Chapter Text
Little stars danced above the stream of water, kissed by the first appearance of the sun’s light. Rather than bathing in the amber hues of daybreak, the river was dyed the faintest hint of lavender, clueing in its true nature. Heechul's hand hovered just above the waves, only to retract it before his fingers connected with the surface.
His younger, haughty self made the mistake of admiring his reflection at that same spot, once; overly preoccupied with fixing the tiniest imperfection on his face, he failed to notice how close his legs were to losing balance. As though an immediate comeuppance, his vanity got the better of him, and Heechul plummeted into cold, unforgiving waters.
What he believed was a shallow river had swallowed him whole. Panic willed his arms to flail and catch the attention of somebody—anybody, please, I don't want to die—but the weight of the surrounding liquid merely dragged him further down. Fear churned in his stomach and came up as tears that mixed with the water. The lack of air forced any rational thought out of him. Heechul opened his mouth to breathe and choked on more fluid.
The frigid waters numbing his limbs failed to dampen the burning sensation clawing at his throat. His lungs screamed for air, needing to replace the liquid that did not belong inside. His vision swam in blacks and blues and the waning shimmer of the light rippling above, mocking his vulnerable state.
Serves you right, Heechul thought the stars had said, and he berated himself for ever thinking that drowning was just a slow death.
The last thing he had seen before his body surrendered to the river’s depths was a warped silhouette of a person. There came a small comfort in knowing that someone did come to his rescue, if only a moment too late.
Heechul woke up with no memory of his previous life.
His savior—who went by the name Yesung—nursed him back to health, and when he found out about Heechul’s apparent amnesia, took him in as well. Yesung looked even younger than him, all soft features and almond eyes, but acted much too mature for his age, and Heechul had half a mind to question the whereabouts of his parents.
Once he awoke, the first thing he had requested was to hide the mirrors. Narcissism led to his loss of memory, and his reflection only served as a daily reminder of it.
“Shhh, don’t cry now. Stop blaming yourself for something that was out of your control.” Yesung eased his heavy sobs, but nothing made sense to him. Who else would be at fault, when he had brought this upon himself?
Heechul fell asleep with tear-stained cheeks, Yesung's hand clasped tightly on his own.
That same night, Heechul discovered he could wander into other people’s subconscious.
He could not tell how long he had been freefalling in the empty space, but he recalled landing in a body of water. A surge of calmness overcame him, like waves lapping at the shore in the early hours of dawn, before the scene cleared and an image of the river came to life.
Heechul spotted his thirteen year old self on the shore, drenched and devoid of life, and a similarly exhausted figure whose eyes were trained on the rise and fall of his chest.
“You poor thing, the waves sure did a number on you.”
The voice is hauntingly familiar, but Heechul could not make out the face of its owner. He squinted from where he stood knee-deep in the river, unsure of whether or not to learn the stranger’s identity.
He realized he had no need to, for the boy lifted his head and he was graced by the sight of Yesung's face, but a blank expression replaced the gentleness he knew the other for.
“What a reckless boy. Don't you have any self-preservation?”
Yesung leveled with Heechul's unconscious body, placing a hand on his forehead. Ripples of energy emanated from his palm, traveling downward and surrounding the corpse—body, he corrected himself, he couldn’t be dead yet—in a thin, violet aura. Heechul watched his too-small frame shudder and cough up water on Yesung’s command, but his eyes never opened.
“You belong to me now,” Yesung declared.
The burning in his throat returned tenfold. Heechul felt like he had plunged into the river yet again; only this time, Yesung was holding his head under. The water rose to his thighs, but his feet were frozen in place. His stomach lurched in a swell of despair, threatening to empty last night’s meal. He choked on the initial sting of fluid in his lungs and unrelenting need to get out.
And Yesung turned at the gasp he did not mean to release.
Fear flooded through his veins. The water that had now reached above his chest was colder than he remembered it being. His mind cried out in alarm, as the eyes of his captor pierced through his soul like a freight train—
Heechul jolted awake in cold sweat.
Yesung stirred from sleep when he pulled away from him, body snuggled close to his own.
“What's wrong?”
“Stay away from me!” Heechul swatted the hand that tried to reach for him.
The confusion on Yesung’s face did not fit him; being the one who erased his memories, he should not look so concerned.
“I don’t understand wh-”
“You deceived me! I trusted you!” He lifted the blanket to his face like a makeshift shield.
Ironically, the piece of fabric had given him a false sense of security more than the room he used to call his safe place. The sun had yet to rise, and Heechul wondered if the light of the moon would be enough to lead him to an escape.
“Chullie, I think you just had a bad dream.” His heart quivered at the nickname. It couldn’t be, not when it felt so real!
“I know what I saw!” The tears brimming in his eyes merely served to blur his vision.
“It wasn’t just any dream, it was a memory. Your memory. You... saved me, but you a-also said I belonged to you...” Heechul sobbed.
The bitter look of realization on Yesung’s face confirmed it.
“Why? Why did you erase my memories?”
“Chul, sweetie, I can explain.”
“Please, I... I just want to see them again.” He slumped on the bedframe.
“I've been getting visions of my... My true family. I saw my parents scolding me for talking back to them. My sister pinched my cheek the same way you always do,” he chuckled dryly. The sound of laughter that was not his rang in his ears.
