CHRISTOPHER BANG IS in love with being alive.

All day, he does nothing but surf. He spends his mornings and evenings in the water, visits his little store in between that. He's all puppy smiles and cheesy jokes because his life is just perfect like that. He wants nothing else. He needs nothing else.

Chan, on the other hand, drowns his sorrows in the salty ocean that raised him. When that isn't enough, he puts that little waste of oxygen he calls a body to some use by selling fruits and collecting mail for neighbouring elders. He has trouble falling asleep every night because all he dreams of is his mother, a breathing corpse of dead eyes and pale hair, or her beloved wife whose death came peacefully, expectedly, but just as painfully. He wants the world. He needs the world.

And he, whoever he truly is, hopes to have those two sides unite at some point. To be a complete, content person with a past, with a future, with stories to tell and people to love. With a life worth living and a family worth dying for.

Until then, he settles for Jeongin.

"I think this is crazy," Jeongin mutters flatly, unimpressed eyes gazing into the ocean as Chan shrugs next to him.

"Could be. I won't know until I try, right?"

"Cool, but do you have to, though?" the boy hushes out. There's a pout to his lips that Chan knows is the residue of being told be can gain everything if he just acts cute. "I was perfectly content watching 'Friends' back inside."

"Oh, I bet you were." Chan can't help his smile as Jeongin only rolls his eyes. He's adorable. "It won't take long. I just want to make sure."

Jeongin simply runs a hand through the mess of bleached silver hair on top of his head and laughs humourlessly. He's against it and he wants Chan to know it. He doesn't want to explain why exactly he minds it because that would mean showing actual emotions and that 'fucking sucks'.

"Whatever. If you drown out there or accidentally step into a parallel dimension, I'm not getting you out, you can bet on that." Jeongin's face is scrunched up in suspicion. "Just be careful."

Chan punches his shoulder lightly. "Aw, look at you. You love me after all, don't you, Innie?"

"Yeah, right. I just don't feel like feeding Bella when you kick the bucket, that's all."

His tone is as flat as ever, but the red flush in his cheeks can't be just from the wind.

Chan decides to leave the conversation at that and grabs the navy blue surfboard before stepping forward. The ocean is warning him with restless waves, and he greets it with a smile. He can do this.

In a matter of minutes, Jeongin is far behind, arms probably crossed over his chest in all the worry he's always trying to hide, but Chan is in the water. Both of his feet are stable on the surfboard and he shifts his weight forward to gain speed. If he turns around, he probably won't even see Jeongin anymore.

He can almost taste the adrenaline on his tongue. It's sweet and it's red hot and the skies are blue. The ocean appears greener the more he looks at it, until a small wave that he fails to catch washes over him and it's all white.

After Lee Minho dropped him off a few nights ago and Chan unlocked the door his house, he was surprised not to be greeted by Bella right away --- usually she'd be barking at him while he fumbles with the lock, only to tackle him the moment he's inside and give him thousands of disgusting (and adorable) licks. It was only when he stepped into the living room and saw the silver haired boy asleep, cuddled up on the couch with the puppy, an almost empty bowl of popcorn on the table and the TV still on, that he realised the reason for that.

The next morning, Jeongin woke up to Chan hugging him tightly and squeezed himself out of the firm grip with a stream of curses leaving his lips. He proceeded to interrogate Chan and find out why he'd been gone for so long on the day the shop was closed and when Chan explained it all and swore him not to tell anyone, Jeongin got the most brilliant idea ever.

"If Hwang won't send the Chasers out to check the water, we could go." As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Chan could see it, Jeongin's eyes widening, lips parting, ready to take it all back, but Chan didn't let him.

"We could," was all he said. He earned himself an eyeroll from Jeongin before the boy left and told him to do whatever he wanted, those ideas were always ridiculous anyway.

Chan knew there was a storm coming. The clouds seemed menacing as they loomed over their little island, hiding the sun from time to time and promising nasty weather. That one last sunny day he had to use to work in the fields. Berries had to be picked unless he wanted to let the storm ruin them like it had done last year.

So now, on the third cloudy day in a row and the clearest the sky will be, he is out in the middle of the ocean, searching.

He isn't sure what he is searching for. Land, probably, any kind of shore on the other side. It's not promising, really, because the waves are stronger and the sky's darker the farther he is from home.

Lightning splits the horizon into two for a moment and Chan flinches. He's always hated thunder, so when the rumbling comes, he grits his teeth and forces himself to go on. He loses balance once, twice, three times, but goes on. It's the farthest he's ever gone.

There's nothing ahead. Dark green and restless, the water surrounds him completely. The sky is angry, flashing with menacing whites and silvers of lightning, and Chan isn't sure how to go on.

It's only when his foot slips off and a wave crashes over him that the salty water brings him back to his senses and he decides to return, soaked in defeat and confusion.

The sky is now completely dark, except for those moments of sharp lighting illuminating the shore where he sees a silver head of hair. Jeongin is still waiting for him and something about it makes him smile.

Jeongin is probably the closest to a soulmate he'll ever get. Having grown up with absent parents, he's never settled completely, living at Chan's more than he does in his own home. Now he's gotten himself a job as a caretaker to Ms Choi, an old lady who lets him stay in her small house by the Border. He's managed to make a life for himself, as much as one possibly can in this world, and Chan is proud of him, even though now he has no one to help him around the plantations anymore.

All along, Jeongin has been a friend to Chan like no one ever has. With his bitter humour and snappy tone, he tends to help when Chan is too deep in his thoughts, brings him back to their strange reality with a comment or two. He's mostly nice when he's in the mood to watch TV, so he sneaks into Chan's home without invitation whenever he feels like it. 'It's not my fault you're the only person with an actual TV on our side,' he'd mumble and Chan would always laugh at that and attempt to get some cuddles. He knows beneath all that tough attitude, Jeongin sees them as soulmates, too.

"You're insane!" he screams as soon as Chan's out of the water. His hair is matted to his forehead and the rain has soaked his --- Chan's --- cardigan completely. He steps in front of Chan with a glare. "It's been hours. I thought you... I thought..."

"It's okay," Chan only whispers, breath falling short when Jeongin lifts a hand and pats his head with a gentleness he's never used before.

"Let's get you inside and you'll tell me everything."

When Jeongin says that, Chan doesn't expect him to do what he does next, but somehow, he finds himself wrapped in a blanket with a cup of hot tea, a confused Bella on one side and an even more confused Jeongin on the other. The boy's made sure to get him warm before sitting down to hear him out.

"There's nothing." Chan can hear the disappointment in his own voice. "Water, everywhere. I just don't get it."

Jeongin's lips are pursed as he shakes his head, gaze settled somewhere on the coffee table. His arms are crossed over his chest, attempting to gain at least a bit of warmth by the gesture. "Me neither. This guy..." he pauses, "Hwang finds the boy in the ocean. Drowning. He's not from here. He can't speak our language."

"He can't."

"What if he's lying?" Jeongin shrugs. "I mean, you're sure he can't speak it? What if he's just faking it?"

"Trust me," Chan mumbles. His mind brings back the memories of the boy crying, screaming for help, of the fear in his eyes. "Everything he's been through... no one would go through that voluntarily. He wouldn't make this up."

"And you can promise me that?" Jeongin chuckles. "Chan, I can't deny you could be right. We can go out another day, look for something again, hell, I'll go with you, but think about it. You don't know this guy. You don't know if he's being honest."

Chan shakes his head. It's pulsing. Every inch of his body aches and he isn't sure how much longer he can wait until he gets to settle under the covers and call it a day. He doesn't let Jeongin see it, trying to appear as awake and healthy as he can.

He takes another sip of his tea and closes his eyes. The liquid seems to warm his very soul and he can't say he doesn't appreciate it.

"I don't have any other choice. You know me, Jeongin," he says finally. "You know what my thoughts on this were before Felix showed up. This was always... strange to me. It just sounded crazy that out of billions of people in the world, only a couple hundred survived. And that everything except for the island is dead. That just can't be true. And Felix is our way to make sure. Felix --- he might be the key to everything."

There's a long pause. Bella's head tilts in Jeongin's direction as though she's anticipating his answer as much as Chan is. Jeongin notices her and calls her over with a simple pat on his thigh. Clumsily, she shuffles towards him and cuddles up to him with a satisfied sigh.

This seems to help Jeongin settle as well. "I trust your judgement," he concludes. "Just be smart, okay?"

Chan forces a small smile. It's insecure, but he doesn't let it show enough for Jeongin to worry. He nods, then spreads his arms to invite both the boy and the dog into his embrace. Reluctantly, Jeongin moves towards him and doesn't forget to throw in a roll of his eyes and a scoff, but wraps his arms around his big brother nonetheless.

