[fic] Happiness, ltd.
May. 20th, 2011 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sessho08Title: Happiness, ltd.
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing: none (unless you squint really hard), Yunho-centric
Rating: G
Words: 2125(my personal record up to date)
A/N: Inspired by June and Rebecca's convo on tumblr. AU, a bit experimental, I guess. I'm not quite sure myself what it is? Enjoy and tell me what you think!
When Yunho gets a job in one of several selling happiness shops in the country, he’s delighted. He’s fresh out of college (which he’s graduated with honours) and he’s already been sought after by some influential facilities. (‘We believe you’ve got potential,’ they say. ‘We believe we could make you into something more.’)
He refuses all the offers (his father doesn’t approve in the least - and saying that is a major understatement anyway) surprising all of his friends and his whole family but he doesn’t regret. Developing his skills even further while tempting isn’t what Yunho wants to do in life. He strives for something more, for something that could actually put his whole person into use.
There are many talented people in the world, in the country. Surely, there’s someone who will be more than happy to take up all those proposals he got and Yunho’s certain that they will fare better than he would. (People with passion for what they do tend to be like that. His own lies in a different place.)
When he decides to go for Happiness, ltd. everyone tells him to give it a miss. (‘Even if it’s you, you won’t get in. It’s Happiness, don’t you get it?’)
He’s not discouraged and to everyone’s (and, if he were to be honest with himself, he would his admit that his own as well) amazement, they get back to him really soon after he sent his resume.
He’s shown the ropes, he’s trained, he signs every document that needs his name on it. He becomes a part of something big. He truly can’t wish for more.
In the morning, on the first day of the job Yunho’s elated and hopeful. He adapts quickly, smiling good-naturedly at the Shop’s patrons and while his ever-present smile dims minutely when he politely sends off the ones that can’t afford the commodity that he’s (it still doesn’t seem quite real – that he is) selling, it never falters too much.
Under watchful gaze of his direct superior that’s been assigned to guide him, everything goes smoothly.
At the end of the day Yunho gets praised and when he falls heavily onto his bed that evening, he’s utterly exhausted but no less thrilled than hours ago. In fact, his excitement is even greater because finally he’s on his way to actually be of help to people, he can finally bring someone a bit of true happiness.
He stays under his superior’s vigilant observance for next several days before it’s finally concluded that he’s ready to start working all by himself. (The Shop places significant emphasis on mutual trust and Yunho’s more than willing to show that he deserves it.)
It’s fine for a while. Yunho smiles, people make their purchases (or not), they smile and life goes on rather peacefully. (Yunho’s father’s slowly beginning to warm up to him again, too.) Every night Yunho lies to sleep feeling a bit tired, a bit accomplished; like he’s finally started filling this void that ate at him from the inside for a long time – urging him to finally do something.
When he drifts off to the elusive land of dreams, he still sees that particular unique glint that appears in the eyes of the Shop’s clients when they buy what they wished for so much. It’s imprinted on the back of his eyelids.
He’s lulled into false security, caught up in fulfilling other people’s dreams (fulfilling his own dreams) and that’s when it happens.
(When it happens for the first time.)
It’s a woman. She’s not really different than most of the Shop’s patrons. She’s average-looking but with her hair neatly framing a nice face that makes you think that maybe you could trust her, tidily dressed. She doesn’t give off a vibe of someone unreasonable. She doesn’t look crazy.
When he tells her his usual courteous ‘I am sorry, Madame, but you don’t have enough financial resources to make your purchase,’ he doesn’t expect her to drop to her knees, to claw at his uniform (his pride), to start shaking and crying uncontrollably - her face altered almost to the point of becoming unrecognisable with tears, and screams, and something less tangible.
For a moment he’s frozen, not knowing what to do. Yes, he’s been warned and he’s been taught but actually experiencing something like this can’t be compared with whatever words of wisdom he’s been fed with.
‘Just a little bit!,’ she cries out, the volume of her voice so loud that his ears almost hurt.
‘So I can forget about him, about my little precious boy. It hurts too much, I beg of you! Please--please’
Suddenly, strong, impersonal hands free his clothes from her desperate grasp and she’s led away. A few more screams and then her shoulders finally slump in defeat.
The queue proceeds as if nothing happened, as if no one noticed anything out of ordinary. Yunho knows he should be blind to it as well (‘Remember, you reaction encourages them to try again. It encourages others to exploit your weakness. Don’t ever show it and you will be fine’.) For some reason he can’t do this. He puts on a brave front but he can’t stop his hands from wavering minutely when he rings up a bill.
