Chapter Text
When people hear that Kim Roksoo had Hanahaki surgery, they often ask if he knew who it was that he gave to.
Like clockwork, he'd answer, "I don't remember", because that was the truth. What was he supposed to say? Getting Hanahaki surgery meant forgetting all about them.
Roksoo shakes his head and sighs,
'It's like they have no common sense.'
Asking about someone he could not, and should not remember was stupid.
But people are curious, and they do not care about you.
So, when Director Ma approaches him with a photograph in hand, his intuition immediately told him that this was nothing good.
Still, he indulged him, because this was his boss and he didn't want to get fired.
"Director." He greets.
"Hah- Roksoo!! Cm'ere, why didn't you tell me your husband was one beautiful guy hah?" His boss laughed, slapping his back.
Roksoo barely smiles back, he professionalism being the only thing from hurling a fist at his boss. "I'm afraid I have forgotten his face, so I wouldn't be able to tell you how he looked, sir."
"Here, Sector E recovered multiple data files before the world went ta bits. Got this one printed out for ya since you're always saying you can't remember who the hell made you choke on those fucking petals- Anyway, make sure you submit that folder by Monday, yeah?"
The bastard shoved the image into his hands, walking off before he could say anything to refute or refuse.
'That asshole…' Roksoo groans internally,
The paper is soft in his hands, the image seemingly printed on regular A4. He could crumple it, throw it away without sparing a second to look at it. But Roksoo's hands still, refusing to move.
He recalls the various warnings of his hyungs, brief conversations of them telling him not to look at anything anyone claims to be from his past lover- that the slightest reminder could kill him. That he couldn't, under any circumstances risk his life for a memory.
But…
He swallows.
Temptation gnaws at his gut, his conscience screaming at him to look-
….
Well, it's not like an image will make him remember everything, wouldn't it? At most, it would be like seeing a new person again.
His eyes land on the photo, eyes widening slightly at the image of the other person.
Short, styled red hair, eyes like his own, crinkled into crescents as his mouth curved into a beautiful smile, he was wearing a loose, oversized tee, a bold graphic design pasted right on the center. As Roksoo's eyes glided down, he spots a mole on the photographed man's neck, just above his collarbone.
His breath hitches,
"What the hell…"
He shakes his head, looking away.
His hyungs were right.
It only took one look, and immediately, Roksoo could feel himself wanting to know him- wanting to see the red haired man around, to ask him things, to know him better.
"…This is dangerous." He murmurs,
Despite the hesitation in his heart, he chucks the image into the nearest trash can.
It's better if he doesn't see anything.
Three weeks have passed since then.
He submitted his report on time, did his rounds at work, at home, didn't say anything and pretended like nothing happened.
Still, there was this unnerving itch at the back of his mind- an urge to seek out something.
Or more accurately, someone.
He started lingering in random spots, staring at the empty space beside him, buying things for two instead of one, looking ahead of him as if there was a person he needed to follow and protect, getting off work early due to the nagging sensation that someone was waiting for him at home- only to come back to an empty house, just as he always had.
And that feeling….
He wanted to see that read haired man, the one with bright, gleaming eyes and sharp collarbones, the one who captured his attention so rapidly he almost didn't know how to look away.
Roksoo doesn't know if he wants to experience being trapped into that man's visage again, or avoid him entirely.
Like alcohol- like poison. It felt like he would slip into indulgence far too easily, far too glad to be ensnared by his velvet hair and coy smile. A temptation so alluring, he would rather let himself burn than not see the light of it at all.
Roksoo's hand grips his mug, the desire to seek traces of the man he might have once loved being barely held back by his rationality.
Taking deep breathes and closing his eyes, he tries to focus.
He tries to think of his life now, the wooden floor beneath his feet, the porcelain under his fingertips, the dry wind from the open window, the recovering city slowing regaining it's nightlife on the streets below, the coworkers he will see tomorrow, his hyungs, their faces, their voices. Voices that would tell him, warn him about the dangers of-
The… The dangers of…
His head spins, he sees something, it's bright, gentle- yet piercing and painful all the same.
Flashes of ruined buildings. Everything falling apart. Dust, smoke-
The answer-
It's right there, he can feel it.
Roksoo gulps, his fingers trembling.
What… What did he see?
Buildings, he saw buildings. Towers of cement and glass collapsed- everything- from the roads to the trees- splitting apart. A cloud of smoke, dust.. his hands.. His hands they were wet-
His breathing tightens as flashes of memories surge and pierce through his mind, his consciousness still urging him to bear with it, to go further the brief moments of catastrophe-
Red. Bright red-
His chest tightens, Roksoo heaves, but he keeps his eyes closed. More, more. Just a bit more-
Warm, safe, terrifying- blooming in his hands amidst all the chaos-
crack!
"…."
Roksoo gazes at his now broken cup, his honey-lemon tea seeping through the cracks and spilling onto his floor, chest heaving.
He swallows.
…Better make another cup.
(That night, when he goes to bed, he dreams of white, furling petals.)
It's been another week since then.
His coughing has been manageable, a cup of tea here and a tab or two of medication there and he was good as new. A check up with the doctors revealed nothing but a build up of of phlegm and a cut from his insurance savings.
So far, so good.
Roksoo took this as a sign that he could take it a step further. He wouldn't die from this, not if he was careful.
This time, he's looking through his old photo albums. He's not sure what he's looking for- all the ones of his ex partner have been removed and hidden somewhere by Soohyuk and Jungsoo.
Still, he looks through them anyway.
[June 8, 2013]
[July 10, 2013]
[July 29, 2013 ]
Even if it was just a glimpse, just a slither of something- he'll take it.
[August 16, 2013]
[August 27, 2013]
[August 30, 2013]
[October 2, 2013]
All he needs is a spark in his memory.
