Chapter Text
[ FOUR DAYS ]
Jongseob’s eyes traced words already engraved in his mind, the words on the page blurring as his head pounded. His heart slammed against his ribs as the memories of his parents flooded back.
He tried to push the thoughts away, tried to stop the tears from escaping his eyes, but his breath caught in his throat and he stuttered once, his hands dropping the bible as his knees raised to his chest.
His hands tangled into his hair, tugging at the strands as if pulling them out would pull the memories of parents out too: the memories of them scolding him, hitting him, yelling, all because he looked at a boy too long.
Disgusting. Vile. Sinner. Every word they said burned like the flames of the hell he belonged to inevitably would. But he wasn’t a sinner. He didn’t like boys, he didn’t… he… that night was a mistake. That… it never happened. He repented.
Jongseob wasn’t a sinner.
Right?
He didn’t like boys like filthy sinners did. He liked girls, like a normal boy should. Jongseob was a normal boy. Jongseob is a normal boy. Because he didn’t like boys. He doesn’t like boys.
Jongseob felt his stomach churn and he shoved himself up as quickly as he could, rushing to the bathroom in the hallway. He crashed through the door, falling limp against the toilet as he began to vomit. But… this time.. he didn’t see any normal puke. He saw blood.
Jongseob’s eyes widened as he flushed the toilet and pushed himself up as fast as his body would allow, running to his room where he searched through dozens of notebooks, diaries, textbooks, but none of them had what he was looking for. His vision blurred slightly as his brain thrashed around in his skull, aching from searching through the multitude of books.
Something had to have an answer. Jongseob was convinced that something would have the answer. Somewhere, out in the world, there had to be an answer. This couldn’t be some mystery, some coincidence that would become a stupid cold case in thirty years. There had to be a reason… right…? Something… anything… he couldn’t live peacefully without an answer. He couldn’t rot and die alone in his bedroom without something to put his racing mind at ease.
Jongseob went through book after book after book and found nothing that helped, nothing that clued him in, so he reached for his phone.
‘Why am I puking blood?’
The phone gave no answer that would benefit Jongseob, so he looked through site, after site, after site. And yet, he didn’t find anything. Sure, it could be one of the things listed, but his other symptoms didn’t match up enough for it to make any sense.
Jongseob crawled onto his bed, curling up as he cried softly into the pillow.
[TIME IS UP. RELEASE PROTOTYPE 0-002.]
Taeyang stared in disgust at the mushroom pizza on the lunch tray in front of him.
“Seriously? Mushrooms on pizza? Ugh, gross…”
Keeho nodded beside Taeyang as he picked up his tray and dumped it into the trash can beside the lunch table. “Mushrooms are gross, period. Not only on pizza but just… in general.”
Taeyang reached to pick off one of the mushrooms, wincing the second it touched his hand.
“F-fuck!” Taeyang exclaimed, pulling his hand back quickly as he stared at his now bleeding finger, “W-what the– Jesus, did they put acid in the mushrooms or something?!”
Shota leaned forward, examining what seemed to be a burn. He squinted slightly, glancing up only as Jongseob passed the table. He looked different today. Exhausted. Maybe hurt? Shota felt a pang of worry but ignored it as he turned back to Taeyang’s bleeding finger.
Taeyang stood up abruptly, mumbling something about going to the nurse. Keeho quickly scrambled for his things and shoved himself up, running to catch up with Taeyang. ‘They’re like two peas in a pod… if one of the peas was annoyed by the other.’, Shota thought. Wherever Taeyang went, Keeho wasn’t far behind.
The bell rang and everyone began to leave the cafeteria. As Shota walked through the halls, Jiung fell into step beside him.
“He’s kinda weird,” Jiung snickered.
Shota did nothing but raise an eyebrow at the other, tilting his head slightly.
“You know, that freak, Jongseob?”
Shota’s expression returned to being blank, though he couldn’t deny the slightest bit of anger that bubbled inside him at Jiung’s words.
Shota finally spoke, his voice measured and soft.
“He’s not a freak,” Shota said simply.
Jiung blinked a few times, caught off guard, before laughing loudly.
“You seriously think that the ‘star student’ and ‘God is great’ kid, isn’t a freak?” Jiung spoke between laughs.
Shota’s jaw clenched, his muscles tensing slightly before he spoke through gritted teeth.
“Jongseob isn’t a freak. Plus, you don’t even know him.”
Jiung laughed again, “And you do?”
Shota, resisting the urge to punch Jiung right then and there, instead went into their shared class that conveniently had Jongseob as well.
At some point during the lesson, Taeyang and Keeho returned to the class and sat with the group. