mika

Banda was intrigued when he noticed you began ignoring him. It didn’t take a genius to understand it had to do with the game you were both participating in, especially considering it was a Hearts one.

But his curiosity and amusement turned into annoyance after six hours. Turns out Banda Sunato is not half as patient as he himself believed.

You walk right past him at least fifteen times. He tries telling you what the symbol on your collar is during each of the six rounds. He debates on distracting himself with something, like following that suspicious guy around and gaining his trust a bit more, and he does.

He does for three rounds more before he feels angry because seeing you walk around so nonchalantly without doing so much as looking at him makes him lose track of his thoughts.

Especially when he sees someone else touch your neck as they look at the symbol on your collar. He’s certain that’s the last straw, for him.

So he lasts nine hours without your attention.

“Hey.” he says quietly, coming up right behind you. You jolt a little and turn to look at him. There’s a mere second where your expression looks somewhere between startled and content and he’s sure you’re finally done giving him the silent treatment. But that look barely lasts long enough for him to feel any actual hope. Soon enough, you’re back to this neutral, stone facade of yours as you turn your back to him and walk away.

Nope. Not this time.

He grabs your wrist and pulls your back against his chest, swiftly wrapping an arm around you the moment you’re close enough. You don’t fight him back. “You’re not being very nice.” he whispers, tilting his head just over your shoulder. You turn away, as if trying to ignore him still.

“… I really don’t wanna talk to you.”

“You’re the one who told me communication was important in relationships.” he chuckles softly, letting you go but grabbing your hand instead. You step away and give him a glare, to which he responds with an innocent smile. “Am I wrong?”

He knows he’s right.

“Let’s communicate when we’re actually sure we’ll both be alive,” you respond with an annoyed tilt to your voice, “I told you Hearts games are a no, with us two.”

Ah, yes. He thinks he might be falling in love all over again. You may be doing this out of the goodness of your heart, out of pure fear of losing him— But if you are, it’s probably fifteen percent of the reason why. The eighty-five remaining ones are just the fact that you would choose your own life over his any day. But you’re nice enough to not want to get to that point. Just lovely. “My heartless lover, attempting,” he hums, stepping closer again— Just close enough not to invade your space again. “Do you really think we can’t both win this? Come on.”

You look away, irritated. He rubs your hand with his thumb slowly, tracing words into your palm. Your name. A plea to stop acting like this before he loses his goddamn mind. He isn’t sure what it is about you ignoring him that makes him feel so far away from his usual ‘sanity’, but he really dislikes it. He’s fine without you. Perhaps the idea of not having your attention on him is simply… Not right. It should always be on him, it has always been on him.

“Sunato.” you sigh. First name, he thinks, getting somewhere. He takes that as his cue and steps closer again. He says your name the same way you said his and gives you this soft, innocent expression of his. You look at him and he can see it in your eyes you’re trying not to break.

He moves just a bit closer. “I miss you.” he whispers. He tries to hold your waist but you move away right before he can, which leaves him stunned for a second.

His expression drops. “…You know me.” he says flatly, though his tone is as quiet as usual. “You know I don’t care that you’d kill me to survive.”

You look at him with that stern expression of yours and his gaze drifts towards your lips briefly. You’re gonna say something smart and clearly pissed off and then leave him again. You’re definitely gonna do that.

No. No you’re not. At least not that last part.

He half-listens to you as you begin to tell him to stop being so annoying for at least a day so you can focus on the game all whilst checking both sides of the hallway you’re in. Then he tightens his hold on your hand and tugs you towards a secluded area with him. You almost look hopeful.

“I’m going to kiss you. Okay?”

He gives you a long second and all you do is half-heartedly glare at him, so he grabs your face and pulls it towards his own. Fuck, finally. The feeling of your lips against his makes him sigh softly, a small smile forming on his features as he pulls you closer. He doesn’t think he could’ve survived longer without this. He remembers very clearly when he got addicted to you and every single thing about you. It makes him ten times weaker than he was when alone, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

You pull away after a while and gasp for air, grabbing his shirt at the same time. He laughs silently, eyeing your face. “Did you really think you could ignore me for that long?” he says, slowly moving the two of you until your back hit the wall. He leans closer to your face again but gives you time to catch your breath. “Did you?”

“Again,” you pant, pulling him in. He grunts but accepts the kiss, deepens it, even, and presses you closer into the wall. It feels so good having you in his hands, against his lips, pressed up to him. He breathes you in like you’re the oxygen he needs before pulling away, but only long enough to angle his face the other way to kiss you better. You make a soft sound that only sends his mind spinning and blood rushing to all the right places. Whenever he moves, you follow— Your desperation makes him grin. He almost feels like he needs you, too. Almost.

“You needed me badly,” he whispers when he finally manages to detach the two of you, and feels the heat of your gaze all over him, “So don’t let go of me. I’m counting on you to be the one to need me, live with me, and be the death of me.”

“I don’t wanna be the death of you…Mn…”

Another kiss, for good measure, then he’s leaning his forehead against yours. There’s something warm about the feeling of being close to you. He ‘loves’ you. He’s obsessed, if he’s to use the right terms– A long-term kind of obsession, one that runs deep into his veins. It’s as close to love as he can get. He smiles at you and chuckles softly, before looking over your shoulder. “Heart.”

“Heart.”

“It is time to make your guess. Please enter a prison cell. One person per cell, please.”

Banda pulls away and looks at you. “If you kill me, I won’t be upset.”

“I’d be. You better not be lying.” you say, gripping tighter at his shirt, just over his heart, before shoving it away slightly. You start walking off and he stares at the heart symbol on your collar. “... See you.”

