—

"Come on! You can do better than that!"

"Slow down, Kiddo!"

"And you're supposed to be an athlete. Please. Athlete, my ass."

"I am an athlete. But I'm a basketball player, not a track star."

"Still, you gotta have some endurance, Yoongi! Come on, ten minutes left and then suicide drills!" He chirped, running backwards along the blue track with a smile.

"Suicides too?" Yoongi's eyes seemed to pop out of his head then. He let out a groan, sweat beading around his sweatband, "I'm gonna die!"

Hoseok, far away on the bleachers, smiled.

This is what he did every Sunday, and it never got old. Watching Yoongi train, occasionally with a boy he called "Kiddo", was oddly calming under a never-ending summer's sun.

The yellow baseball cap atop his head kept him from squinting the sun away as he sat on the bleachers, legs crossed and all. And so Hoseok shut his eyes and breathed.

"So are you just gonna sit here and watch him or are you gonna go talk to him?"

He turned to her and tilted his head.

Her jet black hair and amber eyes glowed equally under the sun, the freshly cut locks sported in the style of a bob. He liked the new look on her.

She was finally finding ways to cope with her arrival after all these months.

Hoseok exhaled the clear blue skies and followed the two boys on the track. And thus he told her, in perfect content and happy of heart,

"When the time is right."

A breeze drifted past him and he felt light as a feather, the air smelled like fresh rain and wet earth. Rain wasn't rare in heaven, he learned, but he learned to like it. For with every new rain came another set of new souls.

Everyone in this heaven was brought here by accident. Their death wasn't necessarily meant to be. If they wouldn't have crossed the street or ran the light; if they wouldn't have kept quiet or been so great, or broken a heart, or indulged too much, or done too little, everything would be so different now.

Heaven was better than Earth, in a way though. Sure this place is for accidents, but sometimes, things happen by chance. And that's how his amber-eyed best friend, Antonella, could be here with him. She wasn't dead, but she was almost there. She can't decide what she wants. So she travels a lot between the planes.

Sometimes he was envious of her. He wished he could still see his family and Oksook and maybe even find his dream boy. Others considered him lucky. He was one of the few souls who had vivid, unbroken memory of his life before. Everything he had done had carried over with him to the other side. Sometimes it was a blessing. Others, it only brought heartache and tears.

Antonella had the best of both worlds without knowing it. That was what made him desirous.

But alas his fate was here. Here, under cotton clouds. Here, between the zephyrs east and west. Here, with ukulele strings against his finger tips. Here, with the grey-haired boy who did not even know his name.

It brought a smile to his face every time.

"We come to the track every Sunday to watch him train. Don't you think now is the time?" Antonella sighed, somewhat lacking of empathy as she toyed with her cellphone.

Hoseok scoffed, "You don't even know what I have to tell him, Antonella."

"I don't have to to know that you're wasting time."

"It's not like I'm going to run out of time. So what's the rush?"

"I don't know."

He took one last wistful look, then stood up.

"Come on, let's go." He spoke, dusting off his jeans.

"Where to?"

"Little Italy. It's been a while since I had a cannoli." The boy said, jumping down from the bleachers. He extended a hand to her, and soon enough, they were on their way.

Time moves faster in heaven.

One month swept past him like waves on the shore, washing away the past. Nothing changed for the most part for Hoseok and Antonella. Sundays were still spent at the track, summers still scorched their little happy-go-lucky world, they still stumbled aimlessly through life on the other side -- not counting Antonella's visits back home.

Today's basketball game had drawn a large crowd. Though it was a team event, a number of the audience was comprised of Yoongi's fans, all cheering and all smiles. Hoseok fell somewhere in between.

It was odd for him, dealing with all the new noise around him. He never usually came to actual basketball games, just Yoongi's practices.

The game went by quickly. Yoongi scored two three pointers and a dunk, but by the time the buzzers went off, his team was still eight points behind. It was okay though. He still accepted defeat with a smile.

The black and white jersey slung over him loosely and swayed with every move he made. He moved like the wind. Yoongi was doing more in the last couple of days than he had in his final months alive. It was the ultimate feeling.

