Work Text:
And I’d choose you;
in a hundred lifetimes,
in a hundred worlds,
in any version of reality,
I’d find you and
I’d choose you.
— Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars
U-CODE U371-D10
TIME, 18:43
SOOBIN
Soobin knows they are done for before the battalion is even put to their knees by the enemy King, the rain sending pellets of water onto the silver backs of their armor as he and his brothers put in every ounce worth of fighting spirit they have left. It will be a fruitless effort, he knows and knows again, reminded as the strangled sound of Beomgyu’s scream dances through the air to meet his ear. Soobin lets out a grunt as he shoves his assailant down into the mud, driving his sword through the kink of the man’s armor, before he whips his head around, his dark hair almost slapping his forehead as it follows him. He finds Beomgyu in an instant — someone’s plunged his sword straight into Beomgyu’s shoulder, peircing through the weak point of his armor and protruding through Beomgyu’s back.
Soobin knows, long before the King puts them to their knees, that this is the end.
“Just stay awake,” Soobin whispers to Beomgyu by his side as the survivors are all rounded up, put in a neat straight row that extends unimpressively short. They look so pitiful, stripped of their armor and their pride. There’s a hatred brewing in Soobin’s gut, not only for the enemy King but for his own. He must have known they would be outnumbered and outskilled. He must have known they would act as nothing but a delayer of their eventual siege of the Castle. Lives, just thrown away needlessly — all because a selfish King couldn’t admit to defeat.
“Stay awake,” Soobin urges the man next to him again, noticing the sway of his figure. Red seeped down his body, coating his dark undershirt and pants until it shows at his feet. Soobin knows he won’t last much longer, not with such a gash, so he doesn’t know why he keeps pleading for him to stay awake. Beomgyu swore his life, just like Soobin did, yet Soobin never fathomed he’d be the one to watch it wither away.
“On your knees!” shouts one of the generals of the opposing army, the appointed leader of their captors. No one resists, everyone takes to their knees. Beomgyu almost falls, but Soobin steadies him all he can with his own bound hands.
“The King!” a herald announces, his voice obviously bred for such things. It pierces through the air, even jostles the fading Beomgyu a bit, and all eyes are on the parting crowd of soldiers as the aforementioned party finally makes his awaited appearance. He’s young, Soobin’s age no doubt, and Soobin is surprised to find the rumors true. He looks nothing like a King — not rugged enough, not cruel enough. His facial features are soft, his shoulders broad but round, his height the only possibly terrifying characteristic of him. His garb is simple, not covered with gold nor expensive fabrics one mind find on a King. Rather, everything in consideration, Soobin might have never even thought him a King if it weren’t for the pendant he wore that dignified him as one.
The sound of a thud next to him breaks him from his trance, training his eyes now on Beomgyu’s collapsed body next to him. Soobin wishes it would make a difference if he tried to help him, but he knows deep down he’d be dead soon, and so would Soobin. It would make no such difference what he did.
“Get up!” shouts a man, the difference in his armor telling Soobin he had more rank than a simple foot soldier. “You’ll address the King with respect!”
“He’s dead,” Soobin utters underneath his breath, the statement accompanied with all the clipped pain and sadness he could allow himself. Grief is a luxury he long ago signed away his rights to.
“Excuse me?” snarls the soldier, now taking a step towards Soobin. “Did I give you permission to speak?”
And Soobin knows not what possesses him to spit into the man’s face as he crowds his space, except that he wants to make sure they all remember him once they slaughter him as the one who made it difficult.
The man shrieks, taking a step back as he wipes widely at his face. The commotion catches attention of the King, who is many paces away from them, but Soobin doesn’t spare him a glance. Instead he locks eyes with the solider before him, now fuming in blind anger. He isn’t the one who killed Beomgyu, but Soobin lets himself feel satisfied that he bought his friend some revenge.
He tries not to show reaction, though, as the man draws his sword, rushing forward and driving it into his chest. Soobin holds his breath, the pain that blossoms something he never thought possible. It’s the end, he knows, as he finally lets out an anguished cry, the man retracting his weapon and watching him with a smirk as Soobin falls next to Beomgyu.
“What are you doing?!” comes a horrid scream, and Soobin feels someone picking him up, pulling him into their lap. He’s in so much pain he’s almost blinded, only holding onto the fact that it’ll be over soon, but he blinks, and a face comes into focus.
