Chapter Text
“Line Twenty Six, Seoul to Busan will be departing from Platform Twelve in one minute. Last call for Line Twenty Six!”
There was a yelp from somewhere near Platform Nine, and the crowd had to part to avoid the scrambling traveler as she darted across the train station. She almost dropped her phone once or twice as her pink flats slapped against the pavement, her purse banging along against her side roughly. MC skidded to a halt in front of the platform, catching her breath and clutching at her knees.
How had she lost track of time so easily? She glanced at her phone as Yoosung shot another worried text into the chat. That was the reason. She huffed and straightened out, walking quickly towards the correct train. Yoosung seemed really worried about Zen, and he'd spent the better part of the past fifteen minutes telling her that someone should visit him at the hospital. She and Zen were friendly, but MC figured it would be better if someone he actually knew visited him, and Jaehee fit the bill. Yoosung figured that, as a boy, he'd be turned away at the door, but due to Zen's weakness for women, MC or Jaehee would be let in. She wasn't sure how Jumin would feel about his assistant taking time to visit the injured actor, but she agreed that Jaehee was the best choice. She was a huge fan of the man's acting, so naturally she would want to help him get better, and the two were already friends. Besides, MC couldn't go because she already had plans.
Still panting slightly, she handed her ticket to the usher and stepped into the car. She'd entered near the middle of the train, where seats were split into rows of four divided in half by a wide path. She paused to check her phone again, comforting Yoosung's antics about not wanting to go to class. Agreeing once more that Jaehee should visit Zen in the hospital, MC bid the college student farewell and put her phone into her purse.
The car doors slid closed behind her, and the train slowly began to take off. She must have been the last passenger, and she thanked her lucky stars she had made it! She was already running late. Looking around, she found the train to be unusually full for a Tuesday around midday. She wondered if she would be able to get her own seats, or if she would have to share. MC didn't terribly mind sitting next to someone, but the ride was three hours long, and she didn't want to bother her seatmate with any future RFA chats or calls she was bound to have.
She passed a few older riders as she walked down the aisle, leaving them in peace. Ideally, she wanted to sit next to someone wearing headphones, but most passengers were either talking to each other, talking on their phones, or, in the case of a few children, bouncing up and down in their chairs. After finding nothing, she entered the next and last car on the train, hoping to find something there. She cursed her luck when she saw no fully open seats, but it looked as though she had better options at least. She was heading for a seat in the back next to a teen with headphones, when she passed someone sleeping and had to double back.
She knew this man from somewhere. Staring down at his limp form, she racked her brain trying to recall where she'd seen him. He was slouching in the window seat, head pressed against the cushions of the open seat next to him and snoring lightly. His jacket was a bit shabby and didn't at all match his trendier tall boots, but what caught her eye most was the young man's face. His dark sunglasses were pressing uncomfortably into his cheek where it rested against the seat. Tousled pale blue hair framed his face and stuck to his forehead. He looked awfully familiar.
Abandoning the teenager in the back, MC carefully lowered herself onto the seat next to this mysterious stranger. Dropping her purse to the floor with a quiet thud, she studied his face further. His lips were parted, letting out a small snore every so often. His slender nose connected to a strong forehead with thin brows. He had high cheekbones that led down to a narrow jawline. She caught herself staring in the reflection of his glasses and blushed. She didn't realize how far forward she'd been leaning, and MC quickly turned away, relaxing into the cushion behind her.
But who was he? She was certain she would remember someone with such striking blue hair. Or perhaps it was a green-turquoise, she couldn't be entirely sure. She couldn't help but stare at it again, either. Her brain was fully stumped, however, on who exactly he was and how she knew him. MC tapped her chin, thinking back on her friends from high school, or even classmates she barely knew. She couldn't remember anyone with blue hair, but perhaps it was a dye job? Which meant it could be virtually anyone. His dark shades didn't help her identify him at all, as his eyes were obscured. Not the she could see the color anyway, as he was sleeping, and since when could she remember random people based on their eye color? Drumming her fingers against her cheek now, MC went through the people she'd met during her college years, but none of them seemed to add up either.
