WHO ARE YOU?|ATEEZ FANFIC (In Editing Progress)

Chapter 25|Me, myself and I|Aurora

Yeosang looked back uncertainly as he and Jongho walked down the side street, away from Yunho and Seonghwa, who were just saying goodbye at the intersection. The mint-haired boy didn’t like that at all. Knowing that Seonghwa was out there alone with his bad leg worried him, just as he dreaded the thought of leaving Jongho alone with his injury. The youngest limped along beside him, trying not to let his pain and discomfort show, but Yeosang saw how he really felt. He was suffering. The way he wrinkled his nose gave him away. When Jongho noticed Yeosang looking back at Seonghwa and Yunho, he hesitated for a moment and stopped, which made Yeosang pause. He looked at the younger one, who was looking at the two older ones at the intersection, who were just saying goodbye to each other. A slight smile appeared on Jongho’s face.

“Seonghwa is going to shit himself out of fear.” He said with an amused undertone in his voice and Yeosang grinned, shook his head and then hooked his arm into Jongho’s.

“Come on. We have to keep going.” He said and pulled Jongho along with him. They continued walking together, getting further and further away from Yunho and Seonghwa. The side street they were walking along was longer than Yeosang had thought. They walked in silence for almost ten minutes, which was partly thanks to Jongho’s slow pace, which Yeosang adapted to. He didn’t want Jongho’s leg to get worse because they were rushing and since it was only after noon, maybe one or two o’clock, Yeosang said that they weren’t short of time. He estimated that his task would take him less than an hour. He didn’t know what Jongho had to do, but as confident as he had been earlier, it wouldn’t be something that would take Jongho very long. When they finally stepped from the small side street onto a huge college campus, the two stopped and looked around. It was a huge property, with a soccer field on their left, a sports hall directly behind it, and three faculty buildings that occupied the rest of the property. The campus looked really beautiful at first glance. Sand-colored stone slabs formed the path from the street to the buildings, and between the paths were green meadows with a few trees and bushes sticking out of the ground here and there. In the center of them stood a fountain decorated with pretty doves made of white marble. Yeosang was amazed, while Jongho didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about all of this.

“I think I’d like to study here.” Yeosang murmured as he and Jongho entered the campus with careful steps. Jongho looked at Yeosang and hesitated. There was something uncertain in Yeosang’s eyes and his grip on Jongho’s arm tightened with every step they took towards the buildings.

“Where do you have to go?” He asked the mint-haired man, who hesitated for a moment and looked around. The three faculty buildings were all labeled with something different. On the first one, which was closest, it said ‘Sports Faculty’ in large letters. That seemed logical to Yeosang. The building was close to the gym and the sports field that went with it. The second building seemed to be the art faculty and the last one, which was furthest away from the two boys behind the art building, was the music faculty. He had to go there. Yeosang nervously raised his arm and pointed with his finger at the building far away.

“Back there.” He said and Jongho nodded as Yeosang nervously bit the inside of his lip and turned towards the gym.

“You have to go there, right?” He asked and Jongho nodded in agreement.

“Yep. I’m telling you my job suits me.” He grinned at the older man, who nodded only slightly uncertainly.

“I’d much rather be there. Sports are more my thing than music.” He scratched the back of his head, slightly embarrassed, and looked at Jongho, obviously trying to hide his nervousness, but he was completely unsuccessful. Jongho could read Yeosang like an open book.

“Shall we swap? You can sing so well, can’t you?” Jongho grinned, amused by Yeosang’s obvious fear and freed his arm from Yeosang’s tight grip.

“You’re scared.” He said. Horrified, his cheeks turning red with shame, Yeosang looked at the younger boy and shook his head.

“I didn’t!” he scolded, which only confirmed Jongho’s suspicions even more.

“And you’re so scared. You’re wasting time with small talk instead of getting on with your task.” The blush on Yeosang’s cheeks rose to his ears and he grimly looked away.

“Not true!” Jongho had to smile. Yeosang was cute when he tried not to let his fear show.

“It’s okay, Hyung. We all get scared sometimes.” He patted Yeosang encouragingly on the shoulder, which only made him more upset. He clenched his hands into fists and took a step back, grumbling.