“Why?”

Hyunju’s voice has never sounded so broken. She’s too astounded to even think of not letting her guard down, simply weak and vulnerable as she stares up at you. The shake in that one word, the sickening concern in her eyes— It almost makes you regret what just happened.

Almost.

“Because I care about you more than—”

“Nevermind…” she scoffs, eyes widening. She presses her lips together but it doesn’t stop the tremble of a sob waiting to escape her throat. Her gaze averts to a wall in the dormitory, silently putting a stop to whatever you were going to say.

You decide to give her space.

The bathrooms are empty, leaving you silence and space for thinking. You look at your reflection in the mirror, the blood on your face and neck. You did not kill anyone. You assured your safety. You did not kill someone. They were a problem. The thought repeats steadily in your mind as you turn on the faucet, letting water flow into your palms.

It’s as if you can see the overflowing blood on your hands, still. That player you fought to throw out of that room, the sight of the bullet shooting through their head once the door finally locked, the weight of their grip of the other the side of the handle loosening until a thud confirmed the end of a life. But they were in the spot she needed. You could not risk it. What if she had died? It was only right.

The blood washes off. The thought remains. You aren’t sure how long you spend staring at the mirror, barely even really looking at your reflection. You just know you’re asked to return to the dormitory, and that you go to bed, then the lights turn off.

You think Hyunju hates you.

You thought she would come to hate you here over trying to protect her, maybe. Now you realize, now that the blood is there, that she could simply hate you for taking away someone’s life— Even if indirectly. It makes sense to hate a now-murderer.

Yes.

Then, if she hates you, you’ll be able to sacrifice yourself for her sake if need be without wondering how well she’ll take the loss—

“Don’t just disappear.” A familiar soft voice speaks behind you. Hyunju’s arms circle around your waist and her head presses gently into your nape. She’s so warm. You almost forget your train of thoughts.

Once it comes back to you, your expression pulls into confusion. “Sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t think you would mind.”

“Were you trying to give me space?”

“Yeah.”

She sighs, but hugs you tighter. “Because I was angry? Angry that you got yourself in so much unnecessary danger for my sake? Try making some sense.”

Your body relaxes into her hold before you even realize it, and soon, you’re turning over to look at her. She just seems a bit sad. Your hand slowly moves to her face and cradles her cheek, caressing the skin with care. “I pushed someone straight to their death and you’re telling me you were mad because I was in danger?”

She doesn’t respond, simply pursing her lips. A silent yeah. Exactly that.

“In danger? Me?”

“One second off and they could’ve switched you out of the room. And then I would have been alone with someone who practically killed you. And that would have been it. No more you at all,” she explains, and her voice begins shaking, “No more— I wouldn’t see your face anymore, wouldn’t have you with me, wouldn’t have the knowledge you’re there for me when life fucks me over— Think about it, come on.”

She’s trying so hard not to cry and stay quiet you wonder how much it must hurt. So you were wrong. It isn’t at all that person’s death that made her look at you this way. It’s somehow even worse.

You turn fully to return her embrace, hugging her firmly and kissing her forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t risk dying for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

She hides her face in your neck. “I love you.”

She says it with every single fiber of her being. After all, her touch, her tears, her words before this— They’re all marks of love. You feel her hand brushing over your arm, an injury you earned yourself during that game. She traces it gently and you think you could never promise her not to die for her.

“You know I could be of use to you, right?”

“How?”

You groan in annoyance, tilting your head back. The sky is clear and the streets are quiet. This doesn’t quite feel like the ultimate perfect ending, it doesn’t quite feel like peace, but it’s a kind of calm you won’t take for granted. You look back up and continue walking.

“You’re missing tons of emotions. Trust me, there’s no one better than me to help you relearn them.” you say, attempting a dramatic salesman kind-of tone but failing miserably. You hear Eunhyuk scoff and think it was a bit of a victory, anyways.

“That sounds believable.”

“It is!” you insist, jogging up to him, “I swear we were dating before you went off and died.”

“I know.”

“That’s insane. You— I mean, you didn’t forget things, so then you must know this isn’t how you treat the person you’re dating after not seeing them for over a year. Surely.”

Eunhyuk turns to look at you. “The person you’re dating? We’re still together?”

“I mean, it’s not like I ever gave up on you.” you say, crossing your arms. He stares at you blankly for a couple more seconds before looking ahead again.

“Sounds like a waste of time.”

You sigh and let your expression fall for a second before fixing it. When your gaze falls on Eunhyuk again, his own expression has changed ever-so-slightly. There’s a crease between his eyebrows and his eyes are squinting a little, with a familiar tilt of his head. Then he blinks and returns to this neutral expression of his. “Is it not?”

“What else do you have to do with your time?”

“Finding others—”

“—Like you. Sixteenth time you say this, by the way,” you scoff, walking ahead of him. “You’re starting to sound like a broken record.”

Your eyes are burning a little bit. No, none of this feels victorious. To hell with a final battle, with everyone escaping, with everything. Nothing has changed. All that’s good is Eunhyuk being alive and he only feels like half of himself.

The worst part is that he acts the same as he used to. To the detail. It’s so obviously him that it almost hurts— All his actions just miss the hidden emotions he always kept close to his heart. Now it all feels empty.

Eunhyuk says your name and your heart feels like it stops. Just for a moment. You turn to see him catch up to you and slow at your side.

“This thing,” he says, and pulls out a necklace from a pocket inside his coat, “It’s yours.”

You blink. “… Yeah. It is.”

