Chapter Text
Regret.
Such a powerful emotion.
We often regret the opportunities we missed, or the mistakes we made, but ultimately, we learn and we grow, and we move on.
For most people, the errors we make along the way remain just that: unchangeable circumstances of the past.
But apparently, as Hongjoong and his friends would come to know, some mistakes are too great to walk away from.
So, let me ask: if you had a chance to remedy all of your biggest regrets, would you take it?
Hongjoong would.
*
The warehouse was cold, but this was nothing out of the norm. In fact, the abandoned building was always frigid after dark. Hongjoong had been hanging around here for almost a decade and could count on one hand the amount of times the building felt warm.
That is, until he started bringing Yunho.
Soon enough, Yunho’s company turned into Seonghwa’s. Then Wooyoung’s. Then San’s. Then Jongho’s. Then Mingi’s. Then finally Yeosang’s.
With them, came a sense of warmth. Not in the literal sense, but more so through the feeling of belonging that was enough to warm his heart on even the coldest of days.
But now, it’s as if their liveliness had never graced these four walls. Just like in the beginning, long before the company of his friends - no, his family - the warehouse is cold and empty. Only Hongjoong remains, crumpled in a ball, tucked away in the furthest corner of the building.
If Hongjoong were religious, he would pray. He didn’t want to be alone. Not again.
“Hongjoong?” a voice which sounded all too familiar but could not be placed, called out.
Hongjoong’s head shot up in a whirlwind of blue. In front of him stood a figure, dressed in black from head to toe. Beyond the wide brim of the figure’s hat and just above the edge of a mask, Hongjoong spotted an eerily familiar pair of eyes. Unable to place them and feeling perturbed by the familiarity, Hongjoong looked away.
“Who are you?” he questioned, staring just beyond the figure at the closed door of the warehouse.
“That is not important,” the figure responded, taking a step closer. Hongjoong flinched and through his peripherals, he saw the figure outstretch their hands as if placating a wild animal. They continued, “I am here to ask for your help.”
“My help?” the young man turned his attention back to the figure, uneasiness be damned. “What do you mean?”
“There is not much time,” the figure responded, reaching towards his belt to unhook something Hongjoong hadn’t noticed before. The object looked like an hourglass, but the sand inside appeared to be frozen mid air. The young man had never seen anything like it before.
“W-what is that?” Hongjoong asked, subconsciously moving closer as his eyes grew wide in curiosity.
The figure ignored his question, instead setting the hourglass on the ground between them.
“Your friends,” the figure began and Hongjoong could have sworn he heard their voice waver. “Do you wish to see them again?”
“Of course,” Hongjoong spluttered. “And I will. They’re not dead, we just…”
“Had a falling out?” the figure supplied.
Hongjoong’s eyes grew even wider, “How did you know that?”
“I know many things, Hongjoong,” the figure replied as a crack of thunder sounded outside. Had it been raining this whole time?
“I know many things,” it continued. “But above all, I know how important they are. Not only to you, but to the world.”
At this point, Hongjoong was sure he was dreaming. The figure in front of him was nothing more than one of those sleep paralysis demons that Jongho often joked of.
Important to the world? Sure, his friends meant everything to him, but they were merely eight high school boys. They couldn’t be important to the world when they were barely important to anyone but each other.
A hand atop his shoulder startled Hongjoong out of his stupor and served as confirmation that he wasn’t dreaming.
“The eight of you are a team. I can’t tell you the details, but I can offer you a second chance.”
Before the young man could even open his mouth to form a question, the figure continued, “Will you take it?”
Dumbfounded, Hongjoong didn’t know how to reply. As if moving without permission, the high schooler found himself nodding his head. If he hadn’t been paying careful attention, he probably would’ve missed the way the figure’s shoulders dropped in relief.
“Do whatever it takes,” the figure said, reaching a gloved hand towards the hourglass on the ground between them. Hongjoong watched the hourglass with heavy eyes, as the sand began to fall upwards rather than downwards. He was finding it harder and harder to stay awake the longer he watched the sand move.
The last thing he heard before he faded into unconsciousness was a whispered plea in a voice he could’ve sworn was his own.
“You must stay together.”