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Sicheng doesn't know how long he has been in this universe. Personally, he'd ask for a better place if he ever met the Man in charge, though so far, so long he has never met anyone.
Yet.
The sky is always blue, the grass is soft to his bare feet (he's still not sure why he's barefooted, but he'll take it since the entire place doesn't really make any sense), the sun is warm, and the breeze always caresses his skin and hair in the nicest way. So yeah, despite the little inconvenient that he woke up a few weeks ago (eh? or is it months already? years?) in the very place that resembles his deathbed, Sicheng doesn't actually have a lot to complain for.
He often wanders around, visiting the places he missed the most —the trees, the cave, the lake, reminiscing the memories he missed the most —the old, the newer ones too, trying his best to embed his first love to his long memory term. Because he had lost it one, and he doesn't want it to ever completely vanish from his mind, from his heart.
Sometimes it's completely overwhelming, to be alone in a very much silent place despite the bird chatters, especially when his head is too full with the sounds he can't mute.
They said dying is peaceful, Sicheng begs to differ. Some days his heart is aching, it's aching too much for so many people, too many people. The people he can't ever meet again, let alone touch. Not when he doesn't even have any corporeal body in the real world. This nice little bubble apparently can't shield him from the ferocity of longing that has choking tendrils around his heart. Sicheng hates it, but he knows he rather stays in this nice little bubble that reminds him so much of a blood coated spear in his abdomen than to actually move on (or move up? well yeah wherever the afterlife actually is.)
Today, though, is actually a really nice long day. Sicheng has been imagining about Nine —about his family, what they are doing, whether they are okay, whether they are eating well, about Renjun. Sicheng hopes Renjun has been taking care of himself.
The sun is a little bit too bright, but the grass provides him a nice place to take a nap. With one hand supporting his head, he fixes his gaze to the blue sky above. There's some white fluffy clouds moving slowly with the breeze. Sicheng isn't really certain why he feels very content everytime he looks up at the blue sky, but he does, and so he does it every time he needs a little inner peace.
Sicheng doesn't feel it, doesn't feel the figure until someone gingerly takes a hold of his free hand. He freezes. There's supposed to be no one but him in this place. He dreads every second he takes to move his head to the side to see the new guest whose hand has taken a tighter hold of Sicheng's.
Brown hair, deep brown orbs, kind smile.
Sicheng does not register the tears that suddenly spill from his eyes and stream down his cheeks, he doesn't administer the way his hand squeezes the smaller's in a very tight hold. Because seeing his presence in this place, and the fond happy smile Renjun gives back to him already explained everything.
"Hi..."
"Hi—" Sicheng hates the way his voice breaks. God, he doesn’t even know that he still can cry until a few seconds ago.
"I miss you," it trembles, Renjun's voice, "God, I miss you so much, Gege."
"Are you—" Sicheng stops, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, "Are you okay?"
The grin that is sent his way is blinding, “I am, now. Don't worry.”
After a few moments of fond gaze and silent crying, Sicheng finally accepts the reality. There's nothing they can do now anyway. He moves his gaze back to the blue sky, admiring the view.
“Do you like it? The sky, I mean?" one of the voice Sicheng has missed so much finally pipes up.
“Of course, it's really nice to look at."
“I'm glad. At least, Yuta hyung's wish is granted."
“Yuta hyu— you know Yuta?"
“He took care of me, you know? After everything. I was being an ass for such a long time, but he still took care of me. He's my only regret dying." Sicheng can't stop the flow of water that spills from his eyes once again. It has been so long since he has heard Yuta's name.
“Is he okay?" he dares asked softly.
“Not really, but he's better." Renjun stops before adding an afterthought, "Well he's better until I got reaped." Sicheng doesn't respond at that. He doesn't need to know Yuta's state, unless he wants to hurt himself thinking about the man. And so he closes his eyes, trying to picture the man he had fallen in love with, that he is in love with.
Sicheng finds it easy to fall even harder for Nakamoto Yuta even after death tears them apart. He misses him. He misses Yuta so much. He has so much he hasn't told the guy, he has so, so much to tell Yuta —like how his heart can't stop aching at the prospect of them never meeting again, at the fact that he's here to wait for one particular person only even if it takes another 50 years, like how he wants to love him as he's supposed to be loved.
Sicheng wants to say he's proud of Yuta, so much, very much —for being brave, for moving forward. And thank him because he's so grateful that Yuta decided to take care of Renjun. God, Sicheng just wants to hold the guy one more time, one last time, and tell him how much love Sicheng has for his entire existence.
The gentle hand that wipes away the tear on Sicheng's temple startles him. He opens his eyes to a blurry view until he blinks rapidly to get rid of the excess tears. Sicheng is not sure on how much he has cried that day, but the tears already spill over again and a strangled sob comes out of his mouth before his brain can comprehend the beautiful view in front of him. There, so far away that Sicheng can never touch, is the blue sky with soft clouds. And then here, closer, with a hand still gently sweeping away the tear from his eyes, his hair softly caressed by the breeze, with a small smile, one that reached his eyes. There, standing above him, is the
Nakamoto Yuta.
His Nakamoto Yuta.
"Don't cry," Yuta whines and Sicheng chuckles wetly.
“I'm trying, is this real?"
“Yes, very much so."
"Am i wrong to be happy that you're here?" he asks again because that's so fucked up, isn't it? Sicheng is so awfully happy that Yuta is here, with him, dead.
“No, of course not. I am here, Sicheng, I'm here for you."
“Yuta it has been so long." Sicheng can't help but to cry harder, seeing the tears streaming down Yuta's cheeks hurts so much more. He deserve to be happy all the time.
"I love you. Nakamoto Yuta, I love you." Yuta can only whines, so Sicheng continues, "And I’m sorry, and I'm proud of you, and thank you. For everything."
"Do you— do you see it? The sky, I mean, that day?"
"No, but I've been seeing it every single second after, so thank you for that too."
“I love you." Yuta says it back because he realizes he hasn't.
“I know. We're here now, we'll get all the time in the world. For you, and me, and renjun. For
the three of us. For us."
“Okay." Yuta agrees.
"Okay?"
“Yeah, we have all the time in the world. Besides, I am home now." Sicheng smiles fondly at that, eyes absolutely overflowing with love and adoration.
“Welcome home."