He looks at the piece of jewelry, holding it up by the chain like some kind of random thing he found on the street, before tossing it around his hand and grabbing the pendant in his palm.

“She said to use memories to relearn emotions,” he recalls quietly, then turns to look at you, “What do you think?”

“You tell me. Do your memories help?”

“I remember caring about you.”

You stare at him dead in the eye and barely blink at all for a few seconds. He does, and tilts his head again.

“What is it?”

“Why am I the only one still in love? That’s really unfair.” you huff.

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not.”

“I said I remember everything, why are you trying to fool me? You always made this exact same face when you tried to hold back your tears,” he states, “I know this much.”

You heave a deep sigh and crouch down on the ground, covering your face with your hands. He’s right. It’s starting to make you angry. It really is him. It’s as if part of you was still trying to believe it wasn’t really Eunhyuk, that he was pretending not to feel emotions anymore. But it really hits you this time, that he’s simply lost that part of himself. You should be grateful that’s all he lost in the process of his rebirth, but you miss him. You miss him so much it hurts.

“I told you not to cry,” he sighs, and the closeness of his voice indicates he moved to your level, “What’s the point?”

“I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

You shake your head.

“…If it’s making you this sad, then alright. Help me relearn them. Emotions,” he says. You take a deep breath and look up slowly. He’s waiting, crouching in front of you, a casual expression on his bloody face. “I’m a quick learner.”

“Okay. I’m bad at teaching though, I totally lied earlier. Promise not to leave me.”

“I have no reason to anymore. Besides…” he trails off, gaze averting. “…”

Lee Eunhyuk is more confused than he’d like to admit. He doesn’t feel emotions anymore, and he doesn’t feel any attachment to them either. There’s little hints of them, however, here and there. He sees you in pain and there’s a slight discomfort in his chest, reminiscent of a time long gone. He sees that necklace and picture and wonders why he bothers carrying them around, still. He sees the road ahead of him and acknowledges that he’s… Just a bit lost.

What now?

“… It’s for the best I stay with you,” he says, blinks, then looks at you again, “I think.”

“You think?”

“That’s the best I can give you.” He smiles, a bit tightly, and the grimace you make in return before scoffing out a laugh tells him he must not be doing a great job at this whole thing. He gives up for now.

“Let’s find somewhere safe to stay first.”

“Anywhere is safe as long as you stay with me.”

You give him an expression of irritation that he doesn’t really understand and get up, immediately beginning to walk away. “Don’t say things like that! You’re making me hope! Shut up!”

He gets up slowly and follows you. “It’s true, though.”

From the very first hours of the outbreak, people saw a leading figure in you. A seemingly natural instinct to guide people and keep them as safe as possible. Someone strict, just firm enough to keep panicking residents in line and gentle enough to reassure other equally terrified people.

The perfect leader, really. It wasn’t exactly the role you would have wanted had you imagined yourself in this situation prior, but you felt you didn’t really have a say in the matter. You were just a college student, and within a few hours, at least ten people in your apartment building had voiced out their agreement on you being the perfect captain for a broken and sinking ship.

So when this guy with a blue flannel gave off the same impression as you apparently did— enough to convince people he would be a good leader, too— you were mildly relieved. Part of you felt like it was a good thing someone else would take the reins for this whole thing. It was too much pressure for you. But another part didn’t feel at ease. After all, you didn’t know this guy. People trusted him for a reason— He did seem mature, headstrong, and determined. Good with instructions and quick-witted. But you didn’t know if that would be enough to let the people here, or you, at least, survive this.

If you were to survive this in a group, you would need to have some kind of authority when it came to making decisions. Surviving alone was fine, but being stuck with so many people meant certain chaos, attempts at democracy leading to stupid decisions, and your life being stacked between at least twenty others with barely a word to say when they would all eventually be led to sure death. You’d damn near experienced it already, and that was more than enough for you.

So you didn’t step away when Lee Eunhyuk, as you eventually learned his name to be, took the place of a leader. And thankfully, it seemed the residents hadn’t expected you to. So weeks ago, you and Eunhyuk were appointed as leaders of Green Home during the monster apocalypse.

“Going there would be suicide.”

“So you suggest we stay here and wait to die? Do you genuinely think the people in the next room over will be fine with that?”

Leaders who get along perfectly.

“I suggest you use your head a little. There’s resources in much more accessible spaces than this. The store at the side, for example?”

“I’m not sending anyone there.” Eunhyuk states blankly, in his usual emotionless fashion. You narrow your eyes and bite back a scoff.

“Right, I almost forgot it’s about sending out people with you. You’re a coward, you know that?” you say, and he glances at you from the side.

“And you’re just as selfish.” he says, turning to face you properly, “Let’s not pretend you’re any better than I am because you act courageous. You’re terrified.”

“And you’re mistaken. Why don’t you go out there and get to the storage room yourself?”

Eunhyuk’s tongue presses into his cheek and his fingers tightens into a fist. He presses his hand to the table and tilts his head a little, nodding slightly. “We both know without a leading figure this group is done for.” he says, tone much calmer than you’d anticipated. The restraint he has over his anger only serves as fuel to your own. You bite the flesh of your lip.

“Am I not a leading figure?”

“You are, but are you a good one?” he asks. There. There it is, the hint of anger. That cutting edge to his tone. It’s nearly imperceptible but it makes you want to bring out all of it.

“Do you believe I’m not?”

You step closer. He looks down to your feet then back up to meet your gaze. “You’re dodging the question.”

“It’s a weird question to ask.”

You’re close enough to punch him, now, if need be. You won’t. But it’s a good thing to note.

“I don’t think it is, all things considered.”

