Archive of Our Own ^beta

The garden of Anakt was a rare respite from the harsh reality of the outside world. Time seemed to slow down within its walls, offering a quiet shelter for the contestants of Alien Stage. In those moments between classes and unpleasant encounters with aliens, when the pressure momentarily lifted, the garden was where Eunyung and Haejoon found themselves over and over again, though not always peacefully.

Eunyung leaned against a stone pillar, arms crossed as he looked out over the neatly trimmed hedges and vibrant flowerbeds. The beauty of the garden had little effect on him; the only reason he stayed there was because of Haejoon, who sat beside him, seemingly lost in thought.

“I don’t get why you come here every day,” Eunyung muttered. He took one of the flowers, stripping it away from its petals. “It’s just a bunch of plants. Nothing’s changed since yesterday.”

Haejoon shot him an irritated look. “Just because you don’t see the point doesn’t mean it’s pointless, Eunyung. Maybe if you took a fucking second to appreciate it, you’d see that not everything has to be some grand plan. Sometimes, things just are.”

Eunyung scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Cut it off, old man. You sound like one of those motivational posters. ‘Stop and smell the roses.’” He shoved his hands in his pockets, feigning disinterest.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to sound like a motivational poster if you stopped acting like the world’s out to get you every second of the day,” Haejoon shot back, his tone with a sharp edge that was hard to miss.

This was how they always were; constantly at odds, clashing over everything from trivial things like the garden to deeper issues that neither dared to speak aloud. But despite all the bickering, they’d always come back to this same spot, almost as if they couldn’t help but be around each other.

In truth, they were both hiding wounds, scars left from a world that hadn’t been kind to either of them. And though they’d never admit it, those clashes were as much a way of connecting as they were a means of pushing each other away.

For Haejoon, Eunyung was an anchor. In the aftermath of his mother’s death and the alien’s abduction, he’d been drifting, unable to find solid ground. He’d spent countless nights haunted by guilt and anger, wondering if he’d ever find a way to let go of the pain. Eunyung, abrasive and unfiltered, had shattered his carefully built walls. Eunyung had challenged him, mocked his attempts to hide, and forced him to confront the feelings he’d buried so deeply.

“You’re always pretending, you know that?” Eunyung had once said, with that typical bluntness that cut like a knife. “You act like you’ve got it all together, but I can see right through you. You’re just a scared little bitch.”

Those words had hurt, but they’d been true. Slowly, Eunyung’s presence (his willingness to face the world with all its ugliness) had taught Haejoon to be honest with himself, to accept his grief and move forward. For the first time, Haejoon had learned to face his reflection without shame, without the weight of expectations dragging him down.

In return, Haejoon became a steady presence for Eunyung. Though Eunyung would never say it, Haejoon knew he was Eunyung’s only safe place, the one person who accepted him for who he was. This small hidden somewhere in the garden of Anakt had become their shared sanctuary, a place where Eunyung could let down his guard, even if only for a moment.

When Eunyung seemed tense or angry at the world, Haejoon would be there with a silent presence. Haejoon had become the one person Eunyung didn’t have to fight to protect himself from. Eunyung might complain, grumble, even push Haejoon’s buttons, but in the end, he’d stay, lingering in the garden’s quiet, taking comfort in Haejoon’s companionship.

But tonight, all of that seemed to vanish into the shadows of the Alien Stage.

As the music pulsed through the speakers and the lights flashed around them, Eunyung felt the weight of their past collide with the reality of the present. He wasn’t just facing a rival; he was facing the one person who had ever truly known him, the one who had given him a place to feel safe in a world that was anything but.

As their voices harmonized and clashed, the memories of their time together surged within Eunyung. The arguments, the friendliness, the unspoken words they’d never admit to each other. Each step, each movement, was like a fragment of their story, coming together in one last, desperate battle.

At the peak of the performance, Haejoon’s voice faltered, just for a moment. He caught Eunyung’s gaze, a sad smile pulling at his lips. But it wasn’t Eunyung he was seeing.