“I’m not scared!” He said loudly and walked with determined steps further away from Jongho, who just looked after him amused.

“See? I’m going!” Jongho nodded with a grin and watched Yeosang for a moment as he walked ahead with feigned courage, further and further away from Jongho. He walked past the fountain and looked slightly nervously up at the stone pigeons, which now that he was closer to them were making him a little nervous. He stopped hesitantly and looked back. Jongho was still standing where he was and looked over at Yeosang, well, with a slightly worried expression on his face. Yeosang took a deep breath.

“We’ll meet back here later, right?!” He called to the younger one, who immediately had to smile and nodded.

“I’ll pick you up if I’m finished before you!” He answered and Yeosang suppressed a beaming smile. Jongho shouldn’t see how happy Yeosang was that Jongho said that. It calmed him down immensely to know that Jongho would be there.

“And I’ll be happy if I finish before you!” he called back and Jongho just laughed.

“You don’t believe that yourself, do you!” he laughed.

“Shall we bet?!” Jongho nodded, grinning, accepting the bet and then took a step back.

“Take care of yourself!” he called to Yeosang before turning away and limping towards the gym. Yeosang looked after him briefly and felt the nervousness in him quickly return.

“You too…” he mumbled before turning away and nervously walking towards the music faculty. As he walked towards the building, he looked back a few more times to see Jongho, until he could no longer see him and an uncomfortable feeling spread through him. He didn’t like leaving Jongho alone at all. Normally he wouldn’t worry. Jongho was a tough, strong guy, with muscles that were overshadowed by his cuddly teddy bear face and therefore didn’t stand out that much. Without his injury, nothing would be able to hurt Jongho so much. But he was injured and so it would be difficult for Jongho to escape in an emergency. And Yeosang was so far away that he couldn’t help him if necessary. He wouldn’t even notice if something happened to Jongho. As he stood in front of the faculty building, he suddenly felt very uneasy. He stared at the building and the slightly open entrance door. He wouldn’t notice Jongho’s emergency situation… And vice versa… He gulped and hesitated. The building had looked nice from a distance, but now that he was standing right in front of it, he was afraid. With nervous steps he carefully walked towards the entrance. The open door offered him a glimpse into the inner darkness of the building. There was no light on. Goosebumps spread across Yeosang’s arms as he cautiously took a step inside and looked around tensely. He found himself in the entrance hall. A large hall in the middle of which was a large staircase. Banners were attached to the railing of the upper floor, with writing written on them, but Yeosang couldn’t read them because of the dirt on the banners. Crumpled and torn sheets of music lay scattered on the floor and everything was dusty, as if no one had been in this building for years. Yeosang shivered and wrapped his arms tightly around his upper body to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

“Don’t worry, Yeosang. You’re alone in here…” He muttered quietly to himself. His quiet whisper echoed through the hall and played into the spooky atmosphere, which made Yeosang even more afraid. He took a deep breath and took his letter out of his pocket, unfolded it and read it again.

“Go to the second floor of the music department of the university on the outskirts of the city and follow the instructions in the orchestra room.” He read quietly and then looked nervously at the stairs. A cold wind blew towards him from that direction and sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine. Was he supposed to go up there? A quiet whimper escaped his throat as he walked slowly towards the stairs. He hesitantly climbed the stairs, looking around uncertainly, until he finally reached the second floor of the building, where a long corridor led to the west and east wings of the building. Yeosang stopped right in front of the stairs and looked around.

“Which way…?” He mumbled. There had been no detailed directions on his letter. He only knew that he had to go to the second floor, but he didn’t know which way he had to go. He turned left from the stairs and spotted a white sign hanging from the ceiling in the corridor with black writing on it that he could hardly decipher. Frowning, he went closer to read the writing.

