Chapter Text
It starts off as a joke, or perhaps a suicidal wish. To be honest, it’s difficult to tell the difference anymore.
Because the thing about living in this silent world is that Kihyun would rather not. It’s not that he isn't interested in surviving, since truth be told, he's pretty damn good at it (how else would he still be here, alive, when the rest of Seoul seems to have been wiped out in the first wave of attacks?).
It’s just, he's bored. Really really bored of keeping quiet, keeping still, darting around and being so afraid of making any sound that he might as well just not be alive in the first place.
Even so, the first time he does it, his hands are shaking so so hard, his voice cracks on the first word he speaks. "H - hello everyone, this is Kihyun, broadcasting live from S - s - seoul," he speaks into the microphone, he can feel his lisp coming out more prominently than usual.
Closes his eyes and counts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 - because that's how long it takes for one of Them to reach. 8, 9, 10, 11, 12 -
"Wow. I guess -" he pauses for effect, but also pauses because he's not used to speaking so much. Not anymore. "I guess, it seems like we're in business everyone. Sucks for you guys, you're going to be stuck with me for a while."
It becomes a regular thing. Every day, without fail, he sneaks back into the radio studio and talks. He talks about what he sees during the day ("Nothing much."), what he does ("Nothing much."), and what he's feeling ("Nothing much."). There’s no set time for how long he chooses to run his broadcast for. Sometimes, he speaks for hours and hours, until his eyelids grow heavy and he's half-slumped over the table.
Sometimes, he just switches on the microphone and sits in silence. Just listens to the feedback of the static echoing softly through the wires, broadcasting to whoever that may still be out there, that's brave enough to switch on their radios for something as useless as his mindless chattering. Has he gotten anyone killed because of this show? Has he given anybody's location away because they were unlucky enough to catch his broadcast while hiding away?
He knows pursuing this train of thought is madness, but he can't help his mind from wandering down the path anyway. Even so, he can't stop coming back, can't stop his hands from flipping on that ON AIR switch and pretending for a moment, that the world hasn't gone to shit yet.
Other times, the worry turns inwards. His broadcast lasts just a minute. Those are the moments when he's sure his time is up. All that confidence is just a ruse, because truth be told, he's terrified of dying.
Those are the moments he remembers the blood and the carnage, the cowering underneath a desk, squeezing his eyes shut and praying that They wouldn't come his way.
But he doesn't particularly like those memories, so he tries not to dwell on them too much. Denial is bliss, which makes his radio studio the Nile river.
Because in this radio studio, with its supposedly sound-proofed walls, he knows he's safe. There’s nothing that can get at him here. They can't hear him hear - maybe, no one can. After all, for all the months he's interned at the radio station before the world ended, it's not like he managed to learn everything from the audio engineer. Maybe that bright ON AIR sign is just a lie, and he's just been a fool talking to himself.
"So today, I've prepared something special for all of you."
It’s a Thursday, and if it were a year ago, he would be having dinner with his housemates at the university dorm. Minhyuk would be recounting his day at an obnoxiously loud volume with too much enthusiasm and energy for the small apartment to contain, and Hyungwon would be rolling his eyes and pretending not to pay attention, a small smile tugging at his lips. It would have been pizza and chicken night, and he would have been surrounded with so much noise and laughter and warmth and -
No, let's not go there. Not today.
“It’s been about two months since I started doing this, and I guess God must really love me or something, because somehow or other, I'm still here. Although of course I am, I'm great at this survival thing, you guys should really take notes from me." It would be nice to imagine that somewhere, someone out there, alive just as he is, rolling their eyes at that statement. "As a gift to all of you, I’m blessing you with my otherworldly angelic voice.”
After stuffing themselves full, they would tumble into one of those cheap karaoke bars that dotted the streets that led to their university. The street would be lit up by terribly garrish neon signs, and they would grab a bottle or two of soju along the way.
