave first, even if all logical arrows pointed towards them; he had to clear some things up with Sicheng, for both their sakes, and knowing these two’s history, the boy would need a lot more time to let Yuta go than others might. He wouldn’t put Sicheng through it now. “Let them say their goodbyes first.”

With his decision came the trickier part; who would volunteer to step forward into the great unknown, if not the ones who needed it most? Taeil couldn’t go yet. He had to make sure everyone would follow along, and he could only trust himself to complete the departure. It was his mission, his purpose, and he had to see it through the end. But someone still had to take the first step, if they ever wanted to find the last.

“We can go,” Kun spoke up from where he was standing, Taeyong turning to look at him with questioning eyes. Kun noticed his friend’s surprised expression, and the hint of a smile on grew on his face. “You’ve waited long enough for this. And I know we go first anyway, so…” he trailed off, stepping towards the holographic curtain, Taeyong in tow. The latter shook his head, a fond laugh escaping his lips. Should have figured , it said.

They stood in front of the exit, Taeyong staring at its ever changing colours in apprehension, Kun at the gray sky with a hand raised up. A sudden dawn of realisation flashed across Kun’s face as he let down his hand, wiping a finger over his shirt.

“It’s starting to rain,” Kun told Taeyong, their pinkies still linked, smiles on both their faces. Through his words, Taeil was granted access to their connection: Taeyong was happy to leave with Kun by his side, and Kun was happy Taeyong was doing well. They didn’t need to say anything; they had said all they needed to say, and they were ready to jump into the unknown.

“Taeyong!” A voice shouted from the bystanders. It was Jeno, waving at his brother with a smile. Taeyong waved back, his eyes sparkling at the boy. From admiration or tears, Taeil left him the benefit of the doubt.

Giving the citizens one last glance, Kun turned his head towards Taeyong, nodding as a question. Taeyong nodded back, and it was enough of an answer for Kun to step forward, his foot making the waves ripple out, the movement electric. Never letting go of Taeyong’s pinkie, he stepped inside and disappeared, Taeyong following without hesitation.

Just like that. Two gone, sixteen to go.

A flash of light in the sky took the citizens by surprise, the already tense atmosphere growing heavier as thunder stroke not so far from their position, Chenle covering his ears at the loud sound. Neo was getting angry. Now that they had set their plan in motion, they did not have a second to waste. Everyone had to leave, and quick.

“We should go too,” Jeno suggested to Jaemin, as if he had read Taeil’s mind. The two boys hadn’t let go of each other’s hands since they had all left City Center. “I don’t want you in this place any longer than we need to,” he justified, tugging the boy closer to him.

“Okay,” Jaemin agreed, letting the other bring them both forward, closer to the curtain until they were standing right next to it, the colours reflected on their faces. One more step, and they’d be gone too.

“Wait,” Jeno said, letting go of the younger boy’s hands, making the boy frown at the sudden change. At the sight of confusion on Jaemin’s face, Jeno let out a small smirk, enough for Taeil to guess where this was going. “There’s one last thing I need to do.”

And in one swift motion, Jeno cupped Jaemin’s cheeks between his hands and brought their lips together. Jaemin’s eyes widened in surprise, but he kissed him back nonetheless, letting his hands rest over Jeno’s arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world, melting into each other without a care for those around them.

But the illusion didn’t last for long, Jaemin coming back to his senses and breaking the kiss, guilt rising up at the sight of his pouting boyfriend. “Jenooo,” he whined, his cheeks heating up at an impressive rate, unable to contain his smile. Judging by his reaction, this had been the couple’s first kiss, and he might not have wanted the entire Neo City population to have front row seats to the private event. Jaemin seemed to have enjoyed it regardless. Ah, young love. “There’s people here.”

“I don’t care about anyone else,” Jeno retorted, everyone around smelling his incoming cheesy one-liner from miles away, a groan heard from where Donghyuck must have been standing. His forehead pressed to Jaemin’s, he chuckled at the sound, his eyes turning to crescents. “I only have eyes for you.”

“Argh! You’re disgusting, Lee Jeno!” Donghyuck immediately shrieked, waving his hands in the air and fake retching onto Mark’s shoes, who wolf-whistled at their public display of affection. Jeno looked their way, pulling out his tongue at them and planting another kiss on Jaemin’s lips, the latter’s eyes fluttering shut at the touch.

This time, it was Jeno’s turn to let go. “Plus, it’s kind of our brand, isn’t it?” He winked, Jaemin’s laughter a source of pure light under the dark clouds. They were cute together, it was undeniable. Taeil hoped they wouldn’t forget each other; if anyone deserved to remember, it was them. “Now we can go in peace.”

Jaemin looked at him with nothing but the purest form of love in his eyes and nodded with a smile, taking Jeno’s hand in his once again before they both stepped out of Neo, together since the very beginning, together until the very end.

Four gone. Fourteen to go.