“To the workshop.” It was written on the sign. That couldn’t be right.  His letter had said he should go to the orchestra room. If the workshop was over there, where Yeosang assumed the music students would learn to make musical instruments, then that would definitely not be the orchestra hall. He quickly turned to the corridor on the right side of the stairs, where there was also a sign hanging from the ceiling. Also in black letters it said ‘To the orchestra hall, choir room and dance studio’. That had to be it! Nervous, but with quick steps, Yeosang set off. He walked away from the stairs and entered the east wing of the building and began to look around for the room he was looking for. When he had almost reached the end of the corridor, he saw a wide double door made of gold-lacquered oak, into which violins, harps and flutes were carved. Yeosang stopped in front of the door. There was no sign on the door, but Yeosang was very sure that this was the place he was looking for. The orchestra hall. He looked at the door hesitantly. A trace of fear ran through his body and he shuddered slightly, but then he shook his head and pulled himself together. With his eyes closed and his fists clenched, he lowered his head and took a deep breath.

“You can do this. Go in, do your job, and then leave and Jongho will pick you up.” He spoke encouragingly and encouragingly to himself, then took another deep breath, sighed and looked up again. With the thought in the back of his mind that he would get out of here quickly and that Jongho would soon be with him again, he immediately felt much safer. He stepped forward, reached out his hand to the handles of the double doors, pushed them down, and pushed. A soft squeaking sound came from the hinges of the doors as he pushed the heavy oak doors open. Bright light from the afternoon sun, low in the sky and announcing its imminent setting, shone through the windows and blinded Yeosang. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he entered the large room. His footsteps were clearly audible on the smooth laminate flooring and echoed off the walls of the almost empty room. He looked around searchingly. There had to be a message for him somewhere telling him what his actual task was. He moved away from the door of the room, which he left open, and looked around. It was really a big room. On the left side of the door there were huge bookshelves on the walls, filled with books full of song lyrics, sheet music and biographies of long-dead musicians. In front of the shelves, to the left and right, there were two large bird cages from which Yeosang heard a quiet cooing. Frowning, he approached the cage that stood next to the large window. Beautiful white wedding doves sat in the cage, at least a dozen of them. They sat on the ground, on branches and flapped their wings excitedly when they noticed the mint-haired boy in the room approaching them. Smiling, he crouched down in front of the cage and tilted his head slightly to the side while he watched the birds.

“Pretty birds.” He murmured. He stuck his finger through the black bars and a pigeon that was standing very close to him curiously turned its head towards Yeosang. Cooing and nodding her head in a funny way, she came towards Yeosang and looked at his finger expectantly. The bird gently pecked at his fingernail once before taking another step closer and nestling its head against Yeosang’s finger. Yeosang smiled and gently stroked the pigeon’s tiny head.

“You are cute.” He said before finally pulling his hand away and standing up. Sighing, Yeosang turned away from the bird cage and gazed across the big room to the other side, where a bunch of chairs stood in three rows facing away from Yeosang towards a platform about thirty centimeters high on which stood a music stand.

“Hmm.” Curious, Yeosang approached the chairs, walked through the gaps between them and then stepped onto the podium. As he walked around the music stand, he looked at an open sheet of music, at a song called ‘Aurora’. Yeosang walked a little closer when he noticed a small piece of paper taped to the top edge of the music stand. His name was written on the piece of paper in the same handwriting as on his letter. Yeosang hesitated. These must be the further instructions mentioned in his letter. Nervously, he reached out and pulled the note off the music stand. It was folded, so Yeosang unfolded it and then looked at the writing.

“Play the song ‘Aurora’ on the violin?” Question marks were buzzing wildly through Yeosang’s head. He should do something, please? Frowning, he read the note several times over, as if he couldn’t understand the written words on it.

“What makes them think I can do that?” he muttered in frustration and looked around.

“And where can I get a violin anyway-“ Just as he was about to continue complaining about having to find a violin, his eyes fell on a shiny brown object lying on one of the chairs in front of the podium. The brown varnish shone in the light of the sun golden like honey.

“Oh.” It escaped Yeosang’s lips.

“There’s one, hehet~” Slightly embarrassed, he climbed down from the podium and walked over to the chair on which the violin was lying. Of course there would be one lying around here, this was the orchestra hall after all.

Dummy.

Yeosang thought to himself and reached his hand out for the violin, picked it up and looked at it a little hesitantly. Now he had a violin to play, but he still didn’t know how to play. He went back up to the podium, took a chair with him and placed it in front of the music stand. He sat down with a sigh and looked at the notes in the music book.

