Chapter Text
Stop and think about this for a moment.
When was the last time you made a wish on a star? Do you still remember what you asked for? And if so, did it ever come true?
The human mind may forget the answers to these, but like all insignificant things in this world, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Now, let’s try approaching this concept from a scientific rather than a philosophical inquiry.
For example, here are the sad but inevitable truths about shooting stars; they aren’t really stars, but meteoroids. Tiny lumps of rock and iron that orbit the sun before ultimately falling into the Earth. And in the time that it takes them to arrive, these meteoroids will burn out into a trail of glittering dust. Which means that before you even have the chance to whisper your deepest desires to them, way before you see them in the distance, and way, way before they cross the atmosphere, these shooting stars would already be dead.
Which means— there would be no point in wishing because the stars cannot listen.
But then again, wishing on a star is free. You would lose virtually nothing from it, and so, on the night of his twenty-second birthday, Kihyun Yoo, who always longed for peace and solitude, now prayed for a disturbance to come into his life.
🌌
“Listen closely, my dear students. Examine the nature of aretê. That is, as Aristotle calls it, the ergon of your eudaimonia! Happiness, contentment, fulfillment; it is the best kind of life, which is an end in itself and a means to live well and fare well—”
Kihyun suppressed a yawn as the professor animatedly babbled on and on about Ethics while his students paid absolutely no attention to him. With every Greek terminology that he threw out, Kihyun felt his will to study disintegrate more and more each time. He’s beginning to regret why he didn’t just get all his Gen Ed credits settled by his first year, and now he’s stuck here with an assortment of around a hundred other disinterested students in the lecture hall, most of them from the Arts & Humanities department.
Believe it or not, Kihyun wasn’t a slacker. He’s pretty smart if he says so, it’s just that subjects like these aren’t really his cup of tea. The class was so unbelievably draining that he found himself instead eavesdropping on a conversation around him.
“Don’t you think Mr. Kim is actually bald and is just wearing a hairpiece to cover it up?” A guy one row below Kihyun loudly whispered to his seatmate. Kihyun’s not sure whether he’s purposely raising his voice or he’s simply unable to control his own volume. However, guessing from his bold wardrobe choice, (highlighter green sweater, severely ripped jeans, and bleach blonde hair) he does seem to be the naturally loud type. When his seatmate ignored the ridiculous question, Loudmouth kicked at a long, gangly leg and exclaimed, “What, you’re actually taking notes?”
“Shut the hell up, Minhyuk,” the tall seatmate finally replied after one long-suffering minute. “I am not repeating a stupid Intro class. You, on the other hand...”
‘Minhyuk’ shrugged and leaned back into his seat. “Whatever, I’ll just copy your notes or something.”
“As if I’d let you.”
The professor tapped on his lapel microphone twice, the loud crackle redirecting Kihyun’s attention to the podium again. “Now, if you could please turn to page fifteen on your print outs—”
This time, the shrill ringing of the school bell interrupted the professor, and the students began to crowd out of the hall before he even had the chance to formally dismiss them. Sighing in silent relief, Kihyun slung his bag over his shoulder and followed suit outside. Every day, he went through the same old shit; wake up at the asscrack of dawn, make himself look half-decent, take the short metro ride from his flat to campus, power his way through all of his classes, go home, break his neck to put in some extra study hours, pass out. Wash, rinse, repeat.
He turned twenty-two a few weeks ago, and now he’s halfway through finishing his bachelor’s before fucking off this godforsaken place and heading to grad school where his life will really begin. The thing is, Kihyun is always alone. And that’s by choice— mind you. It’s quite a long story, but the short of it is that he fucked up majorly in senior high, hung out with the wrong crowd, and disappointed his family. Upon entering university, he vowed that he would wash his hands clean of his past misgivings and begin anew. He’d find his dream, become a successful somebody, and make the Yoo bloodline proud. Good plan, right? So, yeah, it might be just a little bit lonely, but at least he wouldn’t be a screw-up.
It wasn’t like anyone was tormenting Kihyun, but no one really paid him any attention in the first place either. In other words, he’s a recluse. But it’s alright, he doesn’t need anyone, that’s what he’s always told himself. Rather than living, he's simply existing.
A lonely star floating across the cold, dark universe.
🌌
“Let’s see,” Kihyun muttered to himself as he walked while checking the timetable on his phone, “the next period is vacant, so I still have an hour and a half...”
Around this time, the campus was essentially a ghost town. It was December when the temperature dropped to dangerously low degrees and cast an atmosphere that was so dreary that it drove away all signs of high spirits from the student body. Fall semester was ending soon and it was eerily quiet everywhere, just how Kihyun liked it. But today seemed to be an exception.
“Watch it!” he heard a pair of girls squeal behind him and shortly afterward, a series of thud-thud-thud s in rapid succession. Instinctively, Kihyun turned around to inspect the source of this sudden uproar, maybe to shoot a stink eye or two at the offender, because how dare they ruin his peace and quiet?