He had gone back to the karaoke bars the other day - it was all wrecked, just like everything else in Seoul. But buried deep within the rubble were a few CDs of backing instrumentals from songs long ago. It didn't take much thought, the labels on the CDs were enough to convince him that these were worth saving and he'd tucked them into his bag. There was no way he could play this in his apartment without attracting any unwanted attention, but it was a waste leaving them there. Someone’s heart and soul, their history, went into producing this song.
That was precisely what Kihyun couldn't stand - the obliteration of music and memory. Losing everything to this dead silence.
The studio has a CD player, so he slips in one of the disks. It’s labelled Crush, and he turns up the volume, loud, just as the first bars of Beautiful starts. The irony of this being one of his go-to songs on karaoke Thursday isn't lost on him, he knows this song like the back of his hand.
But there's no time for such self-pitying thoughts to creep in, not when the music is playing, not when he can close his eyes and pretend that he's back in his room, pretending to be a world-famous singer.
It’s been so long - it's been too long since he's had music surround him with such intensity.
There’s nothing left to do but to sing.
-
When it first starts, Kihyun is ready to race back to Ilsan to make sure his parents are okay. He’s thrown some clothes into a duffle bag, checked the timings of the trains leaving the day after, and withdrawn as much cash as he could from the teller. There’s no telling what would happen, and he feels safer having money on him.
The television blaring in the living room is an endless stream of explosions and gore, of shaky footage and screams before the screen cuts out. No one seems to understand what's going on nor does anyone have any concrete information, and Kihyun thinks it's ridiculous how the stations continue broadcasting the attacks. It’s just causing mass panic and hysteria - which he supposes, he's caving into as well, because all he can think about is I need to go home, I need to be sure that eomma and appa are alright.
Outside the dorm room, sirens are going off every ten minutes or so. There’s so much noise, from the streets, from the television, from his own wild thoughts running a marathon at top speed in his head. The world was a different place back then, and looking back, Kihyun can only hold back bitter laughter at how foolish and naiive they all had been.
Can’t you see, it was the noise that was killing you all? he wants to yell at all of them in the past. But that’s ludicrous – who would have thought that these creatures hunted you down based on sound? Whoever would have thought that speaking would have gotten you torn apart in a matter of seconds?
As he's about to book his tickets on the next train home, his mother sends a text, we are fine. stay in seoul. it may be safer there.
His fingers are shaking as he types out his reply. There’s so much adrenaline in him, he doesn't know what to do with all this nervous energy, i'm about to get the train tickets home
kihyun-ah, we are fine. don't worry.
can’t help it. i’ll come home.
don't worry about us. we will move to somewhere safe.
stay safe okay?
let's meet up with this is over.
okay. i love you.
i love you too.
Three days later, as he's still paralysed in indecision, it's reported on the television that Ilsan has fallen. Whatever fallen means remains ambiguous because as far as anyone knows, the creatures haven't seem to have made any claim over territory nor have they launched into the usual take-over spiel that anyone even vaguely familiar with alien movies would recognise.
In fact, They seem more interested in carnage and spreading general terror. From first-hand camera footage, it doesn't even seem like They're killing for food. The violence just seems senseless and mindless, and Kihyun finds this infinitely more terrifying.
He’s clutching his phone tight in his hand, don't worry about us. we will move to somewhere safe - his mother's message burns bright on the screen. "From eyewitness accounts, a locust of creatures swarmed Ilsan this morning," the newscaster is saying on the television in front of him.
"While we are still trying to establish what's happening inside Ilsan, we are all prepared for the worst."
let's meet up when this is over.
-
No matter how the broadcast starts, he ends it the same way each time, "Eomma, appa, if you're safe where you are, please don't come to Seoul to find me. As you can hear, I’m fine here. I’ll look for you when this is all over."
"Minhyuk, Hyungwonnie, if you're out there somewhere, meet me at our apartment at 2pm. I’ll be there waiting."
It’s been more than a few months since he's started his broadcast, and every day, he's as alone in their old apartment as ever. After the broadcast on Ilsan happened, Minhyuk had offered to stay behind with Kihyun. “It’s fine, I know they’re alright. We’re still texting and everything,” his friend says, his eyes soft but serious.