“Hmm.” He hummed quietly and leaned forward. It didn’t seem particularly complicated. At least it looked that way to Yeosang, since there weren’t that many notes on the sheet, but the complicated part wasn’t reading it, but playing it. How was he supposed to know where the notes were on the violin? He didn’t even know how to hold a violin. Or so he thought. He looked at the violin thoughtfully. He held it in his left hand by the neck of the instrument, with the strings turned towards him. He held the bow in his right hand.

“Now, how do I…” He murmured and lifted the violin. He knew roughly that the instrument had to rest on his shoulder, so he did so. Carefully, be placed the violin so that the violins body rested on his shoulder comfortably and then he naturally leaned his jawline against the kidney-shaped plate that was attached to the lower edge of the violin and perfectly bedded his face. Surprised that what he was doing felt so right, he pursed his lips and raised the bow in his hand. The horsehair stretched from one end of the bow to the other was shiny and appeared to have been freshly waxed, giving the bow the grip it needed on the strings to produce a sound. Yeosang hesitantly placed the horsehair bow on the strings and paused. This felt weird. Not the kind of weird, as if he was doing something wrong, but the exact opposite. It felt good. After taking a deep breath to concentrate, he carefully began to glide the bow over the strings. A high, slightly wobbly note sounded, and Yeosang grimaced in tension.

“That sounds off-key.” He mumbled, but didn’t put the bow down and instead kept trying. The bow glided over the strings, back and forth, sometimes over the thin high strings and sometimes over the thick low ones. It took a moment until he got a decent note out of the instrument. He applied a little less pressure to the strings, so the bow glided only lightly over them, and suddenly the choppy, off-key sound stopped, and a beautiful, long note emerged from the violin. Yeosang raised the bow enthusiastically and looked at it proudly.

“There you go!” he said, proud of this small success, grinning broadly. Then his gaze fell on the music book, and his excitement faded again. He lowered the bow and sighed in frustration.

“How am I supposed to manage this…” Frustrated, he placed the bow and violin on his lap and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He’d never be able to do this. He could barely get such a beautiful tone out of the violin, so how was he supposed to play a whole melody?

“What bullshit,” he grumbled. His task had been doomed from the start. The Halateez must have known he couldn’t play the violin and just wanted to see him fail. Sadistic assholes. Were the others struggling as well? Surely their tasks were similarly difficult. Yeosang sighed and looked at the instrument in his lap. It was impossible. But he didn’t want to give up either. He leaned forward and read the music in the music book. He could read it, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he didn’t know where to find the notes on the violin. He sighed, picked up the music book, and turned the page, when suddenly another piece of paper fell out of the book, directly onto the violin in Yeosang’s lap. Astonished, Yeosang looked at the paper and placed the book back on the music stand.

“What is that?” he asked, picking up the piece of paper. He unfolded it with a questioning expression and was taken aback when he saw the picture on the piece of paper. It showed the neck of the violin, where the notes had to be held, and some places were marked with red letters. Yeosang paused. Those were the notes he needed for the song. He quickly placed the piece of paper on the music stand so that he could still read the music in the music book, then repositioned the violin and picked up the bow.

“Okay,” he said quietly, looking down at his hand holding the violin neck, then at the piece of paper and the music book.

“The first note should be… Approximately…” He moved his hand a little further toward the center of the violin neck and placed his finger where it was shown on the piece of paper.

“…here.” With his finger on the string, he took a deep breath and picked up the bow again.

“Then let’s try it.” His gaze shifting between the music book and the violin neck, he practiced the positions of the individual notes for a while. He was lucky that he had a good memory and was able to memorize the positions he needed to hold, and after an hour of continuous practice, he finally tried the song. He picked up the first note in the music book again and placed the bow on the strings.

