Work Text:
1918
Yoochun opened his eyes with difficulty, but as he did so, a splitting headache kicked in. He reached for his head as though to stop it, but the pain just intensified. And so he remained still, afraid a small movement would cause him greater suffering.
Oh, he hated hangovers! He'd gotten accustomed to drinking moderately through the years to avoid headaches like this. But the thing was, he couldn't remember ever drinking last night, especially with the twins in bed with them.
Someone's harsh breathing caught his attention. "Oh Lord, I'm dying."
Concern rushed through him and before he knew what he was doing, he scooted out of bed, not caring about the aches in his own body, and pulled away the heavy cloth covering the bed.
A terrible stench assailed his nostrils.
Yoochun closed his eyes briefly, willing himself to stay focused. The man was in a bad shape, his face and eyelids swollen, the stench filled the air so much like rotten meat. He wanted to ask if the man needed some help, but when the person's face went sour, Yoochun knew what was coming. But before the vomit hit the floor, a bucket was shoved in front of the man’s face, followed by the sound of retching.
Witnessing the horror, Yoochun felt like throwing up as well.
"Come on, ass-butt. No one's going to die on my watch. Wait, hold still. Mr. Walter, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Get your worthless no-good ass back in that bed!" Yoochun looked up just in time to see a pair of hazel brown eyes. He hadn’t been aware of her until she made her presence known with her thick accent and offensive words. And then the woman, after helping the sick man get resettled on his bed, rose to her feet and went outside, taking the bucket with her. “I swear to God, once this is over I’m flying back to France. No good can be found here.”
There was something familiar about this lady, who wore a grey dress under a white long apron, her nose and mouth covered by a white mask. "And you-"
Oh, when did she return? And was she referring to him? "...are going to make it too. I promise." Yeah, looked like it. It must be the voice or the smile. He couldn’t tell which.
It was when the sound of grunts and moans died down that Yoochun realized something was wrong. He wasn't in his bed or in his house. No Jaejoong and the twins! Something was telling him he was in a temporary ward set up like a hospital but why?
"You're doing it again." Lady White Mask said, she kept on talking but nothing was making sense to Yoochun until she called his name.
A sudden rush of emotion flooded his insides.
"W-wait… Jae, what the hell?"
"Will you drop it? I'm not playing Who with you again, luv. It’s tiring, we’ve gone through this before, you know.” It caused an odd sensation in his stomach when he caught the sadness that flashed in her eyes. “Now stay in bed and shut the curtains, if you don't want to be infected by any of these disgusting sores.” And she went out again without looking back at him.
Brows knotted in a frown, he did as he was told. "Weird dream," he muttered before lying back and closing his eyes.
Sometimes later, when he woke up, he'd be in a completely different setting.
***
1856
The sound of the bell and a nudge to his side pulled him back from his thoughts.
"I need everybody's attention! Alright, listen. As you all know, a letter came down yesterday with news of Lady Josephine's visit, and it is to be by the end of next week. Our Ladyship is delighted to hear of them coming and asked everyone to make this rare occasion one to remember. Now, now. Hurry up and make this place pristine and spotless as ever!"
Yoochun couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd gone and visited old buildings in different parts of Europe but this enormous mansion took the cake for being the most elegant and grandest he had seen so far. He ran his fingers over anything he could touch, lightly and with care. How could this dream felt so real, so genuine and fucking awesome? It was like he'd been brought to some popular English period drama, letting an ordinary man like him experience the majestic feel of living under the royals and aristocracy.
"My dear, it won't clean itself." A warm, calloused hand grabbed his arm. "Dallying over matters not of import is no-good at this time. You must hurry before Mr. Ramsey notices your lack of effort." And she then handed him rugs, brushes and dust pans.