It hadn’t been too hard, having them volunteer to leave everything and everyone they ever knew. Taeil had worried over nothing; the citizens were aware of what they had to do for everyone’s benefit, and all Taeil had done was doubt their will to protect each other. But it seemed almost too easy, in a sense. He couldn’t let down his guard for a second; especially not when the sky was turning close to black, the pace of raindrops hitting their skin quickening, with more than two thirds of the population still inside the city’s grasp.

The two boys’ departure generated another lightning strike, closely followed by a second one, thunder rumbling in the distance. With each disturbance of the equilibrium Neo had created with its required number of people, the city grew more aware of exactly what the citizens were doing, and it wasn’t happy about it. The more people would leave, the faster they’d have to act, or else they’d be stuck in a cacophony of sound and light, swallowed by darkness.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, thinking another volunteer had stepped forward to continue the process, but when he recognised the figure moving behind him as Yukhei, Taeil knew he had gotten his hopes up for nothing. There was no way the boy was leaving before setting the record straight with Jungwoo; fortunately for everyone, Yukhei was heading in the other’s direction, determined.

“Hey, can we talk?” He asked Jungwoo, his body language strong and confident, his voice the complete opposite, nervous and unassuming. At least he knew he was in the wrong.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” Jungwoo replied, the expression on his face proving Yukhei had had nothing to worry about in the first place.

Yukhei bit down his lip, trying to hide to smile threatening to come out. Now wasn’t the time for celebration. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he suggested, stepping back a little, inviting the other to join him. Jungwoo followed, the pair retreating further into the forest, away from prying ears.

Good for them. It wasn’t like the citizens needed to hear Yukhei’s drawn out apology in detail anyway. I’ve been a stupid asshole dumbass and I deserve nothing good ever happening to me again, he would say. You definitely were, and it hurt me, but now that you’ve come back to your senses, let’s make out like it’s the end of the world, Jungwoo would reply. Or something along those lines.

Someone still had to step forward, though. They couldn’t stop the leaving process because of one distraction in the pattern. Around him, no one made a move to be next; a little further, no movements from anyone either, apart from Chenle bringing his hands over his ears everytime lightning came into view, readying himself for the thunderstrike to follow.

Jisung removed a hand from over the boy’s ear, leaning in closer. “Chenle. Are you okay?” he said under his breath, having taken quick note of his friend’s visible discomfort, but not wanting to alert anyone else of the situation in case he were reading too much into it. What a considerate young lad, Taeil thought. Then again, when it came to Jisung, he had to admit he was a bit biased.

“Yeah,” Chenle nodded, shrugging it off. He had always had that tendency to pretend everything was fine, especially when it wasn’t. But his voice always betrayed his true feelings; nothing could get past Taeil. Well, almost. “It’s just a little loud,” he acknowledged, letting his other hand fall from his ear. Thunder terrified Chenle, always had. Enough to trigger a series of nightmares, one stormy night huddled in City Hall.

Jisung stared at his friend, pensive. “Maybe it’s a sign that it’s our turn,” he concluded, looking around to see if anyone wanted to step up before them. When he figured no one seemed willing to be next, his eyes flew back at Chenle, putting a hand over the boy’s shoulder. “Go over there, I’ll join you in a sec,” he instructed, intriguing Taeil. What could the youngest have to do, in such a critical moment for all of them?

Taeil was even more surprised when Jisung walked up to him and threw his arms around the older’s neck, giving Taeil the tightest hug he had ever received. Oh , he let out in a breath as his arms found their way around Jisung’s back, closing his eyes to savour the moment. Oh, how he had wondered endless days and nights if Jisung would ever come back to him. Taeil could feel himself tear up. Or maybe there were raindrops in his eyes.

“Promise me you’ll leave, too,” Jisung whispered into his ear, one last secret shared between them only. “Promise me you won’t stay behind. I’m not letting your hero complex get in the way. You have to promise me. It’s my only wish,” he kept going, the only person who had ever truly known him inside and out.

Taeil chuckled. It did seem like something he could do - sacrifice himself, for all of them to make it home. Had it come down to it, he wouldn’t have hesitated. “You grew up too fast, kid,” he murmured back. But he wouldn’t need to make that sacrifice, if things kept going smoothly. And he wouldn’t be able to, anyway, Jisung the only person knowing how to checkmate his purpose: others’ wishes had to come before his own, always. “I promise you. Six years in this place was more than enough,” Taeil gave his word, tightening his hold on the taller boy before letting him go, bittersweet smiles on both their faces.

Jisung joined back his friend, waiting for him close by the curtain, curiosity on his face from witnessing the unusual interaction, fading away when Jisung’s hand grabbed his own, ready to take their next step together. “You okay?” Jisung asked, turning his head towards the exit.

Chenle answered with a smile. Genuine, one Taeil hadn’t seen on his face in a long time. Finally, he was okay. “I’m safe,” Chenle replied, “thanks to you.”

Six gone. Twelve to go.

