Archive of Our Own

All Jisung ever remembers is a space of white.

It seems to stretch endlessly in all directions, without any beginning nor ending - with neither entrance nor exit. It is … simply a white space.

Empty. Void. Nothing.

There is nobody besides him in this space, forcing him to spend most of his time with his own thoughts. Only sometimes, flashes of a … 'different' world are entering his vision. But when he blinks, they are all but gone, and he's left with a lingering feeling of nostalgia and a longing for something he doesn't have words nor shape for.

Vague constructs - concepts is all he has as he breathes in his solitude, knowing that there should - that there must be more. But his eyes never reach as far, so he curls himself up and … tries to dream, within the lonesome of his own dream.

-----

When the black-haired boy first stumbles into the white, he brings with him a nearly overwhelming amount of impressions that Jisung doesn't dare to open his eyes for as long as he can hear - feel the other somehow.

He doesn't reply to the words of concern and confusion spoken to him, slowly making its way to be understood by the one who hasn't heard many voices outside his own for a long time. He identifies a tentative question - one that he never answers.

Who are you?

Jisung. He's - Jisung.

It's a mere name, but he doesn't say it - can't.

Only when the presence of another has left for a while does he dare to open his eyes, once more left with the stark nothingness of his dream. He buries his face atop his knees, hugging them as he sighs out loud, a sound that echoes.

The longing inside of him only grows, and he still has no name for it.

-----

He half-expects the boy to never return, to be a wondrous figment of his otherwise dull imagination, a cynical joke of his mind and a reminder that for as long as he can think, he only knows the colour white.

But his expectations are rigorously defeated when, another time, the black-haired boy stumbles into his empire of nothing, but this time, it's just him.

There are no memories flocking to him, as if the other is sharing the dull dream that Jisung dreams.

"Hey! Sorry if I was overwhelming you yesterday, I didn't expect to flop right into - well, whatever this is. I'm actually not sure, but … this right now is your dream, right?" the boy is saying, dropping down next to him and making himself comfortable. All Jisung can do is stare at him owlishly.

It's been - a long, long time since he saw anyone that isn't his own, somehow.

(It's a long time since he saw himself, too.)

"… It's … fine. Don't … don't worry," he manages to say, though he feels like his smile comes off as a little too weak. He scrunches his nose in concentration. "I … I think it's mine, yeah."

The other gives out a long, affirmative sound, letting his gaze roam, even as there is nothing worthy to look at. It's all white - no shades among the purity, nothing that really stands out.

"I see, I see," the boy finally says, looking back to him. "Oh, I'm Chenle, by the way! You can also call me Lele, too, I don't really mind."

Jisung stares back - he's been staring at him the whole time, to be honest. There really is nothing else to look at.

"… Jisung. My name is Jisung," he says, after a heartbeat or two, nodding. "What … why are you here?"

The question seems to throw Chenle off - if the widened eyes and the small gasp is anything to go by. There are so many emotions on the other's face, it's quite fascinating.

"What, you don't know?" he squints, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What do I not know?" Jisung asks in lieu of a reply. There are a lot of things he doesn't know, actually.

Chenle nods, another string of sounds escaping him, but they don't form words - no cohesion between them. No purpose Jisung could detect, either - it's interesting. But, it doesn't explain anything at all.

"Well … you see, people who can share their dreams, they're typically called soulmates, so I guess that … makes us soulmates?" he scratches the back of his head. "Voicing this now is so strange! But, I mean, there is nothing attached to it, and if you want, we can just - leave it at here and I'll try not to accidentally fall into yours from now on, if it's too much for you-"

"No."

The sound of desperation surprises even Jisung, eyes widened - astonished that such a word, a tone could escape him now. But … no.

The thought of being alone again - no. He can't do it.

"Please … I … I don't want to be alone," he whispers quietly, head dropping down, buried between his arms as he curls himself up once more.

This must be - this can't be. His mind is probably playing tricks on him, making up some friend for him - there is no way that-

"Hey, can I hug you?" Chenle asks softly, his voice coming from a place much closer to him now, but not quite touching.

Jisung lifts his head, just a little.

"… okay," he whispers.

And it's much more a thought than a physical feeling, in this realm, when the other hugs him - as he tries to remember just how it feels like to be hugged, but it's a nebulous memory, if it is one at all.

"I'll be back, okay? You're not alone anymore, you have me-"

Yet, Jisung can't help but to feel hopeless all over, for as soon as the other finishes his words, he vanishes.

Perhaps, his mind is playing a cruel game indeed.

-----

But, true to his words, Chenle comes back.

Jisung isn't sure 'when' it happens, but - from one moment to another, when the boy tumbles into his sight another time, he's surrounded by a gentler tone. Nothing of the sterile white, yet nothing as concrete as a scenery - a blur of warm white hues where the other's grin is the only thing that stands out, crisp and clear.

"Missed me?" Chenle's voice is as amused as Jisung looks unimpressed. He turns away from the new arrival, a pout forming on his face.

"Definitely not," Jisung throws back with defiance, an unfamiliar - or long-forgotten, he isn't so sure - emotion blossoming.

The other's voice is playful, however, despite his feigned disinterest.

"Are you sulking?"

"'m not."

"Oh my, you are-"

"-and I told you, 'm not!"

"Aww, come on, I told you I'd be back, not? That's how dreams work, after all," Chenle hums, coming closer yet. Jisung can feel it - even more as a finger pokes his cheek, from a direction he tries not to look at.

But, the words have him turn around to the boy.

"What do you mean, how dreams work? How … do they work?" he squints hard.

Chenle's face morphs from mischief to surprise, to something - gentler, even his voice taking a softer tone. "So … you really don't know, huh?"

And there it is again - to be told, you don't know anything, a thing that evokes a much more unpleasant emotion altogether, a toil in his stomach that burns and burns up to his throat and brews venom-

-but there is something almost awing in Chenle's voice that he can't bring harsh words to spill over, tries to swallow them instead - nods grimly, only. He doesn't ask, but he doesn't have to - his watchful eyes probably gave him away long since.