“Uh,” a meek voice comes from behind you. You turn towards the door to see a man from the group stand with a bottle in hand, moving around uncomfortably, “The others are arguing about rations… You should come.”

You take this as the perfect opportunity to clear your head and not to let your irritation get the better of you. You hum absentmindedly and walk past him to get to the store where you expect everyone to be, leaving the man and a scowling Eunhyuk behind.

“Is- Is something wr—”

“Everything’s fine.”

Everything is wrong.

It’s been less than a day since your argument with Eunhyuk when a new problem enters your life. A guy that looks about your age, that you remember walking past when he moved in, who fell from nine floors high in the stairway. He’s lying on the floor with blood all over and around him. Everyone is scrambling to take a look and Seo Yikyung has to be the one to hold them back, because you and Eunhyuk are too busy checking the supposedly dead man’s pulse for the third time.

“He’s breathing.” you sigh, pulling away your trembling hand from his face again. This is insanity.

“It’s impossible…”

“Get a grip.” you shove Eunhyuk’s shoulder, “Impossible isn’t in our vocabulary right now. Weird as this may be, we can’t just leave him here, so start thinking or I’ll make the decisions.”

He’s shaken out of his thoughts, alright, but now he seems another kind of confused that you can’t bring yourself to try deciphering. He calls your name but you don’t respond.

You don’t exactly look down, but you start to kneel to reach towards the body on the floor. You need to carry him somewhere else, where no one will see how bad it is. There’s kids here and the adults aren’t reliable. You can’t let this cause more trouble.

Your gaze is looking anywhere else but at the corpse— Person. Alive. You almost grab him when Eunhyuk stops you with a hand on your shoulder, effectively causing you to flinch.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

He hoists the limp body up on his back with some effort and holds him tightly so he doesn’t fall. “Tell them to go elsewhere. It’ll only cause issues for them to see more than needed.” he tells you, nodding towards the hallway. The blood that gets on his clothes and the state of the one he carries unsettles you a little, but you nod and hurry outside.

“Go to the daycare.” you say, voice hoarse. Everyone’s chattering does nothing to help you calm down. You’re not sure if they didn’t hear you or if they simply don’t care. “I said go! Right now!” you exclaim, much louder. 

The talking silences and everyone reluctantly heads to that place, though clearly still trying to get a glimpse of the situation. You breathe out sharply and stare down at the floor. Your reflection meets you halfway on the tiles, showing you just how little control you currently have on the emotions you usually hide so well. You’ve seen people get killed too many times since this all started but this is was one too many. 

You can’t even tell if the stranger’s fall was accidental, if it was suicide, if… You can’t think.

Eunhyuk passes by you and you barely notice. Or rather, you force yourself not to notice.

So much blood.

The sun sets and rises again. Tension does as well.

“We can’t keep on using him.” you say upon stepping into the security office. Eunhyuk is leaning against the desk, eyes trained on the several CCTV screens when you come in, and he seems like he’s about to leave the moment you start talking. You close the door and he gives up. He seems to know there’s no point in trying to leave, now.

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. We both know you’re not.”

“High compliments coming from you.”

You sigh and step further into the room. “I’m not in the mood to argue, Lee Eunhyuk. Cha Hyunsu, he… He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. You know it, too.”

Eunhyuk is silent. You see his thumb tapping against the desk rhythmically, like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Lee Eunhyuk.”

“I heard you.”

“Then say something!” you scream.

Eunhyuk turns to look at you. You take a breath. It’s unlike you to let your anger turn to yelling but you feel hopeless. Cha Hyunsu is just a boy your age trapped in circumstances he never asked for, and forced to do the worst part of the work around Green House. Eunhyuk never wanted to send anyone upstairs, yet he decided to send Hyunsu there. Because he’s a monster? Because he survived a several floors high fall? Because he was doomed to live in-between two kinds of evil, neither of which truly accepts him?

It just feels like it hits you harder today that this world will continue to be this cruel. And you two are not making it any better.

“This is the best way.” Eunhyuk says, unfazed. “The group needs to survive. You said it yourself. Cha Hyunsu’s the best bet we have at getting this result.”

“We saw him die, Eunhyuk.”

“He’s alive. You know that.”

“This is unfair.”

“The world is unfair.”

You look elsewhere, annoyed. Eunhyuk calls your name in the same tone he always does. “Your sympathy is useless.”

“What kind of leaders are we if rid of any compassion?”

“… The kind needed to survive.” he says quietly, gaze cast downwards. “Jisu asked for band-aids. Could you bring them to her for me?”

Anything’s a good enough distraction from whatever spiral you feel yourself falling into.

“Sure.”

Days pass. Your anger subsides.

“But didn’t you say it was okay to go there?”

“No, I didn’t.” Eunhyuk crosses his arms, “Who told you that?”

A name is mentioned in reply.

You sneeze.

“Aye, did you catch a cold?” Eunyu scoffs, laughing smoke at the face you seem to be making. “That’s bad. Catching a cold during an apocalypse? Seriously.”

You and the girl are sitting on the fire escape stairs, on the floor closest to the main hall. She has a habit of disappearing to go smoke, or whatever else she does, and you don’t want her getting killed. She didn’t seem to mind you coming to check up on her the first time, and now you have a habit of disappearing to hang out with her.

“I’m fine.” you click your tongue, “Anyways, you shouldn’t be smoking out there. If your brother was here he’d be pissed.”

“Who cares? Let’s not act like he ever shows it.”

You roll your eyes a little and chuckle. “Sure.” you hum, “Still. What’s the point in smoking? During an apocalypse, too? That’s bad.”

