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Daehyun was dreaming. Or so he thought.
He had been wandering for what felt like an eternity, merely observing. The last thing he remembered was the blinding light of a car headlight. The next moment, he was floating, watching his own body hooked up to multiple machines on a hospital bed.
Since then, he had been wandering. No one ever saw him. He never felt sleepy or tired. He had no desires. He just felt…
...empty.
So empty.
They said when people die, their spirits move on when they have no regrets. But he wasn’t dead—not in the way he understood. His body was still technically alive, sustained by machines. He didn’t know how to move on. There was supposed to be a light from the sky, shining upon him, guiding his soul to heaven. That’s how he thought it would be. Instead, he was stuck here.
He doesn’t complain though. It's not too bad being like this. Like a dream, he hadn’t been able to wake up from.
It was just painfully empty.
There was a loud crash. A body was thrown, slamming against the front of a locker, knocking over the basket of mops and dirty water.
The noise jolted him from his daydreaming.
“Watch where you’re going, pipsqueak.”
Here it is again. He rolled his eyes. He’s been watching this person. A high schooler, just a little younger than him. His name was Yoo Youngjae. The boy was simple, mundane to the core. His family was poor, and he went to school with nothing but a threadbare backpack and a few second-hand books. His uniform was worn, torn apart, and sewn back together many times. His shoes had holes in them, and his coat barely kept out the cold. Though Youngjae was smart, he had to admit it. He landed at this school with a full scholarship and his grade never went below an A.
He just wished this boy would have some gut to fight back a little.
“Look at the rag you’re wearing. Not even worth cleaning my shoe,” that guy who was stomping on top of Youngjae was sneering, snickering. There was a distinct pleasure on his face from the abuse. “Talk about being pathetic.”
That guy kicked Youngjae on the back of his head again, and Youngjae yelped. He stomped his leg on Youngjae’s back and put more weight into it. He smiled derisively. The act put a smile on his face. His so-called ‘brother’ joined him in the act and Youngjae was doubled on all fours with hands on his head protectively. His body was drenched in dirty water.
Daehyun shook his head and sighed helplessly. “Not a single soul wanted to help you.” He looked at the bystanders who were frozen in fear. They did not look away nor lifted a single finger.
He flew into the heart of the crowd and stopped in an inclined position, his head turned downward, right in front of Youngjae’s face. His translucent body merged with the crowd. “Get up buddy, you’re the only one who can help yourself.”
Youngjae’s gaze changed. Daehyun noticed it almost immediately. He could see through the gap between the fingers grabbed protectively on his head. His brow furrowed and his eyes were sharp and intense and it looked like it was directed toward Daehyun.
Or so he thought. He turned his head and the bullies were right behind him. “Yeah, that’s a good angry, intense look you have there,” he encouraged enthusiastically. “Now you only need to find your inner strength.”
“Why are you so quiet today?” The bullies mocked again. “You were so loud the other day. Moan again for me you piece of shit,” they laughed ecstatically.
“You see, I would love to help you but look,” Daehyun swung his arm up and down in between the bullies’ bodies for demonstration and it went through. “I can do absolutely nothing.”
Youngjae shifted his posture, his body curled up even more, and his arms now covered both his ears and head.
“No, no, no,” Daehyun raised his voice dramatically. He doesn’t even know why he’s so invested in this. “Don’t do it. Don’t do it!.”
The bully laughed. “Come on, are you scared? What a pussy,” he kicked Youngjae on the back. “Oi, get up.”
“Get up, Youngjae, you can do it,” Daehyun encouraged. Youngjae’s body was starting to shake.
“Get up!”
“What a loser.”
“You can’t let them bully you like that.”
“Pathetic.”
“Get up. Oi!”
“Oh shut up!” Youngjae burst out of his fetus cage in rage. He was fuming. Gas practically escaped from his ears. “You’re all so annoying!
Youngjae grabbed the mop that was lying on the floor and swung it viciously over one of the bully's heads. He’s like a professional baseball player. Daehyun could almost hear a round of applause going over his head as Youngjae hit the home run.
~උ1004ろ~
Youngjae was sitting on the stairs at the front of his school applying ointments on the bruises. His brow furrowed as he winced in pain.
“That bruise is going to take a long time to heal,” Daehyun hissed, pointing to the bruise that was darkened black and blue.
Youngjae didn’t reply, he was sitting with his head down, busied with the bandages.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect you to lash out like that. That’s the first time. I was surprised, you know?” He said, laying flat in the air on his stomach, leaning his head on his arm. “If the teacher hadn’t come there in time, you'd be dead meat,” he shook his head. “Thank God.”