The King, tears in his eyes, brushing his hair out of his eyes as life seeps from him.
“Soobin,” the King whimpers, and for a moment something shifts. Soobin knows him, somehow. But he can’t quite articulate how. A name is at the tip of his tongue, his own shaky hand reaching up to brush upon the man’s face. Who are you?
Soobin never figures it out, because he is dead within the next second, limp in Kai’s arms, eyes falling shut for the last time. Kai lets out an aggrieved sob, bringing Soobin’s body close so that their foreheads touch for a moment.
“I’ll find you in the next one,” he whispers, and he starts again.
U-CODE U877-F7D
TIME, 09:16
KAI
Kai wonders, for perhaps an infinite amount of times, why he is the one who’s left to remember, and Soobin is the one who’s left to forget. No matter how hard he thinks, no matter how hard he tries to dig into the dark caraveens of his mind, he cannot remember a beginning, nor can he imagine an end. It has just always been like this — Kai finds a universe he hasn’t explored yet, finds the Soobin of that universe, and loses him just the same as the last.
He also cannot remember, usually, how he gets to each place. Like a dream, he’s suddenly just existing somewhere, memories and instincts and emotions of another Kai merging with his own. This time, he is a doctor, and he is visiting a small fisher’s port at the edge of what would soon be Busan. He’s been called because there was a mass outbreak of some sort of food-borne disease, most likely from the very fish the fishermen usually draw from the sea. As he enters the tent in which the town has quarantined all the sick in, the stench of death greets him like a red herring.
It’s then Kai knows he is already too late. In every universe he’s come across, Kai has found that he always finds Soobin just like this: just before his moment of death, just after the window of time passes in which Kai can save him. Sometimes it’s not as obvious as this one, where the bodies are literally laid out in front of him, and when that happens Kai thinks for a moment that he has a chance to make that universe different.
But he has yet to find that one — the universe where Kai saves Soobin, and Soobin finally lives.
He finds him on a cot on the far side of the tent, his unmistakable features demanding Kai’s attention even in their last few breaths. In every universe, Soobin has always been beautiful — even if Kai finds himself in a place where they aren’t quite human, or aren’t human at all. Soobin always stands out, Soobin always refuses not to be found, even if Soobin doesn’t remember that someone is looking for him.
Kai kneels beside the man’s cot, running his hands through Soobin’s close-clipped hair. Soobin stirs, his eyes peeling themselves open to find Kai’s. His skin is grey and clammy, and Kai can’t imagine he can even see him clearly through those unfocused eyes. But Kai smiles all the same.
“Soobin,” he whispers, and watches as the man’s chapped lips part, words trying to form against a swollen throat. Kai simply shakes his head, electing instead to let Soobin rest in his final moments, his hand still subconsciously traveling through his hair.
The moment passes, and Soobin is dead before him. Too late, all over again. He draws a quiet breath, reaching with his other hand to squeeze Soobin’s limp by his side. “I’ll find you in the next one,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a light kiss on his forehead. It’s still bitter, even if he’s done it an immeasurable amount before.
“This time it seemed like intervention wasn’t even possible,” Taehyun comments next to him, disgust laced into his words. “Does it?”
Kai shrugs, standing so he can look down at him. He’s seen millions and billions of ways that Choi Soobin can die. Some were easier than others to observe, like this one, while others it took every cell in his body to not succumb to the controlling, looming entity of helplessness and despair. Of grief a thousand times repeated.
“I would have not been able to regardless of when we got here,” Kai admits, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Unless we had gotten here before he ate the fish, but that would have had to happen at least four days ago.”
“Hmm,” Taehyun hums. “This one was really a doctor, then?”
“I suppose so,” Kai remarks, finally peeling his eyes away from Soobin’s body. “Things like this must happen often here — there are many memories associated with loss.”
He finally peels his gaze away from Soobin and turns in place to look at the rest of the tent, some people still kicking, others not. The memories of this version of Kai he is inhabiting tell him it was too late for all of them — if there had been a doctor closer, perhaps some would have made it. But they are beyond medicine’s capabilities, at least in this time.
“Do you think he remembered you?”
Taehyun always asks that question, at least when he ends up in the same universe as him, and Kai always finds himself pondering it. Did he remember him, this time? Or is this just another dead end? Just another universe where his fate is the same as the rest?
“I don’t think so,” Kai concludes, keeping his composure surprisingly well. “Prepare another u-code. I don’t want to stay much longer.”