“I’m fine, you should go back with Hyungwon,” Kihyun’s answer is clipped and short. This is the seventh time they’re having this conversation in the same day, since the news about Ilsan came out. He’s tired of this debate, doesn’t want the pity of his friends.
Minhyuk scoffs, and jabs a finger in his direction, “I know what you’re trying to do. Don’t try to be all self-sacrificial or whatever!”
“Look, I’ll be here when you guys get back. You need to look after him too right?” Kihyun hasn’t missed the looks his best friend shoots the younger boy when he thinks Hyungwon isn’t looking. If it isn’t for the fact that the world seems to possibly be collapsing around them, he’d invest more energy in making fun of Minhyuk - but it seems like the time for that is long past. “Are you honestly fine with letting the frog go there and come back by himself?”
“He’s smarter than the both of us,” Minhyuk answers, but there’s no strength in his statement – and Kihyun knows he’s won.
“Just go with him, alright?”
They leave for Gwangju a few days later, although only because Kihyun purchases the train tickets behind their backs and forces them into their hands. “Stay safe, alright?” he says to them, his voice wavering. There’s so much he wants to say to them, and yet, to say any of it would make it feel like this is the last time they’d be seeing each other.
“We’ll come back and find you,” Minhyuk says, and Kihyun knows his best friend is thinking the same thing. To say their goodbyes now would make this too final, so the three hug each other close and try not to think of how this could be the last time the three of them are together.
“Wait for us,” Hyungwon mumbles into Kihyun’s shoulder, and he squeezes his eyes shut, tries not to cry.
“Better not be late, assholes.”
-
"I don't know about you but recently, there's been someone going around causing explosions all about Seoul. No offense, and mind my language, dear listeners, but how is this dickhead not dead yet? Also, what is he thinking, seriously?" Kihyun starts one day. It’s true - over the past week, Seoul has been wrecked by a series of loud explosions, terrifying in its juxtaposition against the normally silent city.
What’s perhaps more terrifying than the sudden explosions are the scuttling of Their footsteps, light and unhurried, towards the noise. He knows well enough by now to associate this sound with death, it doesn't seem possible to escape Them, not after They've heard you.
"You’re probably not listening, but you need to slow down," he continues, wrapping the microphone cord around his finger. He’s been broadcasting for about four months now, and has come to think of the studio as his second home. "Whatever you're trying to achieve, I’ve no idea how you're still alive but can you please think about the people who may be living near the buildings that you're blowing up? What if they get caught in your crossfire? How can you account for their lives?"
As he speaks, he feels that little pin-prick of guilt start bubbling up again. How many people has he doomed because of this broadcast? How many have accidentally tuned in, trying to get an emergency radio signal, only for his dumb voice to give their location away, to get them picked off by the senseless swarm?
"Think before you act, I don't know what you're trying to do. I’d like to give you the benefit of doubt and believe that you're an intelligent person since you've survived for this long too, but just give it a bit of thought alright?" It’s embarrassing how his voice cracks a little. He feels like a child again, trying to talk his way out of something bad his teacher's caught him doing. Kihyun laughs, it comes out a little cold, a little bitter, and he doesn't like the way it sounds.
Although, to be fair, he doesn't like how a lot of things in the world sound like now.
"That's enough lecturing for today, Kihyun out."
-
Despite what he may have said on his broadcast, he's curious and the one thing he hates is feeling like someone knows more than he does. So he does what any logical person would do in his situation, he goes out exploring. It’s hard to pin down exactly where the last explosion was at, but Kihyun figures he can walk towards the general direction of the next blast, and hope he comes across some fresh rubble that seem to match the intensity of the noise.
So when an explosion goes off the day after he makes up his mind to investigate, he takes a deep breath, reminds himself hey, you've made it for this long so far, what's the worst that could happen? (the answer is decapitation and unimaginable pain but who's keeping track) and sets off in the direction of the loud sound. As he runs, he's careful to avoid stepping on debris, cautious of tip-toeing around broken glass and scattered autumn leaves. There’s no telling how far away any of Them may be but he's not going to take any chances.