Youngjae still didn’t reply to him. He sighed. Disappointed.
“What did I expect?” He moved closer inspecting Youngjae’s hand work in applying bandages. “You’re pretty skilled, huh?” He complimented. It was to be expected. Youngjae’s been doing this all the time.
“I wish you would talk to me,” he whispered quietly, continuing his monologue. “I’m just a little …”
He stopped because Youngjae looked up and he realized how close they were. Daehyun could see his own reflection in the stars of his eyes.
Oh no. Oh no.
He knew Youngjae was pretty, but WOW. The word almost came out of his mouth.
“...lonely,” was what he was able to muttered.
He stared and stared, his eyes fixed on Youngjae. He watched as Youngjae’s face flushed bright red, blood rushing from his neck to his cheeks. Youngjae’s irises trembled slightly as if he were surprised too.
“You… You can see me?” he asked hesitantly.
His question was answered when Youngjae turned away. “Hey, you can see me, right?” He shifted his body to face Youngjae, but Youngjae kept turning away from him. If he flew to the left, Youngjae turned to the right. If he flew to the right, Youngjae turned to the left.
They went back and forth, with him chasing Youngjae’s gaze while Youngjae’s flush grew redder and redder. “You can definitely see me. Hey!”
Youngjae stood up abruptly, stuffed everything into his backpack, and walked away.
“I know you can hear me. Can we please talk for a minute?” He flew in front of Youngjae, trying to stop him from walking away. “Stop ignoring me,” he yelled.
“What?” Youngjae snapped, stopping abruptly and glaring at him.
“Umm,” now that Youngjae finally stopped and listened to him, he suddenly didn’t know what to say. “You’re very handsome?”
Youngjae was speechless. “You are worth ignoring,” he huffed and walked right through his body.
“Say, earlier when you were,” he stopped for a second finding the right word. “At the corridor by those lockers. You were glaring at me, right?” He said, walking side by side with Youngjae. “I saw your gaze under your fingers and I thought I was wrong but you were looking at me, right?”
“Is me talking to a ghost that excites you that much?” Youngjae raised his eyebrows so high that they were one tick away from flying away.
“What? No. I’m not dead.”
“Then what are you?” Youngjae asked hesitatingly.
“Your…spirit guardian?” He tilted his head to one side, grinning ear to ear.
Youngjae opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he opened it again, but no sound was coming out. Daehyun could see there was some serious debating happening inside this guy's head because there was a series of disjointed expressions flashed on this person's face. Finally, Youngjae turned away and rubbed a frustrated hand through his hair.
“Doesn’t it sound good in your ears?” He smiled brightly, trying to ignore the awkwardness of this situation.
“My arse, you were just stalking me,” Youngjae avoided his eyes and turned his head in the opposite direction.
“Come on,” he swung his arms exaggeratedly in a disappointed gesture. “I was seriously rooting for you back there.”
“By yapping into my ears?”
“Exactly.”
Youngjae snorted. “You are ridiculous,” he said with a hand covering his mouth. A small laugh escaped from his lips.
~උ1004ろ~
He was back in Youngjae’s room that night, watching him from behind. Youngjae was hunched over his desk, writing intently on a piece of paper, his pencil moving steadily across the page. The dim light from the desk lamp cast soft shadows, highlighting the focused expression on his face. He was probably doing homework.
“You’re back again,” Youngjae said, with his back facing him.
Daehyun jolted in surprise, he didn’t expect Youngjae to notice him.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I just remembered that I have to introduce myself to you.”
“Yoo Youngjae,” the pretty boy turned around.
He tried to grab the hand that Youngjae extended, but his own hand went through it like he was grasping thin air. He smiled awkwardly. “Jung Daehyun.”
~උ1004ろ~
There was a new routine for Daehyun. Every morning, he would return to the hospital to watch over his own body, feeling a deep, aching longing to live again. He missed the simple sensations of life—the warmth of the sun on his skin, the taste of food, the rhythm of his heartbeat. He wanted to sing again. He missed his bandmates. It felt surreal because not a week ago he was feeling empty to the core. Maybe the whole thing was just him being stuck in a dream. Each day he had hoped that when he opened his eyes, it would not be in some random alley, but the ceiling of his hospital room. His days were a repetitive blur of floating aimlessly, unseen and unheard. But every night, he found himself drawn back to Youngjae.
Perhaps he was unheard for so long, living like a shadow. Youngjae’s presence sparked a new hope in his heart. He felt the loneliness that was eating him inside smoothened every time they were together.
“Your third question is wrong,” he said, hovering above Youngjae’s head. “It’s not C, it's an A.”
