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Synopsis: When Dongju is sitting on the Yacht at the end of the series, he contemplates his life leading up until now and courts his own suicide. When he decides not to go through with it, an accident happens.

Disclaimer: This contains spoilers for Buried Hearts.

Continued from: One | Two | Three

Dull. It was slow. Eyelashes felt heavy—pulled down by weights. Everything felt good. Tingly. Floating. Breathing came long and low. His eyes rolled under his lids—his lips parted. “He’s coming to.” He heard a feminine voice and rustling—a swish as they rushed out. 

“Ugrrgh…” The sound rose out of him. He couldn’t recall feeling this way before. Never let it. …Maybe at the shack… When he was… 

Shot. 

Shot.

A large, rolling gasp came out, and his fists clenched, pulling at something that was holding him flat to the bed. Elastic-y. It resisted him. He was too weak. Fell back in a poof against the pillows, breathing. Heavy. Eyes half-lidded in a blur. Hazy. Haloed light from a side light. Something touched his forehead—brushed sweat away. His lips were pressed together in effort before his eyes opened more and focused. The hand held him steady. He breathed out. 

“There he is,” the soft voice said. “Donju? How do you feel? Bit floaty, huh?” 

“Nng…” His tongue felt thick while the hand slipped off his heated forehead. Sound of skin on styrofoam. Couldn’t turn his head, but his neck muscles must have twitched.

“Don’t move right now. Here, drink this.” A straw pressed at his lips and he wrapped them around it, not realizing that it was because his mouth was so dry that sound was hard—that his words were limp. The second the cold touched his throat, he coughed roughly, the staticy fuzz in his veins scattering across his body. A guillotine of pain struck him. His face tensed, eyebrows pressed. Sharp intake of breath. He heard a sigh above him. “Swallow carefully and don’t drink too fast or you’ll choke. You idiot.” 

“Eunnam?” Naturally, the name came out of his mouth, and he saw her lean over him, eyes wrinkled like they did when she’d been sleeping. He felt a dopey, confused smile on his face. This must be the afterlife. No… No, if it was, then she’d be dead. 

“Dongju. Tell me.” She touched him, a hand on his shoulder, while the cup quivered in the other. His eyes moved from it to the cup. He took another sip, clearing his throat. “Tell me, did you do this. Did you do this to yourself? Did you… shoot yourself?” 

It came back. The sunset—the waning light tickling across his face. The sway. His impulse was to lie—to say he hadn’t pointed the gun at his head—to say that he hadn’t played with the trigger. But what would that prove?

“Yeah.”

Silence. 

He drank more, swallowed sluggishly, the motion exhausting him. His eyes closed, he slackened his chin. 

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to die,” he rasped, throat feeling raw. He let his mouth stay open while he drifted slightly. He felt the covers be pulled back up and a thumb brush his cheek. 

Disclaimer: This contains spoilers for Buried Hearts.

Continued from: One | Two |

His hand quivered while he raised the barrel of the gun and kissed it against the warmth of his skin. The cool, spiritless metal pressed in while the visage of his father’s dying eyes bore into his soul. It ached. The handle shook while the tears squeezed out of his eyes. It built and built, and his finger pressed almost to the click—almost to that moment he begged himself for. 

It dropped. The gun fell heavy against the lines on his hands with the breath he was holding in. Hand shaking so bad, it dropped. It dropped and fired.

Bang. 

“AGH!!” Dongju cried out, clutching at his side where the all-too familiar coal of fire burst through his skin, tearing into his flesh. Thick. Hot. It spattered out of him as he dropped sideways onto the floor of the yacht, laughing—laughing until his lips were red like the lipstick Eunnam wore. Was this a punishment?