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   Quiet delight filled him, as his heart raced fasterâ taking another bite at the accomplishment of making decent enough food for his detainer. Eating spoonfuls of his own bowl, a small smile pressed against his thin lipsâ though he desperately tried to hide itâ he was too ugly to be smiling over something so easy to do such as making decent food. He was pitiful, and he knew this, but having someone appreciate what heâd done only made it harder on his psyche. To adore someone who killed all those without a careâ it was tearing him apart mentally.
    There was something wrong with him, to excuse such actions if it meant laying by his side at night, to be the only exception to Sangwoo.
   â Twoâ ? I havenât kept trackâââ Absent-mindedly he rubbed the bandaged area around his face and throat. It was a warning of what would happen to him if he continued to disobeyâ and it wasnât something so easy to forget.    â Iâm gladâ I was worried it wouldnât taste as good, Iâll keep it in mind for next time. â He sat quietly for a few more moments before lowering his hand once more and letting his dark eyes wander around the kitchenâ the uncomforting silence making it hard for him to think of what to say.
  what a creep. to find comfort in something as simple as to telling him he hadnât completely screwed over this time. something about the way he smiled, unnerving a part of the blond that buried deep into his core. it reminded him of hers, never joyful, but pitiful. the more he grew to resent that woman, the more he saw what others said about her. she wasnât quite sense & perhaps, she never was. the way bum looked away reminded sangwoo of thatâmoments lost in her delusion resulting in him staring until something drew her back to reality. or in his case, someone.
  ââwell, third one is a strike, so... letâs not go there.â the blond warned. his expression softening along with a smile that wasnât disingenuous, but malicious. one that was meant to show it would be no problem for him to cross that line. spoon drawn away from his bowl to tap it against the table, leaving residues of stew in it. it was meant to capture his attention. âhey. eyes here. you started conversation, so donât end it by looking away like iâm not here. you said you wanna go out together, yeah? you donât seem enthusiastic about it.â
Merry Christmas!
   He knew it was stupid to askâ if anything it verified the possibility of being stuck in this cursed home for the rest of his short, miserable life. It would be the last thing heâd see before dying by the hands of the tallerâ most likely. He wondered why he was tortured so much, it would be easier to put him out of his misery, seeing as death at least gave him some sense of freedomâ even if he was truly terrified of dying. A frail hand reached and scratched at his bandagesâ the discomfort of wearing them only reminded him of the times heâd try to escape. He was an idiot, wasnât he ? To think anything would work against a man who had killed for so long, and not a trace of it a suspicion to Bum until too late.
   A shaky sigh left him as he stared at his untouched food once more, before reaching out and grabbing his spoon, taking a biteâ itâd be better to have some strength in him if he were to be beaten for his stupidity.
    â Rightâ What was I thinking ? You have no reason to trust me, â Picking at the contents in his bowl a bit longer he gave out a soft, nervous laugh before pulling away and rubbing his eyes.    â Does it taste good ? I havenât made this kind of stuff without my grandmother, soâ it might not be the best. â
   it wasnât so much a matter of trust as it was of fearâone that was rooted from an abandonment he did not want to go through, again. because sangwoo wasnât alone throughout his life, even if it felt so at times. both of his parents were everything he knew of for a while. he didnât even remember of any relatives, as he hadnât seen them over ten years now. with them living in this house, he felt alone, but without them, he never was. her voice calling his name as if taunting him for what had happened. if the other were to leave, there would be no other voice to drown her screams.
  ââmmm... at least youâre aware of that. i mean, itâs been, what? two times now? it would look real bad on me if there was a third one & i didnât kill you.â his threats werenât empty, after all, but they never got that far. even when he wanted to. something within him stopped him from clutching his hands around that frail neck until he was no longer breathing. perhaps, it was his motherâs image that flashed through his eyes, or the though that heâd become his father, enough to terrify him & let go. sangwoo didnât want to get to that point; didnât want his hand to be forced just because the other wouldnât listen.
  his spoon stirred around his food before picking some, taking a bite from it & chew on it slowly to really savour it with a hum. this kind of meal... it brought him back to three years prior, in which heâd come home with food already on the table. âi think it needs a little more salt, but other than that... itâs good.â

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There it was again, she thought to herself, a crude way of speech that lacked in fondness when reffering to his father. It did make her wonder perhaps more than the dubious circumstances of the manâs death didâŚjust what sort of relationship was it that Sangwoo had with his father? For him to come all the way into a snowy mountain to visit the spot of his death, yet still act so curtly towards the memory, the existence of conflicted feelings was obvious â she would not ask about it of course, nor did she have interest in doing so, Chiri wouldnât want to be asked the same thing if it were her. Simply holding still onto the otherâs hand, she walked alongside him without hesitation.
