By Zephyria 
First, he packed some of the things he had brought from his parents’ house, including his albums. Among them was a diary he had used for an elementary school assignment. He looked through it for a moment, reminiscing about a past he couldn’t quite remember, before beginning to move as diligently as possible. When the body is exhausted, the mind has no room to function.
He continued tidying up until dawn, and eventually, drained by the excessive energy spent, he sank onto the sofa. He seemed to fall into a sleep so deep it was as if he had lost consciousness.
After a short nap of about two hours, Eun-ha woke up vaguely around dawn and forced himself to continue the remaining cleanup. He carefully packed things that shouldn’t be thrown away and things he felt he couldn’t possibly discard into moving boxes. He also gathered all the traces of an undeniable homosexual relationship—things that would be quite embarrassing to expose to the cleaning crew who would come tomorrow to clear out everything in the place—into the boxes meant for disposal.
Once the massive cleanup was finished, he looked around the house.
A hollow and cluttered space. A cold landscape that stood in exact opposition to the universal image of a ‘home where someone lives.’ A place that felt as cold as a grayish-white hue.
It felt like a dream that he had stayed here.
It felt like a dream that he had lived with that person. Everything—the memories of being incredibly happy over trivial things, the longing to remain happy forever, and the memories of agonizing as if he were dying.
It felt like a dream, and he wished it had been one. Because he didn’t want to admit that all those past hours had been terribly futile and meaningless.
Because admitting that felt like losing direction on how to live moving forward.
They say people live for eternity on a fleeting moment of happiness.
Whenever Eun-ha recalled a memory of being very happy, he felt a surge of nausea. It was profoundly empty and hollow. For the past few years, he had fled in the opposite direction of happiness, driven by a terrifyingly awful sensation of being hollowed out. He told himself it was fine if there was nothing good or joyful, as long as things weren’t bad.
He squeezed his eyes shut as his stomach suddenly churned. He pressed his fist firmly against his solar plexus. Now that his body was relaxed, bitter thoughts began to fill his head as if they had been waiting for the chance. A familiar impulse to scream something surged as his mind wavered.
To stay calm, Eun-ha crouched on the floor. He hugged his legs and pressed his forehead against his knees. Taking slow, deep breaths, he thought of that boy. A face where emotions were transparently revealed. A kind, cute, and gentle personality. A boy who, surprisingly, always reacted with a cool composure without ever crossing a certain line.
The voice that had told him to say so if things were hard. The arms that had gently wrapped around his waist while saying it.
“…….”
On impulse, he took out his phone. Since it was only just past 6:00 AM, he suspected the call would go to voicemail, but he dialed anyway.
Because a sudden, intense wave of instability had hit him. Because it felt like he needed that boy.
Because he missed him so much.
However, despite having placed the call, he didn’t hear the ringing signal. Hearing nothing, he checked the screen, but the call hadn’t been disconnected. Confused, Eun-ha put the phone back to his ear.
“……What. Hello?”
— Yes, hello.
The boy answered neatly, as if to signal that the call had connected perfectly. For a moment, Eun-ha was so dumbfounded that he let out a weak breath. As if replying to messages within a second wasn’t enough, now he even answers the phone like this…
Didn’t he sound like someone who had been waiting for exactly this moment? Like someone who hadn’t slept a wink, constantly worrying and staying prepared.
Eun-ha caught his breath. Unable to control his naturally distorting expression, he felt distraught and pressed his forehead against his knees again. He felt like he was going to cry pathetically.
After swallowing his emotions, he barely managed to find his voice.
“Yeon-jun.”
— Yes.
“I’m done cleaning up.”
— Really?
“Yeah.”
I think so. Probably. It must be… I think so, but I’m not sure. I feel strange. It’s strange that it ends like this, and it’s strange that I can end it like this. Actually, I don’t think anything has been sorted out at all. This is so fucking shitty…
He muttered like a madman, not even knowing what he was saying, and then let out a deep sigh. Like someone who had suddenly regained their senses. Like self-derision.
“……I’m sorry.”
— For what?
“Just everything that happened over the last few days.”
— Hmm.
“……It probably wasn’t very pleasant for you. Seeing me act like this over an ex.”
— I was fine.
It was a cool, composed voice. Because those words, which should have been a mere formality, felt entirely sincere, Eun-ha had to struggle to control the emotions surging up again. The problem was that he wasn’t succeeding.
“……How can you be fine.”
How can you. You’re not supposed to be fine with that. How can you always be like this… If the person I was dating was struggling and losing their mind because of someone they met before, I think I’d actually go crazy and want to kill that bastard…
He muttered, already half out of his mind. Now, his voice was completely thick with moisture.
“You’re quite jealous, too.”
— What kind of slander is that, Hyung?
The boy laughed with a light reprimand. As if he were someone who wanted Eun-ha to laugh along with him.
Eun-ha’s lips slowly relaxed into a smile. But then, his mood shifted to a point where he couldn’t smile at all, and he rubbed his eyelids hard against his knees.
A soft voice leaked into his ear.
— Forget about my feelings for a moment. Hyung. Think about yourself first. Why are you worrying about me?
“…….”
— Are you feeling a bit better?
A voice that was consistently the same to a truly surprising degree. Listening to that voice, which brought stability to mind and body, he hesitated.
He hovered over a sentence that had been on the tip of his tongue for a while, his lips twitching, before finally letting the words out. They were words he had never once uttered to anyone in his life.
And they were the words the current Eun-ha wanted to vomit out the most.
“No. I’m not okay.”
— …….
“It’s hard.”
— …….
“I’m really sorry, but yeah. Right now. I think it’s too hard…….”
— …….
You told me to tell you if it was hard.
So…
So, just…
He continued rambling incoherently, and after a final, uncertain mumble, he fell silent. There was a period of silence after that. Yeon-jun did not react immediately. For reasons unknown.
That lengthening silence made him inexplicably anxious. It was the moment regret rushed in. Just before all sorts of negative thoughts began to boil over.
— Come outside, Hyung.
The boy said. With a voice that clearly revealed his inner joy. A voice that sounded almost pleased.
At that, Eun-ha snapped his head up and looked toward the entrance. Like someone lacking a sense of reality. Like someone truly dreaming.
He stared blankly with a look of disbelief, then sprang up. There was no hesitation in his steps as he headed toward the door somewhat impatiently. Like a person for whom every single second was insufficient.
And the moment he opened the door, his wrist was grabbed.
Thump—the door closed behind him.