#io.jp

Honestly, he’d been hurt much worse than this. Though the gash was rather deep and the crimson liquid dripping from said wound on his leg startled some as they walked passed the teen. But, as always, Jisung wasn’t very concerned with their reactions; he was making his way to a familiar friends home in search of help. He appeared slightly dazed, plush lips were parted while he gently knocked among the elders door. 

He’d been fighting again, street fights brought in money for his family; when they were running low or nobody was buying their narcotics due to rivalry dealers it tended to help. Even though Mark told him over and over, to stop- and that they’d figure something out. Jisung just wanted to help out, sure he was the baby of the group but he hated being treated like it. He felt as if he held no position in the gang at all at times. 

The blue haired boy began chewing on his lip, a palm running up his left arm to push his sweatshirt sleeve up so his skin could be examined. There were bruises, a good handful of them. The adrenaline of the fight was beginning to wear off and the pain was settling in instead. He hoped the male was home, it was possible that his leg might need stitches.

Alright, it was true he wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place. Jisung had actually snuck into the venue to watch the fighters do a few simple skirmishes; it was a private event, people paid to be there yet the blue haired boy was sitting in the second row. It was extremely obvious he wasn’t meant to be there, his youthful appearance mixed with the fact he was sitting alone, without an adult, nor a pass around his neck. It was only a matter of time before someone caught him; yet it took the whole session until one of the bodyguards began to eye him. Jisung found it was his que to leave soon after the stranger began to approach him. Almost like something from a cartoon, the boy was jumping from his seat, running through the chairs and stands before he squirmed his way through a couple of different doors. He didn’t know where he was, or how to exit the arena. The boy was puzzled, heart thumping heavily due to the adrenaline rush from being chased. Somehow, he’d ended up in the locker rooms. Jisung stood in front of one of the maps on the wall, bringing out his notepad to start sketching it out; it’d be one hell of an escape if he pulled it off properly. But to his dismay, a palm rested on his shoulder causing the teen to jump. It was a natural reaction, and by habit he spun around to face the other, left hand dropping his notepad to reach for the purple handle switch blade in his back pocket. It made a click when it opened- and Jisung held it up and sideways in the direction of the others neck. A small noise of confusion left the boys lips before he retracted the weapon, seeing it was one of the fighters who’d caught him. He was shook, embarrassed- and didn’t know how to react. He was positive he was going to get in trouble for sure now.