A hum through pursed lips, slightly curled into a melancholic smile of sorts. The sound of running water couldâve drowned the sound of her voice, so softly spoken then. âIt is quite shameless, isnât it? Doesnât it make you wonder if those who choose to die that way also just want one final shot at getting attention? Or maybe make others feel guilty? â I knew someone just like thatâŚheâd want to hang himself for every little thing, such a hopeless manâŚâ A man she had loved so oh dearly, not in spite of that hopelessness, but because of it. That realization, made her cheeks turn red. âIâm sorry, I should not be talking about another man when on a date, thatâs incredibly rude of me.â She said, scolding herself.
   or a display of shame, he thought. just like his mother wouldâve wanted it, but the one tying the noose wasnât her, but him. the one responsible for his fatherâs death, was no one other than sangwoo. right? right. or at least, thatâs what he believed to be the case. the memory still hazy even if it hadnât been that long ago. looking up at a tree, he could almost see it as if it was right there with his feet dangling above ground as the two continued to venture deeper into the forest.
   it didnât matter. none of it did. a dead body was nothing but that: a dead body. the circumstances of their death were irrelevant putting all those things aside. if there was something to deem shameless, it was the life that was lived prior to that. bottles being thrown & shattering against the ground. loud yelling while his mother called his name for help. sangwoo felt disgust at the mere thought, barely paying attention to what she was saying until she began to apologize & head turned her way.
  ah, was that supposed to be someone close to her, then? brows were raised with mild surprise. he looked at her long & hard before smiling & nudging her gently with his elbow. ââoh? you think iâd get jealous? was this man someone special?â
    â Whatâ no itâs. I mean, you already know so much about my past butâ I donât know anything really about yours so IâŚâ He could feel himself get physically ill just at his own comment, knowing that he was getting closer to getting slappedâ the brunette stared at his untouched food a bit longer in hopes maybe he could change the topic before the other interrogated him more.
    â You have really nice singing voice, yâknowâ do you think maybe you could sing for me sometimeâ maybe when weâre going to bed or umââ He paused, playing with his hands nervously in his lap before meeting Sangwooâs gaze.   â Do you think we could go out more ? Together ?â
   if he was trying to be sly with the change of topic, he wasnât doing a very good job at it. however, sangwoo was growing irritated by the second. the longer he stared at that face, he could his energy be drained away just like that. it was tedious sometimes. most of the time, that it begged to question why he even put up with someone as frustrating as bum is. the way that he choked on his own words or fidgeted nervously, enough to make him want to get up & tug at his hair, telling him to get a grip. sometimes, he made it nearly impossible to stand, but as his eyes glanced downwards onto his plate, the blond was reminded as to he had allowed him to live this long. for a moment, it wasnât bum the one sitting across the table, but his mother. those vacant eyes staring back at her before her image was gone with a blink. sigh leaving his lips as he continued to eat.
  ââyou want me to sing you in bed? am i your mother now?â ironic, he thought. sangwoo chortled at that. out of all the subjects to pick, he had to choose something as corny as that, didnât he... âi donât know if i trust you enough to take you out.â
â She is weeping, fool, because she has lived! And because she lives! But what she deplores most, what makes her shudder down to her knees, is that tomorrow, alas! she will still have to live! Tomorrow, after tomorrow, always! â like us!
           Private & selective Chiri Kitsu / Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei                                             worshipped by goblin
   i swear iâm not dead just tired.
âWell, romance is deffinitely exciting! But I do see you pointâŚâ The large hand around her own, squeezing down, made her squeeze back just as tightly without hesitation. âBeing here makes me wonder how impressive it is that those bodies were found at allâŚtruly, picking the right method to dispose evidence can be quite the gamble, but something fancy isnât always availabale, I suppose.â She spoke honestly, like someone who spoke from experience of course, without a sense of realization as to why her thoughts could have the potential to be off putting â- after all, there was no reason, she thought, for her point of view to cause any surprise at such late state in their unpredictable relationship, surely?