"Well, I mean - dreams stop when you wake up. And then, they can continue, repeat or be entirely different when you go to sleep again. At least for me, it's - you know? It has an end and a beginning, but …" the boy tries to explain, eyes grazing over the endless scenery of nothing in particular. "… you don't wake up, do you? Do - did you even go to sleep?"

Jisung hides, tries to, but his eyes are yet visible as he buries his face in his arms, nestled atop his knees.

Waking and … sleeping?

"It … maybe, a memory, but I can't remember," his voice is muffled. "I … I don't leave this place."

I can't. I … I can't.

And there it is again, the memory - or something akin to it, of being hugged, a foreign and almost distant feeling that washes over him. The boy is hesitantly approaching, but Jisung doesn't shy away.

"Hey, it's fine - well, supposed it's not really, but … how about this? When I wake up, I can ask around and … I'll be back, alright? You're not alone anymore," Chenle says, a little playfulness residing in his voice in a colourful hue - more colourful than anything Jisung's heard so far, can remember. Much more colourful than his own white-dominated thoughts.

He nods, slowly wrapping his own arms around the other - a faraway memory, to embrace this strange, strange being in this moment.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

-----

When Chenle disappears this time, he doesn't feel as anxious anymore, though it still leaves a sour taste in his mouth, another novelty of emotion that makes its home in his mind. For the first time in seemingly forever, 'time' seems to gain a bit of a meaning in this place, though Jisung notices that 'time' isn't really stringent like this. Sometimes, waiting for Chenle to appear feels shorter or longer than other times, and then, the time he waits doesn't really compare to how fast time seems to fly past when they're together.

Chenle doesn't immediately bring news about this whole 'waking up' business, but what he does bring are small - then, bigger things. He's careful with what he brings into Jisung's - their - dream, even as he can't help himself from slipping sometimes, startling him.

But, he's adjusting to the random input from a mind like Chenle's that springs back and forth between so many places and experiences. It makes him jealous, sometimes - another new, old emotion -, but those ripples come to a standstill whenever he sees the excitement with which the boy introduces something new to him, making his own eyes glimmer with curiosity over whichever thing that is explained.

It makes Chenle cackle sometimes because he can't help but to fall a little bit in love with every mundane thing, and he kicks him each time when it happens, pouting - sulking over the other's mockery.

(Yet, he thinks he can spot a foreign fondness in the boy's gaze, something that makes him look away, as if he isn't supposed to see it, even as he feels very much like he's the spotlight for this … he doesn't know.)

And after singular concepts, night after night, Jisung finally asks for something … bigger.

A scenery.

"You sure?" Chenle raises an eyebrow in question. "You seemed startled the first time-"

Jisung swats into the nothingness - an annoyance away, nodding determinedly. "That was ages ago! I - I want to see the world, I want to see your day-to-day."

The boy levels him with a thoughtful gaze, for once void of any playfulness - before it returns all at once, a grin on his face like it never left. Sometimes Jisung wonders if it ever truly does.

"Alright, you got it - but, if you ever feel uncomfortable, just - you know, it's your dream, too, right? Just change to clouds or something, you seemed pretty fond of them," Chenle hums.

"They're so fluffy- or, well, look like they'd be-" is as far as Jisung comes in terms of defending probably his favourite things among all before-

-white morphs another time. But instead of just a singular piece, it's - everything.

There is little transition between the present moment and the one before, barely something that connects them before they're in a place he doesn't know.

It's - it has walls, an end and a beginning, as far as he can see, but the world seems to stretch far through the window, a blurred horizon on the line. Familiar concepts that come back ringing from deep below, and yet, he's never seen this before.

His mouth falls open as he marvels.

The walls are a vivid yet soft blue, something like a picture-perfect sky blue, with corkboards and pinboards plastered here and there in some chaotically ordered fashion. The boards themselves are covered with an impossible amount of papers - maps - letters - postcards - tickets - everything that is pretty much pin-able, at this point, even as most of it remains ineligible to him. An unmade bed with grey-chequered sheets in one corner, featuring a dolphin plushie next to the pillow, and a desk in the other that's probably the only heap of sanity and visible order in this whole array. Things - clothes, and books, and others - are littered across the ground, a suitcase that falls open with the full intent to be packed for adventure.

It's something … deeply private, he feels, and it makes him wonder - he looks to the other.

"Welcome to my room," Chenle opens with a grin at last, gesturing what Jisung's been admiring for a while now. "Kind of sorry for the chaos, though, I get a bit restless each time before travelling …"

"Your … room?"

"Yup! The place where I scheme, sleep and sometimes eat, even as my mom says I'll be overrun with ants sooner or later," he hums in reply, shrugging it off easily. "I don't actually spend that much time here, though - it's much more fun to go out and see the world! But, it's nice to come back to here when I don't, and you know - to keep track of things. Otherwise I'd probably visit the same place fifteen times."

He laughs, though Jisung looks at him curiously. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

"Hm … maybe not," Chenle replies thoughtfully. "But, I still like to see new sights better."

"I see …"

Jisung nods in agreement. Now that he's learning more about what lies beyond this desolate white, he grows curious - and if there is so much more to see …

His gaze wanders through the curiosity that is Chenle's room, standing up at some point from where they were seated on the ground, to try and investigate more. Some things remain blurred, but others are coming into view sharply the closer he gets - he figures it might depend on Chenle in that case, what he paid attention to and what not. It's interesting to see what he seems to look at often, and what is more of a faraway notion.

"How are you feeling?" the boy asks after a while, stopping to stand beside Jisung.

And he hums, nodding - smiling quietly. "I'm good," he replies. "It doesn't feel foreign - it feels a lot like you, in fact."

"It is my room, after all," Chenle lets out with a grin, his typical laugh that soars high and higher, seemingly even undisturbed by the roof that should limit it - but, it doesn't. Not here, anyway, not when the rules of their realm are the ones they make. His eyes sparkle, something between fondness and mischief - maybe a mixture of both - as he asks another question. "So, you like it?"

Jisung looks at him, then lets his gaze wander through the room again.

"Mh-hm," he nods. "I like it."

-----

It must have been - weeks since they first met, and a couple of days since they began to camp in Chenle's room, a growing familiarity as they figure out next steps to bring the world to the mind of Jisung. It seems that there is a lot more that he actually remembers from a faraway distance, as not everything is something in need of explanation; but, it doesn't really take away the utter awe he has for even the smaller things in this particular room.