Yoochun looked over his shoulder to see the handsome woman ordering the servants around. She might be old but her movements were so graceful and precise, it was a sight to see her work. Suddenly, a deep, authoritative male voice spoke behind him, "A new recruit, I assume. We haven't been introduced, I am the Head Butler, George Ramsey. And you are, young lady?"
Young lady? Who was he referring to? It couldn't be him for obvious reasons but as he was to reply, the old woman appeared back at his side, her gentle hand reaching for his own.
"Mr. Ramsey, my bad. I should have come to you first thing this morning, but work has kept me since yesterday. This is Ms. Alby, our new maid."
Mr. Ramsey nodded, taking in his form carefully. "Beauty does run in your family, Mrs. Davenport. I may have to re-assign her as a personal maid, if need be."
"You flatter us, Mr. Ramsey. Thank you and please do, it would be an honour to serve any of our Ladyship."
Could it be that Mrs. Davenport and he were related?
His suspicion was confirmed when Mr. Ramsey talked how his Mother and her older sister, Alice Clifford, now known as Mrs. Davenport - the Head Housekeeper - had worked under him some decades ago.
The scene changed quickly and finally, the day of Lady Josephine's arrival had come.
Yoochun found himself lined up in the foyer for a formal welcome to Lady Emma's important visitors with the rest of the staff. Honestly, he didn't know what to expect but the moment a handsome young lad descended the carriage, he just knew what he wanted.
Him.
The gentleman was the epitome of good blood.
Yoochun could tell he only wore the finest of fabric, from his tall silk hat, the cravat adorning his neck, to his white tuxedo shirt and moss green vest. Beneath, black trousers were tucked into square-toed boots. The dark tailcoat suit and the pocket watch hanging from his front vest pocket completed the look of a perfect gentleman.
Mr. Perfect turned to take a woman's hand as she came down the steps, but as soon as Yoochun saw her, hope he wasn’t aware of having, died.
The lady was ethereal.
Her skin was pale, a mark of gentility. A sign that she came from an upper-class, unlike him who was obviously tanned from working in the country. Another woman came down after her, the same moment the occupants of the other carriage moved outside in time to be greeted by Lady Emma's enthusiastic hug.
The women’s dresses, of varying colors, were very elaborate and of high-quality. The detailed hats, which was a symbol of style statement and authority for the ladies, down to their stocking undergarments and gloves were probably made from velvet, satin or cotton. How could women of this period wear six pieces of clothing, layered all together? It must be so stifling.
But seeing it was a dream, weird things were bound to happen.
One moment he was just greeting royalties and then next, someone was kissing him, needy and heartbreaking.
"Please stop. Are you forgetting you are fixed to marry Miss Margaret?" Yoochun extracted himself, albeit with difficulty, from the man's hold.
But the gentleman pulled him back once again, burying his face in the crook of Yoochun's neck. "I am, my dearest Nicoleta. But will you please elope with me, instead?"
I want to! Yoochun cried inside. (But when did he become Nicoleta?) "I can't accept that, Mr. Hayes. We must not do such wrong, not to Miss Margaret!"
Jude MacLeod Hayes, the future heir of Westmount Lordship through Lady Josephine's daughter Miss Margaret, sighed in distress. "I have the right to choose my own bride. And it's you, my luv."
Yoochun had decided though, he just hoped he made the right one. "We cannot be. Forgive me, but I must decline your affections and wishes. It's impossible." And left without taking a backward glance at the man who was his heart's desire.
The loss of the love he greatly treasured had affected even those closest to him. "Seeing you so broken is causing me pain, a pain of your own doing. Breaking ties with him isn't a solution at all, not when I am certain, my good friend, of the love Mr. Hayes have for you, and you for him."
"Oh Amelia!" Tears rolled down Yoochun's cheek as he watched the soon to be married couple drive away from Lady Emma's Manor. "There can be no doubt in my heart that I do! But I'm afraid he is not destined for me. Perhaps never will be."
***
1790
Yoochun wondered what was the reason for a dream like this. There must be some meaning behind to a dream that took him from one era to another.