He runs as quick as he can, as quick as he dares - through the empty streets and quiet neighbourhoods. This road is a familiar one, it's the path he used to take towards his university and he tries not to let his thoughts wander down that route. There’s no point thinking about where Minhyuk and Hyungwon may be.
It's silly but he thinks he would know if something had happened to them, that the universe would send him a sign. Because as long as the two were together, they'd be alright. He has to believe that, he would go crazy if he doesn’t think this to be true.
Perhaps it's because he's lost in memories, running on auto-pilot, that he lets his guard down. Because when he turns the corner, he suddenly finds himself face to face with two of Them. He can feel his face turn pale, and it takes all his courage to remain standing.
They don't seem to have noticed him, but They seem to be searching for something. Please please please don't have heard me, Kihyun freezes, stock-still, barely daring to breathe, and cursing his past self for thinking this investigation had been a good idea to begin with. You should have just stayed at the studio.
One of Them turns around, facing his direction, and he's so terrified he thinks he may just pass out. Surely, surely, They can hear his heartbeat, racing wildly, traitorous, and giving away his location.
I could run away - but no, he's seen what happened to people who tried to escape. Their footsteps are too loud, too easy to detect. He’d be cut down before he even had the chance to make it to the next street. It crawls closer, tilting its head slightly to the left and right as if trying to pin-point the location of something.
It sends out a series of clicks and clacks, and Kihyun remembers all the news reports discussing how They used a form of echolocation to compensate for Their lack of sight. I should run, I should run, Ii will. One, two, thr -
But before Kihyun can get his legs to move, the world explodes into noise and both creatures go crazy. They lunge towards a pile of rubble, Their scythes swinging wildly in the air, screeching as they do.
He takes this chance to dart away, sprinting into the nearest building and up a flight of stairs, bursting into the room that faces the street so he can keep track of where They are. They're still rampaging in the street below, and he realises that the sound is coming from the pile of rubble. It sounds like static, high-pitched feedback, the kind that happens when you put a mic too close to a speaker.
From up here, it looks like They're in pain. They're throwing their heads around, movements sluggish, screeching as They do. He’s never seen them like this before, but it doesn't make any sense. Kihyun watches breathlessly from the second floor, as the two creatures twist around, seemingly anguished, on the floor below.
After what seems like an eternity (but could have just been a minute or two, who can tell?), the two creatures run away. They sprint in the opposite direction, the pile of rubble (there's probably a radio or a set of speakers underneath, Kihyun realises that by now) still blasting that same high-pitched sound. "No way," he breathes out, watching Them dart down the street, racing as if their lives depended on it.
He pauses. It was almost as if this were a trap, luring Them in only to scare Them away. But to what purpose? Kihyun waits, whoever set this up would probably need to appear sooner or later to get their gear. He makes his way down the stairs, hiding behind the door, in the shadows, not wanting to be seen before he can decide if this person is a threat or not.
Ten minutes pass, and Kihyun is starting to think that perhaps he's wrong, maybe this was a weird coincidence. He’s weighing the options - should he go back to his apartment tonight or go to the studio? The experience was so strange that he feels the urgent need to share it.
Maybe that's why he keeps going back, he misses that feeling of talking to someone. You’re pathetic, he tells himself, moving towards the exit when there's a flash of movement on the street.
It's a teenager, around his height, buried in a giant black hoodie, with a huge backpack. In his hands is a complicated-looking device, full of wires, that he's holding carefully. He can't tell if this boy is older or younger than him, but the way he carries himself is one full of purpose. Someone on a mission.
Kihyun watches as he bends down to sort through the rubble, eventually pulling out a set of speakers from underneath the wreckage. He dusts it off, but doesn't switch it off. This idiot has a death wish, Kihyun thinks to himself, just as the boy starts fiddling with his device.