She flips you off and you return the gesture, earning a laugh in return. You don’t talk to many people in this place. Your age differs from nearly everyone. Eunyu’s a bit younger, so you’re mostly watching over her. Then there’s Hyunsu, but there’s a nearly visible wall between him and everyone. You can’t blame him for putting distance between you two especially. As far as he’s concerned, you’re also responsible for the errand-running he’s been told to do.

There’s Yikyung, but you’ve struggled to get close since you told her to shove off when she had Eunhyuk pinned to a wall. You’re not sure why you did that, even now. She’d be better company than him, maybe. And you understand her reasons.

Then there’s Eunhyuk.

“Serious talk, listen up.” Eunhyu huffs, “What relationship do you entertain with my brother?” she mimics a serious sounding voice that’s so unlike her. It makes you scoff in amusement.

“He’s a…” You trail off. What is he? A friend? An acquaintance? Whatever could be considered a coworker, at the moment? A fellow leader? “Uh, a person.”

Eunyu gives you this look that is so clearly judgemental that you consider jumping off the railing promptly.

“Yeah, no shit. Good to know he’s not turning.” she scoffs, “I know you hate him. Spit it out.”

“I don’t recall ever feeling that way.” you lie with an obviously fake smile. Eunyu threatens to throw her lighter at you. “He’s fine, alright? We just work together, I guess.”

“He likes you.”

“Hm?”

“He doesn’t hate you, I mean. You’re not stupid, so you noticed, right?” she says before bringing the cigarette to her lips again. You’re confused and it must show because she sighs in annoyance. “Clearly, I’d say the real leader is you out of you two. Aren’t most decisions yours?”

“They’re ours. Mostly his. Trust me, my opinion isn’t as valued as you might believe.”

Her expression suddenly sours and she curses under her breath. “And I think you’re wrong. Anyways, I’ll leave you with the jerk.” she coughs, pushing herself off of the stairs, “Bye.”

You hum curiously as you watch her leave before turning around. Lee Eunhyuk. Of course.

The first thing he does is shove your shoulder.

“What the hell?” you scoff, scrambling up to your feet before you can lose your balance. It’s such an unexpected move from him that you can’t help the words that slip past your lips. “What’s your deal?”

“Returning the gesture. What’s yours?”

“Huh?”

“The gate to the store alley. I said it should stay closed.” he says, “So why are three people on their way back from there telling me I allowed it?”

“Because I allowed it.” you say casually. “It had medicine, water, and some canned foods. Besides, we needed fresh air.”

He stays silent for at least half a minute before he steps closer to you. Close enough for your hands to touch if your arms were to move an inch. “It’s not safe. I said so enough, didn’t I?”

“Have you ever cared about safety?”

“I have—”

“About the people’s, about the half-monsters’s, about yours?”

Your name sounds tense when he says it.

“About mine?”

“Do you ever stop talking?” he grits his teeth. His eye twitches. You wouldn’t have noticed it had you been further away. No, you… you would have. You know his every feature and emotions too well by now. You would realize the most unnoticeable of changes from him. Any of them.

He’s angry.

There.

“Does that piss you off? That I talk so much?” you say, “Is it a problem because you never do? Does hearing someone so much get on your nerves? Should I leave the leading you? Are your decisions supreme? Am I too talkative? Is that it? Is that it?”

He kisses— He almost kisses you. He stops short of pressing his lips against yours, short of holding your collar and bringing it up to meet his chest, short of everything you only now realized would’ve been so good to have.

For fuck’s sake. “You’re holding back.”

“There’s no point in causing unnecessary fights.”

“You’re a coward.”

“You—”

You tilt your head, like you want him to finish his sentence. You do. He’s realized this much.

He takes a breath to calm down and steps back, much to your dismay.

“I know why you used to be so self-centered.”

“That’s…” you trail off, before laughing in disbelief. “What?”

“You almost got killed at the alley to the store, the one you just allowed to be opened. First day of the apocalypse. I remember it. You looked terrified. Then you put your survival above anyone else’s.” he says, “And yet now, you keep on trying to go. That’s something I don’t understand.”

You swallow, images of that monster nearly killing you with its claws, and dragging away a bloodied, dismembered corpse when it failed to find you. The feeling of someone pulling you back into the shadow so you wouldn’t get noticed, and the chaos that ensued in the main hall so quickly that you never got to see who it was.

… Wait?

“That was you.”

“It doesn’t matter who it was. You changed.” he cuts off any questions you might have, “You used to be selfish. People falsely believed you were a good leader just because you seemed strong. But you didn’t care about anyone’s lives except yours.”

“… So what? What changed?” you ask quietly, “Did you fall for it, too? Because I’m still the same, as far as I’m concerned.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I do—“

“The you I first talked to in the security room would’ve never went out of their way to make sure some high-schooler is doing fine. They wouldn’t have been this upset over a random half-monster running errands. You would have been unbothered. And that store you seem so obsessed with would’ve been emptied of the basics before anyone could get them. But it was full, wasn’t it? The store was untouched.”

You’re not sure what to say. Where is he going with this?

“Fine.” you settle with that. “Let’s say that, somehow, you’re right. Then should we talk about you? That you changed, too?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“You never talk this much. Why are you so obsessed with this?”

“… I just wanted you to know.” he says, but it sounds like he’s withholding another response. “It didn’t feel right for me not to tell you I knew about what happened after all this time. Also I need you to come back now. People are gonna crowd the store too much for it to be left without any rules.”

You look away. Decide. Look back at him. “Fine.”

Lives come and go. The obvious is ignored.