He was just serving his Ladyship not a minute ago but when he'd gone back to the kitchen to fetch her tea, everything had completely changed. Gone were the wealth and refined things he gotten used seeing, in its place were the sound of swords clashing and voices of people he didn't understand. This time though, he was just there, in the crowd, watching a lone man against three other... samurai?*
What the hell! Was he seeing this right? Did he travel another century back to the past? Although bothered, Yoochun pushed his feelings away. This is just a dream anyway, he thought.
But things were different here.
He suddenly missed the grandeur of St. Clare's Manor, the voices of Mrs. Davenport and Mr. Ramsey in the morning and most of all, Mr. Hayes. It was weird how he was missing a person created by his mind, who was only a figment of his imagination. But even more odd was that the feeling of intense love the girl had for Mr. Hayes was like loving Jaejoong all over again. It was wrong to others, forbidden in the eyes of the Lord and just deemed impossible on all levels, but love was love. It was never wrong, and not to be questioned or ridiculed.
Yoochun was proud of the love he had for Jaejoong. Always would be.
He had almost forgotten the exchange between the men, becoming aware of how two of the challengers were now bathed in their own blood on the ground, that the last samurai had run to save, not his life, but to save face. The large crowd dispersed and went in different directions, as though the duel didn’t happen. *
The ronin, who seemed to be in his 30’s, then turned to leave. Yoochun just hoped that whatever possessed him to go after the man, whether instinct or curiosity, wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake.
“If you’re going to follow me all the way to the neighboring magistrate’s office, then at least walk beside me. I do not want to mistake you for an enemy.”*
Although the man’s voice was cold and flat, he accepted Yoochun's presence cordially. And so, albeit slowly, he walked forward, falling into step beside the man. Neither of them, however, spoke a word as they walk.
Things escalated after that. Although they started as strangers, as they spent more time together, their relationship gotten even better. But unlike his previous dreams, this one was more a flashback of memories, and though everything happened in fast-forward, Yoochun recognised the places and people they encountered as they travel around, even the little occurrences along the way.
"Kusano-san, will you teach me how to fight?"
"You're not fit to fight, boy. Forget it."
"Kusano-san, we need to find a shelter before the rain pour downs on us!"
"Then run and take refuge under the trees, I will be right behind you."
"So tell me, Kusano-san, why are you travelling alone? Don't you have a family somewhere? And where are we heading?"
"I have no Master, and family? I heard they died when I was little, I have no memories of them at all. And well, we're heading North, to where exactly, I have not decided yet."
"I can do any work, you know. I’m not as frail as you think.”
"Hmm, we’ll just have to see about that."
Yoochun’s brows slammed together, “I don't understand. I thought you said you like having me around, then why are you giving me away?”
Kusano-san deep set eyes regarded him passionlessly. "It's for your own good. You'll be safer under the Emperor's care. You don’t have to worry, I will visit you frequently."
He felt the corners of his mouth quiver, his vision blurring. If Kusano-san noticed he was about to cry, he gave no sign.
“Emperor Minamoto is waiting, hurry up.” But when he didn’t move, Kusano-san urged him forward with firm pressure on the small of his back.
“You’re the only family I have, now even you are going to leave me.” And then he ran outside, with no care of the direction he was taking.
It seemed like half a year had passed since Kusano-san dropped him off to the Minamoto household. At first of course, he hated the man. But like he had promised, he visited Yoochun, though Yoochun declined meeting the ronin for the first two months of his arrival.
Emperor Minamoto had been nothing but good to him. He learned that the Emperor lost his only son very early, at the age of 15, just two years younger than Yoochun’s age. His daughters, although all good fighters, were not strong enough to rule a huge clan. So Emperor Minamoto was delighted to hear Kusano-san had found a perfect heir for him. He treated Yoochun like his own, gave him everything he needed and taught him the art of fighting. And for the first time, he felt wanted, cherished, loved.