Yunho’s not fine.
It doesn’t happen often but it doesn’t cease either.
He learns how to read the signs that accompany such occurrences, that forebode them. He doesn’t learn how to prevent them. Each next time leaves him more shaken and even though now Yunho manages to school his features into a mask of calm, it doesn’t do anything to the turmoil that’s taking reign of his heart and mind more and more frequently.
He finds himself struggling. He’s aware that happiness is a very luxurious commodity and as such it has its price. It’s incorrect to try and give it to anyone that doesn’t have enough money. More, it’s rude - disregarding some people’s hard work and dedication that made it possible for them to purchase this highest of goods.
And yet, a day comes when Yunho just can’t go on like this anymore. That’s not what he signed himself up for and while he’s aware that it’s beyond a single human’s grasp to make everyone happy, and that it’s naïve to even think of it, he wouldn’t be himself if he just came to terms with it without a fight. (Maybe he can’t help everyone. He can start from people that he has in front of him.)
With a dread of being found, of failing, sending droplets of sweat down his spine, he finds himself weighing out more than he should, selling for lesser amounts of money than the precious commodity’s worth, sometimes even going as far as giving away little bits here and there (when he thinks no one’s looking).
The Shop trusts him (after all, he’s one of the few carefully selected men, he’s tried and there’s no reason for distrust) but it doesn’t change the fact that at the end of the week, the balance sheet must be accurate. There’s no room for inconsistencies and maybe they’ll believe in a man’s error but it won’t work more than once or twice and he doesn’t even attempt it. What he’s already doing is dangerous enough as it is and Yunho doesn’t want to risk too much.
It’s up to him not to let anyone notice that anything’s amiss.
He finds a part-time job (and then another one).
His time for resting is reduced to almost nothing and he hasn’t seen his friends or family for what seems like ages but at least he can fall asleep peacefully again. His dreams cease being nightmares and he’s not lying to himself anymore. He’s more than exhilarated to pay the price that comes with it.
He starts breathing again.
The first person that Yunho breaks the rules for is a boy around his age.
He appears at the Shop for several consecutive days – he always comes early and stays all the way up until the closing hours.
Yunho notices him first because it’s his job to notice and then, because of the way the boy’s bleached hair frames his exquisite face, the way he’s a bit too thin for his clothes, a bit too sharp around the edges.
Yunho notices him because he doesn’t belong in there.
When he finally approaches the cash register, it’s enough for Yunho to only glance at what the boy’s holding and know that it’s not enough but for some reason (that he himself doesn’t quite understand) he doesn’t turn him down.
Instead, his fingers quietly – gently – rap on the keyboard, and he prays to whatever deity that’s listening to let this work. He’s handing in the commodity to the boy when the other tells him softly, accusingly.
‘I don’t need your pity.’
Yunho catches himself before he starts staring but in the very moment he knows that he’s doing the right thing.
‘It’s not pity,’ he answers, a more natural (less bright) smile blooming on his face. The other’s gaze travels up and down, searching his features for a moment (forever) before he nods curtly.
‘Thanks,’ so soft that Yunho’s not sure if he didn’t imagine it, and then,
‘I won’t forget it,’ said with firming conviction, with quiet but steady force.
He turns around and then he’s gone. He never shows up again but Yunho doesn’t (can’t) forget him anyway.
There are many people after him and Yunho remembers each and one of them. (He couldn’t forget even if he tried. He doesn’t.) But even then there are people who leave so much deeper imprints in his mind.
There’s a petite girl around his age, the way she stands belying token fragility of her sex, pride and something more hidden in the flip of her hair.
There’s a tall, gangly boy with wide lips, sharp words, disbelieving gaze and a smile so bright that Yunho’s lost as to where to look at.
And another – his voice somewhat hoarse but pleasant to ears, his hand warm when it lingers a bit too long and, ‘I’ve got a dream, you know?’
And yet one more – expressive eyes, long slender digits (Yunho recalls musing that they must be what people call ‘a pianist’s fingers’) and ill-suited clothes so unlike the proper attire that he himself always wears to work.
They all matter. Yunho’s not sure as to ‘how’s’ and ‘why’s’ but they do.
And then it all comes to a screeching halt.