Taehyun doesn’t respond, but Kai sees from the corner of his eye the man reaching up to his ear to tap their earpiece, a hologram forming before him as he begins to hunt for their next destination. Kai leaves him to it, electing to walk through the rows of the sick, stopping to provide comfort to the scared, promising to a child that his mother will come soon. It’s a natural action to him, in this body — this Kai is a doctor who truly cares for his patients.
“Ready,” Taehyun declares, and Kai turns, sees Taehyun waiting for him, and Soobin’s still body behind him. The next one, for sure.
“Okay.”
U-CODE U441-257
TIME, 24:30
SOOBIN
“I’m telling you, he’s staring at you.”
Soobin scoffs, twirling his glass of champagne wickedly in his hands. “Please, he’s just one of the Puma’s boys. If he’s staring at me, he’s doing a poor job at hand.”
“No, you fucking idiot,” Yeonjun hisses, his feathers ruffling off his cheeks. “He’s not staring at you like that.”
Soobin rolls his eyes, but decides to follow Yeonjun’s gaze anyways. He is right in his assumption that he’s one of the infamous Pumas — he’s not even trying to hide the branding on his neck, a crude impersonation of the animal his master had decided would be their lovely mascot. Soobin’s not a stranger to implants, especially at his parties — the Regency will do anything to take him down, even if that meant hiring out assassin guilds like the Pumas. It’s pathetic, really.
“What does he think he’ll accomplish, do you think?” Soobin murmurs, the taste of the alcohol suddenly bitter on his tongue.
“Don’t know,” Yeonjun answers, his cat-eyes following the boy as he weaves through the crowd. “I don’t think he had any intention of killing you.”
“And why do you say that?”
Yeonjun narrows his brow at him. “Are you fucking stupid?”
“Watch your mouth.”
“Fine,” Yeonjun huffs, crossing his arms. “I’m just saying, the Pumas aren’t amateurs. If he was going to kill you, he’d at least hide the branding.”
Soobin clicks his tongue. Yeonjun is right — unless the Pumas sent someone they’d picked up off the streets, this boy’s goal doesn’t seem to be to kill him. Rather, he would steal glances at Soobin every now and then, his gaze almost beckoning him over like some kind of enchantment. Soobin finds himself laughing lightly, the thought of being enchanted by an assassin certainly exciting. He’d had a second once, before Yeonjun, that came from a nameless system several hundred light years away, and could influence people’s minds without them even noticing something was wrong. It had certainly made infiltrating the Regency that much easier, until they shot him in the head.
“He’s coming,” Yeonjun warns lowly, his many limbs stirring in anticipation as Soobin wonders what to do with the approaching boy. As he travels closer, Soobin admits in a heartbeat that he is pretty. Tall, broad-shouldered, deep brown locks curling around his face, though his face is soft, as if he could not commit a crime even if his life were at stake. How would they mesh, an angel and the most wanted man in the entire universe?
“Greetings,” Soobin extends welcome first, holding his chin high to make sure the boy knows who he’s talking to. But he doesn’t seem swayed — instead extends a hand, his head jerking once towards the ballroom’s great floor.
“Join me in a dance?” the boy offers, and to that smile, Soobin can’t say no. Yeonjun leaves him with a smirk, and Soobin sets down his champagne on the table before he collects himself off.
Soobin knows now for sure he won’t kill him — many of his men are also in the crowd, surrounding him in disguise. Perhaps there are other Pumas as well, but it would be suicide to attempt murder here. As the two reach the center of the ballroom, hand in hand, the jockey switches the tune to something slower, a romantic waltz. What a coincidence.
“What’s a pretty boy like you doing here?” Soobin whispers into his ear as the two begin to dance, a clumsy three-step that the boy obviously doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter — Soobin enjoys the view enough to forgive the awkwardness.
The boy seems to contemplate, then draws breath. “Looking for someone.”
“Oh?” Soobin chirps, an answer he didn’t expect. “How may I be of assistance?”
The boy shakes his head, and Soobin notices for the first time that the boy’s eyes seem to have gotten lost in his, something deep and concerning wearing him down. Odd.
“What planet are you from?” he cracks at instead, leaning forward to whisper directly into his ear. “And don’t lie to me.”
It seems to shake him a bit, but the boy still remains calm. “Earth,” he answers, and Soobin has to stifle a laugh.