Jisung hugs the dolphin plushie next to the pillows, tentatively sitting down on Chenle's bed when the boy brings news about what he found out.

"I think you're a dreamer," Chenle blurts out.

Jisung looks at the other, confused. "… Dreamer?"

"Yup! At least I think that's how they call those that are … hmm, say, caught in their own dream, in a way? From what I understood is, they're growing up fairly normally, but at some point in their life, they fall into an infinite slumber. They're still alive and everything, and their body seems to age as normally, but … they don't wake up. For a long time, anyway. It's kind of like a coma, but without a real explanation to it? I think people have dubbed it the sleeping beauty syndrome, too, but I personally don't like the term as much?" the other tries to explain, visibly rummaging in his head for the snippets he heard or read.

"Since some of those dreamers share dreams with their soulmates, and their soulmates can describe what they witness … from what I read up, it sounds familiar to you? Fading memories, and all. Though it's the first I heard of that blank space that your dream was."

"And … and how do I wake up?" Jisung's voice is a whisper, hesitant, in face of the answer he anticipates.

Chenle looks at him, a little apologetic.

"Honestly? I'm … not sure yet. I have to do some more research," he can only reply. "But … it's a start?"

There is a simple nod from Jisung as he curls up another time, pressing the dolphin plushie close to his chest, a vague memory constructing the feeling of all that surrounds him.

A dreamer.

Is that what he is?

"I'll keep my eyes on it, okay? It might take me a considerable time, though, like maybe years - but, I'll work on it," Chenle's voice softly interrupts him out of his thoughts, and Jisung only nods another time.

He buries his face in the fluffy plush.

"Hey … can we go outside today?"

-----

As it turns out, 'going outside' only goes as far as the other rooms and floors of the house Chenle is living in. He jumpscares at the other figures that they meet - and promptly vanish, the replicas in their dream disappearing with the frightened mind. Jisung later learns that they were 'Chenle's family' - parents, siblings, maybe even uncles and aunts or grandparents. The boy mentions how they all tend to come and go as they please, so it's always a bit of a guessing game who to meet - but, they shouldn't occur again if he doesn't want to.

Jisung doesn't really answer to it. He's surprised to notice that, maybe, he wants to meet them - but it's hard.

I want to meet them in person, is what he wants to say, but he doesn't.

"So that's … the living room?" he asks instead, eyes wandering over the room they entered, filled with the manifestation of clashing personalities in trinkets and other items. A corner that is littered with random things from, as it seems, all across the world, whereas there is a tidy shelf with books in the opposite corner, sorted in a system that Jisung can't quite comprehend. The letters are blurry, it doesn't seem like Chenle paid much attention to the titles. Small pots of succulents are decorating everything here and there, like a gentle reminder of someone's important presence in this house.

"Yup! Also known as the Supreme Hoarding Point, we're kind of used to just … throw all sorts of things together and maybe later stash it in our own rooms," the boy explains with a hum. "Since we do spend some time together here, even if it's just minding our own business in close proximity."

"It feels cosy," Jisung remarks, fingers gliding over the smooth wooden surface of the table before plopping down at the feet of the couch, taking a blanket from the same. "It's nice."

"It's chaos," the other chuckles in response yet fondly, letting himself fall next to him within a moment's notice.

Jisung learns more about his family during that time - how he has an older brother, Kun, who is very uptight and scholarly in a desk kind of sense, and his father who is responsible for all the succulents. His parent is the one who keeps buying a variety of blankets and pillows, claiming that they're in need of every physical fluff they can acquire in face of murderous deadlines - and it's the only thing keeping them from adopting five rabbits or so Chenle claims with a cackle.

The dreamer's eyes widen.

"Dead lines? My condolences-"

"What? No - deadlines, as in, you have to finish something by a certain date - you don't die if you don't, that'd be quite harsh, but … yeah! Actually, I'm not even sure why people call it so drastically," Chenle hurries to explain, his voice morphing into amused musings as he furrows his eyebrows.

"… Oh, I'm relieved to hear. I think? It sounds rough," Jisung remarks, now feeling a bit sheepish over - was he overreacting?

"Yeah, but we'll do what we can to help them, they're a precious family member after all," the other hums, shaking his head in amusement. "Even as they get quite insufferable every time they have to submit something. You would think they might get used to it at some point, but maybe not really?"

And Chenle continues to talk - tell a tale, an anecdote, a memory, here and now, and it evokes a little … churning inside his stomach, as much as it fills him with warmth and curiosity to hear about it.

He wonders …

His own family - wonders if they miss him?

… Does he even have one?

-----

Jisung insists to go somewhere other than Chenle's house the next time the boy appears.

"You sure?" Chenle asks and he only rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, that's why I'm asking - you mentioned some sort of festival the other day, what about that?" There is a sparkle in the dreamer's eyes, eliciting a laugh from the other.

"You jumpscared when you saw my parents yesterday, you sure you're ready to take on a whole crowd?" His voice is amused, though not exactly void of fondness, too.

It's something to dwell on, but not today.

"That was - I didn't expect anyone! But now, I'm ready. It's not like they're really going to talk to me, are they?" Jisung scrunches his nose in thoughts. Or maybe … it's not a good idea after all?

But before he can reconsider his choices made in his own empty whiteness, Chenle's already letting out an "alright" and soon enough, the familiar space of his room turns into a street, people milling around - scents and sounds and visuals invading Jisung's senses as the scenery is filled with a myriad of things.

It's almost too much.

He almost asks for - to transform everything to nothingness back, where it's safe and sound and-

-but he doesn't come as far, distracted by the hand that intertwines with his own soon enough. A crystalline laugh, warm, surrounds him wholly instead of the sound orchestra all around them. And then, all he can see is Chenle's growing smile, encircled by a blur of colours and impressions that flee past them in ephemeral beauty.

"Come, I wanted to show you something since we spoke-" the boy hums, dragging Jisung with him, his feet coming to an abrupt start.

It's only when a blur catches his attention that he tugs the other to stop, pointing at an oddly shaped something. It's curious, really, because there are dots and blotches of blur all around, but somehow … Jisung reaches out to touch it, hold it. A green line with a colourful bulk on top. "What is this?"