There’s a sudden visitation and when the tall, impeccably dressed man opens the cash register with a deafening ring, Yunho knows it’s his last moments in the Shop. He’s not sure if he feels more devastated or relieved but the reality makes the choice for him.
He’s captivated by the same strong hands that led away the women that was the beginning of it all. Only this time they’re even more forceful (or are they?), their grip all the tighter with his treachery.
He’s locked down and reprimanded.
‘You have let us down, Yunho,’ (Always Yunho, never Mr. Jung. ‘You’re a part of our family now,’ they said).
‘Haven’t we been good for you? And yet, this is how you repay for all that we gave to you. And yet, you have betrayed our trust in spite of it?’
He’s questioned.
‘When has all of this started? What prompted it? How many times? To whom?’
Yunho doesn’t answer.
They leave him alone for a while after that. The treatment he gets is not that of a family member. (He’s strangely glad because of that.)
They’re back with more inquiries. Again. And again.
Yunho loses count.
(He wonders, his heart heavy with guilt how much his parents have had to pay for all that happiness that he’s ever felt in his life. The thought wrenches his intestines with regret and the overflowing sadness makes his throat choke up.)
‘It’s unfair,’ he wants to tell them. ‘What you do is wrong, what I did was wrong. They deserved it as much as the others. You shouldn’t’ have to pay for a right to happiness. It shouldn’t be reduced to simple commodity. What I’ve done… I don’t regret it. It wasn’t a mistake, it wasn’t!’
He stays silent. They wouldn’t understand.
(He’s afraid that if he starts talking, he might say too much. The memory of dozens of faces that trusted him, the memory of five young people that in particular made him believe that it’s worth it, strengthens his resolve, helps him keep his mouth shut.)
A month later a letter comes to Yunho’s father. It’s long and full of intricacies. It says that Yunho’s never coming back.
Comments and criticism as always more than appreciated. Especially on this particular piece.
Also, if anyone has a better suggestion for a title, then I'm all ears
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing: none (unless you squint really hard), Yunho-centric
Rating: G
Words: 2125
A/N: Inspired by June and Rebecca's convo on tumblr. AU, a bit experimental, I guess. I'm not quite sure myself what it is? Enjoy and tell me what you think!
When Yunho gets a job in one of several selling happiness shops in the country, he’s delighted. He’s fresh out of college (which he’s graduated with honours) and he’s already been sought after by some influential facilities. (‘We believe you’ve got potential,’ they say. ‘We believe we could make you into something more.’)
He refuses all the offers (his father doesn’t approve in the least - and saying that is a major understatement anyway) surprising all of his friends and his whole family but he doesn’t regret. Developing his skills even further while tempting isn’t what Yunho wants to do in life. He strives for something more, for something that could actually put his whole person into use.
There are many talented people in the world, in the country. Surely, there’s someone who will be more than happy to take up all those proposals he got and Yunho’s certain that they will fare better than he would. (People with passion for what they do tend to be like that. His own lies in a different place.)
When he decides to go for Happiness, ltd. everyone tells him to give it a miss. (‘Even if it’s you, you won’t get in. It’s Happiness, don’t you get it?’)
He’s not discouraged and to everyone’s (and, if he were to be honest with himself, he would his admit that his own as well) amazement, they get back to him really soon after he sent his resume.
He’s shown the ropes, he’s trained, he signs every document that needs his name on it. He becomes a part of something big. He truly can’t wish for more.
In the morning, on the first day of the job Yunho’s elated and hopeful. He adapts quickly, smiling good-naturedly at the Shop’s patrons and while his ever-present smile dims minutely when he politely sends off the ones that can’t afford the commodity that he’s (it still doesn’t seem quite real – that he is) selling, it never falters too much.
Under watchful gaze of his direct superior that’s been assigned to guide him, everything goes smoothly.
At the end of the day Yunho gets praised and when he falls heavily onto his bed that evening, he’s utterly exhausted but no less thrilled than hours ago. In fact, his excitement is even greater because finally he’s on his way to actually be of help to people, he can finally bring someone a bit of true happiness.
He stays under his superior’s vigilant observance for next several days before it’s finally concluded that he’s ready to start working all by himself. (The Shop places significant emphasis on mutual trust and Yunho’s more than willing to show that he deserves it.)
