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vinidivoo · 6 months ago

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Ballad of Breezes, Winds, and Gales.

a hyuni.n one shot

Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of grief, loss, and intense emotions that may be sensitive for some readers.

I don’t know when the sky started feeling so heavy. Maybe it was one of those nights when the wind sliced through the silence, and I’d sit there staring at nothing, trying to figure out what was still holding me here. Emptiness has a song, you know? A low hum, almost too faint to catch, that swells into an aching scream no one hears. I’ve been feeling it all the time lately, ever since he stopped being around.

Jeongin always had this way of making everything feel bigger. Louder, deeper, more impossible. He’d walk into a room, and the air would shift, like the whole world had to stretch to fit him in. I never said it out loud, of course. I’m not the type to spill what I feel, not in a way that matters. But he knew. I think he always did.

This morning, I woke up with a tightness in my chest, like someone forgot to tell me I was supposed to keep going. The coffee on the table was already cold, and I didn’t bother warming it up. What’s the point? Everything’s felt kind of meaningless lately. I caught myself thinking about him again, about the way he’d laugh sideways, like the world was a joke only he got. “Hyunjin,” he’d say, with that voice that seemed to pull me back from somewhere I didn’t even know I’d gone. I hated how my name sounded different on his lips, like he’d taken a piece of me without asking.

We used to wander around with no direction, climbing places no one else bothered with. Crooked rooftops, hills where the wind howled without mercy. He loved being up high, gazing down as if he could measure everything he was leaving behind. I’d tag along, even when my feet ached and the cold stung. It wasn’t about bravery or proving anything. It was just that being near him felt like the only thing that still made sense.

One day, we stayed at a café until it closed. The place was simple—worn wooden tables, a burnt-sugar smell lingering in the air like a memory nobody minded. He tapped his fingers on an empty glass, the soft rhythm pacing out his words. “Everything fades, Hyunjin,” he said, his voice quiet, almost swallowed by the hum of the coffee machine in the back. “Mountains turn to dust, rivers dry up, even the things we swear we’ll hold onto forever—it’s all just sand slipping through your fingers.” I couldn’t tell if he was talking about the world or himself. I just watched him, the way his brown eyes glinted under the dim light, holding a secret I’d never reach. I wanted to say something, but what could I say? He already knew I was there, carrying the weight of his words like they were mine, just to lighten whatever he was feeling.

Another night, we ended up in a field outside the city. The sky was clear, stars blinking so bright it almost hurt to look. He threw himself onto the grass, arms spread wide like he wanted to hug the earth, and I lay down beside him, breathing in the damp soil scent rising up. “Ever notice how far away they seem?” he asked, pointing at the sky. “So beautiful, but so cold. Sometimes I think we’re like that too.” I turned to him, tracing the outline of his nose against the moonlight, and mumbled, “But we’re here, aren’t we?” He let out a short, dry laugh and said, “For now.” Back then, I didn’t get what he meant. Now, I get it too well.

There was this one time we almost got lost. It was a gray afternoon, the kind that makes the world feel too small to hold itself. He wanted to climb a hill I’d never seen before, taller than the others, with the wind screaming so loud it felt like it might tear us away. I followed, of course, even with my heart in my throat, feeling the loose stones slip under my feet. Up top, he stopped at the edge, hair whipping around in the chaos, and asked, “Ever wanted to run from it all?” His eyes locked on mine, like I was the only thing keeping him there. I swallowed hard, the chill creeping up my spine, and said, “Sometimes. But where to?” He gave me that crooked smile, the one that explained nothing, and turned to the horizon. “Anywhere but here,” he whispered, and I felt a shiver that wasn’t just from the wind.

The first time he kissed me was on a rainy day. We were under a bridge, the sound of water crashing down drowning out everything else. He grabbed my face with cold hands and pulled me close, like he’d decided it right then and there. My heart raced, his warmth cutting through the rain’s chill, and for a moment, the world stopped. Then he pulled back and stared at the river, like it hadn’t happened. “Sometimes I think we only exist in moments like this,” he murmured, and I tucked those words away in a locket, even if I never quite understood them. We stood there, the water’s roar wrapping around us, and I wanted to ask what he meant, but his silence kept me quiet.

