I wake up the same ceiling every day that I'm actually amusing myself by pretending to be surprised to see a ceiling other than the one back home.

Home? I no longer know if I have a place I could call home. Is it the place that I left five years ago, leaving a family behind that gave up searching for me? Is it the place that I ran to, when it was the first time that I saw him again?

I received the news that Yunho was found dead in his cell, and I didn't know how to react. No, I didn't show any reaction. The detectives even asked me whether I knew he had planned it, or someone else would do that to him. I answered truthfully; I don't know. Of course they would suspect San to be behind it, because the cyanide couldn't have been there in the cell unless it magically appeared. In which, according to them, a ghost could do it. I merely shrugged because again, I don't know why San would do that to Yunho, or why Yunho had asked him to bring in the poisonous substance.

Maybe that was why they sent me to this facility, because they are convinced that I have turned crazy and they figured that I wouldn't hurt anyone anymore. They're right, but I don't know for which one. It's whether they're right about me turning crazy, or they're right about me not being capable to hurt anyone anymore. Maybe they're right about both, but I'm too occupied to think about that.

With both Yunho and San gone, it really looks like I don't have anyone else in this world. My family had disowned me, pretending they never had anyone that goes by my name in their family registry, refusing to have anything to do with a psychopath like me. My parents won't admit that I'm their son, and my sister won't admit that I'm her brother. It makes me wonder whether they were really invested in searching for me when I went missing four years ago, or they simply decided that they would let time roll by as I didn't appear on their doorstep. Gone were my parents who would cry in front of my bedroom door, asking me to return back to my previous self. I guess that was why they decided to leave me be, because I did not return to who I was before.

In the end, it all points back to me. It's all my fault.

I won't deny it, I never did deny it. Nobody cared to ask, nobody cared to find out. I was the reason for San's death, and I have never stopped regretting it ever since then. Even if I lose all my memories, that memory will remain fresh in my mind, until death comes to find me. Even if I can no longer speak to tell the truth, I will retain it deep within my heart, locked away. Besides the three who had lost their tongues, no one knows about the uncovered truth, including San himself. It seems that even the detectives made their own deductions and came to a conclusion on why I said I regretted being friends with them. They did ask the question straight to my face after they had successfully finished the game, but I found that my mouth could no longer speak the words I wanted to. Only gibberish comes out, my brain unable to even process what I was supposed to verbalize.

Did I hate San, for being heartless to do that to him?

No, I never hated him; it wasn't a feeling of hate. I loved him, and everybody else knew that. Even Yunho knew that, as he kept on nagging at how close we were until we couldn't be separated at all. But that was the problem I guess; I spent so much time with him that I started to feel... inferior? Jealousy, dissatisfaction? Was it a little bit of everything rolled into one? The more time I spent with him, the more I realized how perfect he was in every aspect. He was good-looking, smart, polite, likeable.

Even my parents had praised him more than they did to me, making me feel as if I was their adopted son and San was their real one. Everyone would unknowingly compare us that they didn't realize that I, too, had feelings. I tried to feel happy for him, but whenever he wasn't around I would complain and berate myself, thinking why I couldn't be like him. That was the moment I knew that I was a good actor; I managed to fake how I really felt at that moment. I don't even think San himself realized that I had these negative feelings towards him, wishing that I was never friends with him from the start.

But I couldn't hate him. He was too nice; he was a good friend. That had made the negative feelings towards him grow stronger.

It was never his fault, as much as he didn't deserve everything dark that had happened to him. He never did anything wrong to me, so why did I keep wanting to see him fall at least once, to taste how it feels like to struggle to get another point so that you would pass the class? I struggled everyday to keep my scholarship, knowing that I had to work my ass off more than he had to.

I was a coward because even though I wanted to shake him a little, I never had the courage to do it to him with my own two hands. I saw all the projects he did, the extra points he had gotten because the lecturers liked the paper he wrote. I had a lot of opportunities to do so, but I never did lay my hands on his works. It was because I tried to get back to my senses whenever I had negative thoughts, reminding myself that I was his friend, and a friend shouldn't do that to another.

Even if I did get back to my senses at that particular moment, it didn't mean I could get rid of the negative feelings altogether. I tried spending less time with him, but he would always come back to me, either bringing my favourite snacks with him or asking me to go somewhere with him. I couldn't shake the negative feelings off and I couldn't shake him off. I was stuck. He had always been clingy, and it never became a problem until I realized how hard it was for me to go around without him. To make matters worse, we were enrolled in the same course, we stayed in the same room, we were practically everywhere together. Our coursemates poked fun at us, saying that we were basically soulmates - most of the times even by pure luck, we would end up being in the same group for any groupwork. Of course, I liked being in a group with him; he's trustworthy, he did every job given to him and he wasn't stingy in sharing his knowledge.