It’s fine for a while. Yunho smiles, people make their purchases (or not), they smile and life goes on rather peacefully. (Yunho’s father’s slowly beginning to warm up to him again, too.) Every night Yunho lies to sleep feeling a bit tired, a bit accomplished; like he’s finally started filling this void that ate at him from the inside for a long time – urging him to finally do something.
When he drifts off to the elusive land of dreams, he still sees that particular unique glint that appears in the eyes of the Shop’s clients when they buy what they wished for so much. It’s imprinted on the back of his eyelids.
He’s lulled into false security, caught up in fulfilling other people’s dreams (fulfilling his own dreams) and that’s when it happens.
(When it happens for the first time.)
It’s a woman. She’s not really different than most of the Shop’s patrons. She’s average-looking but with her hair neatly framing a nice face that makes you think that maybe you could trust her, tidily dressed. She doesn’t give off a vibe of someone unreasonable. She doesn’t look crazy.
When he tells her his usual courteous ‘I am sorry, Madame, but you don’t have enough financial resources to make your purchase,’ he doesn’t expect her to drop to her knees, to claw at his uniform (his pride), to start shaking and crying uncontrollably - her face altered almost to the point of becoming unrecognisable with tears, and screams, and something less tangible.
For a moment he’s frozen, not knowing what to do. Yes, he’s been warned and he’s been taught but actually experiencing something like this can’t be compared with whatever words of wisdom he’s been fed with.
‘Just a little bit!,’ she cries out, the volume of her voice so loud that his ears almost hurt.
‘So I can forget about him, about my little precious boy. It hurts too much, I beg of you! Please--please’
Suddenly, strong, impersonal hands free his clothes from her desperate grasp and she’s led away. A few more screams and then her shoulders finally slump in defeat.
The queue proceeds as if nothing happened, as if no one noticed anything out of ordinary. Yunho knows he should be blind to it as well (‘Remember, you reaction encourages them to try again. It encourages others to exploit your weakness. Don’t ever show it and you will be fine’.) For some reason he can’t do this. He puts on a brave front but he can’t stop his hands from wavering minutely when he rings up a bill.
Yunho’s not fine.
It doesn’t happen often but it doesn’t cease either.
He learns how to read the signs that accompany such occurrences, that forebode them. He doesn’t learn how to prevent them. Each next time leaves him more shaken and even though now Yunho manages to school his features into a mask of calm, it doesn’t do anything to the turmoil that’s taking reign of his heart and mind more and more frequently.
He finds himself struggling. He’s aware that happiness is a very luxurious commodity and as such it has its price. It’s incorrect to try and give it to anyone that doesn’t have enough money. More, it’s rude - disregarding some people’s hard work and dedication that made it possible for them to purchase this highest of goods.
And yet, a day comes when Yunho just can’t go on like this anymore. That’s not what he signed himself up for and while he’s aware that it’s beyond a single human’s grasp to make everyone happy, and that it’s naïve to even think of it, he wouldn’t be himself if he just came to terms with it without a fight. (Maybe he can’t help everyone. He can start from people that he has in front of him.)
With a dread of being found, of failing, sending droplets of sweat down his spine, he finds himself weighing out more than he should, selling for lesser amounts of money than the precious commodity’s worth, sometimes even going as far as giving away little bits here and there (when he thinks no one’s looking).
The Shop trusts him (after all, he’s one of the few carefully selected men, he’s tried and there’s no reason for distrust) but it doesn’t change the fact that at the end of the week, the balance sheet must be accurate. There’s no room for inconsistencies and maybe they’ll believe in a man’s error but it won’t work more than once or twice and he doesn’t even attempt it. What he’s already doing is dangerous enough as it is and Yunho doesn’t want to risk too much.
It’s up to him not to let anyone notice that anything’s amiss.
He finds a part-time job (and then another one).
His time for resting is reduced to almost nothing and he hasn’t seen his friends or family for what seems like ages but at least he can fall asleep peacefully again. His dreams cease being nightmares and he’s not lying to himself anymore. He’s more than exhilarated to pay the price that comes with it.
He starts breathing again.
The first person that Yunho breaks the rules for is a boy around his age.
He appears at the Shop for several consecutive days – he always comes early and stays all the way up until the closing hours.
Yunho notices him first because it’s his job to notice and then, because of the way the boy’s bleached hair frames his exquisite face, the way he’s a bit too thin for his clothes, a bit too sharp around the edges.
Yunho notices him because he doesn’t belong in there.