The trees worked as shelter against the heavy rain pouring down on them, but it was far from enough, the earth around them getting muddy, Taeil’s hair sticking to his forehead. Thunder struck a few more times, the light it emitted a stark contrast from the charcoal clouds covering Neo. Even the wind had started picking up, goosebumps rising on Taeil’s skin. Things were getting worse.

“All our friends are gone,” Donghyuck remarked, a half-hearted complaint, some sadness leaking from his words. Mark’s arm around his shoulder brought him closer, resting his head over Donghyuck’s in comfort.

“How about we join them, then?” Mark suggested, taking a look around the remaining citizens. His eyes settled on one of them, a distraught expression taking place over his features. “Oh, Renjun,” he muttered, his feet striding towards the aforementioned boy without a thought, prompting Taeil to look in his direction as well.

It wasn’t the rain, this time; Renjun was indeed crying, all by himself away from the thinning crowd. There was no telling when he had started, no one having noticed the state he was in until Mark pointed it out. Guilt nested in Taeil’s stomach, feeling a strong sense of responsibility towards the boy since the events of the morning. How could he not have paid attention? Of course the younger would be all over the place; he had the strongest attachment to Neo out of them all.

Mark must have held himself to the same standard of responsibility towards his younger friends, for he wrapped the boy in a tight hug as if it were second nature to him. Even after all the time he had had to spend away from his friends, slaving away all hours of the day, he would always remain their big brother. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” Mark patted Renjun’s soaked hair, other hand trailing up and down his back. Donghyuck soon joined the two, squeezing his friend’s shoulder.

Sensing Renjun was uncomfortable with the sudden attention, Mark pulled back, hoping to have eased off the boy’s worries, if only a little. (Mark had always been easy to read, even with his mouth closed.) “Hey. I’m sorry for yesterday, for leaving you hanging,” he apologised, Renjun avoiding the other’s eyes. “That wasn’t cool of me. I should have stayed and listened to what you had to say.”

Renjun shrugged, putting on a smile that wouldn’t reach his eyes. “It’s fine. We would have ended up here anyway,” he reasoned, his intentions clear to Taeil: he was pushing Mark’s attempts away, too miserable to even pretend the gesture, symbolic or heartfelt, had brought him any comfort.

“Junnie,” Donghyuck chimed in, tugging at the boy’s sleeves, his eyes wide, pouting. He too was feeling melancholic; he didn’t want to leave his best friend behind, especially not in a state like this. The affectionate name dripped in longing, reminders of a time when Renjun had appeared lost, and Donghyuck helped him find his way. “Come with us.”

But even Donghyuck, one of the most positive things about Neo, couldn’t make him change his mind. “You guys go ahead. I want to stay a little longer,” he declined, growing out his smile, eyes absent from the sparkle they held when he were truly happy.

Donghyuck pulled him into a hug one last time, an unspoken goodbye between the two adventurers, before leaving the boy be. Joining back Mark, they walked alongside each other towards the exit, towards the hope for better days.

“Mark,” he called out, said boy’s eyes having never left him in the first place. Donghyuck took a deep breath, hesitation on his face, but bright-eyed as ever, his anticipation triumphing over fear. “Will you keep searching for me?”

It didn’t take half a second for Mark to nod, breaking into the biggest grin Taeil had ever seen on his face. His fingers trailed down Donghyuck’s exposed forearms like they were raindrops on his skin, almost teasing, before locking their fingers together and bringing the younger’s hand to his lips, kissing Donghyuck’s knuckles under the rain. “Couldn’t stop even if I tried.”

All these kids pulling out moves greater than any rom-com he had ever seen were starting to make Taeil feel inadequate, if he were honest, but as he watched the pair hop into the holographic curtain, pattern rippling out in waves, he knew he would miss these two, as well as those who had come before, and those who would come after.

Eight gone. Ten to go.

From afar, slithering between the trees, Taeil could notice a gray cloud coming their way. He turned around, only to find it staring back at him from all angles; the citizens were now being indulged in fog, in hopes they would get lost in the forest and never find their way back to the exit. It didn’t seem too thick, as of now, but with all Neo had already tried, Taeil could be sure it would render them blind to their surroundings, if they weren’t fast enough.

Renjun was still crying, if not harder than before, with the departure of all his cherished friends. Taeil hadn’t thought it through, when he asked him for the exit in front of everybody. He could have done it in private where no one would have ever known, but his loud mouth were now cause of despair for the younger boy, exposed to feelings of betrayal from Taeyong, threats from Jaehyun, people he had known all his life now looking at him as if he had grown two heads. Taeil couldn’t leave him like that, all shattered. He had to help him out; he had put him in this mess, and he’d make things right.

Careful not to startle him, Taeil shuffled closer to the boy. “Why don’t you go, Renjun? You’ve done good work. You deserve to go,” he encouraged, a hesitant hand patting his back – the possibility Renjun would snap his hand away was relatively high, especially considering the two were strangers to each other.