Oh god, don't tell me he's going to set another bomb off right now. Before he can think about it, Kihyun barges out onto the streets and with a strength that he didn't know he possessed, grabs the boy by the back of his hoodie and hauls him backwards into the building.
Possibly because he's caught by surprise, the boy freezes up, and lets Kihyun shove him into the empty room - which, the survivalist part of Kihyun’s mind can't help but note as extremely counter-productive to staying alive in an apocalyptic world full of dangerous creatures and desperate human beings.
"What the fuck do you think you're trying to pull?" It’s hard to sound aggressive when you're speaking at a volume barely above a whisper, but Kihyun figures his death glare is enough to convey the depth of his meaning. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
They're face to face, and the device is still clutched tight in the boy's hands. The boy's mouth is set in a firm line, and he matches Kihyun’s glare with a steely look. Kihyun’s seen this look before - it's one that he sees and recognises in the mirror every day. That feeling of having nothing more to lose, yet not knowing how you can gain from sense of that giving up.
The boy doesn't say anything, just stands there, staring back.
"In case you didn't notice, I’m waiting for a fucking answer," Kihyun doesn't know why he's so angry, but he feels something akin to rage coursing through his veins. It’s funny because it's been ages since he's seen another human being, and he thought he'd be relieved and grateful to finally see another living face - but here he is, swearing his mouth off to a he's bodily dragged off the street.
There is another long long pause between them, before the boy finally replies, at a volume barely below a whisper, "I heard a rumor."
"What?" his answer comes out sharper than he intended, but the boy barely flinches.
"Of how to crush Them," There is venom in his words, and Kihyun has no doubt that this boy truly believes that he's figured it out.
Kihyun suppresses a snort. "Yea, I’m sure."
The boy rolls his eyes, "You saw what happened just now. But I don't really care if you believe me."
"Well, I care if you're messing up this city and fucking things up for everyone."
"What for? it's not like there's anyone left around for it to matter anyway," the boy shoots back, fierce, a touch too loud for Kihyun’s liking. In the few silent seconds after, they're both tense, trying to hear if any of Them had picked up on their conversation.
9, 10, 11, 12 - safe.
The boy blinks rapidly, hard, as if there's something caught in his eye, but he doesn't look away. For a split second, he resembles Minhyuk, in his stubbornness to back down for something he believes in. That dumb intensity in their gaze that proves that they'll stand up for their opinions until their dumb dying breaths - which in this case, literally it could result in this stupid dumb boy's dying breath.
Damn his soft tender heart.
"Follow me," he says, getting up and gesturing for the boy to come along.
For the first time in their conversation, the boy looks hesitant, as if thrown off by the twist in events.
Kihyun nods towards the door, "Well, I have a place where we can talk properly. Do you want to come along or not?"
The boy remains silent.
Kihyun rolls his eyes and shrugs, the universal gesture for suit yourself, and turns to leave.
It takes a few seconds before he feels the boy moving to follow him. This may be one of the worst ideas you've had so far Yoo Kihyun, but what's the worst that could happen right?
For the whole journey back, the boy lags behind him at a careful distance. Kihyun marvels at this boy's trust. How has this boy stayed alive for that long with such seemingly terrible life skills? He would never follow random strangers back to their hideouts. But then again, maybe he was the idiot, taking a stranger back to his own hideout. For all he knew, the boy could be one of those crazies that popped up in droves at the start of all this shit that sacrificed themselves and everyone else around them by screaming and screaming.
As they near the studio, Kihyun has the urge to blindfold the boy. Isn’t that what superheroes did when they didn't want you to know where their base was located?
He tilts his head towards the building, this way. The boy quietly follows, doesn't even seem to be looking around. Well, there's no turning back now, he thinks wryly, pushing open the door to the radio station.
-
“Here we are." They're inside the recording studio, with the door closed safely shut.
The boy startles, "Say that again?" His voice is deeper than Kihyun had thought it would be.
"I said, here we are."
The long walk back has helped him to calm down and now he no longer feels as pissed off as he had been back in the building. Right now, he's mostly just genuinely curious and very very tired. It’s been an incredibly long day and all he wants is just to go to sleep and revisit his favourite dream in which everything is normal and he's surrounded by his friends and family.