“You can do it, Yeosang,” he murmured, trying to encourage himself.  He simply hoped that it didn’t have to sound perfect and that a choppy, slightly off-key version of the song would be enough for him to pass his task. Yeosang took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then began. He let the bow glide gently over the strings, and a first, relatively good-sounding note rang out. Concentrated, he worked his way through the song, taking his time and trying to finger the notes as accurately as possible. By the time he had somewhat gotten into the swing of things, the sun was already setting on the horizon. Yeosang didn’t even want to know how long he had been sitting there practicing. It had definitely been several hours. The others had surely already finished their tasks and were waiting for him. Was Jongho already at the fountain? Or had he perhaps already left? Yeosang shook his head and put the violin back on his lap for a moment. Jongho certainly wasn’t going to just leav”.  Although he always acted cool and didn’t care, Yeosang was sure that Jongho actually had a soft side and was perhaps even worried about Yeosang for taking so long. When Yeosang lowered his gaze to his lap, where his hands rested on the violin, his gaze fell on the fingertips of his left hand and the palm of his right. Deep red bruises formed on Yeosang’s fingertips, and his right palm was covered in blisters.

“Ouch…” he mumbled, grimacing. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been straining his hands. While he’d been holding the strings, he hadn’t felt any pain, but now that his fingers were no longer pressing down on the thin strings, his fingertips puckered painfully. Biting the inside of his lip, he picked up the violin again.

“I have to finish here,” he said, getting back into position and fixing his gaze on the music. He plucked the strings for the first note, which now hurt considerably more, but ignored the pain and began to play. Flowing tones filled the orchestra hall, and once he was truly in the flow, Yeosang no longer felt the pain. He had internalized the notes he needed, memorized them painfully. He no longer needed them; he closed his eyes and simply surrendered to the music. The song he was playing sounded joyful. Calm, but joyful. It awakened a warm feeling in Yeosang that spread throughout his entire body and made him completely forget the pain his fingers were going through. As he played, he fell into a kind of trance. He forgot everything around him, completely ignored his surroundings. What he played, of course, didn’t sound perfect. Yeosang wasn’t a professional and had only practiced for a few hours, fortunate enough to have a good memory.  Some of the notes he played sounded a bit off, others were barely audible, and still others sounded really good, only for the next one to sound terrible again. But overall, Yeosang was very satisfied with what he was playing, and when he played the last note, he breathed a sigh of relief. The song was over. Completely exhausted, Yeosang placed the violin on his lap and leaned back in his chair. He tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling.

“I did it…” he murmured with relief. That would have to be enough for now, because he definitely wouldn’t do it again. The sudden sound of clapping hands made Yeosang jump in shock. He straightened his head, stood up in a flash, the violin and bow falling from his lap, and stared in shock in the direction the clapping came from. Yeosang froze. He looked into cold brown eyes that stared at him emotionlessly. The owner of those brown eyes was standing next to the birdcage, clapping. When he stopped, he shook his hands and didn’t move. Yeosang didn’t know what to do. He stood frozen, staring at the man dressed in black.

When did he come in?

Yeosang thought, clenching his hands into fists. It must have been while Yeosang was playing.  The loud violin music must have drowned out the Halateez’s footsteps, and since Yeosang had left the door open earlier, the Halateez was able to walk in without making a sound and attracting Yeosang’s attention. Terrified, Yeosang took a deep breath and covered his obvious fear with feigned courage.

“W-what do you want?!” he asked the Halateez. His voice betrayed his true fear. It sounded shaky and as if Yeosang was about to start crying at any moment, which was definitely true. Yeosang felt like crying. He was alone. Alone, he faced his greatest enemy, whom he had no hope of defeating on his own. It was, after all, an android, about the size of Mingi, and didn’t seem like it would be easily defeated by Yeosang if it came to a fight. Yeosang wasn’t a good fighter.  Mingi, San, and Jongho, too, if they weren’t injured, would probably have no problem defeating the Halateez, but Yeosang would be at his mercy. After his pathetic attempt at bravery, the Halateez remained silent and simply stared coldly at Yeosang. Yeosang swallowed nervously.

“Now tell me—“ he was about to demand of the Halateez, when it suddenly turned toward the birdcage and tilted its head to the side. Confused, Yeosang watched him reach for the latch that locked the cage door. He slid the latch and opened the door just a crack before turning away from the cage and briskly striding toward the door. Yeosang frowned and took a step forward.