Youngjae flipped his test paper over, giving it a short glance, then flipped it over again.
“Trust me, Youngjae-ah,” Daehyun urged. “It's not every day you get a chance to receive help like this. Over half of your class chose an A,” he made his point.
Youngjae looked conflicted. Daehyun studied his face, noticing something peculiar. Youngjae's expression was a unique mosaic of emotions. His eyebrows conveyed one thing, his eyes another, and his mouth something entirely different.
This was fascinating.
“Have you seen Picasso’s painting?” He flew closer, studying Youngjae’s face. “Cause yours looks no different.”
He saw Youngjae quickly fix his answer from a C to an A. There was nothing out of the ordinary from his movements, but the tip of his ears was bright red.
A few days later, Youngjae received his test. The answer to the third question was a C and not an A.
He didn’t forget the look that Youngjae gave him. It was the same look that he often give people for being dumbass.
~උ1004ろ~
Youngjae was bright red. He looked like he was about to combust. Daehyun thought he was embarrassed to ask Daehyun to accompany him outside.
“Go out with me,” Youngjae muttered.
“To where?” Daehyun asked.
“No,” Youngjae tried again. “I meant, go out with me.”
“Sure,” Daehyun nodded his head vigorously. “Where do you want to go?”
“...”
Did he get it wrong?
Youngjae didn’t reply. Then came the silence. Youngjae was staring at him continuously. Daehyun swallowed, shifting his gaze to the ground. He fidgeted awkwardly with his feet in the air.
Youngjae sighed. “Forget it,” he said finally after two full minutes of staring.
“...are we still going?”
He was on the mountain about three and a half hours later. They were trekking up the steep path, Daehyun reluctantly following. He had been against the idea of climbing the mountain after the sun went down, but Youngjae insisted. Youngjae held a flashlight in one hand and carried a backpack. The route was stiff, sweat drenched his shirt. Daehyun pretended to walk beside him, hoping that the illusion of another person's presence would be a good motivation.
“Are we nearly there yet?” Daehyun asked, looking into the shadows of the trees.
“We’re nearly there,” Youngjae nodded, his breath coming in heavy pants. “Besides, what are you afraid of? Has your idiocy manifested itself into physical form? If it's true that’ll be kinda scary.” He huffed.
“Hey,” insulted, Daehyun spatted back. “I’m not stupid.”
“Yes, you are. You’re the person who looked at everyone’s test and still gave me the wrong answer.”
… shit. He couldn’t argue against that.
“Well?” Youngjae teased, raising an eyebrow.
“You looked tired, how about we take a short break?” He said, determined to change the subject.
Youngjae flashed a small smile. "I’ll be fine. Besides, it’s nice having you with me," he said, running a hand through his sweat-soaked bang.
They continued to ascent. The route continued to tilt and the trees were thinning, the flashlight on Youngjae’s hand was bouncing with each step. Finally, they reached a small clearing near the summit. Youngjae dropped his backpack and collapsed onto a fallen tree, breathing heavily. Daehyun floated beside him, his gaze fixed on the stars.
“How was it?”
“It’s pretty.”
A smile spread across Youngjae’s lips. “I’m glad you like it. Usually, there are fireflies here in the summer,” he said, his eyes lighting up in nostalgia.
“Fireflies?” Daehyun echoed, intrigued.
“Yeah,” Youngjae continued. “They come out when it’s warm and humid, just after sunset. The whole place lights up like a dream.”
Daehyun imagined the scene, the darkened mountain illuminated by thousands of tiny, glowing lights. He smiled at the thought. “That sounds magical.”
“It is,” Youngjae nodded and smiled again. Daehyun looked at his smile and thought it could rival all those fireflies. “I hope you get to see it with me someday,” Youngjae added, his eyes shimmering with a hopeful glint.
Daehyun felt a warmth spread through him, he couldn’t help but feel mind-numbing fond. “I’d like that,” he replied softly. “I really would.”
“Here, I wanted to show you this,” Youngjae rummaged through his bag and pulled out a battered notebook.
“Are these...” Daehyun leaned closer. “Songs?”
“Yeah,” Youngjae nodded. “I write them here whenever I feel sad, happy, or just overwhelmed.” He paused, tracing the edges of the worn cover. “It helps me express what I can’t say out loud.”
“I—I have a band,” Daehyun confessed, his voice a bit hesitant.
Youngjae looked up, eyes widening with interest. “Really?”
“I’m the lead singer,” Daehyun said, a hint of pride in his tone. “There’s Yongguk Hyung who would write the most beautiful song. Then there’s Jonguppie and Junhonggie and…you know,” he smiled wistfully, gestured to his ethereal form. “It was all before this.”