But if anything, Renjun couldn’t feel the slight pressure over his back, either because of the rain weighing down his clothes, or the numbness that consumed him. “I can’t. This is all I have,” he sniffed, his teary eyes taking in every single detail of the forest surrounding them. “There’s nothing good waiting for me on the other side. I know it.”

If this were any other citizen, Taeil would have shut down these negative thoughts in an instant, speculations of something they had no knowledge or remembrance of. Renjun, however, wasn’t any other citizen; his memories had become his own again, and if he believed the other side to be a life he didn’t want to go back to, there was nothing Taeil could say or do.

Renjun covered his eyes with his hand, wiping away the tears that kept falling and mixing in with the rain, each time a drop hit his skin a reminder of how they got here in the first place. “This is all I have, and every single day I’ve had to see it destroyed,” he croaked, and Taeil could feel the boy’s heart shatter between the lines of his haunting words. “I can’t let anything happen to it anymore. I can’t leave it behind,” he added, shaking his head.

Taeil’s eyes trailed off – he couldn’t bear hearing how heartbroken Renjun felt – and settled on a furious Doyoung, throwing daggers at the man by his side pretending not to see what was happening. Having had enough of his behaviour, Doyoung pushed Jaehyun forward, earning a glare from his short-tempered boyfriend. “You better make this real proper, Jung,” Doyoung spat, no amusement whatsoever in his words. At least it was nice to know Renjun had more people backing him up then he were aware of. Even Johnny was moving closer, in case all hell broke loose. There was no way they were letting Jaehyun touch Renjun; there was no way for Jaehyun to come out of this victorious.

Heaving out a sigh, Jaehyun stepped in their direction, reluctant. The younger boy’s eyes widened when he realised the man was approaching him in particular, and Taeil put his hand over his shoulder, both to put him at ease and prevent him from running away; the two arch enemies had to have this conversation before they left, or Renjun might never recover.

Jaehyun stood at a reasonable distance, behind him Doyoung with his arms crossed over his chest and Johnny standing on the other side of Renjun, almost mirroring Taeil’s position. Jaehyun must have felt somewhat intimidated, if the gulp of air he took in before speaking was anything to go by. “Look, Renjun—”

“Fuck you,” the boy interjected before Jaehyun could even try to make his point, hands balling into fists the way Jaehyun’s had been earlier in the morning, ready to defend himself – or strike first if necessary. Renjun had had more than enough of the older’s antics.

Jaehyun raised his hands up in surrender, laying his intentions out in the open for the younger to understand. “I didn’t mean to make this hard on you. I swear.”

“But you did anyway!” Renjun cried out, lightning striking at the same time, menacing shadows appearing on his tear-stained cheeks. “You knew it hurt me, and you kept going! Again and again and again! I was ready to kill myself if it meant you would stop,” his voice faltered, covering it up with a cough. But Taeil hadn’t missed a thing. “You saw all that. And yet, you kept going,” he accused the older, rightfully so.

Wow. It had been so much harder on him than Taeil had thought. And to think Renjun would still prefer to be in Neo, living through this again and again, rather than the outside world. “I’m sorry, Renjun,” Jaehyun started, running a hand through his hair. It felt strange for Taeil to hear, but genuine guilt tinted his speech, for the first time since his arrival in Neo. A little too late and definitely last minute, but better than never. “I knew it hurt you, and I kept going. I’m a selfish asshole and I don’t take others’ feelings into consideration, when I should. I only think of what’s best for me and refuse to make compromises. I did wrong. I’m sorry.”

The younger’s frown hadn’t softened in the slightest. Jaehyun sighed, taking a step forward; Taeil could feel Renjun’s shoulder muscles under his hand tense up at the movement, and the glare both Taeil and Johnny sent Jaehyun made him take an immediate step back. “I know you won’t forgive me, and you have no reason to. Even if it wasn’t my intention, I hurt you with my actions. And I’m sorry,” he continued, his expression morphing into one of concern as Renjun wiped his tears again, an action as pointless as Jaehyun’s apology. “But you have to go, Renjun. You can’t stay here.”

Presented with the exit, on a day where he had been granted the choice all by himself, Renjun had chosen to stay. Today, the choice ripped away from him, having to listen to his worst enemy, there was no way for Renjun to agree and hop into the exit as if nothing had ever happened. Jaehyun was a fool for thinking that way, but then again, Jaehyun was a fool about a lot of things, in and out of his control.

Renjun’s arm moved, prompting Taeil to remove his hand from over his shoulder. The boy reached through his pocket and he took out a bright red lighter, tossing the object Jaehyun’s way. The man caught it, brows furrowed in surprise. It almost seemed to be a peace offering of some sort, until Renjun spoke up again, proving them dead wrong.

“You don’t know what it’s like, to lose everything you’ve ever known piece by piece, bit by bit,” he said, his jaw clenched, staring into Jaehyun’s eyes, making sure the man would never be able to forget his words, to forget the hurt he had caused, to forget the boy from the forest who would have given all he had to protect his own, even when all he had was nothing.

