Chanel's Fics

There Will Come Soft Rains - Hunhan

THERE WILL COME SOFT RAINS

They first notice the crack in the wallpaper. It stretches along the length of the living room wall, peeling back and curling in on itself like a weary saint. Behind the painted green vines and pink carnations, the ugly gray gash of plaster and cement stares angrily at the room's occupants. Accusing, accusing.

Lu Han purses his lips. Fingers skim lightly on the yellowed paper, and it crumbles under his touch. "That's odd," he mumbles. "I just had this replaced last year."

Sehun looks up from his coffee and rolls his shoulders into a lazy shrug. "Maybe you got duped?" he offers quietly, disinterest apparent in his voice. Wallpaper is wallpaper. Replaceable, expendable. He would care more, perhaps, if his cat had died.

"I guess." The frown on Lu Han's face forms creases between his brows, and there is a lick of disappointment marring the corners of his lips. He settles down across from Sehun and picks up his book, eyes flitting now and then to the unwelcome sight on his wall.

✖

Sehun receives a phonecall a week later.

“It’s gotten wider,” Lu Han’s voice crackles through the earpiece. “The crack, I mean.”

He sighs and looks at his watch. The hands say two-thirty; he doesn’t have class until four. “Do you want me to come over and fix it for you?”

“No, no, no, no.” Lu Han sounds anxious, and Sehun doesn’t quite understand.

“So, why—”

It comes in hushed tones, urgent and sharp, and the way Lu Han speaks makes him halt in his steps. “You’ve noticed it too, haven’t you? Something’s not right, Sehun. Something’s not right. The world, it’s—”

A gust of wind blows heavily through Seoul. The trees rustle and whisper into the air. With his phone pressed tight against his ear, Sehun can hear nothing but the sound of white noise, wavering uncertainly, stretching thin between Sehun’s here and Lu Han’s there.

From above, a leaf floats down, flitting about almost indecisively as it descends.

When Sehun catches it, it breaks apart in his palm, leaving nothing but darkened ash.

Dust to dust.

✖

The world doesn’t end abruptly as Sehun had once thought it would. No, dying too quickly after living for billions of years wouldn’t do. The earth doesn’t die like that, doesn’t go out a bang.

Instead, she falls apart.

They sit by the television one night and watch reports of people disappearing and buildings collapsing, of everything crumbling into dust and rubble. The picture on the screen is hazy, a thin layer of dirt already coating the glass, and Lu Han sits up to turn it off when the commercial break comes on.

Sehun doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Lu Han’s hand covers his own.

“I’ll make tea,” Lu Han says.

He accepts with a nod, grateful for something to hold on to.

Lu Han always brewed his tea strong, lets the flowers and leaves sit in the water for too long, but this time around, Sehun doesn’t complain. There is a bitter taste of ash from the air sitting in the back of his throat, and maybe the tea will burn it away.

“Here.” Lu Han pushes a mug, baby blue porcelain chipped and cracking, into Sehun’s hands. His lips stretch into a closed smile as he sits back down on the couch, springs creaking under his weight.