Her purse vibrated against her foot. Probably Yoosung again, she thought. She retrieved her phone and opened the app. Instead of the blond worrying about exams or a LOLOL expedition, she found Jaehee and Jumin arguing. Not surprising, since they seemed to disagree over something at least once a day. She wondered how the two could work together in such close proximity if they were always bickering, watching the texts go back and forth. Jaehee had agreed to visit Zen, but Jumin was refusing. Instead, he wanted his assistant to head up some new coffee project. Which was ridiculous in her opinion, since the project was left specifically to Jumin by his father. But the corporate heir was having none of that and delegating all responsibilities to Jaehee. Not only that, but he was telling her to purposefully slack off just to piss off his father. MC tried to interject on the poor woman's behalf, but it was hard to convince Jumin Han to see any other way than his own. Seeing his assistant lament over being unable to visit Zen, it was again suggested that MC be the one to go to the hospital. She quickly fired back a few texts apologizing and explaining that she had plans all day. Jumin logged out with a quick goodbye, and Jaehee followed suit not long after.
She sighed, her shoulders relaxing and brushing the sleeping man. MC froze, having forgotten that he was there; his snores had mixed with the sounds of the rumbling train cars, or perhaps they had merely lessened. She was fairly certain that he was taller than her, but due to his lazy posture, she had almost nudged his chin with her shoulders. He had sunk into the seat quite a bit during his nap, almost falling over in the chair and propped up only by the cane he held loosely in his hands. He would have dropped it probably, if it hadn't been wedged between his boots.
Gentler in her movements, she looked back to her phone to find she had a new message from Jaehee about stress relief. She had to giggle at that, and she responded with suggestions of warm baths or massages. Hopefully the overworked woman would get a well-deserved break soon so that she could go take care of Zen. Jaehee always gushed over anything related to Zen's movies, musicals, or even his post-workout selfies. They would make such a cute couple.
Grinning to herself, MC resolved to pull out all of the stops to get Jaehee to that hospital, or... better yet, get her to visit Zen at his home! How sweet would that be? She began combing through all of the past pictures Zen had sent and rereading Jaehee's cute reactions. Then she came across a picture that he had sent through a chat with just her. It wasn't one of Zen's normal poses, and he didn't even look particularly glamorous in it. The photo was a few years old, back when Zen was relatively unheard of and still doing small musicals. The picture had come as a surprise, since he didn't realize anyone followed his career yet. But Rika had. Rika had given him flowers and wanted a picture with him. And also in the photograph...
MC practically dropped her phone in shock. She glanced at the man next to her, whose head had lulled even further over onto her headrest; any further and he'd be snoozing on her shoulder. She looked at the picture on her screen again: it was definitely him. Which meant that this person... was V.
Although she was staying in Rika's old apartment, there was no trace of the former RFA member there. Any personal belongings had either been removed (which seemed doubtful, as only Rika and Seven had been here, and Rika was... well, dead , and Seven claimed to have only been over once), or they were hidden away in the forbidden drawers she had promised not to open. The apartment felt almost unlived in, and she wondered if Rika had ever really lived here. Though honestly, she was glad for that; she was already growing tired of being compared to the saintly woman, and being 'surrounded by traces of her'... literally... would have been suffocating. The lack of personal effects meant, however, that there were also no photographs. So she hadn't known what Rika or V looked like until Zen had sent the picture, which she had then promptly forgotten about as it hadn't been important at the time.
V was nothing how she had imagined. She had pictured someone similar to Jumin Han, well-dressed and no-nonsense, though perhaps a bit sad. But this person next to her... he could almost pass as one of those homeless people that lived on the subways and trains. She wondered if maybe in fact he was.
But no, that couldn't be right. Didn't V and Jumin grow up together? And V was a semi-famous photographer whose works were auctioned off at RFA parties for large sums. He couldn't be living on the streets. She felt silly for judging him based on his sleeping habits. He was probably just a passenger like her, maybe even heading to the same place. But how crazy was that for them to be on the same exact train at the same exact time?
Should she say something to the others? Send them a selfie of her and the elusive V? But that didn't feel right; Yoosung had mentioned V to be a private person with secrets, and V might not want the others to know of his train ride. Why he'd care, she didn't know, but she decided against saying anything in the chatroom. Still, she should probably introduce herself or something. Jaehee, and probably the others, were still wary of trusting a stranger with the organization's future, but if V told everyone that they had met, would it clear up any misunderstandings?
His head slid down the plush lining of the seat until his cheek rested in the crook of her neck. MC gripped her phone tightly, carefully looking to the mess of blue hair now directly to her right. His sunglasses had fallen loose and hung from the tips of his ears, and she wondered why he was wearing them inside. She could feel his labored breaths as he slept against her shoulder, the hot air tickling her collarbone. The metal edge of his glasses dug into her skin, but no matter how irritating the sensation was, she stayed as perfectly still as she could. It felt as if one shift or a deep breath might awaken him from his slumber. And he looked so peaceful.