Chenle stops, turns around and hums. "Oh? Uhm … let me think …" He furrows his eyebrows before epiphany seems to strike him. He takes Jisung's hands into his, wrapping his fingers around the other's as he closes his eyes, manifesting the memory from faraway.

It turns into a stem - petals - a …

"It's a flower! I think it was a gerbera?" the boy hums, grinning widely.

It's a bit dazzling, the simple yet beautiful shape of the flower, calling awake a long-forgotten memory, and yet … not quite. It feels warm, above all, something tender pulsing from the flower itself, and from the skin that touches his.

He nods, smiling softly.

Flowers …

-----

After that particular happening, Chenle seems to make it a point to bring a flower of some sort every other night or so. It's complementary to the views he presents as well, even as he sometimes doesn't seem to know as much about the flower beyond its appearance and a name to go with, it still makes Jisung smile, storing the memory away.

Gerberas remain a little bit of his favourite, though.

He's staring at a bouquet of flowers in his hands, various colours merging into a single impression as his gaze wanders yet to the scenery around them, a hustling street, situated on the outside of a café, with make-believe coffee mugs in front of them on the table.

"Hey … you know how you mentioned soulmates like, the second time we met?" Jisung lets out amidst the background chit-chatter of anonymous people.

Chenle nods, absent-mindedly stirring the dark brown brew, even as he has no intention to drink this café noir. The strong scent of coffee still makes it way to the dreamer, flowers or not. It's a comforting smell, in a way.

"Yeah, why?"

"What are they … actually? I feel like I heard of it, maybe, but - I'm not really sure. I guess it's special if you can share your dreams like that, but it's so bizarre, too, if you get what I mean?" Jisung puts the bouquet down, his gaze piercing into the other with unabashed curiosity. It's been on his mind for a while, if he were to be honest.

"It's pretty nebulous, huh?" Chenle hums in agreement. "Actually, I'm not too sure either? Apart from the fact that soulmates typically share their dreams with another, meaning they can enter each other's, or create their own together. People used to believe that soulmates are like, your romantic 'happily ever after', that they'd be your perfect match and you'd be together forever-after. Then, the tides shifted to a more nuanced viewing, as in, that platonic soulmates exist, and even antagonistic or otherwise - that it's more varied than just romance."

He pauses, glancing over to the other with a little smirk to his smile.

"Add to the soup that multiple soulmates for one person can exist - hence, a person can be a soulmate to more than one person. Though levels of reciprocation and the history behind this isn't really something I know a lot about. But lastly, the belief fell that it would tied to 'the rest of your life' - perhaps, soulmates also just enter your life for a little while, shake everything up and … well, are gone, too. Sometimes, soulmates change with time as well. Nothing has to last forever - and that isn't really something bad, either. Not having a soulmate used to be stigmatised, but it's more chill now, considering a soulmate can be everything and nothing and you're not really too influenced by whether or not you meet yours, dream or otherwise."

Jisung's mouth falls open in awe. "You know a lot," he quips an eyebrow.

The boy gives him a lopsided grin. "My father is kind of invested in this, so I heard a lot growing up. My parents aren't actually soulmates 'verified' through dream sharing, for the record, but hmm, if you view soulmates as someone that touches your soul … I feel like they could be."

"Someone that touches your soul?"

"Mh-hm! Or that's how I like to call it sometimes. I mean, it is called soul-mate, it better has to do something with that, not?" Chenle remarks with a small laugh.

"I guess so. Then, where would you place us?"

Silence nestles for a while between them as the boy hums, thinks, and Jisung tries not to be too nervous. He still wouldn't say he knows Chenle, but there is a level of trust that is building up between them.

Whatever he says, he's sure it'll be fine.

"Well, I actually don't really know, but … I sure hope we'll hang out for a long time. You're fun to be around, Jisung," he replies at last.

It has the dreamer laughing, even as he feels like his question hasn't been answered at all. A true non-answer of a kind.

But … a long time, huh?

"A long time with you doesn't sound too bad," Jisung hums.

It really doesn't.

-----

Until, of course, it does.

"Zhong Chenle, I swear if I find you now-" the dreamer's voice is unusually loud, reverberating through the dream and filled with a sort of range that feels foreign in his skin, but familiar all the same. It's not often that he's angry, that he's sure of, but - well, if it happens, it happens.

"I'm sorry!" the voice of the other halls from somewhere distant, yet it rings clear in Jisung's head. "I didn't know you'd be this scared-"

"-surprised, I was surprised," Jisung flatly corrects him, definitely not sulking (he is). "No one's eyes should look like that!"

His own eyes wander restlessly through the maze of alleyways, a strange fog reaching up to his ankle - but this spooky scenery doesn't even come close to the shock he had when Chenle turned up with slit pupils.

"Well, cats or snakes sometimes-"

"Zhong! Chen! Le! If you don't appear right now, I'll throw you off a cliff, like, fifteen times!"

"Okay, okay - look, I'm really sorry, okay? I won't bring coloured contacts into our dreams anymore - it's just, Halloween, you know, and I thought a little something wouldn't hurt … sorry," Chenle's voice sounds closer than ever, yet quieter, too - and when he turns around, there is the sheepish figure of his soulmate. He's scratching the back of his head, eyes back to normal.

At the sight of the other, Jisung's anger sizzles down a little, feeling continuously more stupid for his outbreak as he sighs. "I'm sorry, too - sorry for overreacting," he mutters. "I just - wasn't expecting it. Hug?"

The boy's face morphs from a concerned expression to a gentle smile, nodding - and all but tackling Jisung into a hug that gets both of them laughing, the eerie scenery transitions to the familiar sights of Chenle's bedroom. They stumble, falling easily onto the mess of blankets, hands and limbs somewhat connected.

It's a curious feeling, really - he can't … quite remember the touch, the proximity, not with Chenle like this, but he still feels warm where they're intertwined in whichever way possible. It's warm like that and he's smiling.

They talk of promises and of nothing in particular before Chenle disappears yet another time, leaving the dreamer behind to stare at the ceiling, slowly feeling how the dream dissolves with the absence of one of their creators, until his back is gently touching the ground.