Hoseok didn't want to take that away from him.

The boy and the girl watched as the sun receded into the purpled clouds, and waited for everyone to slowly climb out of the bleachers. His legs crossed and mind racing, he finally realized what it was about Min Yoongi that was so alluring.

He reminded him of someone in his dreams.

Antonella reclined over two rows of bleachers, resting her weight on her elbows while Hoseok sat in his usual criss-crossed formation. There was a pretty silence between them, her with her hooded eyes and him with his nervous smile. Both set of eyes were locked on Yoongi, who was still on the court practicing despite his recent loss.

And while he watched, he let the words spill.

"I don't know what to say to him, An." Hoseok whispered, "How do you tell someone that you killed them?"

She smiled.

"You don't."

The bell tinkled. Antonella was gone.

Hoseok sighed, standing tall, "There she is, disappearing on me again."

His feet moved faster than his brain. The hoops were nearing, the track felt tough beneath the soles of his sneakers when he jumped down from the stands. Yoongi was right in front of him. The time was finally right.

Here goes.

"That-That was a good game out there." Hoseok stammered.

Yoongi turned to him just as the basketball sank into the net. His glare was unintentionally intense, and sank into every pore of Hoseok's being. Without a word in exchange, he felt the gravity of his attention, and remembered exactly why he preferred to watch the silvery boy from afar, in the grandstands where he belonged.

He tried not to think too much of his now ruined first impression and licked his lips nervously. Yoongi finally turned back to the ball and hoop, jumping up to catch the rebound and clutching the ball between slender fingers before replying tiredly,

"Thanks."

"Um, are you— Is your name," He said, "Is your name by any chance, Min Yoongi?"

Nice one, Hoseok.

"Yeah, it is." Yoongi answered, trying to sound modest.

These days, to be quite fair, everyone knew his name and face. It was rare to come across a soul who could not recognize him.

"Big fan. I come here on Sundays with my friend, Antonella, to watch you practice sometimes."

"That's you in the bleachers? I was wondering who was watching me all the time."

"Yeah," Hoseok's cheeks rushed with rose, "That's me."

Yoongi tilted his head, dribbling the ball twice.

"You look familiar, you know."

Shit.

"That's because I'm always here." Hoseok spoke, rolling his eyes jokingly. But really, his nerves were bouncing off the walls.

"No, no. Not like that." Yoongi shook his head, "What's your name?"

"Hoseok."

"Hoseok... " He hummed, slowly testing the name out, "I know you from..."

Yoongi stared observantly at every one of Hoseok's features. And he was a good-looking boy, but with the weight of a secret on his mind, he couldn't help but feel insecure. If Yoongi stared any longer, his façade would crumble to sand. Sweat was already beading around the band of his cap, but he didn't want it to show. So he cleared his throat.

"Neighbors." He said, smiling brightly.

"Huh?"

"We used to be neighbors last life." Hoseok elaborated, "Well not really. We just lived in the same building when we were alive."

"Neighbors... " Yoongi pondered, "But are you sure that's all? I rarely left my apartment when I breathed, I doubt I would have ever seen you as close as we may have lived."

"But when you finally did leave," He paused, watching as the breeze almost blew Yoongi's small frame away, "I saw you."

"And you remembered me?"

"Please don't let me go."

"I will hold on, forever."

"It's kinda hard to forget someone with silver hair," Hoseok laughed.

And Yoongi smirked.

"I guess it is."

Yoongi went back to dribbling, and Hoseok went back to being awkward. The silence made him uncomfortable and he stuck his hands in his pockets, wishing Antonella was here to help him through it. She always knew what needed to be said.

He didn't want the conversation to die there. He couldn't let the conversation die there. There was more that he had to say, but would he say it? Was he ready? Would he ever be?

Most importantly, would Yoongi be?

There was always another day.

"Plus, the neighbors always made a big deal out of it whenever you left your apartment. So your name was actually very common to hear in the lobby, at times." Hoseok kicked the smooth flooring, looking around at the court within the track.

He remembered his first time watching Yoongi, stumbling upon the sports field with his ukulele in hand and lost and new to the world.