“Hey!” he called to the man dressed in black, who, however, ignored Yeosang, grabbed the door, and pulled it shut as he quickly walked out.

“Hey, wait‼” Yeosang quickly ran to the door and grabbed the doorknob, pushed it, and pulled on the door, but it didn’t budge.

“Shit!” the mint-haired boy cursed and tried again. But nothing happened. The door was locked.

“Damn it!”  Yeosang turned around and looked around the orchestra room carefully. There had to be another exit. As Yeosang was about to return to the podium, he heard the soft creaking of the birdcage door slowly opening. One of the pigeons padded through the gap, flapping its wings excitedly. Yeosang hesitated for a moment. He looked at the pigeon, which was slowly walking towards him. Cooing and fluttering, it hopped across the floor, the other pigeons slowly following behind it. As they came closer, Yeosang took a step back. Something about this situation made him uneasy.

“Good bird…” He muttered, taking another step back, the pigeons following him. Slowly becoming nervous, Yeosang swallowed and turned to run to the podium when the pigeons suddenly rose from the ground and rushed toward the mint-haired boy.

“ARGH!” Yeosang screamed in horror as one of the birds flew at the back of his head, gripping his hair with its sharp claws and beginning to peck at him with its pointed beak.

“OW!” Yeosang shook himself to get rid of the bird and continued running toward the podium. The other birds attacked him as well. Sharp claws scratched his arms, and a pigeon charged toward Yeosang’s face from the left, beak first, and scratched his cheek. Panicking, Yeosang ran up the step onto the podium and picked up the violin from the ground, then turned around and swung.

“GET OFF!” he shouted at the pigeons.

A pigeon that had briefly distanced itself came back at him. Yeosang gripped the violin firmly by the neck and swung it back. Just before the pigeon could attack him, Yeosang swung the expensive musical instrument through the air and hit the pigeon with full force. A shrill sound rang out as the pigeon was hit by the violin like a baseball bat. The white animal shot across the room, crashed into the wall next to the entrance door, squealed, and fell motionless to the floor, where it remained motionless. This was not a success, however. The other pigeons were not deterred by Yeosang’s attack. They continued to follow him around like an angry swarm of bees, scratching and pecking at his skin, leaving him hardly any chance to move. Desperately, Yeosang looked behind him at the wall in front of which hung a long white banner.  Yeosang watched closely, trying to keep the birds at bay, when he saw something brown and wooden peeking out from behind the curtain and felt a spark of hope.

A door!

Without much hesitation, Yeosang ran. The pigeons fluttered furiously after him, trying to catch him with their claws. Reaching the curtain, Yeosang grabbed the white fabric and nimbly pulled it aside. The door was closed, and Yeosang swallowed nervously.

“Be open…” he breathed desperately. Near tears, he grabbed the doorknob and pushed it down. A soft click sounded, and the mint-haired boy felt a weight lift from his heart as he was able to open the door.

“Yes!” He exclaimed in excitement as he once again felt the pigeons’ claws and sharp beaks against his skin.

“AH!” he cried.  Angrily, he shook himself vigorously, flailing his arms, scaring the pigeons away, if only for a tiny moment before they flew back toward him. Yeosang seized that tiny moment, opened the door, and scurried lightning-fast through the narrow crack into the dim light of the back room. As he closed the door behind him, all he heard was the sound of the pigeons crashing against the wood, cooing, and scratching. Breathing heavily, the boy sank to the floor next to the door. He sat down, took a deep breath, and felt the adrenaline slowly leave his body and the pain of his wounds set in. Hissing, he looked at his arms and legs. He was covered in scratches, some superficial that would disappear within a few days, others deeper that bled and burned like hell.

“Fuck…” Tears welled up in his eyes, and he sobbed quietly.

“Fucking birds,” he cursed, wiping away his tears and then leaning against the wall. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down after all the excitement and think of a plan to get out of there, when he suddenly heard a loud bang.

“Wh-“ Yeosang jumped, startled, and stood up. To his left, above a stack of crates, was a small window, which he headed toward. He climbed onto the crates, held onto the windowsill, and glanced outside. His eyes widened in shock.

“Fire!?”