She knew he was still going through a rough period. Yoosung was upset at V's distance after Rika's death, but MC felt she could understand. His entire world had been turned upside down. The woman he loved was gone, and hadn't someone mentioned that they were engaged? She peered at the hands folded over his cane, but she saw no gold band on any of the fingers there. He could have taken it off since, or they may not have been engaged at all. Either way, Rika was his everything, and she had left this world. That must have been heartbreaking. How could they expect V to recover so quickly after only a year?
Checking her phone again, she skimmed past conversations for any mention of V. She found no new information, nothing she hadn't already remembered. He himself hadn't been online for two days; their last conversation had been V setting the party date. Speaking of... She opened her inbox to reply to the few guest emails she'd received earlier that day.
Responding to the guests' queries had taken a surprising amount of time. These party people sure have a lot of elaborate questions, she thought. Checking the clock on her phone, MC saw that they were a little over an hour into her ride; she wondered how long V's trip was and how long he had already been there. After setting the party, he had told Seven he was taking a trip. This trip, she realized, feeling stupid. But... wasn't he supposed to be abroad or something? There wasn't really anything south of Busan, so they could very well be heading to the same destination...
A series of chimes broke through the car noise as her phone went off. Texts and chats had been set to vibrate, but she'd forgotten to mute the calls! The volume wasn't horribly loud, but she fumbled to answer it before V woke. His brows furrowed as he shifted, pressing his nose into the junction between her neck and shoulder blade, and she swallowed nervously.
“Hello!?” she hissed into the receiver, as V sighed in his sleep and let out a breath of warm air.
“MC, why are you whispering?” Yoosung's voice was unnecessarily loud, and she could hear idle chatter in the background as he walked around the campus. “Did you see what Jumin and Jaehee were talking about?”
She laughed softly. “Yoosung, I was there,” she replied knowingly, keeping her voice as quiet as possible.
“Oh... right, haha. Can you believe that guy?” he asked, referring to Jumin. “Making Jaehee take on another workload... and then telling her to purposely mess up! Now she'll never get to visit Zen!”
She huffed. “Is that why you called? To rant about the missed opportunity for matchmaking?”
Yoosung paused sulkily. “Maybe... But even you admit they'd be good together! You barely know them and can already tell~ or maybe this is what you call 'a woman's intuition'?”
She snorted. “What would you know about a woman's intuition?” she teased, laughing when Yoosung stuttered. “Haha, I didn't mean anything by it, honest!”
“Everyone's always so mean!” he cried dramatically, and she could picture him waving his free arm around. “Always saying I'll never get a girlfriend and that I'll be forever alone! I'll find a special someone someday, don't you think?”
“Of course you will, Yoosung,” MC reassured. “But maybe you should spend less time in your room playing LOLOL and more time out actually meeting girls.”
Yoosung let out a series of complaints, but she didn't hear it. It was drowned out by a groan from the man next to her.
“Honey,” V interrupted, voice raspy with sleep. His lips tickled her neck as he spoke. “Can't you just set him up with one of your friends so he'll stop whining...?”
Honey? Surely he wasn't referring to her...? But he was responding to her conversation. Oh. Maybe... did he think she was Rika? That thought was both romantic and sad, that even now he still imagined her with him.
Yoosung's wails broke through her musings. “Hel~lo! Are you still there?” he wondered, all but shouting at this point. “Did I stun you into silence? Or...have I repulsed you?”
“I– what?” she asked, freezing as V shook his head and grumbled. He was beginning to wake up fully.
“I said... it's hard for me to meet girls; you're the first one who's really talked to me in a long time...” He sounded nervous, and slightly hopeful. “So I wondered... if maybe you would like to be my girlfriend...?”
Her brain fizzled, short-circuiting. He wants me to be his...!? His...girlfriend???! Yoosung was sweet and cute, but she wasn't ready for that sort of relationship yet, if at all. They barely knew each other. But she knew he would hang on her every word, and their friendship, and her relations with the entire RFA, could depend on how she handled this. MC stumbled over her words; her tongue was suddenly large and heavy. “I... I...” She heard Yoosung's breathing hitch on the other end of the line. “Yoos-sung, I'm f-flattered,” she managed to stutter at last. “But... We haven't even met yet!” She bit her lip and glanced around. “What if–”
Her brown eyes met electric blue.
V chuckled awkwardly. “Well,” he mumbled, pushing his sunglasses into place with his finger, “you're not Rika.” Then, more quietly to himself, “Or if you are, my eyes are worse than I thought.”