A lot of guns were pointed at a lot of people’s heads today. You’re unsure why the image of Eunhyuk stuck to the floor with a gun pointed to his forehead is stuck in your mind so much. It keeps rewinding— Reminding you that you were both helpless there, that you got lucky he even survived it all.

There’s so much blood everywhere.

Someone says your full name, with a tone much too casual to match what seemed to be politeness and with such ease that it can only be one person. He grabs your arms and tries to catch your gaze. “Are you okay?”

“Are you crazy?” you whisper, looking at him. He looks like a mess. “You almost got killed, Eunhyuk.”

“So did you. Don’t downplay it.” he argues. You expect his grip to loosen now that he’s seen you’re alright enough to talk but it only seems to tighten, “We have a few minutes to get it together before we have to go back to the usual. So be honest for once.”

Being honest…

You look at him, and your eyes are burning. “Fuck, Eunhyuk, I don’t know why I’m this scared.” you cough out, hands tensing at your sides.

He carries something gentler in his gaze, something you’re unfamiliar with. His hand drops to your wrist and he squeezes it. “Breathe.” he says, and you try, but it’s like you’re struggling to get the air in and out of your lungs. It’s burning, too. Why?… You’re panicking. That’s why. Your breaths come out short and that uneasiness who loves to get in the way of your thoughts is back. You can’t do anything, right now— you wouldn’t be able to get anyone to survive, let alone yourself.

Eunhyuk’s hand grabs your hastily and he brings it to his chest. “Slow down. Just breathe. That’s all that matters, right now.”

“Are you breathing?”

“I am. I need both of us to be. So listen to me.”

“Yeah.”

And just like a doctor would, he guides you to something calmer. Your gazes are locked the whole time. He insisted. Don’t look anywhere else, he said, just me. He helps you remember how to breathe again, helps you remember how to think, and helps you remember you have a lot to do immediately.

“We need to go.” you say, back to the closest thing to normal you could manage. “Hyunsu’s gone. Did anyone get shot? You should—”

“You should go grab the medkits. The ones in the nursery. Bring them here. I’ll take care of it.”

You don’t argue. “Okay.

Ah!” — But you nearly lose your footing. You hear Eunhyuk breathe out something that almost sounds like a laugh and turn around to glare.

“You’ll be lightheaded for a bit. Be careful.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.” you scoff. You hear Eunyu yell something along the lines of ‘It’ll be fine, so stop looking and get to work—‘ but you’re too far away to catch all of it.

The skies darken before the light comes back again. Things are eerily quiet.

When leadership becomes worthless, it’s hard to keep a proper sense of identity. Everyone has seen you and Eunhyuk as their leaders for a long while now. But since Jung Uimyeong’s arrival and the clear impact he’s had on the group’s dearest Cha Hyunsu, the atmosphere has suffered a drastic change. It feels tense for everyone but the newfound duo. It’s suffocating.

But instincts remain the same. Survival is key, and that means gathering information is, as well. You need to get what Uimyeong’s plan is before it escalates, but you know he would have no interest in talking to you.

So Hyunsu, it is.

“You don’t trust me.”

“But I do! I’ve always trusted you, Hyunsu.”

The latter keeps on walking and you have to jog to catch up. This is ridiculous, how could he allow a stranger to change him so much? Did he convince him the people here were the real enemy? You wouldn’t be surprised. Still…

“Just stop and have an actual conversation with me.” you scoff.

He does just that, stops in his tracks, and you nearly run into him. He turns around slowly to look at you. Hyunsu’s expression is usually devoid of emotion but now it’s just cold. “I don’t want to talk to you. Everything you say’s a lie. You don’t trust anyone here. I’ll say good luck to the people who still think you’re a good leader.”

“Isn’t that too much?” Eunhyuk. “Especially since you know it’s not true. Or were you influenced by that guy so easily?”

Hyunsu glances at him, then back at you, before directing his glare to Eunhyuk again. “Find someone else to run your errands. I’m tired of it.”

“That’s not—”

“Leave him be.” Eunhyuk says as Hyunsu walks away. You sigh and rub your temples. This isn’t good. “There’s no point in trying to reason with him now.”

“So what, we don’t do anything? Leave things as they are?”

“We do.”

You sigh and turn around to let your head drop on his shoulder. Eunhyuk brings his hand to the back of your head and leaves it there. You’re not sure how or why this change happened between the two of you after the shootout, but neither of you mention it. It might be for the best.

“I’m tired.” you mumble.

“You should get some rest.” he says quietly, “There isn’t much to take care of, right now. You should be able to sleep for a bit.”

“How long is a bit?”

“Until I wake you, approximately.”

“… Fine by me.”

The sun sets—

“Wake up.”

“Hmm…?” you force yourself to open your eyes and look up. God, the world’s blurry. “What?”

“Switch. I need to rest for a bit.”

You nod lazily and sit up on the bed, making space for him to sit. He settles at your side and turns to look at you. “Look here.” he says (demands) with a hand on your jaw. You turn and feel like he’s scrutinizing your face. “Any injuries?”

“Not anything new, no.” you say, “You?”

“The same.” he sighs, dropping his hand. It’s your turn to touch his face. You hold the side of it in your hand and let your thumb graze the skin under his eye. His glasses are good to hide his eyes, you think. But you’re always close enough to see them. After the shooting, you remember something, despite the state you were in.

“You cried.” you say. He hums inquisitively at that. “When those guys barged in and stuff. When you came back after going with them, you looked like you’d been crying.”

“Not really. I was just upset.”

“Because?”