“Changkyun Im! Get back here, you punk!” a male voice bellowed, one that Kihyun recognized belonging to Professor Hyungsoo. Usually, he teaches Quantum Mechanics to Kihyun’s block, but currently, he’s chasing after this ditzy-looking kid who’s wearing a lab coat on top of his clothes and safety goggles pulled up to the crown of his head.
Obviously, it’s none of Kihyun’s business what kind of hooligan is stupid enough to stir up shit that would anger a senior lecturer, but the boy had the audacity to bump right into Kihyun as he dashed away. “Sorry!” he at least had the decency to yell out, although still laughing his head off and not even sparing Kihyun a glance. The boy was a hurricane, quick and devastating, and right then Kihyun suddenly understood why storms were named after people.
🌌
The campus courtyard was more like a hedge maze than anything else. Along the center, well-trimmed boxwood shrubs and benches of polished granite were arranged in a circular geometric pattern. It gave the courtyard a slight semblance of privacy in the open space. But Kihyun’s favorite spot was by the furthest corner, where the sun wasn’t blindingly bright, where it was all-natural, no paving stones, just green grass, and lush trees. When Kihyun has had enough of people, this is where he goes.
Although, he supposes he’s had enough of them every day.
Like he’s been wrung out and left to dry, Kihyun was sprawled out on the grass spread-eagled, squinting at the pale blue sky. Considering it was winter, no one else was outside, and Kihyun really shouldn’t be here too. The grass felt gross and spongy and cold instead of its usually crisp state but he just felt like he needed a breather, no matter what. That day, he ran into one of his old high school classmates, who endlessly pestered him to attend the reunion they were setting up. And during the whole ordeal, Kihyun almost boiled over from the pressure of it all because he didn’t want to involve himself with his so-called ‘friends’ anymore because he didn’t think he would even chance upon a part of his past again. To him, going back was the scariest thing that could happen. That his ivory tower could crumble as simple as that.
And crumble it did, when yet another stranger intruded upon his momentary fortress of solitude. Two days in a row. First, it’s the little lab coat kid and now, this. He can’t catch a break, can he?
"'Scuse me." The dark shadow that loomed over Kihyun was just as ominous as the voice that it possessed, and he found himself quickly scrambling to sit up when he saw its face. The stranger’s nose was bloodied, a congealing imprint of cranberry red ran from his left nostril down to his philtrum, almost dripping onto the lollipop stick trapped around thick lips.
“Can I help you?” Kihyun narrowed his eyes at the stranger. Now that he got a clearer look at him, he realized he’s not that intimidating even with all the caked-up blood. His face... It looked like a dumpling.
"Uh, my friend Changkyun, have you seen him pass by here anywhere?" Dumpling Boy scratched at a squishy cheek as he backed up to give Kihyun some space. “He’s about as tall as you maybe? Big fuckin' nose, cute as hell?”
Kihyun didn't know what else to do besides just stare. "...Sorry, what?"
Dumpling Boy sighed, deep dimples still popping out from his mandibles even then. He amplified his voice then started enunciating each word slowly as if Kihyun was A.) Dumb or B.) Hard of hearing. "Changkyun Im. Have. You. Seen. Him. Anywhere.”
“Well, I don’t really know who he is or where he went, for that matter, but— your nose is bleeding.”
“That’s precisely why I’m looking for him. The little shit elbowed me in the face and ran away like it was a fuckin’ thing to do!”
A wrinkle formed in between Kihyun’s unruly brows and that’s when he knew that his day was absolutely fucked, so he might as well just run with it. “Are you sure you two are friends?” he asked Dumpling Boy, who nodded insistently as if to convince Kihyun.
“Quite sure. We’re like the bro-est of all bros! I love him but he pulls this kind of shit sometimes and it drives me crazy. No wonder the professors are all gunning for his punk ass.”
Kihyun sits still for a while and wonders. “What did you say his name was again?”
“Huh? It’s Changkyun Im.”
Now this is too weird to be considered a coincidence. Kihyun gave a rigid shake of his head. “Nope, I really don’t know him, after all.”
Before the conversation could proceed any further, a routine shrill ringing flooded through the campus. Saved by the bell, once again. Dumpling Boy clicked his tongue as students slowly waded into the halls like delirious zombies. “Damn. I gotta run,” he told Kihyun, accompanied with an overfamiliar slap to his arm. “I’ll see you around, man. The name’s Jooheon, by the way. Don’t wear it out.”
Kihyun watched Jooheon, who was essentially not a stranger anymore, jog away without even waiting for a reply.
For the remainder of the day, his mind unconsciously cycled through what little information he knew about a certain Changkyun Im.
🌌
The odds of all coincidences are ultimately boiled down to probability.
In a way, numbers make it easier for us to grasp how and why the seemingly unexplainable can be explained. The fact is that anything can be calculated, there is no exception. For instance, the chances that Kihyun Yoo and Changkyun Im would encounter each other in a campus with a population of approximately 20,000 undergraduate students was 0.05 percent.
In short, Kihyun knew that they would meet again, just not this soon.