People's mouths can never be shut, and by then, the negative feelings snowballed into something bigger, something unstoppable. Even though it was said jokingly, some would say to me that how could I be so close to San, but not be a genius like him? How could I be his friend since high school, but not pick up his good habits? I laughed along, saying that I can never be like him because he was too perfect, yet inside my heart felt like it was being pierced with something sharp repeatedly. They're other people's words that made me view San as a competitor, as someone that I should beat. San stayed oblivious, being the nice person he was, and even when he asked whether I was fine when I clearly wasn't, I lied to him and said I was. Then he would nod, and returned to whatever he was doing.

Yet again, it was my fault that I was easily influenced by what other people had said.

To know that someone else harboured the same negative feelings towards San was a guilty pleasure; I was glad that I actually found someone who understood me, but at the same time I knew I shouldn't be feeling that way to him. This someone was a dangerous person, as the rumours about him that were circulated said. He was someone tenacious, someone that would ignore his own brother just so he could get what he wanted, lived the life he thought he deserved.

As we were going through our final year, just another semester shy of graduating, I thought that maybe I could shake San a bit. So I walked up to the other student named Kang Yoochan, without knowing what I was about to put San into. I blabbered to him about San already having his final year project done. He didn't believe me, so I said that I would show it to him. When I did, he was impressed, and he took it away.

I was stupid. I tried to convince San to let it go, and said to him that he could always come up with another one before we were supposed to graduate. I didn't want him to meet Yoochan because I was scared of what's to come and what he's capable of. Of course he would be mad, but he never did once stop to wonder who could've given it to him. That was how much San had his trust in me, and I broke it easily, just because I was feeling inferior towards him, my own friend. I was the one who gave his project away, yet he was only determined to get it back from Yoochan. I had never seen him that mad, because nice guy Choi San would never be mad, but as he stepped out of our room I wished I held onto him firmer, made sure that he never left. Because as he slammed the door shut, his life was changed, no, ruined.

All because I was feeling inferior. All because I decided to extend my hand, asking to be his friend.

If Yoochan was the fire, I was the ignition.

I blamed myself everyday for his death, because I knew I was the starting point of it all. When San came back demanding for revenge, I knew I wouldn't refuse even if it meant throwing away my own life, because I was trying to extinguish the fire of guilt burning inside my chest. But still, even when he appeared in front of me, I couldn't bring myself to say that I was the one who gave his project away. He only smiled that dimpled smile of his, making my regret towards him even deeper, leaving marks that I don't think will ever be erased. I had to carry on with this for the rest of my life.

"Yah, Jung Wooyoung," I hear someone whisper, and I whip my head so fast to find the source of the sound that I almost popped a vein. "Psst, Jung Wooyoung."

It's weird, the voice sounds like it's stuck in my brain, but I see no one near me except for the other patients in the same room as mine. The other patients are too busy with themselves that they don't have any business to call out my name. I look around the room, expecting to see any nurses near me doing their daily rounds to give medications to us. But there is no one- except for those two people at the door, beaming at me like they are in a commercial for toothpaste. Those two people are ones that I know so well, and before I know it, my feet are already on the floor, wanting to meet them by the door. As soon as I reach the door though, they have disappeared.

I look around again, see them turn the corner and I follow. I run and I run, scared of losing them like I did before. I manage to catch up to them, feeling proud of myself as I feel like I just ran a marathon. I see them on the ledge, standing on top and pointing at something in the distance. I walk across the green flooring to join them, hopping onto the structure as I look below and then up. The ground below looks so far away but I'm not scared of heights. I don't feel nervous at all, but I feel calm instead. It's even more because I have two of my friends beside me, when I thought I had lost them forever.

Squinting my eyes to see what they're pointing at, Yunho suddenly says, "Look at that, we've always wanted to see the aurora. It's pretty, isn't it?"

San beside me, says dreamily, "It is. It's even prettier because the three of us get to see it together."

I feel myself sulking and I'm surprised to find my voice saying, "But I don't see it. Are you guys playing around with me?"

Both of them laugh, sounds that I haven't heard in a long time. "You'll see it once you join us."

"Join you?" I ask, genuinely confused.

San nods and Yunho, being the playful guy as he always is, asks in a singsong voice, "Will you join us?"

I don't quite understand what they were talking about, so I merely nod. I'll follow wherever they go, because I realize, albeit too late, that my home is wherever they are. I won't hesitate. To see them smiling again like this... it's a blessing. The next request from them sounds so simple that I don't even take a second to make a decision. What more do I have to lose?

"Take one step forward, and you'll see it. The aurora."

And I do.

The end.