A real fighter, that kid.

Thunder struck again, the light diffused by the fog around them creating halos around their silhouettes for a short instant. Jaehyun, previously left speechless, was about to say something more when Doyoung walked up to him, grabbing his wrist. “Let him be, Jaehyun. You’ve done enough,” he tugged on his arm, Jaehyun backing away with shame in his eyes for Taeil only to read. True regret had caught up to him, making him wish he had done this much sooner. No could do, now. “Let’s get going, okay?”

Renjun had stopped crying, but it remained evident on his face all the hurt this whole ordeal had caused him. Getting closer to the holographic curtain, Jaehyun turned around, extending his hand towards the younger boy. One last attempt at redemption, perhaps, but also an opportunity for Renjun to let go as well. Doyoung was looking at his boyfriend with wild eyes, but there was a new fondness to them as he watched Jaehyun taking all those extra steps towards bettering himself.

Renjun threw an insecure glance Taeil’s way, the older giving him a supportive smile, before he stepped forward, grabbing Doyoung’s hand instead of the one held out for him. Good enough , Jaehyun’s face read as he cracked a smile smile at the younger, and the trio stepped into the exit, leaving Neo for good.

Eleven gone. Seven to go.

More than half the citizens had left, now. Neo could thicken the fog surrounding them all it wanted, it had already lost. It had lost the second Taeil met Jisung, in a way. The rest was ripples of a butterfly effect so great it made the city glitch, letting in literal butterflies at its most unstable moments. Neo had lost when it tried to make its citizens. People made a city, the city didn’t make its people. That fundamental truth was the reason Neo was crumbling, six years later.

“Johnny,” Taeil called. Jungwoo and Yukhei hadn’t come back from their talk yet, and Sicheng and Yuta were the definite lasts, Taeil’s orders; it was their leader’s turn to go now, whether he wanted to or not. And Johnny didn’t seem to like the idea in the slightest, frowning at Taeil, soaked hair falling over his forehead obstructing his glare.

“No. I’m not leaving without him. I don’t care if he never forgives me, I won’t leave him behind,” Johnny stood his ground, refusing to move an inch. “You said he’d find his way, but I don’t see him anywhere. I don’t know where he is at all,” he admitted, the oddity in his statement resounding louder than any other word he had spoked.

“You can’t tell where he is?” Taeil frowned, soon replaced by a sly smile creeping up the corners of his lips. Seemed like Ten had done exactly what he needed to do, after all. Taeil had been right to trust him. “Neo must be leaving you.”

Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out an exasperated sigh. Taeil seemed to have that effect on people. “What are you even saying, Taeil?” He groaned, worn down by the events of the day. Tough guy hadn’t had it easy either, if his puffy eyes were anything to go by. “Why do you always have to talk like that?” He muttered, more to himself than Taeil.

“I’m saying Ten was right not to trust you,” Taeil elaborated, raising an eyebrow at the taller. “See, Neo chooses who it lets in. Can’t have anyone disrupting the peace. These words sound familiar to you?” By the look on Johnny’s face, Taeil could tell he had hit bullseye.

Taeil knew the exact way Neo worked; of course he’d know the exact words this city would use to manipulate anyone to its liking. “Neo chose you first. Leader-like, friendly giant type of guy. The perfect vessel to move around the pawns into doing what was best in Neo’s interest,” he continued, knowing this time, he could share the knowledge he had held close to his heart with others, without fearing future repercussions – there was no future here, not anymore. And Johnny deserved to know; Taeil had carried enough secrets he had never shared. This one, he would let out. “But in exchange for the knowledge of everyone’s whereabouts, granting you instant privilege over anyone who would want to rise as leader, Neo could now take decisions for you. Influence you into influencing people.”

Johnny frowned, equal parts confused and deep in thought. This must have been a lot to take in; the illusion of control was a difficult one to let go of, and to find out he had never had it in the first place could be hard to swallow. He opened up his mouth to speak, no sound coming out, but when they did, he stumbled over his words. “I don’t— like, possessed?”

What had tipped him off something was strange about Johnny was the sudden hatred he held towards their latest newcomer. Yukhei had barely had time to breathe before Johnny stepped into defensive mode, finding ways to tame him down when he had done nothing wrong yet. To anyone else, it would have seemed to be a simple clash of personalities; but to Taeil, who knew Yukhei hadn’t been chosen by Neo, Johnny’s stance meant something much deeper, something Johnny wasn’t even aware of. Because Johnny was a sweet, lovable guy, and even thought he had his flaws like everyone else, he wasn’t a bad guy.

These bad thoughts plaguing his mind belonged to someone else, something else. “Not necessarily. Just… not in control,” Taeil nuanced, the distinction important for Johnny to understand. “When Jaemin got sick, it was Neo’s doing. A punishment for letting Hansol leave. Jaemin was supposed to die. But because of your connection with Neo, you knew there was a way out. And Neo knew you knew. Why do you think Ten couldn’t ever leave your head, every time you thought of taking the right decision? Neo didn’t want you to save him. And you didn’t.”