Kusano-san was right all along. Being here was good for him... And so when Kusano-san showed up for his monthly visit, Yoochun gladly met him.
He tried to steady his nerves by staring straight ahead. This is foolish, he thought. It was just Kusano-san, the same man who was shabbily dressed and boring. Yoochun caught his bottom lip between his teeth, he couldn’t seemed to calm himself even if he tried hard, especially not even after Kusano-san walked into the room.
Holy Mother of Sin. Who was this respectable, gorgeous looking man? This couldn’t be Kusano-san! His skin was so fair and smooth, almost like his travels out in the world had never occurred. His hair looked silky and long, and was tied in a ponytail, with all the shorter frontal hairs falling across his face, the color as dark as midnight black. He wore a walnut-brown kimono with black hakama, the long and short swords he always carried thrust into his white obi at his left hip.
“I’ve imagine the surprise on your face, but seeing it firsthand is priceless.” The chuckle that came after was like a melody to his ears. “I know, I know. You haven’t seen me dressed up...nicely, but since I’m meeting the future Emperor, I put on my special clothes.”
Yoochun’s face cracked, and soon a hearty laugh resounded all throughout the Imperial House. Unable to control himself anymore, he pulled the man in a warm, welcoming embrace.
“I missed you too, dear.” He heard Kusano-san mumble right to his ear. Maybe a shiver ran down his back, his body and through his soul because Kusano-san’s arms gently tightened around his. And it felt so good.
“Will you stay here for a few days? I want to show you around!” Yoochun said after a while.
Kusano-san smiled, his eyes shining and bright. “I’d love that.”
Something wasn't right though, Yoochun wondered again. How could a dream like this be so real? An unfounded fear slowly crept inside him, these people didn’t exist, they weren’t him and he wasn’t them! A dream, just a dream! he consoled himself.
“Yuchun, are you with me?” The Emperor’s concerned face alarmed him.
“Ahh, forgive me, Father. What were you saying again?” He replied, shaking his head a bit to clear his mind. Only then he noticed where they were, at the Emperor’s favorite fishing spot.
The Emperor, however, didn’t pry or ask him what was wrong.
Silence stretched between them, until Yoochun couldn’t take it anymore. “Is there something you want to talk to me about?”
Emperor Minamoto didn’t answer right away, but when he did, Yoochun was left with overwhelming emotions.
“You see, I asked Kusano-kun for a favor, to help me find a successor, but I didn’t truly expect him to find someone suitable for the position. But then I received his telegram, informing me he had found a candidate. He spoke highly of you, son." The old man paused to take a breath. "We exchanged telegrams after that, that's why I know about your family, and it just strengthened my desire to meet you, for we both lost someone so dear to us. And so I asked him to come quickly, but that didn’t happen as soon as I liked. Because Kusano-kun hesitated in handing you over.” He paused again to look at him straight in the eyes. “He cared for you so much, that it temporarily blinded him of reasoning, but that same concern for you was what has brought you here now with me. Kusano-kun wanted you to have a family, he said you’re better off staying with us, giving you comfort in life and the love you deserve. But I wasn’t aware I was taking his happiness away, and that it would hurt him to be separated from you.”
Yoochun couldn't understand what he was feeling, no words could exactly describe adequately.
“Yoochun, if you wish to be with him, you’re free to do so. But I want you to know that you’re still my son and this is your home.”
***
"Yoochun, come on baby. Don't do this!"
Hearing the sudden distress in Jaejoong's voice alarmed Yoochun right away. His head turned in every direction, searching for the man he loved, but he couldn't see anything.
But then a familiar voice called his name.
"I thought of bringing you some expensive alcohol but I know nothing beats drinking soju with radish kimchi. So come here, join me."**
Yoochun swiveled around, shock etched his face. "A-abeoji?"
