remember me [kiho, kihyun x wonho]

-11-

As the canine hybrid across from Hoseok's cell tells him about the way he knows of that Hoseok can see Kihyun again, describes in detail the process and what will result (or what should result, in theory), Hoseok immediately begins to think that this puppy can't be trusted after all. Not because of any malicious intentions, no, but because he's obviously insane, because what he's telling Hoseok is surely impossible.

"I swear I'm not lying to you, and I'm not crazy," the canine hybrid says, as if reading Hoseok's mind yet again, and Hoseok has to admit that even if this puppy is insane, Hoseok is certainly impressed by his ability to read others.

"But it's extremely difficult," the canine hybrid goes on. "I've never actually seen it done myself, though I've witnessed many attempts of it back at my village. It's a process that comes from ancient knowledge, from when hybrids first evolved from humans, a way to communicate with separated loved ones through the bond of a mated pair."

Hoseok gives the canine hybrid a sad smile. "If it's so difficult," Hoseok asks, "why would I be the one who's able to do it?"

The truth is, whatever little spark of hope that Hoseok had been feeling just now is completely defeated. Hoseok doesn't think that he's anything special, after all, and from what he's hearing, it just sounds like another dead end to him, another long shot certain to end in failure.

"It takes an exceptionally strong bond," the canine hybrid says. "It takes a true, loving bond between mates for it to work, a bond that's extraordinarily powerful, a bond that's pure and absolute."

He gives Hoseok a gentle look, then, and looks down at the floor for a moment. "Only mates can do it for each other," he says, "and it goes both ways, but because your mate doesn't remember you, he won't be able to do it, at least, not unless his memory returns. It takes full effort and intent, a strong desire to achieve it, so it will have to be you."

The canine hybrid then lets out a sigh before looking up again, and right into Hoseok's eyes. "If you want it badly enough," he says, "you should be able to tap into your connection with him. And I think you do want it badly enough. I think it's the only thing that you want, am I right?"

"No matter how badly that I may want it," Hoseok replies bitterly, "I won't be able to do it." Hoseok closes his eyes as they grow wet with tears once more, tears of frustration and exasperation and heartache, the heavy blow of grasping onto a wisp of hope only for it to vanish through his fingers.

"Kihyun has cut our connection," Hoseok goes on. "There's nothing there for me to tap into anymore."

At that, the canine hybrid chuckles softly, and Hoseok opens his eyes, taken aback. "You really think that suppressants could ever truly cut the connection?" the canine hybrid asks, incredulous. "You really think that humanity could ever do anything to truly stop a force of nature?"

The canine hybrid chuckles again. "All that the suppressants can do is block your mate from feeling your connection and its effects, the same way that the suppressants that you take here in the compound stop you from feeling the effects of your rut or stop an omega from feeling the effects of his heat. The suppressants just dull the symptoms; they don't erase the underlying cause."

The canine hybrid pauses again, and Hoseok looks at him with furrowed brows, wanting so much to believe what he's saying, but unsure, still so unsure if it's worth it to get his hopes up now, after everything that's happened, after all of the disappointment, after all of the mistakes, after all of the regrets.

"Like I said, none of us can stop nature," the canine hybrid says. "The connection between you and your mate...it's still there, and it's as strong as ever."