“I said don’t lie,” he spoke bitterly.
“I didn’t.”
“You lie right in front of me, Puma,” Soobin hisses, his patience becoming more scarce as the boy kept talking. “I destroyed Earth, ten j-years ago.”
The boy seems to know this — he doesn’t wear surprise on his brow, nor does he pretend to. Instead, he almost looks pained. Why?
“Soobin,” he whispers, and that certainly takes him off guard. “It’s me.”
Soobin halts them, letting go of the hand he held for the duration of the dance and taking fast grip of the boy’s wrist, squeezing it just enough for the boy to let out a small yelp.
“Do you know who I am?” Soobin demands, a low growl in his throat. The boy only nods, and Soobin smiles crookedly. “Good. So you understand what I’m capable of.”
“Please,” the boy struggles, motioning towards the giant iron doors that led to the ballroom’s antechamber. “Just come with me, I’ll explain everything.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Soobin mutters, wanting to laugh at how sloppy this Puma is. He resorts to pleading? Isn’t that below someone so highly-trained in the art of killing?
I suppose I should show him how it’s done, Soobin thinks gleefully, brandishing the knife strapped against his abdomen and wasting no time in pressing it against the Puma’s gut. He grins at the boy’s shock, watching the color drain from his face.
“Why don’t we go that way,” Soobin suggests, nodding his head towards the staircase to his left. It led up to the second floor full of private rooms, all of which Soobin had masterfully planned out to be perfectly soundproof. “I’ll show you how a real Puma deals with his… targets.”
“I’m not who you think I am, Soobin, please,” the boy continues to beg, but Soobin finds no remorse for the weak.
That is, until something shifts. Soobin. The way the boy had said his name triggers something deep within him, some foreign familiarity that makes him mildly uncomfortable. Has he met this boy before, somewhere, in his extravagant lifetime of taking and taking?
“Who are you?” Soobin murmurs, but it’s the last thing he manages to say before all hell breaks loose.
People begin to scream, the sound of gunshots ringing incessantly in Soobin’s ears, and he doesn’t have time to react to the way the boy’s eyes widen in fear at the sight of something behind him. He blinks, and suddenly white pain begins to dot his back, like paint splayed by a brush. He’s been shot before, but not like this. Bile forms in his throat, his ears start to ring. Or was it blood coming up? He doesn’t know, because he couldn’t stand anymore, falling forward into the arms of the Puma boy.
What had happened? He’s always on guard, always prepared to face the next failed assassination attempt. He can’t die, not until he rules the entire universe and beyond. What happened?
Soobin, though, begins to chuckle. There’s chants beginning to form around him in a swarm of sounds: Death to the Widower! Death to the Widower! It’s a funny name that everyone calls him, considering he purged indiscriminately. Anyone who stood in his way — man, woman, anything in between or neither — they all perish eventually.
But now so am I, he thinks bitterly. Death — he didn’t think he’d be greeting it so soon.
And all he can hear over the chants celebrating his demise is the soft, broken cries of the Puma holding him. What is he weeping for, he wonders? Why would an angel like him be weeping for a monster like him?
Silence.
“Kai, we have to go!” Taehyun screams, pulling on Kai’s shoulder. But Kai doesn’t budge, instead holds Soobin in his arms, rocking slightly as his tears fall onto Soobin’s face. The madness ensues around him, but only one thought crosses his mind:
What if I stay?
This Kai is a member of the most fearsome assassin's guild in the galaxy, and now he’s a traitor for not being the one to pull the trigger. They’ll kill him for sure. What happens if Kai dies in this body, too? Will it all be over?
“Kai!” Taehyun snaps, and Kai blinks, finally listening. “We’ll find him again. We have to keep going, or else we’ll never find the one where he lives.”
Kai sucks in an uneven breath. He’s right. They must keep going. For Soobin — for the one where he lives.
The u-code is already in place, his consciousness starting to slip away. So he utters the same words again, squeezes Soobin’s unresponsive hand, and leaves.
U-CODE U3DE-D97
TIME, 11:21
KAI
When Kai starts existing again, he’s in a classroom, seated towards the back, an unremarkable school uniform buttoned up neatly on his person. There’s textbooks littering his desk, and the chatter of fellow students filling his ears. High school — he’s back in high school. He doesn’t know if it even resembles what his was like, since he can’t even remember a normal life before this one. The classroom is bare save for a few announcements written on the chalkboard, reading of an upcoming festival, and a new arrival to class.
