He focuses on pushing the boxes aside, carelessly knocking over the contents in the one closest to him. Jeonghan watches from the door, sighing.

"Seungkwan-ah... What are you doing? Again?"

"Mm?" Seungkwan replies chirpily, ducking his head to check under the bed. With the boxes out of the way, he could see more clearly. "I'm looking."

Jeonghan lets out another sigh. He shakes his head and leaves him be. They've been trying to talk him out of this for months, obviously to no avail, for the young singer hasn't stopped looking since he lost it.

"Jeonghan-hyung, what's he doing?" Chan asks once he was outside, curious eyes wide. The angel lets out a dry chuckle.

"Guess."

"Oh." Chan's face falls. He looks down at his feet and twiddles his thumbs, tight lips giving away his worry. "Didn't you tell him?"

"He won't listen, we've been trying that for ages." Jeonghan sighs, running a hand through his light brown hair, just recently cut short. "He looks for him everyday."

The maknae begins to make his way down the corridor away from their bedrooms, Jeonghan following closely behind. "I wish there was something we could do to make him understand."

-

Seungkwan hums softly as he threads on the small ledge of the sidewalk like a tightrope. Each and every tune he sings imprints itself in Jihoon's mind like the notes on a music sheet. The little composer has his tiny hand held in Seungkwan's, helping the younger keep his balance.

Jihoon rarely goes outside because he hated it. Incidentally, Seungkwan wanted to visit the park today while the rest happened to be busy. How could Jihoon say no to that sweet smile? He more or less grabbed his jacket and put it on without hesitation.

For the first time in a while, Jihoon doesn't regret a hasty decision. Ever since it happened, the composer only really feels at ease when Seungkwan was next to him, laughing, smiling, almost back to the way he was before.

"Thanks, Jihoon-hyung," Seungkwan smiles, his bright doe eyes shining as he hops off the last bit of the ledge. Jihoon retracts his hand and tucks it back into his jacket pocket.

"No problem." He replies, unable to hold back a soft smile. The younger giggles like a kid and moves on to try stepping on every leaf in his path. Jihoon follows along quietly, observing his child-like antiques.

Where the hell are you?

The composer's smile quickly fades when he is reminded of why his friend was reduced to such a state. A little over a year ago on a cold day just like this - Hansol crashed the car.

They were out of town on a trip to practically nowhere; That boy had a love for adventure and spontaneity back when he was still here. The two were always joined by the hip. Hansol got into trouble out of his love for the unknown and Seungkwan got into the same trouble out of his love for Hansol.

Jihoon remembers the first day Seungkwan got home.

"Where's Hansolie?"

He never found the answer to that question. Neither have the rest. Seungkwan was still dressed in the white pyjamas Jihoon was so sick of seeing at the time - Pale and deathly like what you'd except from a person who had spent six months in a hospital.

"He left."

"He left..?" He tilts his head, soft brown bangs shifting with his movement. Then, he breaks out into a happy smile. "Hansol would never leave."

-

The sound of shattering ceramic jolts Seungcheol awake from his nap. He sprints from the couch and into the kitchen, halting at the doorway.

"Seungkwan, what happened?" He breathes, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "Don't touch it - Move, move away." 

The vocalist was seated on the floor, stunned, crimson droplets forming at the fresh cut on his arm. In his hand he held one of the bigger ceramic shards once part of the plate that was now scattered around the room. 

"Seungkwan?" Their leader tries again, going over, avoiding the shards on the tiled floor. "Seungkwan, get up."

He grabs hold of Seungkwan's arm and pulls him to stand. "And put that down."

The younger immediately drops the piece of blood stained ceramic. He shudders and grabs at his soft brown locks, fisting up his hands in his hair.

"Wh-What's wrong?" Seungcheol manages to stutter, quickly grabbing onto Seungkwan's arms before he can claw all his hair out. "Shh, it's okay, let go."

"Coups-hyung, I-I..."

Seungcheol blinks, panic beginning to rise in his chest. "Yeah?"

"Hansol... I found him. The glass..." The younger's voice is choked back into a sob. Despite the blood dripping at his cut, he seemed... Glad?

The events were a blur but it seems his body still remembers the way his last moments with Hansol felt. The way he was sent flying without a seatbelt on, the impact of his skull against the windshield, the shattered window digging into his skin just like now.

Seungcheol's heart sinks as he catches sight of the way Seungkwan eyes the remaining shards on the floor and he knew for a fact Seungkwan had finally found what he had been looking for.

☆．。．:*･°       end       ☆．。．:*･°