“But Sungie, I don't know what they look like. I can't see them at all—as if there’s this... Fog, blocking them from me.” Heechul sat up in desperation, meeting Yesung's eyes for the first time since he had woken up.
“Won't you give them back to me?” He pleaded.
His heart sank when Yesung shook his head.
He should have recoiled when he wrapped his arms around him, but Heechul longed for the embrace of a sibling he could not remember, and Yesung filled in the role, even with what transpired within his subconscious. He quelled what remained of Heechul’s earlier hopelessness as he pulled him into his lap, wiping the tears streaming down his face with delicate fingers.
Once his woes had relented, Yesung began narrating a far-fetched tale.
“Chullie, I’m not sure how you entered my dreams to begin with, but I need you to understand this. You didn’t drown because you were admiring your reflection.”
He intertwined their fingers together, drawing circles on the back of Heechul’s hand. Heechul chewed on his lower lip in anticipation.
“You died saving someone.”
The truth wedged itself as a knot in his chest. His voice faltered when he echoed the words. To be on the cusp of death was one thing, but to be told his lungs had truly stopped breathing at one point was another. Even so, Heechul could not contain the relief that washed over him. If someone else got to live a ittle longer because of him, then perhaps losing his memories had been worth it.
“It was a little boy, probably a year or two younger than you. You got him close enough to shore, but you forgot yourself, dummy.” Yesung broke off the handholding to caress his cheek, and Heechul melted into the touch almost immediately. How could he have mistaken this sweetness for trickery?
“I guess I’m not as selfish as I thought I was,” he muttered.
“Of course not!” Yesung insisted, bringing up his other hand to cradle his face. The almond eyes were red and swollen, like they had been holding in his emotions, and Heechul wanted to kick himself for causing it.
“You were such a brave kid. Zero survival skills, sure, but you didn’t hesitate to dive in. You saved a life, Chullie. The river would have shown its gratitude for that." His tone was so resolute Heechul was inclined to believe him.
“The river? What’s it got to do with me?”
“Silly boy,” Yesung chuckled; a pretty sound he would willingly make a fool of himself to hear again.
Heechul yearned for the lost warmth when the other stood up and led him outside, prompting a series of questions that died on his tongue. A passing glimpse at the clock told him it was only a quarter past 2am. The creaking of the floor beneath them resounded in the dead of night, but Yesung did not seem to mind even the chill air that brushed against their faces.
Yesung hummed a low, soothing tune that Heechul couldn’t put a name to in the five minutes it took to reach the destination. Upon their arrival, the tumultuous waters simmered down into a rhythmic lullaby. Under the moonlight’s influence, thousands of stars painted the inky abyss in a silver sheen. If Heechul considered another step, he could see the same stars that taunted him from when he had plunged into the river.
(Serves you right, he thought he heard them repeat. He ignored it in favor of Yesung's assurance.)
“There’s a few things I should let you know.” Yesung sported a serious look on his face. Heechul shrugged further into the cardigan he remembered to grab.
“This...” He gestured to the waters, “is the river of dreams.”
At Heechul's dumbfounded expression, the older boy continued. “The water that runs through this is also the dreams you see in your sleep.”
“That’s impossible,” Heechul giggled, but lost his grin when Yesung did not laugh along. “You're not serious, aren’t you... Sungie?”
“Chul, I'm the river’s guardian. I think I would know what I'm talking about.”
It was as if a glamour had worn off, for Yesung was now in a sparkling suit of misty grey. Before he knew it, the jet-black hair faded to platinum white, its radiance enhanced by the moon hanging above them. Little diamonds resembling droplets of water adorned the base of his shoulders, and his skin was bathed in an ethereal shimmer that made him look translucent.
He looked no less than a deity, Heechul thought to himself.
“Wait ‘til you see Teukie-hyung,” Yesung chuckled. He must have been thinking out loud, Heechul presumed, but he filed the name for later.
“I only take this form when I'm carrying out my duties.” He mourned the getup when Yesung changed back, although his see-through skin remained glistening in the pale moonlight. “But it’s mostly regulating the water levels and not letting mortals fall—or in your case, dive—to their death.”
The one time he had seen him watching TV, Yesung looked like the epitome of sorrow, and the fake smile he offered when Heechul prodded was the least bit convincing. He recalled hearing the news reporter announce the increasing suicide rate in the area, and drowning being the number one cause.
Heechul yearned to ask how the river of dreams came to be, how many non-humans roamed their world, and if his newfound ability was the gift he claimed the waters would grant.
“...You look too young to be, uh, a guardian.”
If Yesung had noticed the change of subject, he chose to indulge in the compliment instead.
“My body might be of a twelve year old’s, but my soul has tended to this river for more than a century.”
“Oh—okay,” he stammered, “I think I need to sit down.”
Heechul’s legs were a moment away from turning into jelly. Yesung snapped his fingers at that, and a bench made of water materialized from underneath them. The seat was cold and strange and solid when he sat on it, but his head hurt too much to make sense of it all.
Heechul found comfort in the crook of Yesung’s shoulder. He did not know how long they had stayed there, the hushed whispers of the river filling in the already comfortable silence. If he took the older boy’s hand in his, merely to satiate the beginnings of a crush in his heart, Yesung did not notice.
“Sungie, does that mean I call you ‘hyung’ now?”
“That's what you’re worried about?” Yesung looked at him incredulously, but the smile on his face gave away the faux annoyance.