『Morning』▷ mashikyu。

crescent

The flowers had long gone and withered, now nothing but snow showed on the beautiful cherry blossom trees. He stared at them, watching them without reason, simply entranced with its strange beauty. Trees were always so beautiful, whether they bustled in full bloom or their branches turned empty at fall and even when they were white like everything else in winter, they never cease to amaze him.

They stand tall, so strong, despite the many seasons that passed.

"Sir, you're about to be late for dinner."

He snapped out of his stupor at the man's reminder, red spreading across his cheeks in embarrassment, wholly flustered as he turned and ran towards them. The umbrella in his hand shifted with the weight of the snow atop, making all of it fall to cover his preceding footsteps until none of them were left. He paused for a moment, pursing his lips in disappointment at the sight of the marks he left gone so quickly, but espying his attendant slowly growing more impatient from the corner of his eyes made him hurry to the car.

When the door opened, however, he faltered. He hesitated, thought about staying instead. So he stood there awkwardly, with the poor attendant holding the door open for him, heart thumping with uncertainty.

"Young Master."

"I---"

"No, sir. You cannot stay. The head maid will have my head."

He processed that for a little while before retorting, "She won't! I promise I won't do anything troublesome."

"Sir Junkyu, sir," the butler insisted. "You are very wrong if you think that we're worried about you causing trouble."

Junkyu breathed out in frustration, the coat he held in his hands slipping.

"Then why can't I stay?"

Kang Jiyoon cleared his throat, gloved hand coming up to his mouth as if he were readying a speech. "Then, if you have forgotten," he began. "Sir currently has PTSD which leads to social anxiety, insomia, selective mutism, panic disorder, pyrophobia, and nyctophobia. You also have REM sleep disorder and certainly, nightmares are not helping with that. Therefore, you cannot survive on your own."

"... You forgot to mention I'm claustrophobic."

"Yes, I'm glad you know. Now please get in the car."

"I can survive on my own, you know. It's just a few hours," Junkyu reasoned. "I just want to stay here longer. Just a bit more."

"Sir, you can't even talk to strangers."

The younger master opened his mouth, about to refute but steered away from whatever riposte he thought of after realizing that he, indeed, could not speak to strangers. His social anxiety had only worsened as time passed, causing his selective mutism to resurface. Whenever he tried to talk to people he didn't know, no such voice came out of his mouth. With all his social-related issues, it was really not a good idea to stay outside alone.

And yet, he wanted to stay.

Three years ago, Junkyu was kicked out of his apartment. With his luggages at hand, he sat in front of a cherry blossom tree under the heavy rain, drenched as he vaguely thought about what to with his life. There he met a stranger, with eyes of honey billows and hands that held warmth, offering him a home that was all he ever wished for.

Today, he still wished for that home. So he came here everyday, waiting, like there was ever a promise that that man would ever come back. There was never a promise. It was only him that swore he would come back, and even if it took him a year, he still did--- only to find out that there was no one waiting for him at the home he came back for.

No one to hug him asleep in the night and kiss him awake in the morning. No one to keep him away from the nightmare that was the memory of his mother burning to death in front of him, or the voices that said he should've died back there too. Back then he wished he did, but Mashiho made him realize his worth and allow himself to love life. But now Mashiho was gone, so what should he do?

He clenched his hands.

"Please."

Jiyoon flinched.

"Just today. Then I won't ever come back here again."

The butler sighed, knowing he couldn't possibly deny such a request, relenting with a heavy heart.

"Alright," he succumbed. "Please be careful, sir. Call us when you need anything."

Junkyu was the brightest light bulb with glee, a huge grin on his face at the answer. He nodded vigorously, gripping at his umbrella and running back to rhe cherry blossom tree, hollering out a, "Thanks!" to Jiyoon as he did. The latter grunted and begrudgingly got in the car, berating himself for giving up so easily and allowing the young master to be left alone like that. Surely, he would be beheaded by the head maid for it.

Junkyu hoped not. It would be a pain to get a new attendant, since he wouldn't be able to talk to them with his condition.

-----

He stayed there for hours. He didn't know why, but he still sat in front of the very same tree where they first officially met, huddling to himself with his face buried on his knees.

It wasn't as though waiting would make Mashiho come back.

(He wished it would.)

(If it did then they would be together again by now, won't they?)

"Sir," someone called. "Can I borrow your umbrella?"

His breath catched. For a second he blanched, nothing in his mind--- and then the next it was filled with memories of the very first word that Mashiho said to him back then.

Sir.

Just one word.

One syllable.

And that was all it took for his heart to soar.

He looked up, nearly letting go of the umbrella, and there he was the hearth of his home. Curly hair framed his face, different from years ago, and yet his features remained the exact same. Like he hadn't aged, like time paused as he waited for him--- Mashiho looked the same like everything was yesterday and they were never apart. He stood there, white snow on his hair and his coat and everywhere, smiling down at his crouched figure, the crescent moon hung on the sky above appearing to smile at them too.

God, he looked beautiful.

Still so beautiful.

However, even if he looked the same that didn't mean that time had stopped for them somehow, and that meant that they were indeed far apart for more than two years. Without each other, their lives went on.

But that didn't change anything.

So Junkyu stood up, quick as he could, grabbing the other by the nape and pulling him in for a desperately yearning kiss, not even thinking of anything else at all.

Mashiho kissed him back, because two years wasn't enough to change anything when each other was their everything.

-----

Hi, I'm back! Short update but you get what you get lol. Thanks for sticking with me. Updating Schadenfreude soon 💕