Work Text:
August.
“Should I tell him?”
“Oh my god, no! ” Chenle whisper-shouted at him, his expression aghast, like it was the worst idea ever.
“But why not?” Renjun asked genuinely.
“I’ve got nothing wrong with people highlighting books, but what if Doyoung starts searching and frames us? I’d rather not go through that,” the younger said, giving him a look of finality. But his eyes betrayed his inner turmoils.
Renjun stared at the younger, trying to understand the situations forming in his head. Why would Doyoung, the student assistant on the Humanities floor, blame them for the highlights in the library books?
The facts are these:
One.
Renjun started reading books from the classics section on the Humanities floor. After a while, he started noticing that some books were highlighted when in fact, it’s common sense, common knowledge and common decency that you do NOT write, highlight, tear, fold or damage a library book in any way.
Two.
The Humanities section is the largest and has the biggest collection of books in the library. It follows that this floor also hosts the most number of students. So if Doyoung manages to somehow connect them to the … vandalization of the books, well, that’s just wrong??
“But, why do you think Doyoung would accuse us of the vandal if we reported it?” the older finally asked. Chenle only raised his eyebrows at him like that was the dumbest question he’s ever heard.
“Hyung,” he shifted in his seat so that they’re face to face, “we play Among Us every day, you should know that this counts as a self-report!” he explained seriously and exasperatedly, but it all just sounded dumb, to Renjun.
He let out a quiet giggle. Chenle is still a child , he thought fondly, looking at the younger again.
Chenle’s eyebrows are going to disappear at the rate he’s been raising them at him.
“What if I told another library assistant, then? I could go here when Doyoung’s not on duty?” he asked gently.
Personally, he has nothing against the person who highlighted the book, but his inner conscience is telling him that seeing the books marked is just down right wrong .
Still, Renjun smiled at him fondly and reached out to ruffle his curly brown hair. He could feel the younger’s gears turning in his head, but Chenle is tired.
“You don’t believe me, do you? Go ahead, tell Doyoung, tell someone else, for all I care. Just don’t run to me when he fines you for every book that’s been vandalized in that section,” he said, sulking a bit, and went back to his readings.
Beside Chenle, the afternoon sunlight begins to set, bathing them in a golden glow. Humanities was on the 5th floor, so the view outside the window overlooks their college plaza, buzzing with students. He smiled contently, grateful for the time he can allot to being a nerd in peace.
He looked at the book he was reading: Roald Dahl. Just like every other book he’d been picking up, this too, had a highlighted passage in the most vibrant of yellow highlighters.
“Dreams is full of mystery and magic . . . . Do not try to understand them. ”
▶▪◀
September.
Renjun knew when he entered the Faculty of Letters — which houses the liberal arts and social sciences students — that readings, and more readings , are inevitable. Being a Literature major, he has no other choice but to read , even if it meant reading non-fiction books and literature theories, which are just… the worst.
This year isn’t any better. They’re reading less and less fictional works and their classes are now trying to build their foundation in critical reading, which involves... reading .
Don’t get Renjun wrong, he loves reading. From his childhood days he could remember his love for books, fueled by the yearly book report they had to turn in during elementary. Yes, elementary. Three book reports a year.
As a child, it was daunting, it was exhausting, it was boring when they were given books that had no pictures or portraits to fill the pages. But, when he started to transfer from one school to another because of his parents’ work, making new friends in every school he attended became taxing. Instead, he found solace and comfort from reading books.
It’s how he decided that he’ll be a literature student. Convincing his parents was another story. But, all in all, it went great.
But now … he’s having second thoughts.
He thought reading was enough. He thought that he was at least one of the most well-read people in class. He even prided in himself in coming 45th among his batchmates in the college entrance exam. He thought wrong.
Renjun also thought that Literature was just about reading, memorizing authors, and creating good stories and plot twists. He was, once again, very wrong.
They read classics, most of which were written in an English that’s so old, he’s finding it hard to understand. Others were written in an age and context, that, if you didn’t know what happened during the cholera plague of the 1800s, finishing the book is a lost cause.
Literature is also not just about reading, it’s also about writing, which Renjun somehow failed to consider. How did he think he was gonna make money from just reading ? Most of his classmates, in any of his 8 classes a week, dream of being a renowned writer, or even a great writer.