It happened after a particularly grueling class of Statistical Physics II. Their professor gave out problem set homework like it’s a dime a dozen, and while Kihyun has no problem with solving mathematical equations, it’s going to take a lot out of his plans of laying down and being absolutely pathetic on a Friday night.
Kihyun banged his fist on the shitty vending machine in front of him that threatened to eat the crisp dollar bill he inserted mere seconds ago. He hit it a few more times for good measure, and then it finally gave, dropping the beverage he purchased with a satisfying clunk. For such an elite university, they sure had a lot of these defective pieces of machinery lying around.
He had barely even opened the can of cold brew when something tightly gripped onto his ankle and Kihyun almost screamed like all hell had broken loose. But there were still lectures ongoing and that would get him in trouble, so instead, he looked down and was met with a puddle of boy.
“Thirsty,” the boy croaked out, half-crawling on the ground like that creature from The Grudge. Kihyun couldn’t quite see his face too since it’s obscured by the TikTok Eboy-esque curtain hair that he sported. (In his opinion, that atrocious haircut was the real horror of it all.)
“What in the actual hell...?” Kihyun muttered, because really, what other appropriate reaction was there?
The boy released his grip on Kihyun’s ankle only to tug at his pant leg, and said, in an almost faltering voice, “Hey, Canned Coffee Guy... Lemme have some of that.”
Kihyun frowned. Yes, he also made these oddly-specific labels to identify strangers, but it doesn’t mean that they should be said out loud. “First of all, it’s not Canned Coffee Guy. I have a name, okay? It’s Kihyun Yoo.”
And this… This should be the defining moment where everything becomes crystal clear, but Kihyun was left with more questions than answers when the boy raised his head and revealed his identity.
Isn’t he Changkyun Im?
“Okay, Kihyun Yoo. I’m Changkyun Im,” he replied, and Kihyun briefly pondered whether he was clairvoyant. Then Kihyun nodded. Like it made sense, like he hadn’t just met Changkyun’s friend yesterday, and watched him run a marathon against their professor the day prior. Because however calculated they may be, coincidences are still coincidences.
“You— what even happened to you?” Kihyun gestured to the unknown substances smeared here and there on the boy’s latex gloves and white lab coat. He was a mess, a weirdly unique and beautiful mess, but still.
Changkyun let off on Kihyun’s leg and sat down on the floor with the same candor as a five-year-old child, comfortably leaning against the vending machine. Weirdo. Kihyun would know, it takes one to know one.
“Oh, you know, sciencey stuff. Same old. We dissected some mice today. It reminded me of my childhood. And I know I look horrible, that’s what three hours of sleep does to you. Now, can I please have a sip of your drink, Kihyun Yoo?”
Kihyun chose to ignore that questionable comment about his childhood. “Uh, why would you want to sip out of my drink? We don’t even know each other.”
“It’s just a sip,” the boy absurdly reasoned. “Thought I had my wallet with me but I guess I left it at the lab.”
Okay, fuck. Kihyun gives up. He doesn’t even know anymore. "Take those off, at least." He grimaced, gesturing to the boy’s soiled garments. “It’s dirty.”
“It’s not dirty.” Changkyun wiggled his left eyebrow— which was pierced— in a disorderly fashion. “It’s Science. ” Though, he still slid his lab coat off, revealing a fit physique and a smiley-face tattoo on one of his bare wrists. His gloves were also removed, displaying all of his nails painted black, most of the polish chipped. Not exactly the kind of person one would imagine studying in the field of Science, but Kihyun’s a bit of an eccentric himself, so he shouldn’t really be one to talk.
“Take it,” Kihyun sighed, and thrust the unopened can of cold brew to this intolerable human being. He watched as Changkyun downed half of it, and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. The way his slender throat moves when he swallows should be fucking illegal.
“Thanks, I was ready to pass out at any moment but you really helped me out with this.” The half-empty can was promptly returned to Kihyun, and when Changkyun patted his hand, there seemed like an electric spark that ignited between them.
“You’re welcome, I guess. It’s not every day that a stranger extorts me for some coffee.”
“I did not extort you! I’ll pay you back when I have the chance, swear.”
“Yeah, yeah, fine.”
As discreetly as he could, Kihyun checked the lockscreen of his phone to see just how much time he’s wasted in this ridiculous situation. He still has five minutes left before his next class. And with that, he’s lost 50% of his caffeine intake and a chance to grab a quick lunch. Great.
Changkyun has somehow picked up on this and stuck out his bottom lip in an empathic pout. Oh. Kihyun hated that this little mannerism was even borderline cute. “Ah, sorry,” Changkyun said. “I’m not disturbing you or anything, right?”
Like a bolt from the blue, Kihyun remembered the senseless excuse of a wish he had made on his birthday. Seriously, what even got into him that night? It must’ve been the several bottles of pale ale he recklessly downed alone. Was he really that miserable after all? It was all a wreck, but still, he remembered very clearly.
—I wish for a disturbance to come into my life.
This is not what he fucking meant by that.
Kihyun gave Changkyun a tight-lipped smile and said, “No, not at all.”