“Is there not enough reasons to be upset in this place?” he deadpans, and scoffs silently when you give him a look. “I couldn’t save Ms. An. I watched her get shot.”

You have half a mind to hold back from squeezing his head to death. “And you didn’t think it worth mentioning? That’s bad, Eunhyuk.”

“I’ve… Seen worse.”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “Take it back.”

“Or else?” he asks. Oh. Oh. He’s teasing you. What the hell? This is new. Your hand drops to grab his collar. You get deja-vu. Something similar happened before. He looks down at your hand then back up at you.

“You really want to find out, do you?”

There’s something in the air. Something you would’ve usually described as tension, but it almost feels comfortable. You know Eunhyuk well yet you can’t tell what’ll happen next. You could guess, though. Each word and touch means more now than it used to.

(Maybe they always meant something, maybe you just chose to ignore it.) 

He stares at you for a few seconds then tilts his head to the side, expression unreadable. “I do.”

Your fingers tighten around his collar and he smiles. His hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, slowly pulling it away from him. “Hey…?”

“But I don’t think I’ll find out about anything. You’re a liar, after all. And a coward, just like me.” he says, all whilst gently pushing you to lay on the mattress. He does it so naturally it takes you a moment to realize. He hovers over you with your wrist still in hand. “Is that fine with you?”

“You insulting me or you pinning me down?”

“You decide.” he sighs, pressing your wrist down gently next to your head, “Would I be wrong to assume you don’t really mind either of those?”

You decide to shut him up instead. He takes it well.

“You taste a bit bloody.”

Then she sighs, softly, and it all changes.

The smoke dissipates to reveal a gentler expression (though the void in her eyes cannot be hidden), and the cigarette smell seems to leave with the passing breeze. She smiles softly and relaxes her shoulders. “I’m expecting great things from you.” she says, hiding a don’t you dare disappoint in between her words. She chuckles quietly to herself and turns on her heel. The school princess.

“Let’s go.” she says, her tone on the edge of something hurried. Like her facade, though perfectly constructed and practiced, might threaten to break if she stays any longer. You don’t reply but push yourself off of the wall to walk at her side when she strolls past where you were waiting.

The moment you’re far away enough from that hidden corner by the school entrance, Harin tenses again. You look down and see her thumb pressing its nail into her palm’s skin. Into flesh, at this rate. “Harin.” you call. She blinks out of her thoughts and turns her gaze to you. “What is it?”

“I’m thinking.” she replies honestly, bits of that kind demeanor slowly crumbling to reveal a more honest, yet possibly less furious side to her. One you’re more acquainted with.

“You do that too much.” you heave a deep sigh, “Seriously. Have you had a moment to breathe at all this week?”

Baek Harin is calculating. Always calculating each of her moves— Every interaction with all of her classmates, her family, her past present and future, the adults at her school. She carefully reviews the way she presents herself down to the detail. And now, she calculates everything Seong Suji does, everyone she interacts with, everyone around her, everything she does truthfully and all she does that seems fake— add more to the list. 

That’s just a recipe for disaster. But you’ve also known her for long enough to know that having a calm mind free of worries and overthinking is a privilege Harin hasn’t had since her early childhood years. The way she functions now is her own idea of normal, and it has been for much too long to even consider the idea of changing. So you don’t try to change it. But you try to calm her down, when she allows you to attempt it.

“I’m breathing fine.” she scoffs slightly, “I can’t afford not to think. Especially not…” she trails off like she’s remembered something, and you frown.

She reaches for her pillbox but it escapes her grasp, falling on the concrete. You reach over to grab it but she’s quicker than you. The moment the thing is in her hand, she opens it and shakes three vitamin tabs into her palm, before freezing in place.

You slow down and stop in your tracks, barely a meter back, then slowly approach her. Her eyes are flitting between the box and the pills themselves, her lip trembling as if struggling to get a word out. You start reaching out towards her but she suddenly throws all of the vitamins back into their little chamber. She clicks the pillbox close and puts it back into her pocket, then fumbles to get something else.

“Harin.”

She finally manages to find what she was seemingly so desperate to find, and opens the pack of cigarettes. She grabs one and shakily sets it between her lips, before repeating the whole searching process for her lighter.

“Harin.”

Once the golden thing’s in her hand, she clicks to light up a flame, once, twice, three times, to no avail. You swear her hand is beginning to shake.

“Baek Harin!”

“Fuck.”

She spits the cigarette to the ground and nearly crushes the rest of the pack in her hand. Her teeth bite into her lip to stifle a scream of frustration, you guess, and she goes back to digging her nails into the flesh of her hand.

You slowly set a hand on her shoulder and she lets you, though she does look much too lost in her own head to register anything other than the ground she’s been blankly staring at. “…Let’s go home.” you say, tone softer.

She nods in agreement.

Baek Harin’s definition of a home has changed several times over the years. Haneul Orphanage, the house of the family she was adopted into, and yet neither ever truly gave her the feeling that it was what home was supposed to feel like. She isn’t relieved when she steps foot into her house, she just feels more at ease to continue preparing her so-called schemes. Still, it is a house, her family lives there, and she never lacked anything. It’s a fine place to be.

But when she’s here, in comparison…

“I’m home.” you sigh as you take off your shoes. Harin sees your cat walk past the entrance hallway and stop to look at you, clearly waiting for something. And when you look at it, you smile and go pet it. It’s just that easy for them to get what they want in life, huh? She feels your gaze on her and looks at you.

“What?”

“Are you planning to stay at the door?”