Kai scans the heads of students, his heart sinking a bit when he realizes Taehyun isn’t there. This isn’t the first universe he’s encountered in which Taehyun does not exist — in fact, it’s one of many. There are many where he himself doesn’t exist, where Soobin doesn’t exist. It’s all a gamble — though he always trusts Taehyun to land him in a universe where at least Kai and Soobin are real. Only once did he accidentally send to one where Soobin didn’t exist — and that was the worst of them all.
Hah, Kai thinks, straightening his back as the teacher enters. You send me to a universe where Soobin is a evil galactic conqueror, and then don’t show? Taehyun must know Kai will be upset with him for that one.
But then Soobin enters behind the teacher, and Kai shuts off his grievances in his head.
“Class,” the teacher addresses, a warm smile on his face. “This is Choi Soobin, and he’ll be joining us from today on. Please help me welcome him.”
A chorus of hellos bounce off the walls, though Kai’s too deep in thought to speak. In universes like these, where he drops a considerable amount of time before Soobin dies, he always has to think. How will he die? How will he stop it? Can he stop it?
They’re in school, for Christ’s sake. What will unfold here that will result in Soobin's death?
Soobin shuffles towards a seat conveniently besides Kai, the boy taking his time emptying his belongings into his desk. Kai watches him, drowning out the teacher completely. He feels compelled to reach out, to hold his hand just once —
“Hi,” Soobin says, Kai mesmerized by his voice, even now. “I’m Choi Soobin — though you probably already knew that.” He giggles, and Kai fights against the blood rush to his cheeks. “What’s your name?”
“Huening Kai,” he utters, fixing him the best smile he can. “My name’s Huening Kai.”
“Huening Kai…” Soobin repeats, seeming to roll over once or twice in his mind. But then his eyes begin to sparkle, turning so that he faces Kai completely. “Hey, I know you, don’t I?”
Something erupts in Kai’s chest, not quite excitement, but hope. He nods vigorously. “Yes, we know each other. We do.”
“Where did we meet…” Soobin trails off, his nose scrunching as he thinks. Kai wants to lean over and plant a kiss on his face. A lightbulb goes off, and Kai holds his breath. “Yeah, we met — “
He’s interrupted by the ravage sound of the classroom door being thrown open by blunt force, the abruptness causing a few students to let out small cries of surprise. Kai cranes his neck, watching as a student nearly body-slams the teacher at the front of the room, her limbs flailing around rabidly and her eyes deeply bloodshot. She lets out a high-pitched screech, the teacher screaming. Kai’s shoulders sag.
Zombies. Of course.
The classroom erupts into chaos as more rush in through the open door, several students near the front falling quick victims. Soobin seems stunned, but Kai doesn’t waste time. He shoots out of his seat, yanks Soobin up by his hand, and makes for the classroom’s back door, throwing it open with all the strength he has before he begins to run down the hallway with Soobin in tow.
“What’s happening?!” Soobin screams behind him, Kai’s grip on his hand unwavering.
“Zombie apocalypse, I think,” Kai huffs, his shoes skidding across the floor as he turns a corner. But he stops short, Soobin nearly colliding into him, when he sees a group of turned students waiting eerily down the hall.
“Shit,” Kai says under his breath as they begin to stampede towards them, knowing they can’t turn around because there’s a stampede behind them too. Shit, shit, shit!
“This way!” Soobin exclaims, this time pulling him along as he opens a door to the side, leading to a side stairwell. Kai slams it closed before the herd can reach them, back away slowly as he pants. They crowd the door like animals, their snarls clear as day as if they are right in front of him. Kai shivers. Some universes are easier than others — but he truly does not like this one.
The distant sound of zombies several floors below them prompts them to take the stairs up, their feet quiet and Kai doing his best to silence his beating heart. They can probably hear it through the walls, he’s convinced.
And his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when suddenly a zombie throws itself down the stairs from above them, landing right in front of Kai’s feet as they stop on a landing. Kai can’t help the scream that leaves him, frantically backing up against the wall as the thing tries to get up.
“Kai!” Soobin’s voice reels him back, and Kai sees him beckoning him through another door, hand outstretched. He takes it, letting himself be pulled along. There’s no time to close the door behind him this time — they simply run, down more hallways until they’re stopped by another hoard, boxed in on both sides.