He was jogging around the track by his lonesome, his then black hair bouncing and alive. The ash on his skin was still fresh and embers still burned through his shirt. Burn marks and blisters tatooed every inch of his body as they had Hoseok's, only to be washed away by the day's drizzle. There was a new vigor in his eye, a sad but angry vengeance that burned as he screamed and ran and wished for a second chance.

Hoseok knew the difference between his tears and the sky's.

Tears were warm. Rain was cold.

And though his past was washed away by the rainfall, his heart ached for Yoongi.

Because that was when he knew.

Everything was so different now. The smiles on their faces weren't crooked as they joked this time around, just boys being boys. The lush greenery on the outskirts of the court was alive and breathing with them.

And if this moment were a sound, it would be as pure and bright as the strum of Hoseok's fingers against his ukulele, like the way it was in his dream.

"Ah, you couldn't make that?! You're right under the hoop!" Yoongi teased, tossing the rebound back to the other, who only smirked and dribbled in reply.

"Shut up," Hoseok chuckled.

"Yoongi!"

Hearing the voice, the two boys turned over their shoulders. A group of five, not too far off at the edge of the track, stood waving him over. Hoseok felt a bit saddened as Yoongi turned back to him, ready to hear him say he had to go, and perhaps, never speak to him again. Except he didn't want to go back to just Sundays on the grandstands. He was enjoying actually talking to Yoongi. It was hard to keep his face from drooping into a frown.

As it turns out, he was waiting for nothing. Yoongi's face grew into a smirk.

"Hey, my friends and I—" He gestured over to the five waiting boys again, "We're going out to Ozzy's for waffles and pizza. D'ya think you wanna tag along?"

Yoongi wasn't really asking. He was moreso telling him, and dragging him along against his will.

"I mean, I feel like I'd be intruding. I wasn't even invited."

"What do you mean? You just were." Yoongi smiled.

"What if they don't like me?" Hoseok queried, struggling to keep up with Yoongi's fast pace. He wiggled his wrist out of Yoongi's grasp but soon enough, it was back again around his opposite arm.

"How old are you, Hoseok?"

"Twenty two."

"So why are you acting your shoe size instead of your age?" He deadpanned, "Don't ask any more dumb questions."

Just when Hoseok was about to protest, he heard Yoongi's voice ahead of him.

"Come on. Come eat."

So he sighed.

"Do they have pasta at Ozzy's? I really want some pasta."

"You haven't been to Ozzy's? What?!" Yoongi stopped, looking back with furrowed brows.

Hoseok merely shrugged, "I'll... take that as no pasta then."

"Jimin, Kiddo, Jin, this guy and his girl's never been to Ozzy's. Can you believe that?" Yoongi hollered to the group, which was now only footsteps away. They all spazzed equally.

"No fucking way," One with puffy cheeks and mismatched eyes commented in equal disbelief. Yoongi threw his hands up in exasperation as if to agree, still holding onto Hoseok's wrist. He grinned.

"You gotta try their ramen, man!" Another, slightly shorter, added. His eyes were widened as much as they could go, but it was obvious he had naturally almond eyes.

"Shut up, Jimin."

And then that last voice turned around, raven eyes, raven hair, pink lips and bright smile. Hoseok's heart fluttered while his eyes brimmed with tears. It felt like there was nothing left to worry about. It felt like someone finally understood.

He remembers.

"Hoseok?" Jungkook smirked, trying to keep his voice from cracking in front of the others.

His smile grew and he drew Hoseok into his arms, surprising himself, the boy, and everyone else. They were so excited, their hearts nearly started beating again. The others found it odd, feeling like they were missing a piece of the puzzle. And where there was once chatter, came only silence and the summer breeze through the grassblades.

"You guys know each other?" Jimin asked.

Even a voice so gentle broke through the silence like a rock through glass. Namjoon elbowed him for the words and insensitivity. Except Hoseok laughed in the end, and that was what made Jungkook squeeze him tight again.

"Y-Yeah,"

The older boy choked on his own happiness, shutting his eyes and finally understanding what it meant to feel like a leaf on the wind.

"We go way back."