Metanoia.

As midnight settled over Kuala Lumpur, Jisung and Minho made their way to the airport together. The city, which had been so vibrant and bustling earlier, was now quieter but still alive with the hum of late-night activity.

Their journey to the airport was filled with a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the experiences and confessions of the night.

At the airport, they navigated through check-in and security with practiced ease. Both were seasoned travelers, accustomed to the routine of airport procedures.

Yet, this time, there was a shared sense of anticipation and bittersweetness in the air, knowing they would soon part ways.

They boarded the plane together, chatting and laughing as they walked down the jet bridge. However, their seats were not together. Minho's seat was several rows behind Jisung's, and as they settled into their respective spots, they exchanged a final, reassuring smile.

Jisung put on his headphones, leaning back in his seat as the plane prepared for takeoff. The soothing notes of IU's "Love Poem" filled his ears, a soft Korean love song that brought a sense of calm over him.

The gentle melody and heartfelt lyrics lulled him into a peaceful sleep, his mind drifting back to the night's conversations and the unexpected connection he had formed with Minho.

Some time later, Jisung was gently shaken awake by the passenger beside him. "Excuse me, we're landing soon," the person said with a polite smile.

Jisung blinked awake, disoriented for a moment. He looked around, realizing the plane was indeed descending. He glanced back, hoping to catch a glimpse of Minho, but his seat was empty. A pang of disappointment hit him as he realized he hadn't even said a proper goodbye.

After disembarking the plane and going through customs, Jisung walked through the terminal, his eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Minho. He couldn't spot him anywhere. Just as he was starting to feel a wave of sadness, he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Jisung! Over here!"

He turned to see his friend Seungmin waving his hands aggressively, a wide grin on his face. Relief and joy washed over Jisung as he hurried over, embracing Seungmin in a tight hug.

"Seungmin, it's so good to see you!" Jisung exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

"It's great to see you too," Seungmin replied, patting his back. "How was your trip?"

"It was amazing," Jisung said, but his eyes kept darting around, searching for any sign of Minho.

Seungmin noticed his distracted look and frowned slightly. "Are you looking for someone?"

Jisung sighed, realizing he might not see Minho again. "I met someone on the trip. We got separated on the plane, and I can't seem to find him now."

"Well, let's get your luggage and head out. You should take a rest," Seungmin suggested, putting a comforting hand on Jisung's shoulder.

As they made their way to the baggage claim, Jisung's thoughts drifted back to Minho. He suddenly remembered that Minho had given him his phone number. He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. His heart sank when he saw it was a Malaysian number, not a Korean one.

"What's wrong?" Seungmin asked, noticing the change in Jisung's expression.

Jisung forced a smile, shaking his head. "Nothing, just tired."

They retrieved Jisung's luggage and exited the airport. It was early morning in Korea, the first light of dawn just beginning to peek over the horizon.

As they drove towards Jisung's home, the city's familiar sights passing by, he couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and melancholy. The memories of the trip, especially his time with Minho, lingered in his mind.

Back at home, after unpacking and showering, Jisung lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, centering on Minho and the strange yet undeniable connection he felt.

There was something about Minho that made his heart beat faster, a feeling that was both exhilarating and confusing.

Jisung found himself replaying their conversations, the way Minho's eyes lit up when he talked about his passions, and the warmth in his smile.

He remembered the gentle squeeze of Minho's hand, a simple gesture that had made him feel safe and understood. It was a connection that felt deeper than friendship, something that stirred emotions Jisung hadn't fully explored before.

But with these feelings came uncertainty. Was this what he thought it was? Could it be the beginnings of something more, or was he reading too much into it? Jisung knew he needed to get closer to Minho, to understand him better and to confirm if what he was feeling was real.

Determined not to let their connection fade, Jisung resolved to find a way to contact Minho again. For now, he needed rest. Closing his eyes, he let the exhaustion of the journey take over,  his dreams were filled with the memories of Kuala Lumpur, the laughter, the confessions, and the warmth of a something new that had touched his heart.

It was already evening when he woke up and the first thing he did was to check on his phone. He replied to the two people who messaged him; his boss Chan and his friend Seungmin. He felt a little disappointed when there was no message from Minho. He hovered over Minho's phone number, contemplating whether to call or not, but decided to do it later.

He stretched, and got out of bed to freshen up. Wearing a pair of comfortable clothes, he decided to buy some takeout since he was too lazy to cook something.

He decided on his favorite noodle place a few blocks away. It was a pleasant evening, and he figured a little walk would do him good. He was just about to leave when he remembered Minho's number. Should I call? he wondered, but decided against it for now. Later, he told himself.

He was halfway to the noodle place, scrolling through his phone to find the menu, when his stomach let out a loud rumble.

Jisung chuckled, rubbing his stomach. “Calm down, ma child. Calm down. I will give you a lot of food,” he muttered, patting his stomach like he was pregnant with a child.
He was so engrossed in his phone and his stomach's demands that he bumped into someone. Hard.

He looked up, startled, to see a frazzled-looking woman clutching a handful of groceries.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, her voice high-pitched. "I wasn't looking where I was going!"

"No, it's okay," Jisung replied, a bit flustered. He bent down to pick up his phone, which had tumbled to the sidewalk. He gave the woman a reassuring smile.

Just as his fingers brushed the screen, he heard a high-pitched "Whee!" and a blur of lime green flashed before his eyes. He looked down and saw a kid, no more than seven or eight, on a tiny lime-green bicycle, pedaling away with gusto.

"Onward, Pegasus!" the kid shouted, completely oblivious to the carnage he had just caused.

Jisung picked up his phone. It looked... normal. He blinked. He tapped the screen. Nothing. He tapped again. Still nothing. He flipped it over. The back was a mosaic of cracks. He turned it back to the front, and the screen was starting to bleed colors.

He stared at the phone, then at the retreating figure of the kid and his lime-green "Pegasus."

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Jisung muttered, his voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation. He looked at the woman he bumped into. She was covering her mouth, trying not to laugh.

"Seriously? A ninja kid on a kryptonite bike?" Jisung asked the heavens, then looked at the woman.

He shook his head, a wry smile forming on his lips. "Well, that's just fantastic," he said to the phone, "Thanks for nothing."

He shoved the phone in his pocket, a sigh escaping his lips. "At least I still have my appetite," he muttered, turning towards the noodle place.

He was now phoneless, Minho-less, and very, very hungry. And he had a strong urge to yell at the sky.