“The classroom!” Kai shouts, spotting an empty one they could get it to if they ran as fast as they could. Soobin takes his directions without delay — they dash madly, zombies at their heel, until they finally reach the door. Kai slips inside first, hearing Soobin slam the door shut behind him. He breathes a sigh of relief —
Until something rams itself into his torso, knocking him to the ground. The air is knocked out of him, but the adrenaline makes up for it. The thing writhes against him, snapping its mouth as him like a rabid dog. Kai doesn’t even have room to scream, nor does he have room to think. Everything is just about keeping the monster at bay, keeping it away.
So his heart sinks when he realizes it’s being pulled off him, Kai letting out a gasp for air once the weight is lifted. But a part of him already knows what happens next — he sees Soobin dragging the thing away, his arm around its neck, towards the door. He watches helplessly as it manages to get its teeth into his forearm, Soobin’s piercing scream a familiar dissonant melody in his ears. Too late.
Soobin throws the zombie out of the room with a few disgruntled groans, slamming the door shut behind it and leaving the room entirely to the two of them. It’s silent, save for their crazed breaths, and the tears already forming in Kai’s eyes as he stands.
“I can’t watch this,” he utters to himself, already feeling nauseous. He turns from Soobin, reaching up to tap his earpiece. He’s failed again — there’s no point in watching him turn. Save himself that misery. But his hands are shaky, and he can’t seem to activate it properly. He curses, trying again and again.
But then Soobin’s hand is on his shoulder, turning him around, and Kai can’t find the heart to resist him. He faces him, a tear escaping his eye —
and Soobin kisses him.
It’s the last thing Kai expects, and it’s short and sweet, Soobin pulling away and Kai wanting nothing more than to pull him back. “Soobin…?” he says with a trembling voice. “Do you…?”
“It feels like I’ve kissed you many times before, somewhere far far away from here,” Soobin utters, his hands still gently caressing Kai’s cheeks. “But this is my first kiss, I think, that I can remember.” Kai’s heart breaks. He doesn’t remember, even still. But Soobin laughs brokenly, his own eyes welling up. “It just seemed like the right thing to do right now.”
He turns to leave, but Kai catches him, refusing to give him up. “Don’t leave me now,” he pleads, his knuckles white as he clenches at Soobin’s sleeve and as his voice almost cracks. “I’m so close, Soobin, I can feel it, what more do I have to do?”
An inhuman sound comes from Soobin, and longing is replaced by fright. Kai lets go, backing away slowly, watching as Soobin saunters towards the door, each step becoming more and more characteristic of the stampedes that followed them. I have to go, Kai realizes, trying to stifle his crying as he tries to activate another u-code again, falling to the ground against the back wall as Soobin changes in front of him.
“I’m sorry,” Kai whispers as he selects the first that shows up, Soobin not making it to the door before he’s turned completely. The thing lets out a screech, Kai squeezing his eyes shut as it echoes across the classroom. He’s as still as stone as Soobin turns around and lays eyes on him, his trembling finger hovering over the button that will take him out of there.
And he reminds himself it’s not Soobin anymore as it begins to throw itself at him, the world suddenly in slow motion. Kai lets out a breath, wiping his face.
“I’ll find you in the next one,” he tells the zombie genuinely, pressing the button hovering before him.
The zombie reaches him, but Kai is gone.
U-CODE UF5E-1E1
TIME, 15:01
SOOBIN
Soobin has imagined death before in many ways. He’s not particularly religious, and he doesn’t really believe in an afterlife. He believes moreso in the sentiment “you only live once, so make the most of it.” And so he has — as he lay in the hospital bed, surrounded by his friends, his family, children and grandchildren, he’d like to think he’s made the most of it. He lived a life without much regrets, besides maybe that he could have loosened up way sooner when he was younger. He chuckles to himself at the thought. He had a fulfilling career as a social worker, helping many more than he could count. Of course, he’d always wanted to be a singer — but in retrospect, he knew it wasn’t meant to be. He would still sing whenever he could, at karaoke nights at his favorite bar, to his granddaughter as she fell asleep.
He lived a life worth living, he knows. And he’s not afraid of death, not in the many ways he’s imagined it. He’s only thankful that it will be natural, and thankful that he won’t be doing it alone.
“Mr. Choi?” says a nurse, entering quietly into the room. Soobin smiles at her, his energy dwindling by the second.
“Yes?” says his son, standing from his seat on his bedside.