It was indeed his Dad, standing on the same spot Emperor Minamoto occupied not a while ago. What was more shocking, Yoochun knew this place. It was the first and only fishing spot his Dad had brought him to when he was a kid. God. Why hadn't he realized this before? Fishing had always been their time, that's why he liked doing it, just sitting there and spacing out, his own way of meditation.**
This was probably the reason he created Emperor Minamoto in his mind.
"You're almost there, son. But not exactly." His old man gestured to the seat next to him. Yoochun took it without hesitation and hugged the person he still missed.
They talked for a bit just like old times, updating the other of what was happening in their lives. Yoochun covered everything, from his Mom, Yoohwan and his successful career and then his own life. Telling his Dad that he have his own family now, with Jaejoong…
He didn’t know what to expect but he was glad there wasn't an ounce of disgust or shame on his old man's face. His dad just smiled at him, nodding his head. "I know, and I would love to meet your kids. They're both lovely girls, as expected of you and Jaejoong."
A swell of pride blossomed at the pit of his stomach, but before he could reply, his dad beat him to it.
"I’m happy and proud of you, son. And I wish there’s more time for talking but you see, Yoochun-ah… This isn't just a dream, everything you went through are real. I've been following you around."
"Abeoji," he cleared his throat. "You're not making sense."
"Then let me ask you something. How do you see Heaven? Are there little angels and clouds and God to welcome you? Do you think there is this Heaven’s stair that everyone talks about? How about the souls that have died? You see, humans created that conception but in reality, we all have our own little personal heavens.*** What you've seen so far, those aren't just dreams, son, those are your past selves. Moments so dear to you, you considered them your treasures." His face must have showed strong disbelief, so his dad added, "Why don't we try to look around first?" The old man rose to his feet, abandoning his fishing gear. And with a firm hand on his back, determinedly propelled him up to walk.
"Let's take this corner for example," and as they did so, there was a change in scenery. Suddenly they were outside a nursery room, and then there he was, bundled in a white and blue cloth. "Seeing you for the first time was one of my happiest times." They didn’t stay there for long and instead, turned to the other room, where they were instantly taken to the year he debuted. "It was one of my proudest moments, seeing you on that stage, making your dreams come true." They roamed and opened more rooms, all leading to his Dad's heavens but after a while his old man said, "Do you see now? There are a million of doors out there, and there are dozens for one person.*** You've already seen some of yours, actually."
"Mine? Wait, those dreams?" Yoochun asked, more curious than before.
"You think a person can only live one lifetime? I've been around for centuries, and maybe you've been around longer than I."
"Are you saying we're being reincarnated? That I might have lived all those times?"
"Too bad most of us don't remember when we are reborn, but I think there are some who do."
And now that his Dad mentioned it, he recalled the last words Emperor Minamoto passed to him, about going after Kusano-san. It was like having the same kind, yet different, conversation with his Dad before he died. He said about treasuring those who mean most to him, like his Mom, Yoohwan, Jaejoong, Junsu, his fans, but mostly the one who he would spend the rest of his life with.
Ahh, this talk was making his head hurt. But wait, it felt like he was missing something… Yoochun stopped in his tracks and asked, "But I don't understand, why am I here?"
"You already know, deep down, the answer to that." was his Dad's simple answer.
As though Yoochun wanted to prove something, that this was a mere dream and nothing but his mind tricking him, he started opening doors, but all he saw were exactly what his Father explained. Memories of his time spent with his family, the moment he told his Mom she and Yoohwan can finally come home, that they would be together again. The time they made a successful return as JYJ at Tokyo Dome, when they won the lawsuit, when the twins were born. And in every door, there was Jaejoong, his Jaejoong.
"To think those are just some of your present self's heavens." his Dad said matter of factly.
"S-so... Am I..." Yoochun didn’t want to say it out loud but, there could only be one reason why he was here with his father.