The boy's eyes widen in awe, and that's enough to make him look 5 years younger. Maybe I shouldn't have been that much of a bitch to him, he's literally a little puppy - and then stops himself from continuing that highly unnecessary train of thought. You’re just starved for human interaction.
"You - you're him, aren't you?" the boy asks. There’s something different about his expression, something open, hopeful even.
"I'm me?"
"On the radio," the boy presses on, miming a pair of headphones with his hands. "Kihyun - uh, Kihyun-ssi, every day."
For all his attempts at playing it cool, it’s impossible for Kihyun to hide the look of surprise on his face. "You know me?"
"It's hard not to when you're the only radio station still playing,” the boy has a sheepish expression on his face, and Kihyun is finding it harder and harder to remember why he was so angry with him in the first place.
"You tune in?"
"All the time." his answer is so unashamedly honest, and Kihyun can feel a blush creep across his cheeks. It’s such a cliched reaction that the cynic in him can't help but roll his eyes at how he's behaving. The first cute boy that he meets in this disaster movie of a world, and he's all ready to make heart eyes and trade couple necklaces. Come on man, control yourself.
The boy seems to mistake Kihyun’s silence for something else, because he hurriedly continues, "You can call me Changkyun."
"Okay, Changkyun-ssi, can you tell me what you were trying to do then?"
"My dad was - is a scientist. He was in America when it started, and he said they discovered something, a way to beat them." As he speaks, Changkyun seems to grow more confident and excited. It’s evident that this is something he's thought through, as if he's rehearsed this speech in his head many times. "Since their main mode of perception is through their hearing, what if we could interrupt that somehow? If their hearing is so sensitive, there are bound to be certain frequencies that could cause physical damage to them."
He has this careful way of deliberate way of talking, and Kihyun tunes out for a moment, content with just listening to the sound of another human being speaking. It’s been so long, I could literally drown in his words. It doesn’t help that Changkyun’s voice has this deep timbre to it, which maybe in another life, could have helped him be a DJ or an audiobook reader or something like that.
“Like I said, I don't care if you believe me or not. But you saw what happened there just now, didn't you?" Changkyun is looking at Kihyun expectantly, and Kihyun realises that he hasn’t registered most of what the boy was saying. Focus Kihyun, don’t be the dumbass now.
"No, actually, I didn’t,” he replies coolly, crossing his arms. Whatever Changkyun is saying seems to be too good to be true. How could a solution to this terror fall so readily from the sky? And if it were that simple, why hadn’t anyone discovered it yet?
Changkyun pauses, clearly not expecting Kihyun to be so doubtful. For all his bravado, it was obvious that he was hoping that Kihyun would agree with him. “Okay, I made this device,” he starts again, and pulls out the box of wires and buttons that he retrieved from the street before. “It’s a radio transmitter, kind of. Broadcasts white noise at different frequencies.”
“And you’re saying that this box is the solution to everything right now?” It’s hard to keep the scepticism out of his voice, particularly with how evident Changkyun seems to believe in his theory.
“Pretty much. I’ve been using it to test out different frequencies,” he toggles with the different buttons, as if tuning the device. “I think I just need a couple more weeks and maybe it’ll be perfect.”
Kihyun nods, more as a way to fill the silence rather than in actual agreement. He steals a glance at the clock (still functioning for some reason, although he’s sure the batteries would run out one day). It’s 8.45pm, way past the time Kihyun likes being out on the streets, particularly when street-lights no longer work. “Right, anyway, it’s getting late. Do you have somewhere you stay at, or…?”
Changkyun blinks at him, tugs at the strap of his backpack, looking almost nervous. “Um, all my stuff is in here.”
“Great, you can spend the night here then,” Kihyun says, the words coming out of his mouth before he has time to think through his proposition. Oh my god, what did you just say. The other boy’s eyes widen, and he starts to say something, but Kihyun cuts in, trying to sound more nonchalant than he actually feels, “It’s dark out. It’s fine.”