He's left with white, but his mind is coloured in all kinds of colours.

Even as right now, he can't keep a whole scenery up with what little he actually remembers, his fingers are closing around the stem of a gerbera, smiling.

He can't wait for what Chenle might bring next.

… As long as they're not coloured contacts.

-----

"What do you think you wanted to do when you're older?" Chenle suddenly asks, in the middle of a large clearing, small flowers and blossoms littering the general area in their gentle colours.

Jisung stops dipping his fingers tentatively into the pond as he looks over to the other, still seated on the picnic blanket he conjured. Food is there as well, but it remains untouched as usual.

"What I wanted to do … later?" He scrunches his nose.

Chenle nods. "Yup! Like, what was your childhood dream for when you'd grow up? Who did you think you'd become one day?"

It's, frankly, a tough question, but one that intrigues the dreamer however. He skips over to the blanket, letting him fall down, a faraway thought of I have to ask him about the name of this place again, later.

"I don't know if I can remember," he admits, honest to good, shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "Maybe something like, helping people. Or maybe just something fun."

He lets himself fall on his back, limbs stretched out and gaze turning skywards.

"Why'd you ask?"

"I was just thinking … graduation is just around the corner and people keep nagging me about it," Chenle admits with a sigh, a scornful expression on his face. Disdain is evident; the future? Not so much, apparently.

"Oh," Jisung nods, then shakes his head. "I'm sorry I probably won't be able to help much, though. I'm not really sure what there even is that you can do these days."

But, the thing is. When he turns his head towards the other, he finds him staring at him, with a deeply pondering gaze that he wonders …

"Don't tell me you do have a plan, though."

Jisung raises an eyebrow. So much talk for what now?

"It's - it's nothing concrete," Chenle admits with a huff, tearing his gaze away. It makes the dreamer look even more intensely until he heaves himself into a sitting position, hands stretched out to cup the other's face, forcing them eye-to-eye.

The wind is blowing a gentle breeze - or maybe, Chenle's mind is going haywire enough to think of the most trivial things to add to the dream.

"What is it? Clearly you wanted to talk with me about it if you brought it up," Jisung says, sternly for once.

The small smile that breaks out on Chenle's worrisome expression, however, tells him he probably looks more like a pouting squirrel or hamster or something, but that's beside the point. The point is, he lays his hands on Jisung's own hands, humming - more relaxed than before.

"Yeah … I was actually thinking about going to university," the boy admits.

Jisung raises an eyebrow in silent question. And? The concept tells him something, no further explanation needed as slowly, he's piecing together the world outside.

"And - maybe I was thinking … you see, the university in the next city is offering a course that - that's majorly involved in treating and researching dreamers, and their symptoms, and everything. They do research dreams foremost, but that's also a part of it since it's been such a long-standing thing now. So I was thinking … maybe, if I took the course, we could better understand what's going on …"

Furrowing his eyebrows, Jisung looks confused. "But … that's great, not? What's stopping you from it?"

His confusion is seemingly mirrored on Chenle's face also. "You don't find it weird? I mean, it's a whole course kind of for like, studying people like you-"

"I mean, it is a bit strange considering we're all sort of sleeping, I guess, but now that we're talking … honestly?" Jisung's eyes flit to him, moving his hands away from his cheeks and intertwining them with the other's hands instead, swaying them. "If - or, when I get out of here, I'd probably try and study that, too. I want to understand what's going on."

The boy breaks out in a grin, laughing amused. "You would?"

"Definitely, probably - if I'm smart enough," Jisung nods, determined - smiling because he's smiling, too.

"Well, then … how about we're going to study together? Also it's really not if, but when."

Chenle holds out his pinky, smiling gently - enthusiastically.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

-----

"Yah, wait, I'm not even done looking-" Jisung whines, foot stomping to prove a point as he looks at the vanishing figure of Chenle - fortunately for the both of them, though, he soon comes back, an incredulous look on his face.

"You stood in front of that like, five minutes! You know time is kind of limited, yeah?"

The dreamer only rolls his eyes. Of course he knows - it's hard not to be painfully aware of the whimsical timespan between then and there that they do have in this wondrous realms, where anything and nothing can happen.

He knows, but that doesn't hinder him from stopping and looking at a piece of art that he likes in particular.

His gaze seems to tell as much because the next sound evoked out of Chenle is a resigned sigh.

"When I asked you if you wanted to go to the art gallery I visited today, too, I didn't picture this to happen, you know?" he remarks, though there is some fondness embedded within the exasperation. "I thought we'd speedrun through to the funny statues-"

"Well, no," Jisung stops him right there with a defiant grin, crossing his legs. He pointedly looks at the empty space next to him on the bench. "You - here - now."

And Chenle has little other choice than to comply, placing himself next to the satisfied smile that emerges victoriously on the other's face.

"Van Gogh's The Starry Night, huh? Kinda basic, but - iconic," he comments as his gaze shifts to where Jisung's been glued to for so long.

A small infinity, maybe.

Jisung shrugs.

"I have no concept of your 'basic', but … it's nice. It reminds me of something," he says, tentatively.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Chenle hums.

"I don't know …" the dreamer shakes his head. "Shooting stars. A brilliant night. Maybe I'm just thinking back to one of our moments, too. But there is … I feel like, maybe, when I was - when I could fall asleep, I did - did I dream of something like this?"

Incoherent thoughts, yet the other gives him an affirmative hum. It's not the first time Jisung spoke like this - about this, and there's hope it won't be the last. If this continues, after all …

"You're beginning to remember, aren't you?"

Jisung nods quietly, a little sheepishly yet.

It's a strange sensation, to think he's getting a grip on his life - back, again, for a second time, maybe.

When it first came up, it was scary - not to know how to deal with the emotions that surface with every vague flash, much worse than before - than whatever feeling Chenle's presence and general demeanour manages to crack open out of him. Like it's an old wound that suddenly starts to bleed again, he finds himself in a state of disarray.

But Chenle reassures him, over and over, to embrace those emotions - memories.

Maybe it means you're waking up.

It feels like a pathetic hope to cling to, but Chenle unfortunately has science to back him up. As much as he complains about his coursework, there are interesting tidbits and data he shares with the dreamer.