"Dead?" The old man shook his head. He grabbed Yoochun's shoulders and stared at him with the same unconditional love he remembered. "But you will be if you fail to find the right door back. And I must remind you son, don't ever go after the Lights." Then he pushed him away, in the direction they hadn't taken yet. "You will know the door when you see it. Good luck son. Give my love to Yoohwan and the girls."
His vision blurred, his heart aching. He didn’t want to leave his Dad just yet, why can’t they have more time together? But knowing the hurt Jaejoong and his loved ones will feel when…
"Do something please! Yoochunnie, hang in there. You hear me?!"
Jaejoong!!
And without delay, Yoochun took to his heels, in search of the door that will take him back to Jaejoong but as he run, an overhead Light came after him. Not my time, you fucker!
As he tried to locate the door, Yoochun started to remember what had led him here.
He recalled watching Jaejoong braiding Yoobin’s hair, witnessing the satisfied smile on his lover’s face as he set Yoobin down but not before kissing her chubby little cheeks. He was outside with Yoomae, playing with the dogs, but excused himself for a bit to check if his other princess was ready to go.
The twins had grown bigger and beautiful, now 5 years old, both having started nursery school, even topping in their classes as young as they were.
"You should always do my hair, the other one is lazy and messes up the braids."
Jaejoong's lips quivered at the corners but he controlled himself. "That's Yoochun appa to you, young lady." A smile stretched on Yoochun’s face. Among the twins, Yoobin was most sensitive about her looks, it was like hearing Jaejoong complain he was getting older, thus the wrinkles. "I don't hear Yoomae complaining about that."
The younger twin ran in front of the mirror, looking at herself. "Ohh, Mae-yah, the dork. Unkempt hair doesn't really bother her." She then swirled around, testing the swing in her dress. When a sweet-angelic smile surfaced on her face, Yoochun got an uncanny feeling he was looking at himself.
"Go get Yoomae and appa, tell them we’re ready to leave." He heard Jaejoong say. Yoobin nodded before walking, gracefully, outside the room like a princess that she was.
When Yoochun was sure the girls were outside and the dogs kept them busy, he tiptoed his way to Jaejoong and snaked his arms around him. "So, how should we break the news that they’re going to have new baby brothers or maybe new sets of sisters?”
That was it! They were going out and not just some place but to visit his Dad’s grave. But when the girls said they wanted to pick flowers and food for grandpa, Jaejoong decided they should shop for a bit. Yoochun told them he’d be waiting in the car as they got everything they needed for the visit. Then at last, after waiting half an hour inside the car, he finally saw them coming out of the store.
“Yoochun, you’re not coming with us. Not when I promised the Emperor of your safety.”
“But these are also my people, I need to protect them!”
“Fine! But stay as close as possible to me.”
That’s when it happened.
“Will you promise me, you’ll watch your back?”
“How about we watch each other’s back?”
“Okay, but please...”
At first he didn’t see the car approaching, too focused on watching his family from afar. It seemed like the driver lost control of his car, luckily there was little traffic but... he looked over at where Jaejoong and the girls stopped for a quick buy in front of an ice-cream truck, and with quick intuition and reaction, he pushed down on the accelerator as hard as he dared. There was no time to warn them, Yoochun just knew he needed to stop it before the car caused them injury.
It was a battle between samurais and skilled warriors from the neighboring clan. Soon, there was so much blood and death around. Kusano-kun and he started fighting back to back but as the combat stretched, they got separated. Once his side won, his men ran to help the other samurais, while he ran in search of Kusano.
Yoochun had been in several minor car accidents and all accounts were scary, but his car was well equipped with safety features. Maybe there would be burns on his chin and neck from the airbag and a seatbelt bruise but aside from that, he thought he would be fine.