[October 15, 2013]
[October 29, 2013]
[November 4, 2013]
[November 6, 2013]
[November 8, 2013]
[November 9, 2013]
[December 12, 2013]
Just one spark, and Roksoo will be able to see him again.
[December 25, 2013]
December 29, 2013]
[December 30, 2013]
[January 1, 2014]
Just one, that's all he needs.
Things don't change, not for a while.
His cough persists, but it doesn't get any worse.
His dreams remain the same as well, buildings and sharp glass, smoke and debris flying around.
It never gets further than that.
"Roksoo!"
He turns his head, watching Jungsoo run to him.
"Why are you here?" He asks, "Your break is in 10 minutes"
The other shrugs, digging his hand into his pocket.
"Boss's wife was giving birth- she had to make a leave early." He says.
Roksoo pauses, before nodding. No use dwelling on something that wasn't his business.
"Alright then. What's that you're digging for?"
Choi Jungsoo grins, bringing out his hand and presenting to him a… lollipop?
"Rainbow cuz you're gay, not to mention horrifyingly sweet, just like how you take it."
Roksoo probably makes a face at that, which causes Jungsoo to laugh.
"Love you too, Roksoo- anyway cya! Soohyuk-hyung called me down to help beat up the new trainees then chill at his place. Wanna come?"
Roksoo shakes his head, "No, I have some things to do"
'Like taking a nap' He thought to himself.
Jungsoo laughs, "We'll see you tomorrow then, Roksoo-yah." He says, walking away.
Roksoo walks home, licking his lollipop as he bathes in the warm, sunset rays. Slowing down his pace to watch the leaves that littered the side walk, let his eyes follow the occasional bird he'd see flying, huff at the gentle breeze that brushed his hair- take the time to nod at the construction workers slowly rebuilding the city, one block after the other.
His hand twitches beside him, as if it wanted to reach out to something.
The lollipop Jungsoo gave was almost finished- most of it's bumps and swirls gone, with nothing but a thin layer of sweetness and a few air bubbles to show for.
Roksoo pays no mind, it's not as if they make a difference in taste after all.
Rubbing his eyes, he walks up his doorstep- keeping the lollipop in his mouth as he moves to unlock his gate, then door.
He reaches down to his belt bag, grabbing a bunch of dangling keys and beginning the painstaking process of trying to fit each key into the keyhole until he finds the one that was meant to unlock the door to his house.
Bang!
Roksoo jumps,dropping his keys as he turns around.
On the other side of the street was a woman and a small child, presumably mother and son bending over a box of fallen groceries. Several people have already come to help them pick the fallen goods up.
He groans, facing his door again before bending down to pick up his jumbled mess of fallen keys- his other hand coming up to give his tongue a bit of rest from holding the sweet inside his mouth.
It takes a minute before he finally finds the right key and makes it inside his house, slipping his shoes off with a grin.
He can finally slack off from his shitty job, he thinks to himself, taking one more lick of his lollipop in victory.
".!! Hell-"
'This little shit..'
The candy, staring back at him in it's destroyed and eaten glory, had cut his tongue.
He covers his mouth, feeling the need to protect his tongue from being-
"Roksoo?"
He whips his head around, eyes darting back and forth through the empty room.
"What was-"
His hands tremble, his heart racing- strangely not out of fear, but anticipation.
"Roksoo-yah?" The voice calls again, soft, loving.
With his heart pounding, he closes his eyes, slowly turning towards the voice.
He knew, instinctively, that this was C̵̻̳̀̂̀̋̐̉̊̽̉̏̐̽̅̓̾̆̈͆̚͝_̵̨̦̼̝̥̘̺̺̩͓̬̖̤̜͉̼̳̞̤̩̹͕̝͔̀̅̂͒̇͛͒̊̇̂͛̐̎̄̎̂͂̅̓̾͘̕͜͠-̶̧̰̖̗̜̹͉̖̊̈́͗̐͋̈́͋̓͊̋͛̒̐͆͜͜ͅĺ̶̨̢̨̨̛̲̤͖̹͙̟͙̜͚͚̗̩̼̲̈́̾̈̿͗̄̽̾̅͋̈̃̓͆͌͆͛͑̊͑́͜͠͝͝͠ as he leaned into the touch-
Wait…
Touch?
Gasping, his eyes shoot open as he stumbles backwards.
His back, soaked with cold sweat, hit the wall- Roksoo barely keeping his head stable enough to not bang his head on it as well.
Nothing.
There was no one there.
He swallows, attempting to stabilize his breathing.
'Am I willing to take the risk?'
(Red, he remembers, soft and warm, blazing and infuriating.)
No.
(Roksoo-yah?)
He's not willing to die.
(Won't you stay for a bit longer?)
He's not risking his life over a memory.
Flowers are shoved into his face- white carnations clouding his vision.
"You look so stupid" he hears.
"Wouldn't be the first time" Roksoo replies, looking up to see-
-̶̧̢͙̯͎̟͎̺̪̳̫̤͉̼͚̰̝̪̟̫̒_̷̝̰̟̳͂͋̽̈́̈́̿̏͜͝-̸̢̨̨̢̨͍͇̳̺̜̦̹̗͎̦̪̩̗̭̫̜̲̥̯̪̻̙͇̇͌̈́̆̉́̈́̇̊̀̀͌̚͘͝_̵̢͉̬̤̟̬͎̬̹͔̘̬̠̙͉̖̲͚̥̙̜̦̟̣̙̽͗̆̅̀̓̂̆̃̾͌̽͂̍͐̈͌̍̕̕̕͝
Everything blurs.
Buildings collapse, everything is falling apart. Dust, smoke, blood.. blood, blood- there was so much blood. Red, warm. Red, all over his hands- Red, that's all he can see-