LOSE MY BREATH

LMB 39

39: Kairos.

There were many people who wanted to say goodbye to him the last day there. 

Back in Yangling, Jisung had said his goodbyes to Yongbok without telling him – he hated goodbyes, and he especially hated it when Yongbok cried.

So he had kissed his Jeongin on the cheek, and he had taken Yongbok’s gruff with a laugh, and then he’d left with his heart so heavy.

Many people in the Lee sect had grown fond of him much in the same way one grows fond of a really loud exchange student that doesn’t really understand what’s going on most of the time but is super excited over it all the same, and the whole class would miss them when silence engulfs.

At first, he’d been someone strange and noisy and troublesome, but after a year, he had also, sort of, become their strange and noisy and troublesome someone. 

He’d always been the only one accidentally talking during banquets. He’d been the one running through the courtyard. He’d been the one shamelessly clinging onto their Master Minho.

And he’d been talking to a lot of the people there, no matter how much they didn’t want to talk back to him. Well, the kids liked him openly, at least.

Most of them bowed to him, looking wide-eyed and sorrowful and kind of like they wanted to ask him why he was going but the section rules forbade it. The adults were more put-together, nodding at him like to a peer, some of them even smiling slightly.

Minho forced him to visit Old Man and Chan personally, even though he was pretty sure he was in neither one’s good graces currently.

Chan hadn’t really forgiven him for the fight with his baby brother, and Jinyoung was probably still mad about the snowball incident. And also the tea incident. And also the wall incident.

There were many incidents.

“This one thanks the Lee sect for hosting him for a year,” he said, bowing deeply, using the formal language for once.

Chan nodded gracefully, and the look on Old Man Jinyoung’s face was not quite serene but at least it wasn’t a full-on glare.

“I left a list of things to improve upon with Minho as a thank-you,” he continued, and Jinyoung’s right eye twitched.

“Jisung is being too generous,” Chan said with a calm tone and earned himself a look from Minho that Jisung could not decipher.

“Not at all,” Jisung replied despite this. “It was mainly about the food.”

“Our clan’s food palate is simple and pure,” Old Man said with narrowed eyes. “It discourages indulgence.”

“Right, in any case, thanks for the housing. This sure has been an experience.”

“Indeed. You will be leaving after daybreak?” Chan asked.

Jisung nodded. “Yeah. Just going to walk down the mountain, I guess.”

Next to him, Minho was staring off again, his expression locked-off and distant. There was a part of Jisung that knew Minho must care for him, but that part of him was also desperately hopeful, so he could never linger on those thoughts.

Chan seemed to notice his baby brother’s expression, or lack thereof, and when he nodded at Jisung, there was something unfathomable in his look.

"I wish you happiness in your future endeavours."

“Same to you,” Jisung replied.

So that was done, then.

The day passed quicker than any other Jisung had lived through before. Time flowed like a river, eluding his grasp no matter how desperately he tried to hold onto it.

Minho stayed next to him but felt so far away.

Jisung, for once in his life, did not know how to fill the empty air with chatter. He couldn’t find the words to untangle the chaos in his mind, to lay bare the jumble of emotions for inspection and judgement.

He didn’t know why this different reality felt more like home to him than the one he came from.

There was that one quote about happiness being with the people you love. He’d read that on some sort of motivational picture on a social media app. And while he had people he loved in both places, there was nothing hard about loving this world’s Yongbok or Jeongin. Nothing hard about loving Minho.

Because none of those people looked at him and felt pity, or disgust, or guilt, or anger. They only saw Jisung, without all the context that made his relationship messed up and difficult in the real world.

When Jisung looked at the profile of the distantly cold Minho, he thought that the world’s easiest thing was to love him. He wished it was the same the other way around. 

Then he stopped thinking about it.

The evening arrived in gentle hues of purple and pink, transitioning to lilac and blue. After hours of silent contemplation on the porch of theLee residence, the sky deepened into a dark navy.

The moon was out, full and beautiful.

“Will you accompany me there?” Jisung asked.

“Mn,” said Minho, voice deep.

It was only fair, then, that Minho led the way to the entrance of the residence, much like he had led Jisung the first day there. After all, Minho was someone worthy of following.

The path down the mountain looked hazardous at night, a meandering road that seemed to lead to another dimension. It was a terrifying thought, even without considering the dangers of the dark.

“Jisung,” said Minho next to him once they got there.

There was a look in those eyes that Jisung still could not quite comprehend, something so layered and intricate that it wasn’t covered in his year-long study of Minho. 

Minho’s face was impenetrably neutral, like a porcelain mask reflecting moonlight with its smooth surface. And the pale eyes stared.

“Minho,” Jisung said, and his voice sounded hoarse and cracked and weird. He cleared his throat, though how much good it did, he couldn’t be sure. “I guess this is it.”

“Yes,” Minho said. Opened his mouth. Closed it again. Jisung understood the feeling.

What could you say to your soulmate when you knew you would never see each other again? How could you express your gratitude for the happiness he had brought into your life over the past year? And how could you possibly avoid mentioning the devastation you would feel in his absence?

His foster father had often said that Jisung had a tendency for melodramatics. Maybe he was a little bit right. He couldn’t believe he was thinking of that man right now.

“Minho,” he said, after clearing his throat another time. “I really want to apologise for leaving, and thank you for all that you’ve done for me, but I don’t think you’d like to hear that.”

Minho’s lips were a thin line as he shook his head slowly. Of course he wouldn’t want to hear such words; Minho was good, too good to be true.

“There is no need for apologies or thanks between us,” the man said softly. It was a sentiment he had repeated often enough throughout the year that Jisung should have already internalised it.

His hand twitches by his hip, about to rise and grasp Minho’s wrist. In the end, he decided against it. It felt like plucking petals from a fragile flower, hesitant to disturb its delicate beauty.

It would die anyway. No need to think much.

Jisung smiled, giving Minho his last bright smile, the final he could muster. It wasn’t as wide as normally, but it was real.

“Goodbye… Minho,” Jisung said.

Minho nodded, the depth of his pupils bottomless. “Goodbye, Jisung.”

And with that, Jisung started walking down the path. He did not touch Minho, he did not call his name, and he did not look back.

He couldn’t look back.

--------

In the next chapter do play the music given. Also, I'm having the urge to leave you guys on cliff hanging for a week * evil laugh*.