Chiri brought her free hand to the front of her mouth, where she huffed some hot air in attempts to make her face, raw and flushed by the frosty air, heat up a little. She listened carefully meanwhile, of course, and the comment from the other made her brows arch curiously. One could think, a woman like her was desensitized to gruesome things, but in truth, there was just never a point where she had any sensitization at all to begin with. âYour father? So, it was like thatâŚâ But, had he not been murdered? She thought to herself, wondering why of all things, his father would be found hanging like that, unlessâŚdid the killer try to make it look like a suicide? Clever. Her heart, however, fluttered with a sence of nostalgic fondeness, for the image of a hanged man, swinging from a tree branch trying to end his life, was one she associated with someone she loved. Â
She continued, ignoring that flutter. A sigh through her lips, and a tilt of the head as her gaze wandered around the snowy landscape again. âThis place doesnât sound too different to a forest back home, people go there to end their lives, there is so much myth behind it, so of course itâs become more of a tourist attraction more than anythingâŚrather ironic, yet not surprising.â
     ââmakes you wonder, doesnât it?â the memory of that rainy night had been buried six feet under, just like that man. his mind, twisting what led to all that. everything that happened in between, nothing but a blur. there were some days he claimed innocence, while others, sangwoo was convinced that what happened to his father had been his doing. his hands were stained with blood far before he lost it & took down the first girl. once he had crossed that line, there was no going back.
  âlike some pig hanging in a butchery.â whatever sentimentalism found in the idea of visiting the place where his fatherâs body was found was gone with that statement. his way of phrasing it, almost mocking the man for ending like that. he had so much to live for... but instead, he decided to drown his ineptitude with alcohol & took out his frustrations against the only family he had left. sangwoo couldnât even remember his grandparents & uncles, & perhaps, it was for the best. save them the shame of seeing how low his father had fallen. the more they walked. the closer they became to the river. the faint sound of water could be heard in between voices. âwhat a shameless way to die. displayed like some ragged doll for anyone to see...makes you wonder if those who visit just want an affirmation that theyâre better than those they find.â

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     his shift in attention to his phone didnât seem to bother her; it broke up some of the tension that her question had stirred up, and in a way, the distraction was welcomed. his teasing tone further eased up some of her stiffness, though at his question, her brow furrowed. âhaunted?â she repeats, her expression rather incredulous. âis your house haunted? is that why youâre asking?â
     she couldnât tell how serious he was despite his tone. some people really did enjoy the paranormal after all, and it wasnât like they really talked about this kind of stuff for her to really find out if it was one of his interests. âmm, i get the feeling youâre trying to scare me.â which honestly, worked. or at the very least, made her think twice. âiâm not really into that spooky shit. i donât know if i really want to take any any chances if youâre being serious.â
   well, âhauntedâ was a way of putting itâomitting the fact that it only seemed to occur for him. the oppressing feeling that that place possessed hadnât been mentioned by any other, but whether that was out of politeness or not, remained unclear. the voices he heard, the constant shouting of his name, only existed when he was on his own & his mind had no other ways to distract himself. he briefly wondered if she would hear it too.
 ââoh yeah, hadnât i mentioned it?â sangwoo feigned ignorance. his tone, too light, too playful to indicate there was no possibility that he was joking. especially with the way his lips curled upon seeing her reaction. he leaned his head against his palm & smile. although his eyes told a different story.
    âi suppose you donât know this... but my place was marked as a crime scene once.â the infamous case of over four years ago still cause murmurs among the few neighbours that were left. it made sense she wouldnât know, as he didnât speak much about himself in the first place, but this was a good moment to bring it up, he supposed. his expression turning more grim now that he had said as much. âmy parents... they were actually killed. the case was never solved after that & well... i was left with that house. it must be why it feels haunted. my parents never got their justice.â
   Sinking into his seat, Bum refused to look up in the blondâs direction. The possibility of seeing his expression would only make or break him. Genuine disgust with himself only made him feel worse about everything. It was true, he should at least explain himselfâ but what was being poked at only made his chest feel tight, his palms clammyâ the poor mind of his feeling stuck in those momentsâ the hot, painful moments of his past. Hesitantly, he gazed up at the intimidating other, giving a soft sigh in defeat.