_______________

Hope is a dangerous thing. It shows up when we don't expect it, slowly, but strongly. Suddenly, we care about certain things way more than we should. And there's nothing we can do to stop it.

So despite everything his mind tells him, to focus, to forget those ridiculous comments and a rusty little SUV, Chan silently hopes to see Lee Minho again. It's something he can't help.

It's not like he wants to. Minho is annoying, unreliable and cynical, the kind of person Chan would avoid at any cost, under different circumstances, of course. This way, with everything that's going on, he lets it happen. He lets himself hope that the one person who actually believes him completely will just... show up one day.

And show up he does.

One rainy Tuesday morning, Chan hears the familiar rumbling of a car outside his shop. It's not as quiet as those of the chancellor's car, it's noisy, messy, and he instantly knows who the owner of the vehicle is. When the bell above the door of the shop chimes and a head of purple hair shows up, he can't help his relief.

Minho is wearing something familiar. Chan thinks he must be imagining it, but he looks a little closer and yes, those are definitely the same clothes he wore the other day. Fresh, clean and soft looking, but identical. Strange.

His hair looks less messy than it did that day, but it's still tousled in a manner that makes Chan think he barely brushed through it with enough care. It looks frizzy and the rain has soaked through it just a bit, probably during his trip from the car to the store.

The disappointment sinks in only when Minho gives him nothing but a tiny hello and disappears between the isles. That hope he had for a conversation, a sharp and snarky exchange with the mechanic, is gone within a few seconds.

He doesn't let himself dwell on it because another customer walks in.

Chan recognises them immediately. Messy chestnut hair, dripping wet, a leather jacket and a smirk that carries as much confidence as it does insecurity.

"Jisung," Chan greets, noticing the small pronoun badge on the faded band tee that the jacket almost covers. "What can I help you with today?"

"'Sup?" is the only response he gets before Jisung grabs a bag of chips and throws it onto the counter. "Be right back." And they're gone.

Jisung lives on the poorest part of the island, completely alone. People say they had a dad, or an uncle or a cousin, at some point, but lost him to the virus. They were also quite the sunshine before life showed its true self and turned them into this. Alone and spiteful and---

"Have I seen him before?"

Chan had probably zoned out staring at the half empty fridge because Minho is tilting his head with curiosity, suddenly in Chan's space again.

"It's them, actually," he corrects and shrugs. "Not sure. They deliver mail. Maybe that's how you know them."

Minho purses his lips. "I doubt it."

Then he dumps a bag of raspberries onto the counter and moves along. He walks over to the fridge and opens it, examining everything it contains. There are a few water bottles at the very top, then soft drinks below them, and a single vanilla ice cream at the very bottom.

Chan watches as Minho grabs the ice cream and turns the package in his hand for whatever reason. His lips turn into a small smile and the very corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly and it's endearing.

"I'm paying for all of this, you don't have to watch me like I'm gonna steal something."

Mouth open, Chan can only shake his head. "I wasn't—"

"I was joking," Minho admits with a small sigh. "You're easy to fluster, really. All I gotta do is confront you about anything and you're uncomfortable."

"Stop."

"Hm... I don't think I will. It's cute." Chan ignores him completely and Minho only continues. "So... any news on the castaway?"

Chan's eyes widen and he presses a finger against his own mouth, tilting his head in the direction of the isles, with Jisung in mind. Minho rolls his eyes at that.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Chan says in a quieter tone. "I'm figuring it out."

"Oh, I thought we were past this stage already!" Minho whines. "You're keeping secrets again, Mr Bang. Here I thought you needed my help and wanted to exchange information."

Information?

Could Minho possibly have more news on the situation? He does have a way of finding out things he can't possibly know, so maybe he's telling the truth.

"What kind of information?"

"On our little Taken, of course!" The grin on Minho's face is one of triumph. "And the plans they've got for him."

Sighing, Chan leans closer over the counter. Not too close, though, because that seems to be exactly what Minho is waiting for. For Chan to drop his guard and do whatever he wants him to. So Chan keeps a distance, but leans in enough to show he's ready for a serious conversation that does not involve Han fucking Jisung hearing everything.

"Tell me."

Minho laughs. He laughs in Chan's face, eyes crinkled around the corners and large front teeth showing. Chan wants to knock them out of his skull.