Being a great writer, or even a good writer, entails that you are a good reader. But Renjun was none of that. He’s not a well-read person, much less a good writer. His dilemma is an endless cycle, but it all boils down to the fact that he’s inadequate, and he’s never gonna make it out of here alive.
If he does, he’s never gonna be successful.
His bubbling anxiety and self doubt is what brought him here again, in the corner of the Humanities section, with a book that most definitely was not in their reading list, but he’s reading it anyway for pure pleasure.
And, somewhere in the middle, he finds consolation in the highlighted lines, knowing it was the same person who highlights every other book in that section.
Who else would use neon yellow in the age of pastel colors?
“I think you travel to search and you come back home to find yourself there. ”
And tucked at the end of the book is a small notepad with words of encouragement.
Hello sunshine! You’re doing great! Keep it going! You’re talented, hardworking and valid! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise!
And perhaps, maybe just a little, he felt like this note was specifically for him.
▶▪◀
October.
It couldn’t get ANY worse than this.
For second year students, they have a mandatory elective subject, and that elective subject for Renjun is Academic Writing, aka how to write a thesis. Because this is a cross-block subject, they had non-Lit students in the class, mostly Political Science and Journalism majors.
Personally, PolSci students are too rowdy for him, too boisterous, like they own the class. Technically, they’re using the PolSci classrooms but still . Journ students on the other hand are… well-behaved, but their ego is limitless . They could talk about how their profession is noble, timely, and even relevant given the political situation right now in the country, but still, it beats PolScis who are both egoistic and loud.
Much to Renjun’s semi-distaste, their mid-term was by partner, and because Lit students were odd-numbered in this class, he just knew he would be the odd-man out.
“Huang Renjun?” Mr. Nakamoto, the professor, called out.
“Yes, sir?” he asked, raising his hand to get the prof’s attention from the back of the room.
“Lee Jen- oh, he’s partnered. Lee Donghyuck?”
Renjun was a bit late and missed the way the boy stiffened his shoulders in his seat, 2 seats in front of Renjun, in the far left beside the window, before the boy raised a timid hand.
It was that tanned boy who shines in the afternoon sun. The class was from 4PM-6PM on Thursdays, and Renjun sometimes couldn’t help but stare at the back of the boy beside the window as the sun set just to see him glow. In Renjun’s defense, Donghyuck was right where he could see the fountain outside, and if he wanted to stare at it, he had to look at Donghyuck’s back too.
They made eye contact after the professor nodded, indicating that Lee Donghyuck is partnered with Renjun.
Renjun offered a polite smile, and the boy smiled warmly back before he turned his back at him, and continued whatever it was he was doing.
…
He should have known that whatever it was he was doing, it was related to readings. There’s not one person in this damn faculty who isn’t bombarded with readings, may it be first years or fourth years.
The professors asked them to meet with their pairs and think about a topic that covers both of their fields. In this case, it should be journalistic and literary, which Renjun thought, is such a far stretch.
The boy however, Donghyuck, broke his thought bubble with a greeting too enthusiastic for addressing a total stranger.
“What is UP! Hi, I’m Donghyuck and you can call me Hyuckie, and you?” The boy said with the brightest smile and sparkliest eyes that he can’t help but mirror as the boy occupies the seat in front of Renjun. He turns it around so they’re face to face.
“Renjun,” he said, smiling, still amused. Renjun, after all, is a simple man.
“Okay, Junnie, so watcha wanna do?”
▶▪◀
November
“I’m telling you, Chenle, these books were highlighted just for me !” Renjun said exasperatedly, trying to convince the younger that he was being more than a hopeless romantic.
“Hyung,” he said, and maybe Renjun saw more than annoyance in his eyes: pity.
“You’ve been reading books that suit your mood, so of course the highlighted passages will feel personal to you.”
Renjun just pouts and Chenle thinks he can push it.
“And among all these books,” waving his arms upwardly, “how would anyone know what you’re going to read? That just doesn’t make any sense.”
The noise of the cafe they were eating at did not, in the slightest, damp the truth that he presented.
The conversation was prompted when Renjun told Chenle that he found a book at the desk he frequented in the library. Like the madman he is, he flipped through it and saw the usual highlight. This time, it said:
“But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares. ”
Hitting deep into his inner turmoils of whether he should still pursue Literature or not.
