Work Text:
Even though you are being alone, remember we are on your side and don't be afraid of all the fears you have.
He went running every day through the quiet suburban neighborhood, where every house looked the same and there was nothing to distinguish one block from another.
Sometimes, he forgot why he ran. He had certainly never been one for abundant exercise. More often than not, he suspected that he was running from something or someone in particular, but what it was he didn’t know.
He just relied on his legs, and ran.
But no matter how hard he tried, he always ended up in the same spot. Another nameless street, exactly the same as all the others. And every time he pulled out the stopwatch from his jacket’s pocket, the result was always the same: 37:33.
He stared at the digital numbers now, feeling sweat drip off his chin.
Such an interesting set of numbers. According to myth, it was a holy number when an angel was trying to communicate with a human. According to maps, it was the latitude for Seoul.
His days felt like he was stuck in a time loop. No matter how far he ran, he always ended up in the same place with the same time.
37:33.
He wanted to fall to his knees and cry. The universe wasn’t playing fair.
He ran faster, harder, burned more air from his lungs. The outcome never changed.
Hunched over on the asphalt on a sunny morning, DK wanted to laugh at the irony of situations.
---
In another time, there was another boy who used to accompany him on his morning jogs. DK could recall one fond memory - he had arrived to their agreed meeting spot, dressed reasonably in a track jacket and shorts, white sneakers laced and ready to go. The other boy was already in the middle of the street waiting for him, wearing white pressed slacks and a donut printed shirt, swinging his stopwatch from hand to hand by its black cord.
“Why are you dressed like that for running?”
A grin. “Oh, we’re not going to run,” the angelic voice sing-songed. The sunlight illuminated his hair, giving him a fuzzy halo.
DK can no longer remember the details of the other boy’s face, only that on top of his head he had a shock of white-blond fringe where his golden strands used to be.