Chapter Text
In a universe of multiple timelines and infinite possibilities, Choi Soobin finds Choi Yeonjun. Yeonjun isn't quite sure why it happens, or even how it starts, but he knows with an unrelenting certainty that it's true. Smiling, he closes his eyes and lets himself fall .
The descent isn't nearly as scary as he thought it would be- the wind whips past him, frigid and cold, like an icy kiss. He can still feel the blood clinging onto his fingers, a quiet reminder of the corpse he left, broken, bloodied and cooling on the rooftop he just leapt off. He tries to ignore the mounting pressure behind his eyes, ignore the tears threatening to fall. He feels as though something has been ripped out of him, and Yeonjun doesn't dare to remember why. Instead, he basks in the cold; a fleeting embrace, as he bids goodbye to this place: I'll see you again -
Choi Yeonjun woke up with a start. Sweat clings onto every crevice of his body, and despite the sweltering summer he's in, everything feels cold. That can't…that can't be me, can it? The world around him seems bleary, nearly droll. He should be used to it by now— he's woken up like this every single night in the last week, ever since he saw him. Soft cheeks, a rabbit-like smile, and eyes so soft Yeonjun felt like he could sink into them any minute. He spotted him from across the hall in the academy, and ever since then, Yeonjun couldn't get the image of him out of his head. He was hauntingly familiar, like Yeonjun had met him before. Like he knew him, before— like they were more than strangers. Without knowing how he knew, Yeonjun remembered one thing: his name is Choi Soobin.
The contents of the dream come back to haunt Yeonjun, the familiar feeling of blood in his hands, except this time the blood wasn't his own. It was Soobin's. Yeonjun wasn't sure how he knew, but he was certain of it. But that wasn't possible, was it? He wasn't a villain— he might have gripes with the Hero system in general, but there was no way Yeonjun would stoop so low as to kill someone, would he?
But there was something undeniably real to it, and Yeonjun couldn't shake off the feeling it was just a dream. It felt more like a memory, something traced into his bones and engraved into his sinew. Who was I? Why did I?
A million questions swirled around his mind, but nothing seemed to trigger a memory. Yeonjun felt like he was looking through a fractured mirror— he got nothing but glimpses, a distorted reality. He'd never talked to Choi Soobin once in the Academy, but he knew he was one of the rising heroes. His name was plastered everywhere across the news- civilians fangirled over his good looks, and even Yeonjun had to admit he was cute— his dimples and soft cheeks made him look fluffy, and his smile was blinding. Meanwhile, Yeonjun was just a sidekick. They were worlds apart. By any means, it should have been impossible for Yeonjun to kill him, given the supposedly weaker extent of his powers, and yet…
The memory of blood on his fingers was too familiar, too real for him to simply ignore it. How Yeonjun had done it then eluded him, all he knew was simply that he did . The image of the younger man collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut haunted his memories, chilling Yeonjun to the bone. Why did I kill you? Who are you to me?
He glanced down at his hands. Pale, scarred hands stared back at him in the dim glow of moonlight that shifted through the cheap window panes of the Academy dorm, devoid of any crimson. Was it possible- Yeonjun became increasingly aware of his own wretched heartbeat, a loud unfettering thump in his ears that seemed to accelerate with every passing moment. It can't be , no matter what, Yeonjun couldn't possibly betray his best friend- he couldn't betray Beomgyu, not after everything.
Just on cue, Yeonjun hears Beomgyu's holler right before he hears the alarm: “ Get your ass up, Yeonjun-hyung! We've got a villain to fight!”
Hearing this, Yeonjun groans. “Seriously?” The older boy bet he could guess which villain it was, because they'd been fighting the same villain for months , something they never did. They were usually more effective than this, but someone was distracted.
Okay, that wasn't entirely true. Taehyun (or “The Mind”) was brilliant in his own right, and would be a formidable villain in his own right. But if Yeonjun was allowed to do anything besides stand at the side like a referee in any of their fights, Yeonjun was pretty sure they'd have defeated him by now. It was true that Beomgyu and Taehyun were pretty evenly matched, but Beomgyu shooing him away from the villain's “pretty face” every five seconds was not helping. If Yeonjun weren't as exasperated as he was with this nonsense, he'd probably be amused by how bewitched Beomgyu was. Amidst sword fights and throwing punches, Yeonjun still caught the younger man watching the villain with hearts in his eyes, his eyes following him with a fervence that denoted infatuation, borderline obsession. They seemed to unlock something feral in one another that Yeonjun couldn't quite comprehend, something Yeonjun knew to be primal. He just wondered if they figured it out yet.
Not that it really mattered, because if he wasn't ready in five minutes, Beomgyu would haul his ass out in his pyjamas, either ways. Sighing, Yeonjun shook his head, changing out of his fluffy pyjamas into a boring tank top and cargo pants, before putting on the heavier parts of his gear- an armour like jacket, a second pair of thicker pants with whatever weapons Yeonjun needed strapped to it. As a bonus, they were also bulletproof— not that that helped much, because most villains were either using more advanced technology, or continuing to challenge Heroes in a duel, one of the rare cases where Yeonjun would agree the Theory of Evolution actually prevailed, because most Villains who chose to duel rarely made it out alive .
But what does it mean to be alive? Is it enough to fight? Yeonjun tries not to think too hard about it, because he knows it's a rabbit hole he's not quite ready to jump into just yet. Is living the same as being alive?
The answer eludes him, because there's nothing certain in living besides change. All he knows is that he balances on the tightrope between life and death every day.
“Yeonjun-hyung! Get out now!” Sighing, shakes his head. Reflexively, he picks up the metal pendant on his neck and kisses it, just for luck. He isn't quite sure when he started, but he's never quite questioned it either.
“I'm on my way!” he yells back, opening the door and sprinting out to greet Beomgyu, who's attired similarly, basically vibrating with excitement that basically screams to Yeonjun he's going to spend a long day either trying to referee the two idiots, or trying to get a hit on The Mind without getting maimed by Beomgyu. If Taehyun has backup, he'll have to fight them off too, or at least immobilise them so they can move onto fighting Taehyun, and then stop, escape, and continue indefinitely- A sidekick's job is never finished until they're dead, after all.
But sidekicks aren't meant to survive as long as he has, and Yeonjun knows this the way he knows the back of his hand. He’s living on borrowed time, that much he knows. But next to Beomgyu, and fighting crime, maybe it's enough to keep him alive. And as he walks towards the door, everything else seems to fade away.
It'll be okay.