    â Uhâ I meanââ Biting his lip in worrisome manner, he looked down once moreâ dark locks shifting more in his face while his delicate hands fumbled over another in his lap, anxiously.    â Iâm just not sure youâd be so interested hearing about my family lifeâ itâs kind of pathetic.â
   how irritating. just when he believed they were taking a step into the right direction, it shifted almost abruptly, leaving him testing his patience as he had to listen to the jumble coming from the otherâs mouth. his thumb pressed against the handle of his spoon, adding pressure into it as he tried to keep himself from snapping. better the utensil than bum, who would only make him more frustrated after lashing at him. how could someone press all the wrong buttons each time?
    his eyes almost rolled. however, he kept his stare upwards. looking at that meek expression would only enrage him, so he took it upon himself to take a deep breath & let his shoulders slump down. it was too early still to result to violence so quick. âif i wasnât interested, i wouldnât ask, idiot. why else did you think i would?â
   why are all these light yagami blogs following me. thereâs nothing to see here.
   â We couldnât afford it, and because my grandmother preferred it was better that way,â His utensil clinked lightly against the bowl, bringing him out of his deep thought on the subject. It was true, as Yoon Bum remembered his grandmotherâs wordsâ better him than me. Not that it changed much of what he thought of his grandmother in the first place, he could see through it all she despised him as much as everyone else. He was the problem child, after all. Made her life harder. It only made getting beat half to death almost numbing.
   It was the question heâd been avoiding that made Yoon Bum tense up, stiffing his hold on his utensil before dropping it, a loud clank as metal met porcelain making Bum flinchâ a muttered apology left his hollowed self before pushing the bowl away from him.
   â He probably believed so since a young ageâ my grandmother too.â A sick feeling formed in the pit of his stomachâ he felt dirty, disgusting. No matter how much scrubbing he could do would wash away this filth, so why couldnât he accept it.    â I donât like this, can we talk about something else ? â
    there it was againâwhenever he tried to get bum to speak, to tell him more about his life at home & what led him here, he shut down. the loud clank that his utensil made against the porcelain, making sangwoo glance down to the table to see if any of the food had spilled as a consequence of it. the other was fortunate that it didnât, because sangwooâs irritability was starting to grow. a long, sharp sigh being let out from parted lips.
  ââoh, iâm sorry.â his voice was dripping in sarcasm. the spoon that had been stirring his food around was clicked against surface. if he added any more force to it, the bowl could crack. âam i being intrusive by asking, mr. breaking-into-your-house?â he had to be kidding. he should be excited that sangwoo cared enough to ask about him, to listen to whatever he had to say, but instead, bum was hiding things away from him. he was keeping secrets that would plant a seed of doubt in the blond. his head, ever so slightly tilting to the side. âshouldnât you want me to know everything about you? you know... since you claim to love me & all that.â
Gingerly holding hands when walking side by side, it was not any more familiar at that point than kisses and hugs had become, a frightening comfort in touching someone else that haunted her before she realized it was there. Squeezing back, her small hand wrapped snuggly in his hold, she felt something sentimental prick at her heart. It only stung deeper when he looked at her, speaking despassionately and yet so emotional somehow.
âI wouldnât say scary, itâs more likeâŚthrilling.â Answering truthfully, her mind couldnât helpt conjuring those images from the news of blood dying the white snow, vibrant red coagulated like a crust, still clinging to the rotten remains â to be the one to find those corpses, surely that wouldâve been quite interesting, like a trasure hunt even. As they walked, in spite of the image she projected of feminity and graceful pose, her step was firm, heavy and sturdy, a perfectly capable hiker as she has promised to be. Branches, leaves and maybe other things cracked and crunched underneath her feet. âI donât think itâs too different than walking through historical landmarks, you know? Blood being spilled is just part of history, itâs kind of romanticâŚbut I donât suppose thatâs what you had in mind, did you?â Â
   there was no doubt she had a peculiar way of looking things. out of all the ways that there were to describe it, romantic wasnât among the top. anyone else wouldâve looked at him with confusion, fear or wonder as to why he would bring up such gruesome thought in what was supposed to be a romantic getaway, but her lack of reaction only proved one thing, & that was getting used to his antics. it wasnât the first time, nor would it be the last he did or say something that was beyond questionable, but either she had too much faith he wouldnât turn out to be a monster that would take advantage of her, or didnât care regardless. would she still feel her heart flutter if his hands were wrapped around her neck? the blond wondered. a small smile forming upon his lips as he turned briefly to look at her. their breaths, almost visible by the cold.