And so, Jisung tries - tries not to be too overwhelmed. But … a tear rolls down his face nonetheless, a quiet sob breaking from underneath the facade of awe.

A feeling of warmth, from long ago - and, in the here and now.

"I'm here for you," is all Chenle says when he intertwines their fingers lightly, tightening his grip gently, allowing the dam to break over something Jisung can't even put to words.

-----

Forests are, among windswept hightops, his favourite places that Chenle brings him. The way no forest really looks like another, and yet there is a familiarity he appreciates when he sets foot into the place lit with golden spots and dark timber - lush green leaves and dots of colourful blossoms, depending on.

It's always different, and yet …

He closes his eyes to take in the quiet breeze. At this point of time, he manages to keep a small kind of forest up by himself, feeding off the varied memories that Chenle gifted him with. Nothing that mirrors the reality they come from, but his own little sanctuary.

But, as soon as the other steps into their dream this time, he's confused to find the soil vanishing underneath him. Instead of something else - concrete, a path, anything - being substituted for his own daydream in a sense, there is … the stark whiteness that returns.

As alarming as it is, the mischievous - adoring smile on Chenle's face is reassuring.

… Somewhat.

Not wholly, but … he can't help but to return the smile, eyebrow quirked in a silent question when he gazes upon the other.

"I saw the forest you made - it was quite pretty," Chenle acknowledges his efforts, at least, after taking the time not to override everything immediately. But, usually, there is nothing to overwrite, either.

"Well, then why did you-?" Jisung skips the obvious thanks laying in the brilliant flash of a smile he sends him, gesturing all around him instead.

"I thought! Well, I was gonna take you to snowy tops today, but … considering you're getting the hang of manipulating our dream yourself, I was wondering about something else …"

Unceremoniously, Chenle drops to the ground, sitting down cross-legged as he pats the space in front of him, expectantly.

As if he expects that Jisung would just understand or play along. The former is certainly not true, but he's a little too following with the other's whims, albeit he's learnt the hard way to keep his guard up regardless.

Chenle still doesn't explain anything.

Instead, what leaves his mouth is a request when Jisung eventually sits down. "Close your eyes?"

Jisung shoots him one more deadpan stare before he sighs, hugging his knees as he closes his eyes. "Fine, what now?"

"You know, since you're remembering more and more these days, and gain control of this space, I wondered … if maybe, you're really close to waking up?" Chenle offers an explanation now, making Jisung want to roll his eyes despite the impact those words have.

Close to waking up.

"So you're bringing back my white space?" Jisung quips an eyebrow, however, not quite so understanding everything that goes on.

"Yes and - no, I was wondering … you know, since that whole waking-up might be the case," Chenle's voice sounds unsteady for once, almost making Jisung open his eyes. The words are curious - he is curious.

"Yeah? You were thinking?" he prompts instead.

Chenle huffs. "Right. So - what kind of place would you want to be in? When you wake up, after your rehab and everything of course. What does your ideal place look like?"

There is a small smile, a little exasperated at his when and the confidence that springs over to him before the remaining words fill Jisung with warmth all over.

His … ideal place, huh?

"Are you gonna take me on a date?" Jisung counters in lieu of an answer, cackling amused at the startled noises from the other. He keeps his eyes firmly shut, but he doesn't need his eyes to be pretty sure Chenle must be the semblance of a human tomato in this moment.

It's not something they speak about - sometimes he isn't sure if they have to, if there is any scale to be tipped.

But the bickering, light teasing - flirting, even - is comfortable, too, and he hears how Chenle clears his throat to regain composure.

"I mean - I would, maybe, but - come on now, where'd you wanna go?" he caves, just a little, a weak rebuttal from the otherwise so loud and confident boy he's grown to admire. "Just answer the question, please?"

Jisung only laughs for a moment, an airy timbre resonating in the air, lingering in the space.

Now the whiteness makes sense. Chenle wants to witness him building something from their now-shared memories, or from someplace else he can draw inspiration from. Chenle wants to know - how his perfect place looks like, where he wants to be, in this very moment, so he could start to look for something similar in the real world.

He shakes his head slightly in disbelief (and adoration), but complies no less, concentrating.

Just where would he want to be?

He furrows his eyebrows in thought, lips pursed as he ponders and keeps wondering. Channelling his innermost wishes seems easy in a way, after experiencing what must feel like a second life - there is so much to draw from. Maybe vivid greenery like he imagined up until Chenle's arrival? Or the mountaintops that he spoke of earlier could be fun … not to forget bustling streets of vivacious hustle, or a quiet hut in a meadow of flowers. The thought of flowers make him smile a little.

Wherever he'll settle, he does hope that there will be flowers. It would be odd without them, after all.

Perhaps if he could think hard enough about a windmill. Living close to a windmill would be quite awesome - oh, or the observatory that Chenle took him to once … There are so many possibilities, his mind is overran with the many that unfold in front of his own eyes.

Now, where does he want to be …?

He doesn't notice the shrinking gap between the both of them as moments trickle by, not until his head softly falls onto the other's shoulder - and he's opening his eyes in confusion, lifting his head to meet an equally confused stare.

"Uhm … you're … done?" Chenle asks, hesitation evident in his voice - so palpable in the stark whiteness of nothing but them.

… Wait, what?

Their surroundings have not taken any shape at all, it's the same nothingness that they started with - sans a small bouquet of a few gerberas by their feet. Jisung's own confusion seems mirrored in Chenle's - so close, so close …

Huh. Wait.

When did either of them move?

"I … I'm not sure," he finally comes to answer the other's question, though he rapidly gestures between them - to the nearly non-existent gap between them. "Moreso, did you move?"

Chenle slowly shakes his head. "I don't know - I was waiting for you to come up with something, you know, fantastical-esque or whatever your mind would conjure, but suddenly you were just next to me and the gerberas dropped out of nowhere and-"

He throws his hands into the air.

"Now we're here."

Jisung furrows his eyebrows, staring at the blossoms - taking them into his hands, twirling them. "I was thinking about so many things, so I don't get it … just flowers? I thought I'd get a windmill at least," he sighs, a little pout forming on his face, absent-mindedly letting his head drop against the other's shoulder another time.

