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From the moment he'd heard the violin while walking, Klopp had been sure he was dreaming. After all, blindly stumbling through the woods on a cold, misty night in Manchester only to find your best friend sitting under a tree was far too good to be true. Said best friend having a suitcase with him, while also promising to stay for a while, seemed even more too good to be true.
But when Klopp strode into the kitchen the next morning to find Buvac standing in front of the open fridge door, he knew that no part of the night before had been a dream. Buvac's red, blue, and white-striped pyjamas were far too...aesthetically questionable to be dreamed up.
"Zel!" Klopp ran across the kitchen before tripping over his untied shoelace and falling face-first in front of the fridge. "You're here, toothpaste pajamas and all!"
"Well...yeah, I am." Buvac yawned, closing the fridge door shut. "How are you so awake in the morning?! It's hell o'clock in the morning!"
"It's six forty-seven in the morning. I'm usually awake then, remember?"
"I...don't remember."
"For you, that's hell o'clock, or, Zel o'clock. Get it?!"
"That's not even funny."
"Right, right. No telling bad jokes before you drink your coffee." Klopp was already off the floor and at the coffee machine. He poured a cup of pitch-black coffee, sliding it across the counter to Buvac. "Strawberry smoothie after the coffee?"
Buvac drained his coffee in less than three gulps, sighing in relief. Already, Klopp could see the caffeine easing his best friend out of his sleep. "How did you know?"
"According to how you were searching the fruit shelf on the fridge, you haven't changed much since your last day here, Zel. I remember everything about you." Klopp took a basket of strawberries and a carton of milk out of the fridge. "It's normal."
He glanced back at Buvac, who was staring at him as if he were crazy. "It...is normal, isn't it?"
"No, it's not normal! I remember some stuff about you, but not everything. I don't remember how you liked your coffee, your weird pyjamas, or how many blankets you liked on your bed. I didn't need to remember those, because we weren't together anymore." Buvac found the food blender and plugged it into the wall, then plugged it out so he could wash the emulsion cup. "Why did you remember?”
"Because…” Klopp’s voice trailed off as he looked out into the cafeteria. Upon seeing that nobody had come for breakfast yet, he walked out of the kitchen and across the cafeteria to close the doors. Buvac followed him the entire way. Only then did Klopp continue, leaning against one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and staring out at the training pitch.
"I never forgot you, Zel. When you left, I still acted like you'd just gone on vacation and would come back. The only reason that I tried to contact you, almost to the point of stalking, is because I believed that we could talk things out. If you'd answered even one of those messages and told me you never wanted us to see or talk to each other again, I would've stopped. I believed that you were going to come back, at least for the first three years."
"But what happened? After three years, I mean?" Buvac prodded on. He still held the emulsion cup, half-covered with suds and waiting to be rinsed fully. "What changed?"
"Never mind, Zel. It was a dumb thing to say.”
"Tell me anyway."
"After…you know what happened, I wrote you a letter.”
"Yuri, I don't know what happened.”
"Of course you don't know!" Klopp snapped, throwing the dishcloth he'd carried from the kitchen to the floor. "You would've known if you'd read one of those goddamn letters from 2021! But you never even cared to read that letter I sent you!”
Buvac's eyes widened as he took a couple of shaky steps back. "The one in the grey envelope? I thought that was a bit strange, considering how you always sent me colourful envelopes. I mean, I never read your letters--"
"Well, no kidding, Sherlock!"
"Hey, take it easy."
"Don't tell me to take it easy! Would you be able to take it easy if you thought that your best friend didn't care about you?”
"I never said—”
"That's right, you never said anything at all. You noticed the deviation from the pattern and you didn't care to put two and two together by reading the news." Klopp's voice cracked as he stared up at the ceiling. "I wrote that one to you when...when my mum passed. For three years then, I'd desperately wanted us to be together, but at that time I didn't just want you. I needed you, and...you never answered that letter. You didn't even call or text me, and I stopped believing you were coming back."
"I..." Buvac looked and sounded like a deflated balloon. "You should've given up on me."
"That's what everybody told me whenever I mentioned you. And I tried, I really did. But every time I thought I was done with you, I'd look at the boys. They make mistakes, but they always manage to forgive each other and continue loving without a problem. The ones who left always came back." Klopp glanced at the wall of photos, his gaze resting on the squad pictures from each year. “And every time, I would think to myself, maybe this is a sign that you'll come back."
"But I never did." Buvac looked at Klopp with a mix of guilt and sadness. "I'm sorry, Yuri. I had no idea. I wish I'd read that letter, I wish I'd read all of the letters. I wish I had been there for you."
"It's too late for that now," Klopp said, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat, plucked the dishcloth from the floor, and opened the door again. "But it's okay."
"It's not okay!" Buvac yelled all of a sudden, grabbing Klopp's shoulder and turning him around so he could face him. "We're not around the others now, you don't have to pretend so they won't worry. I hurt you really badly for years. You have the right to feel…whatever you're feeling now."
"Look, Zel, if I did, I'd be miserable for a long while. But I'm tired of being miserable all the time. You're here now, and that's what matters." Klopp took Buvac's hand and squeezed it. "I like it when you're here."
Buvac smiled weakly. "Me too. And I promise, I'll make it up to you. Starting with remembering what you love again."
"You already remember things, Zel. You remembered my nicknames, you remembered how early I woke up in the morning. Heck, you found where the kitchen is even though you've never set foot in here.”
"There’s literally a map of Kirkby pasted onto the door of your room.”
“That’s Milly’s work. And it's still better than knowing nothing, or not caring to know anything.” Klopp suddenly grew quiet, cupping his hand to his ear with a grin. “The boys are waking up. Let's make breakfast before they come running down the stairs.”