There’s a short pause, then Changkyun smiles, and Kihyun swears he hasn’t seen something as adorable in a very, very long time. Get a grip, Yoo, you’re being extremely embarrassing, “Thank you.”
He shrugs, “It’s no problem at all.”
-
It’s later on at night, the two having settled in at separate ends of the studio. In a moment of foresight, weeks ago, Kihyun had stashed a few sets of comforters, sleeping bags and blankets in the studio, on the off chance that he would ever need to crash at the station.
Despite the fact that sleeping at the studio would have been infinitely safer, Kihyun hasn’t been able to bring himself to fully move out of his old apartment. He knows it’s silly and superstitious, but as long as he’s still in the apartment, Hyungwon and Minhyuk would return to him, someday.
On the other end of the studio, he can hear Changkyun still fumbling around with his device. The volume is turned down low, but there’s the soft hum of static in the air. It’s incredible to think that that could be the answer to this goddamn apocalypse, but Kihyun can’t bring himself to believe it. Hope is a scarce resource in this dying world, and he can’t spend it on silly ideas from strangers - no matter how endearingly passionate they may seem.
They had exchanged little words after Changkyun accepted the offer, with Kihyun speaking only to show the boy where the blankets were, and where he could rest. It’s funny because Kihyun had imagined he would end up chatting non-stop with the first person he meets after months of being alone, yet he feels tongue-tied, awkward after the spontaneous invitation.
He takes in a deep breath, and calls out from across the room, “So what are you, five?"
Of course, you couldn’t start the conversation like a normal friendly human being.
“Excuse me?” Changkyun sounds more confused than affronted, evidently not expecting Kihyun to speak to him, and definitely not expecting that to be what he chooses to break the silence with.
“Given your complete lack of distrust for strangers and your love for loud noises and explosions, it's very difficult for me to believe that you're any older than that." This is exactly why Minhyuk and Hyungwon say you’d have been friendless without them.
Changkyun scoffs, but there’s a joking lilt to his reply, "Are you this rude to people you've just met?"
"I'm just stating facts."
"I think I liked it better when I only heard you on the radio. You're too harsh in real life."
Kihyun snorts, but there’s a smile forming on his face.
"And for your information, I'm 18."
"Wow, a real baby."
"We're the same height."
"That's hyung to you."
There’s a deliberate pause in the conversation, as if Changkyun is weighing the odds of what he’s going to say next, “You can’t be older than me. You’re a hamster.”
“What?" Kihyun sits up sharply, turning to face Changkyun. There’s a triumphant glow around him, as if he’s just won an argument.
Changkyun raises his hands in surrender, but cocks his head to the side, smirking. “You mean, no one has ever told you that before?”
“Brat!” Kihyun takes a pillow and flings it across. It hits the younger boy squarely in the chest, and he topples backwards in surprise, shrieking as he does. Perhaps it’s because he would have never imagined such a strange strange sound from the boy or perhaps it’s because this entire situation was just ridiculously ludicrous, but Kihyun bursts into uncontrolled laughter.
A beat passes before he hears Changkyun join in, and now they’re both laughing, even though honestly, there isn’t really anything to be laughing about. But now that they’ve started, it seems like they can’t stop. And as Kihyun’s doubled over, wheezing, for the first time since the world’s ended, he thinks maybe there’s still some beauty in this world.
-
“If you don’t have anywhere to stay, you can always crash here,” Kihyun says the next morning. Somehow or other, they had ended up chatting most of the night away - the laughter having broken the ice. “I don’t think they allow minors to stay on their own anyway.”
“I’ve been doing fine, haven’t I?”
“I don’t think stalking around back-alleys and blowing things up count as fine, but sure,” Kihyun replies, although every cell in him is screaming not to let the boy go off on his own. But that’s not entirely out of the ordinary - Minhyuk and Hyungwon did always say he had a bad habit of parenting and nagging anyone around him. “Besides, if you stay, you get to see how a Yoo Kihyun radio show goes.”