    ââwell, i didnât really think of it as romantic. more like... exciting.â mostly to see her reaction, sangwoo thought, to see if she was just as desensitized as himself & learn as to why. why wouldnât she flinch when his hand squeezed too tightly around hers? the further they ventured into the woods, the less likely was for anyone to see them. he could take advantage of her & dump her body with the rest of them, & she didnât seem none the wiser. instead, basking in whatever affection he had to offer. âmaybe we will find a dead body, hanging by a tree like my father.â

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   The questions only turned Bumâs small smile into a neutralâ somber expression as he stared down and played with the stew in the bowl. Those kind, warm memories quickly turning cold as his mind played back those cruel days. The screaming, the hitting, the touchingâ the blamingââ- The words of âuselessâ and âmistakeâ coming from the lips of those who were supposed to teach him betterâ be there to hold him, and get him help. Unfortunately, help never cameâ as his current predicament only resulted in the karamatic problems heâd caused with his obsessive needs.
    â She wasâ yeah. Sheâd come to the police station with my uncle sometimes, or the hospital. Usually it was my uncle, though. â Stirring the contents in the bowl, Bum remained expressionlessâ the numb feeling he had for them nowâ he wondered if they even cared heâd gone missing. Probably not, no one did.
   â I donât know if she intended for me to be⌠someoneâs âwifeâ. I guess she felt bad for me being so uselessâ and hoped with some kind of skills I wouldnât beâŚâ In a situation such as this. It didnât matter, thoughâ not anymore. The kindness from Sangwoo made all the pain he endured worth it in the endâ he was safer here than heâd ever be back with his uncle.
  with every answer, came more questions. at this point, he shouldnât even be surprised upon hearing the words âpolice stationâ or âhospitalâ as if they were part of his day-to-day life before ending here. he couldâve asked, but didnât. not when he had seen first hand the possible reasons for that. the cuts across his wrists & the fact that he was sitting across of sangwoo, after breaking into his house, giving him an idea as to how his life used to be.
   ââ& they didnât lock you somewhere? itâs clear somethingâs not right with you.â the irony wasnât lost on him, but at least sangwoo would pretend to be someone decent outside of these wallsâperfecting the mask he wore in the presence of those who knew him, with only bum seeing what rest underneath & lived to be able to tell. not like heâd let go of him any soon, though.
   sangwoo had a bad habit of playing around with his food. his spoon, used to stir his food around until finally, he picked a piece & shoved it into his mouth. at least, it tasted as good as it smelled, even if the presentation wasnât idea. he supposed... that same analogy could apply to his company whom he stared at with those vacant eyes. âthat doesnât answer my question. did she know you had a thing for men?â a pause. his stare ever so briefly shifting away from bum to look down at his plate, while he picked some more. âmaybe... you uncle?â
   He was unsure. If this was what he wanted, why didnât it feel like it ? A quiet sigh left him, before fumbling with the hem of his shirt in an anxious manner. The constant reality he faced of never being good enoughâ almost numbing at this point. The smaller of the two sat quietly in nervous manner, chewing his lip as he debated whether telling him would be worth it.    â Itâs umâ Budae jjigae. Itâs okay I guess, I hope itâs enough. â
   The sweet memories of cooking with his grandmother gave temporary happiness, as he stared quietly at the table for a moment, almost uncertain if it was better just telling him more of his life before him. He had so many questions he wanted to ask the taller figure, but always feared the outcome. Eventually, he decided it had been best to say, as it wasnât as terrible as the other things from his past.   â ââ My grandmother and I would always cook together, if my uncle wasnât around. It was nice. She taught me a bunch of cool stuff in the kitchen. â
   only a hum came of his lips as he served the stew into the two porcelains bowls that he had drawn from the cabinet. even if he wasnât looking, he could tell that the memory was a happy one judging by the tone the other at that moment. his responses, usually timid & short, spoken in such an anxious manner, were different to this. a smile undeniably forming upon his lips & caught just in time for when the blond settled both bowls & utensils down onto the table. his own lips mimicking that smile in his amusement.
  ââso you lived with your grandmother & uncle? i suppose, after you became an orphan, no?â what little information sangwoo had over the other was enough for him to make assumptions from. he pulled a bottle of juice out of the fridge to set in the middle of the table along with two glasses, pouring each of them before he finally joined the other by sitting right across of him. his expression being one of curiosity. âdid your grandma know about your stalking habits? or that you have a thing for men? is that why she taught you? was she teaching you how to be a good wife?~â