“Someone is here to see you,” she tells him, giving a small smile. “Says he’s a childhood friend of yours.”
Oh? Soobin doesn’t recall any such thing, but supposes that with age he’s forgotten many things. He turns his head as much as he can to see the man enter the room, familiarity blooming in his chest. He’s a man just as old as he is, though he seems to be getting around better without a walker than Soobin ever did. His face is set with a small smile, directed only at him, and behind all the wrinkles and sagged skin Soobin swears that face had been beautiful once, and he had been there to witness it. The darned old man brain of his — why couldn’t he remember who he was?
“Hello,” his son greets the man courteously, but Soobin waves him over, tapping his son’s thigh to signal him to let the man sit. His son seems resistant to the request at first, but eventually swallows his own reservations and gets up, helping the man settle into the seat afterwards. Soobin looks at him thoroughly — a childhood friend. He only had one of those, right?
“Soobin,” the man utters, his voice filled with more emotion than Soobin anticipated. But as soon as his name leaves his lips, it’s like a key is found to lock. Soobin smiles brightly.
“Kai,” he whispers, nodding his head against the pillow. “I do know you.”
“Yes,” Kai says, leaning in closer. “I’m here.”
Soobin chuckles again, reaching out his boney hand. Kai seems to understand — he takes it in his own, the sensation warm.
“I didn’t know when I would see you again,” Soobin tells him earnestly, feeling himself slip away slowly. “Where did you go?”
The truth is, Soobin doesn’t quite remember exactly who Kai is. But something tells him he was very close to him, inseparable. A lover. He recalls his laughter, his touch, his kindness, but it’s all so foggy. Perhaps in another life, he would have grown old with him by his side. Yes, he likes that idea.
Soobin closes his eyes. Perhaps dying with one regret isn’t the worst thing in the world.
U-CODE U496-9E1
TIME, 17:53
KAI
Universes do not typically bleed into each other, but when they do, it’s almost always because Kai is so distraught with emotion that he cannot leave one behind entirely. When he comes into existence in the next, his face is still wet to the touch, and he wears still the same grandpa-esque clothes as he wore in the last. He doesn’t bother to fix it — he’s in the midst of a crowded sidewalk, the sun beginning to set as rush hour begins. He feels a slight tug on his sleeve, and turns to see Taehyun beside him. The man gives him a nod, and Kai reciprocates the gesture. They then split, Kai knowing that he has more luck finding Soobin in this crowd with the both of them separate rather than trying to rummage through together.
He has to admit, this is one of the more frustrating universes he’s been to. Usually he’s always near Soobin, or at least has memory of him. This Kai, however, has nothing — whoever Kai and Soobin are in this universe, they are nothing more than complete strangers. It’s not the first time that’s occurred by far, but usually in that scenario Kai can at least see him. All Kai sees now are blurs of faces as they pass, gone in seconds before he can even register if he recognizes them.
This is hopeless, he thinks dreadfully, an insurmountable exhaustion dropping on his shoulders. Why did we come here?
“Hey, look!” someone shouts, catching Kai’s attention. The man is pointing up, at a building across the street. Kai follows his gaze, and can physically feel his heart drop to his stomach.
“Someone’s on the roof,” a woman murmurs, but Kai is already fleeing, dashing across the road and earning several irritated honks for the action. He comes away unscathed, somehow, on the other side of the street, ripping the doors open of the office complex and nearly slamming into the front desk. The receptionist flinches back, his face aghast.
“How do I get to the roof?” Kai demands, and the man points weakly towards the door to the stairwell. Kai nods, thanking him quickly, before he’s off.
He climbs two, three at a time, his lungs working overtime to carry him up all ten flights in probably a record amount of time. It doesn’t matter to him, though — because once he eventually makes it to the rooftop access, swinging the door wide open to let himself through, there is Soobin.
He’s perched on the ledge so delicately Kai holds his breath, his jet black hair whipping around as the wind swirls around him, almost taunting him. He glances back at the sound of the door creaking on its hinges, sees Kai, and shakes his head dejectedly.
“Don’t bother,” he mutters, Kai’s heart breaking at how defeated he sounds. Soobin takes an uneasy step, and Kai’s breath hitches.
“Wait!” he yells, taking a step forward. It seems to stall him longer — Soobin stops, turns back, and laughs unevenly.