“Really? You’d let me watch?”
“Wow, when you put it that way.”
“Hyung, please! I’m a child,” Changkyun’s face falls in a pout and his sentence ends in a whine. Kihyun feels his heart literally skip a beat - yup, totally, totally ordinary behaviour. He knows it’s not wise to grow attached to someone (a stranger, to be exact) so quickly, but he can’t help it.
Changkyun is cute, he’s easy to talk to, and smart. Honestly, so smart - from their conversation the night before, he’d learnt that the boy had been in America with his father for a while, skipped a whole bunch of grades before coming back, and was already a year into a double degree of Engineering and Literature at Seoul National University.
Engineering and Literature? Honestly, who even does that.
(“They’re both about the appreciation of languages, just in different forms,” Changkyun had explained, at Kihyun’s incredulous expression.)
He would be intimidated, if it weren’t for the fact that Changkyun also knew all the steps to TWICE’s Cheer Up (something he enthusiastically demonstrated after very little prompting), cried at least 7 times the first time he watched Kimi no namae wa, and once threw up after eating too many chicken wings at a speed eating competition.
“So you admit you’re 5?”
Changkyun narrows his eyes at him.
“Yea, but sure, you can sit in on a show. Maybe if you behave yourself, I’ll even let you say something on air.”
“If I behave myself, huh?”
“Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“I’m sorry.”
And just like that Changkyun becomes a part of the Yoo Kihyun show, although to be accurate, he becomes a part of Yoo Kihyun’s life. He sits in most radio shows, usually only saying hi, uh, this is Changkyun again, wow, the weather is great today, huh? or venturing into a bad joke if he’s feeling particularly adventurous.
“Please excuse the baby, he hasn’t learnt quite how to speak yet,” Kihyun smoothly carries on, ignoring the squawk of protest from the other end of the the table.
It’s strange how easily they fall into a routine: scouting for supplies in the morning, their boots careful and soft on the ground; radio show in the evenings; talks late into the night, both light and heavy, feeling like they’re the only two people left in the world, despite desperately hoping that they can’t possibly be.
“Do you think we can ever go back to the world from before?” Changkyun whispers one night.
“I don’t know, it seems impossible that we ever would. But I’m glad I found you.”
“That was incredibly cheesy.”
“Yea, that’ll be the last you see of me ever trying to be nice.”
“Aww, you know you can’t resist me.”
“Are you wriggling your eyebrows right now?”
“Why? Oh my god, does that turn you on?”
“No thanks, I’m not into children.”
It takes two weeks before Kihyun is ready to show Changkyun his apartment.
Before this, they’d spent their afternoons apart, Kihyun waving the younger boy off when it was 1pm. He had thought it would be difficult - all those remnants of his old life, the constant reminder that he still doesn’t know where Minhyuk and Hyungwon are, but Changkyun just puts an arm around him, and waits with him, sitting in the barren room until it turns to dusk.
“I know they’re still out there somewhere,” Kihyun says, in the dark, later that night. It’s hard to even imagine a world where his two best friends aren’t around anymore, and Kihyun feels a nameless terror seize him. “It’s just - ugh, it’s so like them to be this late.”
Changkyun shifts closer. It’s been a few weeks since they’d pushed their sleeping bags together, sleeping side by side now. “They’ll find you, don’t worry.”
“I miss them so much.”
“I know.”
Of course, there are also days they don’t spend together.
Kihyun would be lying if he didn’t admit that those days feel fairly emptier than the others. Sometimes, he hears explosions off in the distance on the other end of Seoul - and he counts the seconds, his heart racing, feeling so nauseous he thinks he’s about to throw up, until the boy comes back, dusty but safe.
The words are always on the tip of his tongue what are you doing, please don’t do anything dangerous, you don’t need to prove anything but Changkyun’s eyes are always bright with victory when he returns, and Kihyun can’t bring himself to say anything to ruin his mood. So he avoids the topic and says nothing.
After all, silence is good, silence is golden.