But now he’s not here anymore, and I keep wondering what’s left of me. It’s like I got lost somewhere along the way, and I don’t know how to find my way back. I try to remember how it felt before, when the world was light and I could laugh without trying. I try to feel that gentle fire that used to flicker inside me when he was around, that warmth that made me wake up wanting to live. But all I find is an emptiness that won’t explain itself, a longing for something I can’t even name. I want to run, escape to some place where no one can find me, but my feet don’t know where to go. I keep walking in circles, lost on a map I drew all wrong.

Sometimes I climb up to the rooftop alone, just to feel the wind he loved so much. I close my eyes and try to picture him here, sitting on the edge like always, with that look that saw past everything. The wind blows cold, cutting through my skin, and I can almost hear his voice, soft, saying my name like it’s a secret. But when I open my eyes, it’s just the void, and I wonder if it’s worth it to keep climbing, to keep searching for him in places he’ll never be. Do I give up? Or do I keep wandering these twisted paths, even knowing they lead nowhere?

One night, I almost gave up on everything. I was in some random bar, the kind of place he’d hate—dim lights, the stale smell of old cigarettes clinging to the air. There was a girl across the counter, laughing loud, and for a split second, I thought it could be him—the same way of tossing her head back, the same sound filling the room. My heart jumped, but when she turned, it was just a stranger, with eyes that didn’t know mine. I bolted out of there, the icy air hitting my face, and felt stupid for still hoping. It wasn’t him. It never will be.

The other day, I found one of his shirts buried at the bottom of the closet, like it’d hidden there to catch me off guard. It was black, faded, with a small tear in the sleeve he never bothered to fix. I held it to my chest, catching the faint scent still clinging to it, and for a moment, it was like he’d come back. “Are you still here?” I asked the empty room, my voice cracking in the stillness. But the silence didn’t answer, and I let the shirt slip to the floor, a weight I didn’t know how to hold.

Then I decided to go where he is now. It wasn’t easy. The walk to the cemetery felt longer than it should’ve, each step echoing on the wet pavement like it wanted me to turn back. The silence there was different—thicker, more real. His name was carved into the stone, plain, with nothing to say who he’d been. I brought a necklace he used to wear sometimes, a thin cord with a pendant he never told me the story of. I set it down on the cold earth and sat there, the ground chilling my legs.

“I wish you’d stayed,” I said, my voice shaking a little. “Not for me, but for you. You deserved more than this.” The wind blew soft, rustling the dry leaves around, and for a second, I almost felt him there, like a tiny piece of him had lingered to listen. “I don’t know what to do now, Jeongin. I don’t know who I am without you. You took a part of me I can’t figure out how to get back.” I closed my eyes, letting the words spill out like a river I couldn’t hold anymore. “I keep trying to run, you know? To some place where it doesn’t hurt this much, but I always end up back here.”

I stayed until the sun started to rise, painting the sky in an orange he would’ve liked. The necklace caught the light, glinting faintly, and for the first time in a long while, I felt something beyond the emptiness. It wasn’t peace, not yet, but it was a start. I stood up, rubbed my eyes, and looked back one last time. “I’ll try to live for you,” I whispered, and this time, the words felt right, like he might’ve heard them and nodded in that quiet way of his.

I left with lighter steps, even though the weight was still in my chest. I don’t know where I’m going, or if I’ll ever find myself again. The wind picked up as I walked, messing up my hair, and for a moment, I swear I heard him laugh—that crooked laugh only he had. Maybe he never really left. Maybe he lives in me, in some quiet corner I haven’t learned to reach yet. And maybe, for now, that’s enough.

#hyunin #stray kids #jeongin #hyunjin #oneshot #angst #skz angst #fanfic #skz fanfic #hyunin fanfic

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vinidivoo · 11 months ago

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