When he finally approaches the cash register, it’s enough for Yunho to only glance at what the boy’s holding and know that it’s not enough but for some reason (that he himself doesn’t quite understand) he doesn’t turn him down.
Instead, his fingers quietly – gently – rap on the keyboard, and he prays to whatever deity that’s listening to let this work. He’s handing in the commodity to the boy when the other tells him softly, accusingly.
‘I don’t need your pity.’
Yunho catches himself before he starts staring but in the very moment he knows that he’s doing the right thing.
‘It’s not pity,’ he answers, a more natural (less bright) smile blooming on his face. The other’s gaze travels up and down, searching his features for a moment (forever) before he nods curtly.
‘Thanks,’ so soft that Yunho’s not sure if he didn’t imagine it, and then,
‘I won’t forget it,’ said with firming conviction, with quiet but steady force.
He turns around and then he’s gone. He never shows up again but Yunho doesn’t (can’t) forget him anyway.
There are many people after him and Yunho remembers each and one of them. (He couldn’t forget even if he tried. He doesn’t.) But even then there are people who leave so much deeper imprints in his mind.
There’s a petite girl around his age, the way she stands belying token fragility of her sex, pride and something more hidden in the flip of her hair.
There’s a tall, gangly boy with wide lips, sharp words, disbelieving gaze and a smile so bright that Yunho’s lost as to where to look at.
And another – his voice somewhat hoarse but pleasant to ears, his hand warm when it lingers a bit too long and, ‘I’ve got a dream, you know?’
And yet one more – expressive eyes, long slender digits (Yunho recalls musing that they must be what people call ‘a pianist’s fingers’) and ill-suited clothes so unlike the proper attire that he himself always wears to work.
They all matter. Yunho’s not sure as to ‘how’s’ and ‘why’s’ but they do.
And then it all comes to a screeching halt.
There’s a sudden visitation and when the tall, impeccably dressed man opens the cash register with a deafening ring, Yunho knows it’s his last moments in the Shop. He’s not sure if he feels more devastated or relieved but the reality makes the choice for him.
He’s captivated by the same strong hands that led away the women that was the beginning of it all. Only this time they’re even more forceful (or are they?), their grip all the tighter with his treachery.
He’s locked down and reprimanded.
‘You have let us down, Yunho,’ (Always Yunho, never Mr. Jung. ‘You’re a part of our family now,’ they said).
‘Haven’t we been good for you? And yet, this is how you repay for all that we gave to you. And yet, you have betrayed our trust in spite of it?’
He’s questioned.
‘When has all of this started? What prompted it? How many times? To whom?’
Yunho doesn’t answer.
They leave him alone for a while after that. The treatment he gets is not that of a family member. (He’s strangely glad because of that.)
They’re back with more inquiries. Again. And again.
Yunho loses count.
(He wonders, his heart heavy with guilt how much his parents have had to pay for all that happiness that he’s ever felt in his life. The thought wrenches his intestines with regret and the overflowing sadness makes his throat choke up.)
‘It’s unfair,’ he wants to tell them. ‘What you do is wrong, what I did was wrong. They deserved it as much as the others. You shouldn’t’ have to pay for a right to happiness. It shouldn’t be reduced to simple commodity. What I’ve done… I don’t regret it. It wasn’t a mistake, it wasn’t!’
He stays silent. They wouldn’t understand.
(He’s afraid that if he starts talking, he might say too much. The memory of dozens of faces that trusted him, the memory of five young people that in particular made him believe that it’s worth it, strengthens his resolve, helps him keep his mouth shut.)
A month later a letter comes to Yunho’s father. It’s long and full of intricacies. It says that Yunho’s never coming back.
Comments and criticism as always more than appreciated. Especially on this particular piece.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 05:42 pm (UTC)"And yet, a day comes when Yunho just can’t go on like this anymore. That’s not what he signed himself up for and while he’s aware that it’s beyond a single human’s grasp to make everyone happy, and that it’s naïve to even think of it, he wouldn’t be himself if he just came to terms with it without a fight. (Maybe he can’t help everyone. He can start from people that he has in front of him.)"
BECAUSE HI THAT IS YUNHO RIGHT THERE.
i love this narrative of his understanding of the world, of its systems of exclusion - you picked a deceptively simple but very smart device in 'happiness' - and i can believe the strength of his final decision (because, again, yunho.)
loved the cameos and OF COURSE IT HAD TO BE JAEJOONG HAVING THAT CRUCIAL CONVERSATION WITH HIM.
in conclusion i must try to subtly push you into writing more of this sort of thing.
no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 07:02 pm (UTC)I don't feel too comfortable with writing anything that resembles plot (even as vaguely and questionably as here) so it really means a lot.