She blinks. Right. She unclasps her shoes and slides them off her feet before she steps inside. She barely notices she’s breathing out a sigh of relief before a wave of exhaustion hits her. It makes her wonder for a moment if she was right to take the pillbox earlier. Maybe she forgot to take them during the day? She had so much to do. Did she? If she’s forgetful about this, she could be about much more important things….

She’s reminded of her near-breakdown just earlier and holds back from picking at her nails. She rarely reaches the brink of losing it this badly. She really needs to do something about the direction the game is going towards, or else she fears she might break at the wrong time.

“Harin.” you call, bringing her out of her thoughts, and she realizes you already walked to your kitchen, and you’re peeking at the corner of the wall to see her. “Do you want something?”

She stares at you a bit coldly, almost frowning. It’s clear she’s not entirely out of her own head, yet.

“Cola.” she says, “Do you have any?”

You scoff. “When do I not?”

She takes off her small backpack and walks further inside. This small place…  She would dislike it. She’s not one to be picky, but growing up in a luxury house for nearly ten years makes you dislike cramped spaces. At least she does. But she’s used to this apartment having you in it, and many times in the past, her, whenever she needed a place to go to that wasn’t her own house.

Sometimes she thinks maybe she isn’t grateful enough to have you. Sometimes.

“My game feels like it’s falling apart.” she sighs, walking into the living room. She plops down on the couch, tossing her bag aside and taking out her phone. “This girl is actively trying to ruin all of it.”

“Seong Suji?” you ask from the kitchen. There’s a hint of something in your voice that she hasn’t heard before. It’s sour and new.

She wants to hear it again.

“Yes. Seong Suji…” she trails off, “I swear even having 24/7 cameras on her wouldn’t help me stop her from doing all this.” she scoffs.

You hum in response, then it grows quiet. Harin feels a smile pull at her lips. She can practically see how much thoughts this small conversation provoked in your mind. Seong Suji? Is she the problem? She is. But is she in this case, too?

She’s curious.

“Still, I guess she’s a bit cute. Interesting, too. I’ve never had anyone stand up to me this much before.”

“Yeah?” you answer blankly, joining her. You set down the two glasses of cola on the coffee table just harshly enough for it to cause an audible clang. “Maybe because you're so used to having everyone bow to you and your every requests?”

“You don’t.”

“Don’t I?”

“You sound bitter.” Harin laughs, setting down her phone on her lap and propping up her elbow on the armrest. She sets her index under her chin and looks at you as you rummage through your backpack. The glimpse she gets of your face confirms you indeed seem unnerved about something. Cute… No, this is more than cute.

“I’m not.” you sigh, visibly straightening up. Your face relaxes and you glance towards her. “What’s with the staring?”

“Nothing. You’re nice to look at.”

You roll your eyes and grab your laptop from your bag and set it down on the table. Her eyes move to focus on it and she furrows her eyebrows. She didn’t know you still carried it around. She had to buy you one when it fell and the screen cracked, before. Irresponsible… Not that she minds buying for you. Not that you ask, either.

“Info on her friends. From other schools, I mean.”

Harin blinks, registering what you mean. “On Suji?” she mutters, eyes narrowing at the laptop. She tilts her head towards you with a small pout. “I never asked you that, did I?” she chuckles a little, leaning over to grab her glass.

This could be useful, but this doesn’t work.

You shake your head slightly. “Didn't.”

“So you’re just playing assistant, are you?” she huffs, “Thanks… But don’t do it again.”

You frown. “Why?”

“I don’t want you to get involved. You don’t even attend my school. It’ll only be trouble.”

— Besides, she doesn’t want you to be associated with this game and place as a whole more than needed. Just having you near the school is enough to make her stomach hurt. She has to have you be away from it all, at least. If not, she’ll feel like she’s still in it even when she’s with you. Then she won’t be able to sigh in relief once she steps inside your place anymore.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I get in trouble for you.”

“Mhm.” she laughs as she drinks, then turns to look at you once she’s done. The emotion leaves her face. “Don’t do it again.” she repeats, tone laced with hints of a threat. She means it.

“That doesn’t work on me, Harin.”

You stare at her and she doesn’t feel like looking away, either. You’re stubborn. She’s worse. This isn’t gonna end, and if it does, you might argue. She doesn’t feel like arguing.

“Do you like me?“ she decides to ask, just to throw you off a little.

“Are you insane?” you bite back, not missing a beat. Her smile deepens. She blinks away and leans back into the couch, sipping on her drink more.

“Not really.”

“False.”

“That’s rude?” she laughs, looking at you again. You raise your eyebrows and smile slightly, leaning to grab your glass.

“Too bad.” you say, before sipping on the cola. It’s a bit nostalgic. Drinking cola under dim lights when it feels like the world is only you two. This happened before, when she felt like her family’s very presence was suffocating, and locking herself in her room wasn’t enough— Or much earlier, when you were just kids, and you’d buy each other cola flavored popsicles. This kind of comfort makes her want more. She almost forgets about the game, for a moment.

The sour air in your voice and on your features seems to be gone now, so she figures the atmosphere is just as calming for you. Though she did enjoy seeing that look on your face… Your genuine, soft smile is one she enjoys a little bit more.

Now that she’s getting comfortable here, she doesn’t want to leave. She’ll take all the time she can get. She knows you don’t mind her staying. You may be above the rest when it comes to telling her off and not doing everything she asks, but you’re not above allowing nearly anything that helps her. And if letting her stay here, at the cost of possibly getting a death glare from her family members and irritating questions about any trouble she could’ve possibly caused for you, can help her? 

Then she knows you wouldn’t refuse. Even if you pretend you could. She knows how important she is to you.

“I’m staying the night.”

“When did I say you could?”