The bodies of his fallen comrades, with their blood-soaked kimonos, lay on the ground. Yoochun couldn’t help but shed a tear, for they had been all good to him. Kusano-kun once said to him, “The sword of the samurai, as you know, is a possession valued higher than life itself, and if you touch a samurai's sword you touch his dignity.”* Seeing how his men held their swords very close to them, was enough evidence of how hard everyone fought and kept their dignity intact until their very last breath.
It happened so fast, but it felt like he was watching the accident in slow motion. Their cars slammed into one another. For Yoochun, there was nothing more awful than the sound of metal crumpling, of glass shattering, squealing tires and Jaejoong’s cry. He thought it would end there but something went wrong, although his airbag deployed and he was mostly safe from any trauma, the car kept moving, dragging his own and other cars parked on the side. And now his head was bleeding and he was beginning to feel himself slowly slipping into unconsciousness.
Yuchun couldn’t explain how happy he was to see Kusano again, and although he acquired little cuts here and there, he was still standing, giving his all to defend a clan he wasn’t even part of. Though he thought highly of a sword, it wasn’t the weapon for him. Bows and arrows was essential for distance fighting, and that was how he helped his men and Kusano against the skilled warriors. The enemy was slowing down and Yuchun could feel their victory coming. Pleased, Yuchun ran towards Kusano, calling his name. There were still a couple of fighters left but Kusano knew they could handle themselves and placed his sword back on his hip. The relieved smile on Kusano face was enough to bring happiness to his heart, but when horror marred his handsome face and a soundless scream came out of his mouth, Yuchun knew something was wrong.
Frantic voices swarmed around Yoochun, adding to the headache and soreness in his body. He could heard them yelling for an ambulance, asking around for a doctor or any medical personnel. Then there was Jaejoong, crying his name, holding his now unmoving hand. He opened his mouth to inquire about the girls, but was not sure if his voice could be heard clearly but Jaejoong answered him nonetheless. They are safe, don’t worry and please talk to me, if you sleep, I’m going to be really mad at you. Maybe he smiled because Jaejoong was telling him, Yes baby, hang in there. Help is on the way, I love you.
Yuchun didn’t see it coming. He didn’t even feel the pain as the sword thrust deep into his chest, or the blood spurt out of his mouth. All he was aware of was the pain etched on Kusano’s face, tears wetting his soft white cheeks and the anger underneath his deep smooth voice. Kusano rushed to the attacker and with lightning rapidity, cut the enemy down with a mortal blow.* Then a gentle hand and warm body enclosed him a moment later.
“I told you to watch your back!”
“I’m sorry, I was watching yours.”
“You’re an idiot and now you’re dying!”
“At least I will be dying in your arms.”
“That’s the worst of all! What were you thinking?!”
“Death doesn’t always mean goodbye, luv.”
“Don’t say that, please.”
“There’s not much time left for me, I guess I’ll just see you again in the next life, Kusano Hiro-kun."
Yoochun’s body was shaking with tears. Everything that was happening right now was like a repeat of the past. He was out there dying while Jaejoong was holding his body until it turned rigid and cold. The twins would grow up without him, his Mom wouldn’t take this news well and soon would fall ill, Yoohwan would be left alone to nurse her and Junsu would carry the burden of the group. He didn’t want that, none of that. He needed to fucking find the door!
And like an answered prayer, a beautiful emerald butterfly with contrasting black wing margins showed up on his way. Taking that as a sign, he hurriedly followed it while the Light continued to go after him. Yoochun noticed they were nearing a cliff, yet there wasn’t any doors around. But the butterfly kept going and going, towards the deep ocean blue below.
It wanted him to go over the edge…
“Flat line, Doc.”
The Light caught up with him...
“Start CPR. Epi ready.”
He couldn’t seem to move his legs…
“No response. First Epi given.”
Now he was down on his knees, crying…
“Continue CPR, Defib ready.”
Then the beautiful butterfly surfaced again like saying... it’s now or never.
And so he jumped…
"I thought I lost you again."
“Not this lifetime, luv.”