When the idea first came to me, I've wanted it to be a magical AU but then when I actually got around to writing, it started getting more allegorical. (I don't think I could answer whether it's sci-fi, magic or something else entirely if someone asked now. XD)
Tbh, when I write fic, it's more instinctual than anything. I don't think it could work if I actually really thought about what and how I'm writing and made conscious decisions about the narrative etc. (And that's probably why I'm uncapable of writing stuff with actual action and plot.) But I'm glad that you liked those aspects.
AND YES, IT HAD TO BE JAEJOONG.
Lol, I can't help but let my mind sing it in the tune of Yesung's 'It has to be you'When I thought about including all of DBSK in this, I didn't hesitate about this at all. It just felt natural.Continue being as awesome and inspiring then maybe it could be arranged? XD
I don't really get inspiration (that actually leads to anything) too often so it's always nice when I manage to write anything.
(Though now I'd really like to pass on inspiration because of the amount of stuff that needs to be learned for my upcoming tests. XD)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 08:03 pm (UTC)T.T
no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 09:13 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I'm glad you liked it. :)
no subject
Date: 2011-05-20 09:29 pm (UTC)fighting2!
no subject
Date: 2012-03-29 03:25 am (UTC)(He wonders, his heart heavy with guilt how much his parents have had to pay for all that happiness that he’s ever felt in his life. The thought wrenches his intestines with regret and the overflowing sadness makes his throat choke up.)
that shit is life right there, sorry for the swearing but oh god, happiness shouldn't be based on money and asdafdsfadsf
loved this so freaking much, I can't even , adsfads <3
no subject
Date: 2012-04-06 02:40 pm (UTC)Thank you for the lovely comment ♥
no subject
Date: 2013-06-26 04:15 am (UTC)(hello yes I'm going through your fics just like I said I would)Oh my. This was a great idea. It really makes me think about the notion of "happiness". I mean, it's technically just chemicals in the brain right? Except, it's so much more than that... If it could be sold, it would really be the most valuable commodity in the world- I'd like to think that maybe love would be a competitor, but to be honest, people are pretty selfish. Happiness is a more selfish thing than love, because your own happiness is really just for yourself. Love, on the other hand, would (hopefully) usually be shared.
(omg would you write a companion piece to this except it's love that's being sold? I can see it being either really dark or really
Hominfluffy ... Of course, this is just me thinking out loud, so you definitely shouldn't feel pressured or anything! Especially because this was from such a long time ago.)Yunho is the perfect person for this fic. He is loyal and mature enough to understand that happiness has a price, but also soft-hearted and kind enough to believe that everyone deserves happiness. Ah, Yunho.
And your title for this is actually perfect! It's what made me interested in this fic in the first place, and I like how it's ltd instead of inc, because that is so accurate for a shop selling happiness.
no subject
Date: 2013-06-26 08:14 am (UTC)Why hello there *^* You're not going to see me complain, I assure you....All these old things tho 8DDD"
Except how would love work as a commodity? I mean happiness can be applied to just one person but like you pointed out yourself love needs to be shared. But shared here could turn into "forced onto" pretty easily? Unless it wouldn't supposed to be used with a specific person on mind... But possibly it's still more tricky than happiness. I bet there would be a thousand rules and them some more where love was concerned.
But it's a neat idea *^* And some great food for thought. And while I probably won't write a companion piece - like you said it has been a while, actually I have quite a few some fics that while don't quite deal with the theme you want, they kind of explore hmm removal/lack of emotions etc.? (Friend helped me discover last year that this seems to be a recurring motif for me ahahaha.)
And I was really glad back then to write something Yunho-centric. There's far too few pieces written from Yunho's POV :<
I'm pretty sure I checked the exact meaning/full version of both Ltd. and Inc. when choosing the title because I wanted the implications that Ltd. has~ But it sounded so... idk, like an easy way out so to speak? Probably. It has been 2 years 8D But it's great to hear it actually fulfilled the most important role that title has 8D At last! (9*^*)9
Thank you for this wonderful comment ♥ This particular piece holds a special place in my pseudo-writerly heart and it's always a huge surprise and joy to get someone tell me them thoughts on it ;;