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, the bright lights and noise of the show faded, and in its place, he saw her. His mother, standing quietly beyond the stage, her face soft and patient as she waited for him. She looked just as he remembered, with her warm eyes and gentle smile, a presence that had once been his entire world. And now, here she was again, waiting to guide him home.

He felt his heart calm as he looked at her, as if he were a child again, lost but found in her gaze. He had been waiting for this moment since her death, longing to be with her, to find the peace that had slipped from his life after she’d gone.

All this time, he had tried to carry her memory, to live with her lessons, but now he realized he didn’t need to bear the burden alone.

It was time to let go.

But just as he was ready to follow her image into the light, he heard it: Eunyung’s voice, cutting through the stillness like a lifeline. He was calling to him, fighting against the rising music, fierce and insistent. It was a sound filled with anger, desperation, and something else, something that pulled Haejoon back to reality, a reminder of the bond they’d shared, the fierce, unsaid connection they had built in the hidden corners of this apocalyptic life.

The concept struck him unexpectedly. He couldn't give up on Eunyung, the one person who had learnt to see him, even at his worst moments. His mother's figure remained, waiting, but he felt torn. Is it possible to live again, with someone who understands him like she did?

He could imagine it, introducing Eunyung to her, maybe even in a life beyond the aliens and the reality show. Haejoon could see Eunyung glancing at his mother with that familiar, sharp-eyed gaze and saying something like, “You two have the same eyes, you know that?” He would laugh at Eunyung’s bluntness, knowing his mother would too.

And so, with a fierce resolve, he stood his ground.

He wasn’t ready to leave.

Eunyung had become his reason to stay, his reason to fight. If he was going to find peace, he would do it alive, alongside Eunyung, not in the afterlife.

Just as the music swelled to a desperate climax and the alien guards began to close in, the air shattered with the crack of gunfire.

Haejoon and Eunyung turned just in time to see their missing friends who run away a long time ago, charging onto the stage, their faces fierce, guns drawn as they shot at the guards in a bold, defiant stand. The crowd gasped in shock as Hara, quick as lightning, shot at the aliens that lunged toward Haejoon and Eunyung, forcing them back.

“Move it!” Hara shouted, her voice sharp with adrenaline. “We’re getting out of here—now!”

Juwan nodded, his face set in fierce determination, while Marie protected them from behind, striking down any guards who attempted to follow. Eunyung barely had time to respond as Haejoon grabbed his arm and dragged him to his feet as they rushed toward the edge of the stage, where the others had made a path.

Haejoon's pulse was pounding in his chest as they ran, their footsteps booming over. They were so close; the taste of freedom was practically within reach. He could feel Eunyung’s grip steady in his, a promise to keep going, together.

They stumbled down the steps, dodging the last of the alien guards as Minju, who was now with them, cleared the way with a relentless, unyielding fury. As they reached the exit, Haejoon cast one last look over his shoulder, his heart heavy with a strange, bittersweet relief.

He would carry his mother’s memory with him, but now he knew. He was ready to live, here and now, alongside the people who had become his family.

Together, they burst out into the open, leaving the stage behind, their breaths mingling in the cold night air as they stood in stunned silence, free at last.

Eunyung, catching his breath, glanced at Haejoon with that familiar smirk. “Guess you’re stuck with me a little longer, huh?”

Haejoon chuckled for the first time in forever, the adrenaline of their escape still pounding in his veins. “Yeah, I figured.”

They exchanged a warm look, unsaid but understood. For all the times they’d clashed, for all the ways they got on each other’s nerves, there was no one else he would’ve fought his way out of there with

Minju, hands on her hips, gave them a dry look. “Alright, heroes, let’s keep moving before any more aliens show up.”

As they hurried away, Haejoon let his thoughts linger on the memory of his mother. She had waited for him, and maybe one day he’d see her again. But for now, he had people here, people worth living for.