Yes, Taeil knew he was dropping a lot on him, but the man wanted answers. Said man having been manipulated for years without his knowledge, and now Taeil had a mere few minutes to explain all of Neo’s mind fuckery. Of course it would seem like a massive information dump, but Taeil owed it to him to tell the absolute truth, even if he would have preferred to explain point by point. As if Neo would ever give them that. “But… he survived,” Johnny pointed out, his confusion reaching heights greater than ever.

Taeil nodded. “Yes. Why do you think I let Jisung go?” He disclosed, the question more rhetorical than anything – Johnny didn’t even know of the older’s connection to the youngest. All these revelations at once were not ideal, but he had to make it quick. “So he’d latch onto the next leader figure, someone who would give him the sense of security he had with me. So he’d make the decision when you couldn’t.”

Of all decisions Taeil had had to take, letting go of Jisung had been and would always remain the hardest. Not only did he adore the child to bits, but all the information his gut feeling had granted him on the decision was how this detachment would be beneficial not in the near, but far future. Thus Taeil was left in the dark for years, years of watching the boy hate him from afar, every day the prophecy remained unfulfilled making him want to run back and apologise to the youngest like never before. Fuck this magical gut feeling. Only when Jaemin fell sick could Taeil finally breathe, knowing he hadn’t done all this for nothing, but also knowing he would never get those wasted years back, Jisung’s admiration back.

Johnny looked at him with wide eyes, earlier confusion replaced by what could almost seem like worry. “How… Who are you, Taeil?” The taller shook his head, shaken up by his story.

Their conversation was cut short by movement coming from the forest. For a second, Taeil thought it was Yukhei and Jungwoo coming back from their little talk, but when a hatchet came into view, red handle shining through the fog and cutting the ferns out of the way in vigorous swings, he had to revise himself.

“Ten,” Johnny let out, almost breathless at the sight. He was as soaked as the rest of them, but it appeared a lot more odd when contrasted to the burn marks on his clothes. Tiny cuts were sprinkled all over his hands, as if he had put them in a pile of broken glass, and he was breathing heavily, fire in his eyes. Simple adrenaline rush, or vivid anger overtaking him? “What happened to you?”

Those were some serious serial killer vibes going on, but when Ten let go of the hatchet, Taeil let out a sigh of relief. It could have gotten awkward fast if the man that had worked this hard to get rid of the spirits inside Johnny’s head had gotten back possessed as well. “Johnny,” Ten growled, “we’re leaving. Now.”

Ten grabbed the taller man by the wrist, the faint glow of the curtain’s magnetic pull leading him through the fog towards the exit. There was so much Johnny wanted to say, words leaking through him for Taeil’s ears to be their only witness. “Ten, I—”

“I love you too, but let me be pissed,” Ten cut off, making a stop when they had reached the now dreaded curtain. Taeil could hear steps coming from behind him, but his eyes couldn’t tear themselves from the drama unfolding in front of him. “Now, please go in before I push you myself,” he ordered, paying Johnny’s pleading eyes no mind as he crossed his arms over his chest, revealing even more tiny cuts covering his forearms as well, blood washed out by the rain. Yet the marks would always remain.

Ten may have destroyed the computer in an attempt to free his lover from its influence, but what he had done meant so much more. Neo did have its strongest connection within Johnny, but all of those who had gotten through that door had been linked to this place as well. As Hansol had said it best, this place was clingy, interfering with the Not-Neo in order to bring them back even after they were long gone. He had sent Taeil proof of it, after all. But now that the system had been tampered with, it was safe to assume they would be free of its presence wherever they went. Free at last, all of them. In a way, Ten had taken down the city all by himself, not even aware of the impact it held. As long as his lover was okay.

A lot of things in Neo had happened for that same reason; for each other to be okay.

In a leap of faith, Johnny put his hand behind Ten’s neck, bringing the shorter man closer and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. He let his lips linger for a while, but pulled away, looking into Ten’s eyes one last time before doing as he were told and leaving the premises, crossing to the other side of the curtain where they might never meet again. Ten let his face fall as the man left, but wasted no time in following him, disappearing as well.

Thirteen gone. Five to go.

“I still think you should have told me about the headaches,” a voice Taeil could recognise as Yukhei’s came from behind in the forest. Right, the steps he had heard earlier. It seemed Jungwoo and Yukhei were finally coming back, and if Taeil weren’t mistaken, better than ever. Taeil was glad, although they had sure missed out on a lot meanwhile.

“I couldn’t,” Jungwoo spoke up, closer than Taeil would have thought. Damn fog messing around with his perception of distance. “Had I told you, you wouldn’t have been your true self around me. You would have held yourself back. You wouldn’t have been the crazy stupid Yukhei I fell in love with.” At these words, the pair emerged from the fog, holding hands. The citizens sure loved to rub their love in Taeil’s face, so it seemed. “I don’t regret it.”