Before he can do that, Minho moves his hand and takes one single raspberry before resting it against his lips. Chan frowns, but when he catches himself watching the action with too much attention, his eyes snap back to Minho's, the venomous green in them glimmering with something determined. Minho swallows the raspberry with a hum and an expectant glance Chan's way. It takes Chan a second, maybe two, but then he groans and nods at the mechanic.

"Those are on the house."

"My, my, you're a smart one," Minho gushes. "Do you have any cat food?"

Chan blinks. "Cat food?"

"Yes," Minho says with a nod. "You know those beautiful, elegant, hairy little creatures with ears and soft little---"

"I have some." He ducks down to look at the shelf behind him, noticing cans on top of cans of cat food. Handmade by Mr Lim and delivered to the store days ago. Harsher than intended, he grabs four cans, then opts for three more and throws them all onto the counter. "Happy now?"

"Incredibly, darling." Minho winks at him. Attempts to. Both of his eyes close at the motion, but Chan says nothing. "Now, what is it that you want to know?"

Chan can't help his frown. Is this guy messing with him? Does he expect Chan to interrogate him? Maybe he really has nothing to say after all.

"What do you know?" Chan asks simply. "It better be good."

"Oh, you're threatening me now, Mr Bang?" Minho's eyebrow is raised, the green half of his eye piercing right through Chan. "I might have to beat around the bush more often, then."

"Minho."

The mechanic chuckles, tone soft and light, before leaning in even closer. The remains of his smile are still present, fading from his lips like the purple in his hair. It's gentle, dropping in a manner so slow that, when his expression is serious again, it's as though he never smiled in the first place.

"Commander Hwang is teaching the boy our mother tongue for some reason. I think he's planning on moving him again. Also, surprisingly, he actually did his homework," he whispers. "He listened to you and sent out a team of Chasers to search the sea. They came back a few hours ago."

Chan tilts his head. Confusion sinks in, buzzing like the noise on the screen of his TV when the wind gets too strong. White, piercing sharp and numb at the same time.

"How do you know I suggested that? I don't remember telling you." He frowns and Minho shakes his head.

"It doesn't matter," he dismisses.

The confusion finally dies down.

"I actually went to see for myself," Chan confesses. "I found nothing."

"Oh, yeah?" Minho doesn't seem to trust him. His voice is raised slightly in comparison to how he talked minutes ago, but he still looks completely serious. That's a new development for sure. "How far?"

Chan's face feels warm as he lowers his gaze to Minho's fingers splayed over the counter, drumming against the surface. He shrugs. "Not too far. The weather wasn't the best for it, so I just... returned."

He expects Minho to laugh. To mock him, perhaps. How could Chan claim such a thing, having gone no further than a few kilometres out?

Yet, somehow, Minho seems to understand. He doesn't snicker, doesn't scoff or smirk in a way that makes Chan want to punch him. He frowns, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and Chan simply waits to see what he says.

"You see, I... I don't think you went far enough." He smiles, barely. "And I surely don't think they're telling the truth."

No surprise there. There should not be any, at least.

It's always been like this. A place, a small, secluded area, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Judgemental, quiet people with no complaints and no voice. And it's never made sense.

Hearing it from Minho, that they're lying, that there is something else to it all, it's reassuring in a way Chan can not really explain. He won't be able to explain it for at least a while longer, but it makes him nod weakly.

"What do you think, then?"

Minho crosses his arms over his chest. "I think they don't want us to get out. Something is out there, something bigger, and they want to keep us inside." He shakes his head. "It's bigger than we think it is. I think..."

"You think what?" Chan rushes and sees the flicker of worry in Minho's eyes. They soften, flutter closed and he takes a step back. Chan sighs. "You can tell me."

Minho's tongue comes to swipe over his dry bottom lip and he swallows before looking up at Chan again. His eyes are glassy.

"There could be more people outside." A pause. "Or something worse."

Chan tries to steady his breath so he can actually hear Minho's voice. It barely surpasses a whisper, and Chan is suddenly aware of how... vulnerable Minho appears. Sure, Chan has only seen him once before, but that one time has managed to present the mechanic as someone nonchalant, completely relaxed, someone who makes fun of everything shitty in life and doesn't care as much. Yet, the version of Minho in front of him right now, it contradicts everything he's thought him to be.

"That's why I wanna go out there," Chan replies. "I want to make sure it's safe, for us and for Felix."

There's something else. He notices it in the way Minho blinks away the wetness in his eyes and opens his mouth to speak before a new voice interrupts him.