He had a funny feeling in his gut and looked around for who might be reading this book as well. He’s tried before to track if there’s any common reader between the books through the library card behind every book with no luck.
After his meal with Chenle, he went straight to the six-storey building as a new absurd idea struck him.
He wandered through every isle of the Humanities floor looking at students who could possibly have a neon highlighter. Surprisingly, there were many people who used the bright yellow marker, or at least appear to use them. Among the neon highlighters he saw on the tables, yellow was predominant, followed by orange and green. Mostly, he deduces, to highlight headings, while pastel colors are for others.
What came as a surprise was, at the other end of the library, he saw someone he thought he’ll never see in a place like this. Then again, you can’t judge a book by its cover. After all, even Chenle goes to the library.
He set the information in his head aside and went back to his table. In his hands, a highlighted passage says:
“But just because you can never reach it, doesn’t mean that it’s not worth looking for. ”
▶▪◀
The Research section of the library is the coldest, quietest, and least populated floor. There are at least 7 people on that floor, one of which is the student assistant. In a corner of their own, the two were researching the implication of children’s literature to hegemonic masculinity for their academic writing.
Here, Renjun can finally see someone use the notorious neon marker.
“You still use a neon yellow marker?” Renjun asked teasingly at Donghyuck. He’s come to know the boy a bit better after a few exchanges of messages.
Donghyuck looked up from Connell’s many researches and gave Renjun a look of surprise and fake offense.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s outdated,” he deadpanned and the younger fake gasps.
“The color of the sun is never outdated, how dare you.”
Renjun just shakes his head at that.
“This,” he said, picking up his gold mildliner, “is the sun’s color, not that abomination of striking mess.”
Donghyuck could only giggle, giggle , quietly in response, shutting his eyes, and scrunching his nose.
“Oh my god, are we really doing this?”
Renjun could only laugh quietly at that. He’s not the type to get easily distracted, but the mystery of the yellow highlighter and how the librarians have not found out about the vandalized books are living in his mind rent free.
Renjun dropped the subject and returned to his readings, smiling.
Saturday was the only day they were both free, but they agreed to still do their work individually.
Hyuck is so pleasant to work with. He was actually the one who suggested their topic, although, it was bare to nothing in relation to his program. He knows when to joke around and when to take things seriously (like now). Much to Renjun’s delight, Hyuck was able to burst and invade his limited social bubble.
Hyuck was so easy to get along with, it was nice having another friend aside from Chenle. He makes a mental note of introducing Chenle and Hyuck soon. Donghyuck, Renjun noticed, has this big brother energy. He would adore Chenle.
He’s distracted again, he noticed.
He let out a big sigh and dropped his head in the spread of papers in front of him. Beside him, Hyuck looked up and reached out a hand to ruffle Jun’s hair.
“It’s gonna be fine. Don’t push yourself if it's too much. Do you want to rest a bit?”
He whispered gently. Renjun turned shy at how much his partner cared, thinking he was tired with the research. Still, he took on the offer to rest.
They went down a floor and into the Humanities. Just walking down the isles in silence, not even thinking about their research anymore.
Once again, an idea struck Renjun.
He tried to walk nonchalantly to the corner of the library he claimed, Hyuck following just behind him. The older walked to where he placed the last book he read and reached for it.
He’s never done this before: go back to reread a book, not even the books that were marked. He was trying to make his actions look spontaneous and not at all like he was trying to frame or catch Hyuck red-handed.
He tried to flip through Norton Juster’s The Phantom Tollbooth, to where he knows a highlighted passage lies.
But it wasn’t there.
Renjun is now looking at the same exact passage, the bright yellow highlight at the edges only noticeable if you squint hard enough, otherwise the highlight was completely gone. He tries to steady the growing confusion and emotions inside him as he lets the information sink in.
“It’s been erased,” he said matter-of-factly, but tinged with sadness, which he hopes Donghyuck doesn’t pick up.
“But just because you can never reach it, doesn’t mean that it’s not worth looking for. ”
▶▪◀
Some highlighters come with an eraser, Donghyuck thinks somewhere at the back of his head, but Renjun doesn’t need to know.