Yukhei’s eyes settled on Taeil, looking around the exit in search of other familiar faces only to find none of their friends. “Everyone left already?” He remarked, as if Taeil hadn’t been standing two feet away. Nice to know he was being appreciated, as Yukhei strided towards a large tree instead. “Sicheng. You’ll be okay?”

Oh. Sicheng. By the tree with Yuta. Taeil had been putting the moment off for a while, leaving it for later, but he’d have to deal with it, now that they would remain the last two standing, alone in the presence of each other. “Yeah. Don’t worry,” Sicheng muttered, forever an echo, tickling Taeil’s ears. “See you around, Yukhei.”

Yukhei waved, before getting back to Jungwoo, already waiting by the exit. He looked tenderly at the older boy, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “In the end, it was you,” Yukhei murmured, letting a smile overtake him. Images of an antique dollar shop infiltrated Taeil’s mind through his words, an old memory unknown to his lover laced in the boy’s speech.

Jungwoo frowned, lips curling up as well. “What do you mean?” The boy tilted his head, amused at his boyfriend’s words, curious to know exactly what was going on inside his mind after spending so much time apart from each other. They had so much to catch up on.

Too bad time had never been on anyone’s side, here in Neo. “Nothing,” Yukhei said, letting his hand fall back to his side. Jungwoo took the opportunity to take it in his own, giggling at the touch, the happiness of getting back together making him giddy at the simple sight of Yukhei’s face so close to his own. “Just… fate.”

And so, together as promised, they took a step forward, limbs rippling the waves of the curtain, changing its colours as they entered the exit. The holographic pattern returned to its original state when the two lovebirds had finished travelling to the other side, away from all the insecurities that had plagued them in the unfairness of Neo.

Fifteen gone. Three to go.

All that were left were Sicheng and Yuta, one of which couldn’t speak, and the other caught in a dream he might never escape.

Sicheng had always been the hardest to read. It must have been the way his voice worked, different than everyone else’s, his words becoming part of the landscape when they echoed around. Taeil read people through their voices. He could always hear the whispers of the wind, but never the confines of Sicheng’s mind. As if the wind had stolen the boy’s voice to wear as its own, and help out the citizens at his expanse.

Although he knew of the hate Sicheng held against him, Taeil took his chances, getting closer to the boy and sitting down under the same tree, leaning his back against the trunk. At this point, his clothes were so drenched, it didn’t matter if he were sitting in a muddy puddle. The fog was getting thicker; maybe Sicheng hadn’t even noticed him approaching, busy brushing the wet fringe off Yuta’s forehead. Taeil’s purpose wasn’t to make small talk with him anyway. He just wanted to be close to someone, in a world where all those he once loved were gone.

But the world rarely worked in his favour, he had grown to learn. “I never had the chance to tell him I loved him, you know,” Sicheng spoke up from his side of the tree, letting Taeil know he had acknowledged his presence. Had the boy changed his mind about him? Last time they had exchanged a word, Sicheng was growling at him.

A scoff escaped Taeil’s lips before he could do process the action, thoughts slipping out out his mouth like a broken dam. “Oh, I wish you hadn’t said that,” he shook his head, appalled to hear Sicheng’s words, however they got out of him. ‘ Never had the chance ’? Enough to make him go mad. “You had all the chances, Sicheng. I made sure of it.”

All this effort he had put in, and this was how it was received? “I tried to make you confess. I tried everything so you wouldn’t have regrets when the time came, but for some reason, you’ve never went through with any of them,” Taeil ranted, bewildered. Was the boy that oblivious? It couldn’t be Taeil’s fault. Yes, he did work in somewhat peculiar ways, but with the number of intricate plans he had concocted, there was no way Sicheng wasn’t aware already.

But if it happened to be the case, Taeil would have to lay his cards on the table in a way Sicheng would be unable to ignore. “I gave you Sun and Moon metaphors for each other when I suggested he be official Keeper. You literally fell for him on your first day; who put that rock there, you think? I tried telling you in dreams, making you jealous of someone else saving him so you would. I even pretended to hook up with him so you’d stop dancing around the subject and confess. I tried everything, and you never took the bait. Not once,” Taeil let out, sparing no detail. He was done letting his work stay unnoticed, when he had put all his soul into it. “Don’t complain to me saying you never had the chance. I gave you all I could.”

He heard a sigh come from Sicheng, and was about to get even angrier until the boy spoke up. “I didn’t need any of that,” he let out. Agree to disagree, Taeil thought. “I was confused, yes. I didn’t know what I felt, when everyone around me seemed to know. I figured it out, after a while. But I didn’t need all these opportunities. That was never the problem,” he said, grabbing Taeil’s attention. Was there more to it than he had thought, after all?