“It sounds like you had a close-knit group.”
“Yeah,” Daehyun replied, his gaze drifting downward. “We were like family. We played together, laughed together, and even argued together. I could introduce you to them,” he suggested.
Youngjae smiled gently. “I would like that.”
“Me too,” Daehyun raised his head, his gaze steadily met Youngjae’s own. Everything seems to melt away.
The look that Youngjae gave him was softer than morning dews. If he was in his body, how fast would his heart raced? Would Youngjae’s heartbeat match his own? He looked down at Youngjae’s hand on the notebook. He wanted to hold it so damn bad.
Noticing Daehyun’s gaze, Youngjae slowly extended his hand towards him. Daehyun raised his own, and their hands met in the middle, their fingers brushing in a ghostly touch.
“This is ridiculous,” Daehyun whispered, a small laugh escaped his lips.
“Yeah,” Youngjae agreed. “So wake up quickly.”
~උ1004ろ~
They were inseparable after that. Daehyun would follow Youngjae to wherever he went. He liked how close they were in a span of four weeks. He noticed that Youngjae would make fun of him whenever he could. He was sassy, and would laughed without control whenever Daehyun tell something funny. The only time when they were separated was when Youngjae was asleep. That was when Daehyun would comeback to his bed in the hospital.
“Hey, Daehyun,” Youngjae called enthusiastically. “Look at this—”
He turned his head and saw Youngjae’s expression morphed into a far more serious, devastated expression. He dropped the magazine, ran up to him and slammed both his hand on the ground.
“What?”
“I’m not mistakened,” Youngjae said, mortified. “You’re fading.”
Daehyun’s heart pounded wildly as he stared at his hands, his mind reeling between disbelief and terror.
“Daehyun!” Youngjae’s voice cut through the air, a mix of panic and desperation. His eyes were wide, and his bottom lip trembled. “What’s happening?”
“I—I don’t know!” Daehyun’s voice cracked.
Suddenly, an invisible force yanked at him, sending waves of excruciating pain through his body. He crumpled to the floor, gasping and clutching at his chest as though he were being torn apart from within.
“Daehyun!?” Youngjae’s cry was a plea, his voice breaking as he reached out in vain.
The agony intensified, a relentless pulling sensation that felt like it was tearing him inside out. Through the blinding torment, Daehyun’s vision wavered, a storm of tears blurring everything around him.
When he finally managed to open his eyes again, he had to blink repeatedly to clear the haze of his tears. Youngjae’s face came into focus, etched with a look of sheer horror.
Did he…die?
“I’m sorry,” was what he managed to say before submitting to the darkness.
~උ1004ろ~
Youngjae was running.
He had never run this fast before. Not when Daehyun faded and disappeared right infront of him. He couldn’t place the phone call 911, Daehyun wasn’t even a ‘human’. His real body lay comatose in a hospital bed. What could he possibly say? Panic and confusion gripped him—he couldn’t touch Daehyun, couldn’t help him, and he was utterly lost. So, he ran. He was desperate. Desperate for something, anything, that could bring him closer to an answer.
Dimply, he registered Daehyun had told him the name of the hospital he was lying in.
“I’m sorry!” Youngjae gasped, skidding to a halt as he reached the hospital counter,clasping its edges with both hands. “I need to see a patient!”
The receptionist looked up, startled by his urgency. “Calm down, sir. What’s the patient’s name?”
“Jung Daehyun,” he replied, his voice trembling with desperation. “Please, it’s an emergency.”
The receptionist quickly typed into her computer, her expression turning serious. “Jung Daehyun… Jung Daehyun... Ah, here it is. Room 286, second floor.”
Youngjae didn’t wait for any further instructions. He bolted toward the elevators.
“Daehyun!” Youngjae shouted as he slammed open the door. He was expecting anything but—
Daehyun was sitting on his bed in a hospital gown, looking much thinner than the Daehyun he remembered. One of his arms was hooked to a saline drip, and there were three pairs of curious eyes staring at him.
“Uh…” Daehyun started, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Can I have a moment with him?” He asked, turning to the three people beside him. “He’s a…friend.”
After they left, an uneasy silence filled the room. Youngjae was the first to move. He hurried over and knelt down, grabbing one of Daehyun’s cold hands. “I thought I lost you,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
“I’m sorry,” Daehyun said softly. “I was surprised too.”
“You should be,” Youngjae replied, feeling his nose tingling with the threat of tears.
“Did you run all the way here to see me?” Daehyun asked, managing a weak smile as he ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.