"I was really thinking about it. The windmill, I mean," he huffs out in slight annoyance at his mind.

Chenle lets his own head drop against the dreamer's with a chuckle and they remain in quiet solitude for a while, with nothing or nobody else than them in this silent corner of the mind.

Jisung decides to try another time - close his eyes, think really hard about the places he's seen and wants to see again - but when he opens his eyes, the white remains a stubborn white, so full of infinite possibilities.

Opposed to what this emptiness meant to him before, the absence of everything, he finds himself admiring the white in a novel way - filled with so much that could be instead. It's theirs to decide what to fill this space with. And yet …

Only Chenle remains here, with the flowers, and he squints - gazes up to the other.

Where he wants to be …

His eyes widen, hastily casting his gaze downwards and only catching the briefest of Chenle's confused glance.

"Huh, what's wrong?" he nudges him, though Jisung strictly refuses to answer, staring right ahead into the vast nothingness that could be everywhere, anywhere, all at the same time.

In the end, he realises the exact where wouldn't quite so matter to him. The most important part would be - to have Chenle by his side, like this.

It's a little bit of an overwhelming realisation to have in the middle of, bluntly, nowhere, but it's merely the manifestation of what's been lingering on his mind ever since, the sceneries blurring together.

He remembers tidbits and remarkable moments for sure, but Chenle is shaping himself to be the most significant yet - a brilliant grin, a chuckle or a dolphin-like laughter standing out the most.

It almost feels like gravity, but it's much softer than that.

"Nothing," Jisung says at last, hoping his cheeks aren't as hot as the confusion he feels. "I'll … tell you, maybe. One day."

Chenle lets out a noncommittal gruff at that, but it sounds more amused than anything. "I hold you to your word, pinky promise?"

And Jisung's face morphs into a smile, irrevocably, as he lifts his hand, pinky outstretched to link it with the other. He still doesn't look at him, though.

"Promise."

I want to hug you for real. I hope I can hug you soon.

He hopes he wakes up soon, so there is nothing but the present lingering between them. No memory, no blurriness, nothing that's caught between familiarity and distance.

"We'll meet each other soon, yes?"

And Chenle smiles, moving his head against the other's a little bit to nuzzle.

"Yep. That for sure."

-----

-----

White.

That's all he remembers when he slowly wakes - that's all he sees when he opens his eyes. He has to close them again, hand not strong enough to lift and shield him against the pouring rays of sunshine. Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut again, a confused mutter leaving his lips, meaning everything and nothing.

Around him, voices - so many voices that explode - are shushed, get quieter, yet don't loose the excitement. More voices - more noises. So much.

It's almost too much, but then he feels the gentle touch - a familiar touch.

The light feels less aggressive, less invasive now, and he carefully dares to open his eyes.

"M- … mom?" Jisung lets out weakly, his voice neither here nor there. But the familiar figure of his mother breaks out in a wide smile, nodding softly.

There are so many emotions inside of her eyes that he feels overwhelmed by just that, not ready yet to truly acknowledge the presence of - is that his father coming in? And his sister …

He closes his eyes again - not to sleep, but … rest.

He's going to wake up again.

He's going to see everyone again.

(But something - something feels off.)

-----

In the next hours, he only lays down to rest, closing his eyes - occasionally opening them to get himself adjusted to everything around him. Sometimes moving his fingers - arms - toes - head. He takes in the clean sheets of the hospital, the friendly plants on the bedside table (but, not colourful - not flowers, he notices), the window that's been covered up with a white, semi-translucent fabric to dim the daylight.

In the next days, he's usually accompanied by his mother, his father or his sister as they try to get him to speed. Slowly, as he remembers the concepts they're talking of - slowly, as it gets easier to understand the flow of text and words.

When they aren't with him, a doctor or a nurse usually is, asking questions to which the replies get gradually more eloquent, a little bit more each time. Hearing his own voice is alien at first, but … he's managing.

It doesn't feel as foreign.

However, at night, he sometimes lies awake, looking out of the window. He asked a nurse to remove the curtain after the first three days, insisting he wants to watch the waning and waxing moon.

He doesn't fall asleep for a while, but when he does, his dreams are filled with sceneries he hasn't ever seen before - maybe, only in documentaries and stuff like this. From someone else's point of view.

They feel so real yet, as if he was actually there all along - as if he walked and laughed and marvelled at the scenery as close as he could, running beside … who? What?

It's only him in those moments, just him.

But, those dreams are ridiculous, from what he gathers from his family. He hasn't ever been in Europe or Australia - hasn't even left the boundaries of Seoul all that often as the dream has claimed him so early on. There's no way he's ever been there - but that fuels him all the more. If he hasn't been there before, he wants to be now.

Eagerness takes over him quickly as his mind settles on that goal, determination that fills his rehabilitation time - three steps ahead, maybe one back, but he's going forward, always forward. During the time that he has to stay at the hospital and beyond, he's trying to describe the sceneries of his dreams to his sister who helps him figure out the places in real life when he forgot - doesn't know the name of. She brings with her a huge corkboard with a world map one day and they begin to scheme a route - or five, it doesn't matter.

"Your imagination is really crazy - that or you watched a lot more documentaries than I thought," his sister laughs at some point when he finishes his vivid retelling of an alleyway - how he's so sure that there must be this odd hole in the wall, shaped like a keyhole, but not quite …

It makes him smile, though confusion is etched onto his very own face, too.

"I … I guess I have," he can only reply. It's the only logical explanation for this, not? Why he can remember something like a random meadow in that specific place so well, or the fact that the coffee of a very specific cornerstone bakery smells extremely good, with a nice brown shade to go with the brew.

So many small and big memories.

It feels like they belong with him, and yet - not quite.

But nonetheless, it's an adventure - an adventure to figure them out, to re- or visit them.

Jisung brims with energy, and he can't wait to finally see the world after long, through his own eyes.

(But, this feeling of - oddity remains.)

-----

"Dad, what are those?"

Jisung's voice keeps his father from wandering further through the busy streets, eyes dead-set on his grocery list as the masses seem to make way for the determined house husband.