“I wanted to tell him, believe me,” Sicheng continued. “I wanted to say it. Not with that echo thing I’ve been given, no. With my voice, my real voice, my own words. I wanted it to come from me. So I waited for my voice to come back, somehow, someway. And it never did,” Sicheng explained, his echo faltering as he exposed the root of his problem. “Had I had a voice, I would have confessed long ago. But I waited for something that would never come, and I lost my chance forever.”

Oh , the wind whispered to Taeil. Oh , Taeil’s mind whispered back.

Well, saying he felt dumb right now would be an understatement. “I heard what Doyoung said, earlier,” Sicheng recalled, bringing Taeil back to the impromptu and loud proposal debacle. “We won’t be together, in the Not-Neo. Right?”

He couldn’t tell what the boy was thinking at all times or wanted out of life, but Taeil would have been blind not to remark, even if it didn’t always seen like it, that he was indeed smart. Even caught up in an emotional battlefield against himself, he remained observant, assimilating information from his surroundings. His handicap might have restrained him from talking as much as he wanted, but just because he preferred to stay silent, didn’t mean he were oblivious to the world around him.

It also meant Taeil couldn’t lie, for he’d only be found out on the spot. He’d rather save himself the embarrassment, even if it meant shattering someone else’s hopes. Either way, to lie wasn’t part of his purpose, even when his contractor was crumbling into nothingness as he spoke. “It’s a possibility,” Taeil conceded, taking interest in his fingers. Could they not feel the drops on his skin anymore, or had the rain stopped? Now that Ten had destroyed the power source, could it be Neo shutting down for good?

Taeil had thought all that computer did was manage the citizens and keep records of everything that happened. What if it managed the entire city? The ecosystem, the building repairs, food supplies… How, Taeil wasn’t sure. His gut had always told him not to tamper with the monitors, and so he had obliged. His gut had never told him why, though. Perhaps the end of everything was why. Piece by piece, Neo disappearing, starting with the contents of the sky.

The boy stayed silent for a moment. “Is that why you wanted me to tell him so bad?” Sicheng then asked, connecting the pieces of a puzzle he had been given far too long ago, its instruction pamphlet absent from the box. “So I wouldn’t keep him behind because of my regrets?”

There it was again, that understanding of greater things Taeil had let slip past him. Assuming the boy didn’t care, didn’t want to care. Sicheng understood all the painful truths of life the way Taeil did; he worked for his own self, whereas Taeil’s self was meant for others. Back to back against the tree, Sicheng was a mirror into an alternate universe where Taeil was master of his own will, and the thought made his chest bloom in regret.

“Yes,” Taeil let out, forced into a corner. How he had underestimated the boy this badly would remain a mystery to him. “We all had to go, in the end. Even if it meant losing the opportunity to tell him, forever.”

Sicheng let out a small chuckle. “You didn’t have to worry about that either, Taeil,” he said. “Deep down, I think a part of him always knew. That’s why he never stopped chasing me, even after I turned him down hundreds of times. He knew. He must have,” Sicheng recalled, Taeil thinking back to all the displays of affection Yuta had never been afraid to pull out in public, even after the oldest had messed things up between them. All the displays of affection Sicheng had pretended to hate, while never pushing them away. “And I regret never saying anything. I do, now. But if there’s anything Yuta taught me, it’s how to be selfless.”

Taeil may not have been able to see him, or hear from his voice, but in that moment, he could tell the younger was smiling. “Every night, Yuta gives away the stars back to the sky,” Sicheng continued, the echo sweet enough to make flowers bloom in the midst of chaos. “He loves them very much, but he always knew how to let go. If he can do it with thousands of stars, I can do it with one. I’ll give him back to the world where he belongs, even if I love him very much,” he explained, getting up on his feet, a peaceful Yuta in his arms. “Because I love him very much.”

Walking away in the fog, Taeil could barely make out their silhouettes, but he could hear Sicheng’s voice carried by the wind as clear as ever. “You always looked at me like I put the stars in the sky, when it was you all this time,” he confessed to the unconscious man in his arms, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead. And without another noise, the foggy silhouettes disappeared.

Seventeen gone. One to go.

Taeil was alone.

In the beginning, he had been alone. Stretched out minutes turned hours in the freezing wind wandering City Center, in search of another soul to hold onto. Alone and terrified, until someone answered his prayers and gave him a boy. Alone again, voices murmuring Let him go, push him away, and you’ll save the city. Alone when he met a man willing to listen, willing to fill the void inside him, and alone again when he let him leave, and you’ll save the city . Alone when he walked, alone when he spoke. Alone in the end, just the way it had started. The exact same wind blasting through his shirt, shivers running high, praying for his soul to find the deliverance it had been begging for since the very beginning.

But Taeil dared to hope, in a city swallowing wishes dry.

And he moved forward through the thick fog, the exit at the tip of his fingers. One step, and he’d be gone, too, the wind pushing him in the right direction. The only direction. And so, to the wind that had sung for them everytime the world went mad, he whispered.

“So long, Neo.”