“Why?” he fretted, wearing a desolate frown. “There’s no one left.” A pause, and the wind sings. “I’m all alone.”
“You’re not alone, Soobin,” Kai pleads, shifting closer still. “I’m here. I’m here, I promise.”
“And why are you here?”
“For you,” Kai breathes, his chests tightening. “I’ve crossed an infinite amount of universes, an infinite amount of realities, and I’d cross an infinite amount more, to find you again.”
Soobin’s face scrunches, water swelling in his eye. The way the wind makes him sway makes Kai’s stomach lurch, but he doesn’t dare make any sudden movements. “I know you,” Soobin whispers, a tear falling down his rosy cheek. “How do I know you?”
The truth is, at this point, Kai can’t remember, either. He can’t remember a beginning, can’t remember how they met nor any of their firsts, a honeymoon lost to the cacophony of multiverses he now held within him. Maybe he does remember the first version of him and Soobin, but just doesn't realize anymore. He is a multitude of many Kais now, just as Soobin is a memory with tenfold variations. He doesn’t know why or how they became cursed like this, why Kai is tasked with remembering, and Soobin is tasked with forgetting. All he knows is a feeling — a warmth, euphoria, love incomprehensible sometimes that even Kai finds himself overwhelmed. And it all leads to him — it all leads to Soobin. Every time, every universe. It’s always Soobin.
“We know each other,” Kai begins, inching closer, “like the land knows the sky. Like the light knows the dark, like the ocean knows the shore. We will always be that way, in every universe we exist, and I will always come find you.”
Soobin contemplates for a moment, Kai using his sleeve to wipe away a stray tear that escapes his own eye.
“If we are like this in every universe,” Soobin whispers, “then why do you keep trying to find me?” He laughs again, shrugging his shoulders. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just let go?”
“Because I love you, Soobin,” Kai professes, the words full of ache and longing and desperation. “I have loved you and will love you, every version of you, no matter how this ends. If this ever ends.”
All he can do is stand the several paces away from Soobin he is, with his creased brow and downturned lips waiting, waiting, waiting. He observes the words digesting in Soobin’s mind, cogs turning, hoping that somehow, this is the one. The one he has searched tirelessly for for a time even he can’t comprehend. No beginning, no end. Only now, the moment of truth.
Soobin blinks, lifting his gaze from the grey floor of the rooftop, to meet Kai. Something is different.
“Kai,” he utters, and somehow time stops. His tone is broken beyond belief, but this time, there’s something different: remembrance.
But then the wind picks up, and Soobin loses his footing, and he’s falling.
“No!” Kai screams, dashing forward. He throws himself out on his stomach, reaching out —
and he catches him.
“Soobin!” he calls, his grip on the man’s arm tighter than he could ever imagine. Soobin grunts below him, reaching out his other hand for Kai to latch onto. He does, and he doesn’t let go.
By the time he manages to pull him up, Kai is out of breath, but it doesn’t matter. Soobin wraps his arms around him, encasing him almost entirely, and Kai breathes him in, shock and denial and disbelief nearly consuming him.
“Are you real?” Kai whimpers into his shoulder, and Soobin only holds him tighter.
“Kai, I remember,” he cries, his entire body trembling. “I remember you, all of you.”
Kai lets out a disjunct sob, holding Soobin even closer. “I’ve searched for you for so long.”
“I’m sorry I took so long,” Soobin confesses, but Kai just shakes his head vehemently.
“No, I took so long,” he insists, only to be met with mirrored disapproval as Soobin pulls away. The man then tilts upward, planting a kiss on Kai’s forehead.
“I’m here, my love,” Soobin assures him, and Kai laces their fingers together. “I’ll never forget you again.”
And Kai smiles, smiles the first true, genuine smile in eons. Soobin is beautiful in every universe, he has known, and every Soobin he’s met has always reminded him somehow of the first, even if Kai can’t discern exactly what the first looked like anymore. But this one, the one before him — he steals his breath away with his gaze, his gaze now full of love, love, love. This is the one he was always meant to find, Kai realizes. His Soobin.
Kai leans forward, closing the space between them both expertly and like it’s the first time. When they meet it’s like a weight is lifted, his lips familiar, his touch like home. He lets it last as long as he wants, and when they pull away Kai can’t stop smiling. Their foreheads bump together, Kai wiping away the last of his tears.
And instead of his usual words, he finally utters the ones he’s been waiting to tell Soobin forever.
“I found you.”