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The nightmares used to catch him off guard, but these days Minho can see them coming more often than not. Stress; overwork; small things that spark his memory — there are a couple different factors but the weather is the most obvious out of all of them.
Changbin knows to expect him on nights like these, when the fog settles like a blanket over dark city streets. Minho lets out a sigh of relief when he punches in the door code to Changbin's dorm room and steps inside. On his way over, every muffled noise and every flash of lights in the distance had had him jumping out of his skin, but now he can't help but feel ridiculous for letting paranoia get the best of him.
It’s comfortably warm inside, melting the last remnants of tension that cling to his limbs. His eyes adjust to the low light as he takes off his shoes and hangs up his coat in the little entrance area, and it’s only when he steps further inside that he sees Jisung already there. He’s sitting on Changbin’s bed with his back to the wall and his knees drawn up to his chest and gives Minho a tiny wave when he finally notices him.
“Hey,” Minho says, his voice soft as he pads across the room. “You’re here.”
“Mmh,” Jisung says, reaching for Minho without dislodging the blanket draped around his shoulders. “Skipped my last class.”
He looks tired and pale, but when Minho comes to kneel on the bed and interlaces their fingers he gives him a lop-sided smile and a kiss hello.
“Rough day, baby?” he asks and Minho snorts, because if Jisung is in a good enough mood for silly pet names then it can’t be all that bad.
“Terrible,” he says, leaving it up to Jisung’s imagination whether he means his day so far or Jisung’s habit of calling everyone and everything around him ‘baby’.
He has to let go of Jisung for a moment to settle down next to him, but then they’re pressed together, Jisung’s hand sliding back into his own and Jisung’s head coming to rest on Minho’s shoulder. Minho’s skin must be as cold as the winter air outside but if so, Jisung doesn’t complain.
“Changbin?” Minho asks, his eyes sliding shut as he lets his head fall back.
“Bathroom.”
Jisung’s breath ghosts against Minho’s neck as he speaks, warm air sending a shiver down his spine. He hums in acknowledgment, not bothering with words. The quiet is soothing, and he can feel the heat of Jisung’s body through every point of contact. Without even really noticing, Minho falls into one of the breathing exercises his therapist taught him: inhale, exhale, over and over again until he feels his heartbeat slow in his chest.
He could probably fall asleep like this after the long, exhausting day he’s had, but then there’s the soft sound of the bathroom door opening and closing, followed first by footsteps and then by Changbin’s low voice. “Hey, hyung.”
Minho blinks his eyes open when he feels the mattress dip next to him, looking up at Changbin as he settles down. He seems to be fresh from the shower, his hair wet and a towel slung around his neck, and looking at the weights set up across the room, Minho supposes he must have been working out earlier.
Changbin’s dorm room is bigger than most, so he has the space for that sort of thing. It still manages to look a bit cluttered but to be fair, about half of it is probably Jisung’s mess. Jisung has his own room two floors down, but Minho is pretty sure he spends more time here than in his own space. Not that Minho can judge, really. He came here too, after all.
Changbin knocks their knees together, grinning when Minho glares at him in response. The expression is a bit more subdued than it would usually be, but it’s still familiar. It used to be just the two of them for that first year after graduation, when everything was still too raw and new and Minho wanted nothing more than to be back at his cousin’s house half a day of train rides away. Their bad days didn’t always align but Changbin was there for him when no one else could be, and Minho tried to do the same for him in return.
It’s easier these days. With Changbin on one side and Jisung on the other, Minho relaxes back against the wall and lets his gaze drift, though, predictably, it takes only a handful of seconds to catch on the photographs that are tacked up around Changbin’s desk. Most of them are polaroids or photobooth prints, but there are also a handful of what Minho recognizes to be Seungmin’s work: landscape shots that Changbin has placed carefully in between candids and selcas, as if to remind him of home.
There's also a single tarot card on his nightstand — The Chariot, of course. It's beautifully painted; not quite a perfect replica of the one Minho can still picture clearly in his mind, but rather Hyunjin's interpretation of the description Minho gave him. He thinks he likes it better this way.
Hyunjin had been nervous when he'd handed each of them their cards, unsure of how they’d be received, but he needn’t have worried. Jisung for one carries his card with him wherever he goes, and Minho knows Seungmin would do the same if he wasn’t worried about damaging it. It’s a small but meaningful reminder that what they experienced was real; that they’d faced the end of the world and somehow, despite everything, came out alive.
For Minho it is also a reminder of the power that had once lain at his fingertips, and sometimes he misses Orpheus with an ache so heavy that it hurts. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say he misses everything his Persona represented.
For one short, terrifying, exhilarating year, Minho had a purpose. It changed him, irrevocably, and he doesn’t regret that. But sometimes he doesn’t even know who he is anymore.
The old Lee Minho, the one who was blissfully unaware of how it felt to hold the weight of the world in your hands, is someone he can never go back to. At the same time he isn’t sure how to move forward, now that he’s lost the single-minded drive that was forced on him by one life-or-death situation after another.
Still, Hyunjin’s careful reproduction of The Fool sits on Minho’s desk, right next to the group picture they took during his first Chuseok back in the countryside. Orpheus; his social links; the strength that it took to defy a goddess — he still carries these things within himself. Minho still has a purpose, even if he hasn’t quite figured it out yet.
Jisung shifts next to him, his shoulder pressing further against Minho’s for the brief moment it takes him to rearrange his legs. In some ways Minho still feels frozen in place, locked in a stalemate. Jijang is there in his dreams, caught in a myriad of blue lights: the two of them the only beings in a vast universe. But Jisung’s touch grounds him, as does the familiar timbre of Changbin’s voice as the two of them talk quietly among themselves.
Their presence is what helps him to remember that his friends came back to him, in the end. They’re safe, and that’s the only thing that matters.
When Minho finally tunes back into their conversation, the topic is a recurring one: Felix’s upcoming visit, which has been in the planning for weeks now. Jeongin wants to come with him, too, but apparently Chan isn’t quite on board with that yet.
“I give it two more days,” Jisung says, absently drawing circles against the back of Minho’s hand with his thumb. “It’s a miracle Channie-hyung has held out this long.”
“Yeah.” Changbin laughs, pushing one hand through his damp hair. “I guess we should start thinking about where Innie can stay.”
“They’re staying with you though, right?”
“Wait, both of them?” Changbin asks, confused. “I thought Felix was staying in your room?”
“Uuh, no?” Jisung says, lifting his head off Minho’s shoulder to frown at Changbin. “Your place is way bigger than mine, obviously he should stay here.”
“And sleep on the floor? Just give him your room, you can go stay at hyung’s place!”
Minho does like the sound of that, so he decides not to scold them for talking over him like he’s not here. Instead he pulls out his phone and starts looking at air mattresses.
It doesn’t take him long to find one that looks good, and once he’s hit ‘order’ he puts his phone away again, satisfied. He doesn’t tell Jisung and Changbin, content to let them bicker on. They’ll argue for a while longer, and then they’ll order food and stay up way too late, chasing out the thoughts and memories that haunt each of them in their own ways.
The outside world may still be shrouded in fog, and Minho might still see the goddess in his dreams tonight, but for now he has everything he needs. For now, he is safe.