"Who's Felix?" Jisung's grin is characteristically wide as they place a few items near Minho's raspberries and go over to the mailbox.

They've delivered letters for a couple of years, and the mechanism is simple. People who live nearby leave their letters in Chan's mailbox, Jisung collects them and takes them to the right addresses, visits other stores on the island and does the same. It's probably not so well paid, but they manage to live a decent life, Chan assumes. He never asks, it feels intrusive to ask anyone such a thing, especially someone like Jisung.

"Felix is a... cousin of mine." Minho's façade is back on and he smirks at the way Chan tries to get out of this one.

"Damn," Jisung mumbles with a whistle. "Didn't know you had a cousin, Channie."

Fucking hell, Jisung.

Minho's gasp is loud. Too fucking loud. "Channie?" He laughs. "I knew Christopher wasn't your actual name. It's just so... artificial. Chan suits you so much better."

"Yeah, well..." Chan forces a grin. "It's limited to friends."

"Good to know."

The breath of silence as Jisung watches the silent exchange that follows is quick. Chan and Minho glare at each other for a second, maybe two or three, until Chan decides to just give up and turn back to his more sufferable customer.

"Felix is from the other side," he explains to Jisung. He feels the need to add, "of the island, I mean."

Jisung snorts and shuffles over to the mailbox by the entrance. They open it swiftly, like they do every other day, and grab the pile of letters that's been collecting dust inside. Chan knows there's nothing to hope for, no mail to arrive, so he simply grabs a bag and starts packing up the cans of cat food for Minho to take.

"If you're always so hostile with your customers, Channie, it's no surprise you barely have any." Minho's voice is quiet, yet firm. It's also bright enough to indicate he's teasing, messing around. Unlike Hwang Hyunjin, for example, who delivers every line with a breathy tone that's nothing if not threatening.

"True," Jisung agrees and Chan sees them fumble with a light green envelope before getting back to the cans he needs to pack. "He's nice to me, though, he knows I always---"

The sudden choked up sound that prevents any more words from leaving Jisung's lips forces Chan's attention towards them and he pauses his actions, lowering the bag back onto the counter. Minho frowns, noticing his reaction, and follows his gaze.

Jisung is standing still. Their hands are still holding that green envelope with so much attention, knuckles white and face even whiter. Chan can't see what's written on the envelope, if anything. Minho doesn't seem to succeed either, until Jisung sighs and walks over to them both.

They stand close to Minho, dangerously close. Knowing them, Chan stands up straighter, ready to react. Before he can do anything, Jisung hands the envelope to Minho with a sigh. "Use it for something fun, I don't give a fuck."

And then they step into the rain and Minho and Chan are alone once more.

"What was that about?" he mutters to a silent Minho, awaiting any kind of response.

Minho is still concentrated on the green envelope, furrowed brows and bitten lips. Eventually, he blinks up at Chan and places it on the counter.

The handwriting is barely legible. Painfully neat. So much order, so many rules, so much perfection Chan struggles to read it. When he finally does, however, it doesn't make that big of a difference.

'You cannot expect me to simply forget about you, my dove.'

"It's not signed," Minho finally points out. "'My dove'... Do you know who might have sent this?"

"I know Jisung, but not that well. Only one way to find out."

Chan rips the envelope open and the contents spill onto the counter.

Money. So much fucking money. Every bill looks brand new, freshly printed, though those haven't been around for decades. There's probably enough money to satisfy Chan's weekly needs. He looks up at Minho and his expression is one of awe.

"Wanna get a beer?"

"I'm at work, Minho."

"So am I." He chuckles. "Come on, darling. It's almost closing time. I'll drop you off."

"I live ten minutes away."

"So what?" When Chan doesn't reply, Minho takes it as a yes. That sinister grin on his face, he eyes the money again. "How much more cat food can I buy with half of this?"

"Fucking hell."

a/n:
-yeah!! a more peaceful
chapter for you guys! we needed to meet
the rest of the cast, this felt
like a fitting opportunity for such
a thing. hope you liked it!

-opinions on jeongin? jisung?
i tried to use their pronouns properly,
really hope i didn't make a mistake.
if i did, please correct me KINDLY
and i'll fix it, it's purely accidental!

-how did you guys like the chapter?
we get to see more of the backstory
of the characters, more minchan moments.
they're messy, but endearing in a way, idk.
hope you like them as much as i do.

-if you have any theories about
the letter or what minho said,
how he found out etc, let me know!
take care<3
lee xx