“Yeah, dumbass, I thought you died or something,” Youngjae said, his emotions spilling over. “I just had to see you and—”
“Alright, stop. Stop,” Daehyun interrupted, gripping Youngjae’s hand tighter. “Youngjae, look at me,” he said gently, and Youngjae melted at the sound of his voice. “I’m holding your hand.”
Youngjae looked down. They were touching each other. Daehyun’s hand was cold, but it was real. It was Daehyun’s hand. He no longer had to imagine what it would be like to touch him.
He slowly tilted his head up, meeting Daehyun’s gaze. Millions of thoughts raced through his mind, but they all halted when their eyes locked.
He wasn’t going to let go. They would never be separated again.
~උ1004ろ~
Daehyun was discharged after a month, and he was back to his usual self. He looked a little better, less bony and much healthier. His cheeks had regained some color, and there was a new energy in his steps that hadn't been there before. Youngjae had learned that the three people he met last time were Daehyun’s bandmates: Yongguk, Jongup, and Junhong. They had been visiting frequently, bringing food, laughter, and stories from their time together.
Now, Youngjae was taking a walk with Daehyun in the park. It was a sunny day, with a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves. Daehyun wore a light jacket, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. The birds were chipping, the trees were green and swaying, there weren’t that many people around, perfect backdrop for what Youngjae had planned.
He was nervous. Super nervous.
He had planned this for the whole month. After the failed confession he had weeks ago, he was determined to get it right this time. He fiddled with a piece of paper in his pocket. It was a romantic, handwritten love confession he was going to read for Daehyun. He was going to sing a song, get down on one knee, read the confession, ask him to go out with him and eat the strawberry cake be just bought. Cause why not?
Nothing could go wrong. It was direct and straightforward. He couldn’t go wrong with this. The park was Yongguk’s idea, the song was Jongup’s idea, and the confession was Junhong’s idea. He was going to blame all of this on them if it failed.
“Youngjae-ah, are you worried about something?” Daehyun asked.
“Uhh,” Youngjae took a deep breath. It has to be now. It has to be now. "Daehyun, can we sit for a moment?" he asked, pointing to a nearby bench.
Daehyun nodded, looking a bit puzzled but agreeing. "Sure, what's up?"
Youngjae's heart pounded as he pulled out the piece of paper. He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. "I've got something to say... uh…"
He took a deep, deep breath and clicked the play button on his phone.
“Every day I only think of you
I tried to forget you, but I can’t do it, girl
Even though I try to hide my mind
I can’t stop thinking about a girlIf I see you, I’m shy, you are always shining
You’re glowing oh my girl
Why don’t you know how I feel
I’ll confessI only love you my girl
Stay with me my love
I promise you, I’ll protect you anytime
You are my shining star”
Youngjae unfolded his slip of paper and about to get on one knees when Daehyun ask.
“What’s this? Did you hear this in some KDrama?”
“What? No,” he snapped. “It’s B.A.P’s My Girl.”
“This cheesy song?”
“Yes. But that’s not the point. The point is the message,” he pointed out. “The message,” he repeated.
“The message?” Daehyun said, then pointed his finger toward the slip of paper in Youngjae’s hand. “And what is that?”
“Nothing!” Youngjae stuffed the paper into his back pocket and prayed that it would suffocate and die in there.
“Look at me,” he said, getting back right on track. He pulled Daehyun’s hand and guided him to step closer to him. “I’m explaining, so listen, okay?”
Daehyun nodded furiously.
“The message is, idiot, is that you’re,” he pointed to the middle of Daehyun’s chest and gave it a little push and then to himself. “My Girl,” he spelled.
“But I’m not a girl,” Daehyun said, dumbfounded.
“Noo, idiot,” Youngjae said, gripping his head. He jumped up and down frustratingly, stomping his feet on the ground. Why did he chose this song? This is Jongup's fault. “Not ‘My Girl’ part. The point is that I love you,” he yelled and he could feel it. The heat rose on his cheeks until his face was redder than the strawberries on top of the cake that he had just bought.
Daehyun didn’t reply. He looked at him with his eyes widened, his mouth opened, agape. But he could see signs of comprehension dawning upon Daehyun’s face.
Honestly, Youngjae just thought he looked stupid.
He’s trying hard to ignore how a supposedly ‘romantic’ setup for a confession had been turned into a ridiculous show-and-tell sitcom. What was he expecting, setting up a romantic confession show for someone who couldn’t even connect the dots even when the step-by-step instruction was slapping right in front of his face?
“Do you need me to spell it out? I love you! You’re ‘My Girl’. You are my shining star. Dumbass.”
Daehyun was now grinning. Youngjae watched as his flush came shooting down from the tips of his ears to his neck.
“I love you too.”