"Huh? Those flowers, you mean?" his father asks, a little confused. It's the first time they go grocery shopping together after he's been released, and Jisung can tell he probably didn't expect his unstoppable force to be stopped by this.

Something so fragile, so ephemeral.

"Yeah! I … I think I saw them before, but - I don't know," Jisung squints hard at the flowers, gently touching the ones standing out of the bucket. A colourful, a warm hue …

"I think they're - let me see … oh, yes, it's labelled! Gerberas? Do you want some?" the other asks, curious evident in his voice.

Jisung has been interested in a lot of things lately, though, so this doesn't exactly stand out. He's like a child rediscovering the world, after all this time.

"Mh! Yes, please!" he replies with a wide smile, already looking at the other flowers, too - but he comes out of the shop with an array of gerberas, in all colours he could find. Even as his gaze wanders through everything they encounter, nothing evokes quite a reaction as strong as the flowers, and his eyes keep looking back, twisting and turning the stems in his hands.

When they drive back, fully packed and with his father looking quite satisfied with today's haul, Jisung is still looking at the bouquet, mesmerised - awestruck.

"Dad, have you heard of the fairytale of the Knight of Flowers?" Jisung wonders out loud, earning a hum in return.

"The one where the Knight of Flowers comes every night or so, to tell a story to the captured people and raise their spirits - give them hope of the outside world? And eventually, the Knight helps the people to find the world again, after discovering that maybe, they've been stuck in their heads for all this time?"

"That one!" he smiles brightly. "I like it a lot. The Knight is super cool"

His father chuckles, amused as he turns his head to look at his son.

"Well, I hope you'll find your Knight of Flowers soon if that's what you want."

(Or maybe he has- but, no. That's an absurd thought.)

"Or maybe I will be one?" Jisung throws back with a grin, making them both laugh a little - it's feasible, of course, though he has to admit he prefers to listen rather than tell, for most part.

But, who knows …?

"At least you now have flowers to go with it."

-----

"You sure you really want this? You don't feel uncomfortable with it or something? It's gonna unpack all you went through, and more," his mother's voice sounds worried - probably justifiably so. Her son is just about to walk into coursework over coursework over the ailment that has locked him inside his own dream for years, if the time of the real world is anything to trust. It must be strange for an onlooker, but … well, he found out he isn't the first - nor will be the last dreamer to walk this path.

They're all curious in a way about the why - how - and how not.

He gives his mother a reassuring, determined smile. A bravery he doesn't know where it comes from, but … it feels exhilarating, to stand in front of the university's gates.

It feels like he's fulfilling a promise.

"Yes, I'm so sure - you know how much work I had to put in to even get accepted?" he nearly winces at the thought that arises with it all the same.

Those have been painful weeks.

His mother chuckles at his distorted smile, ruffling his head like he's a child again, with bruised knees and an overly wide grin.

"You sure you're going to survive? You heard of the existence of term papers, right?" she teases him, sending him down a small spiral of despair - before he catches himself, shaking his head.

"Yeah! I heard of them, and - and I'm sure I'll be fine!" Jisung tries to say, but even he only sounds half-convinced. Maybe …

But before he can even finish this thought, he's crushed into a hug that squeezes out all doubt. "I'm just messing with you. I read your essays and all, you're going to do just fine, I know it," she hums, looking up to her grown-up son with a look of fondness.

Before any of them knew it, time caught up to him.

"Go and learn, learn whatever you want to," she hums, pushing - literally pushing - him through the gates, leaving him slightly exasperated.

But - here he goes.

I've come here at last.

He upheld his end of the promise.

(… Which promise?)

-----

Life passes in a storm when he has to go through extensive readings every week, on top of figuring out a note-taking system that works for him (while also adamantly trying not to watch more videos about note-taking than the time he spends actually taking notes) and keeping in touch with family and friends. But Jisung is thriving - even as he's one of the cases where he doesn't seem to remember all that much about the time he dreamt, hearing this and that about it - about dreams is enlightening in its own ways. Of course, with something such as dreams, there is always room for error and change, as science tends to overthrow a singular concept within a single night's work.

It's always moving and he's always running behind, frantically trying to catch up, but … still. He takes his time to explore the world also, to see what he always wanted.

(Sometimes, it feels lonely, though.)

His life blurs past him in a rush of colour - so many colours.

Feet dangling from a bridge over a shallow river, his eyes oversee the forest that spreads ahead of him. Somewhere further away is a meadow, he's certain of it, with colourful tiny blossoms and larger flowers and a pond with cool water.

Somewhere further away, there is a … memory that holds something dear to him.

He's alone when he finally gets up to wander, though the clearing seems like the perfect spot for a picnic. Jisung sighs to himself, shaking his head - but smiling, no less. He should have packed a blanket, and some more food, and maybe asked his sister or one of his new friends to come with him.

But as things are now, he's sitting down near the pond, fingers dipping occasionally into the cool liquid, enjoying his own meal.

Someday, someday, he wants to come back here again.

-----

"Ugh, I'm gonna be late-" he groans out loud as he checks his phone clock, eyes wandering over the new campus buildings. Of course they have to renovate the main building when he's studying. Of course.

But that won't hinder him to attend that very interesting lecture about soulmates and their interaction with dreamers. How some dreamers - after waking up - forget about their soulmate.

The abstract and the research paper he read in preparation has been quite interesting already. It argues that it is possibly a defence mechanism, employed by the brain to ensure that the dreamer won't be too hurt by the fact that when they wake up, their soulmate (or, soulmates) won't be immediately by their side, in most cases; maybe even never.

It's a bit of a bittersweet theory, he thinks, but … emotions are a strange matter.

(Sometimes, he wonders-)

Now, if only he can find that obscure building before he's actually too late, what a great start into the new semester-

"-Watch out!"

But it's already too late when he hears the voice. He feels how he's knocked over by the sheer force of a student, running for dear life - how something bursts open, exploding in a plentitude of flowers without stems, forming a rain of gerberas in all various colours.

His back hurts, and there's someone on top of him.

Shock is evident in the other's eyes, probably mirroring his own.

Confusion - then …

… a smile.

Something so, so familiar.

A promise. A promise to keep.

"Ch- … Chen- … -le?"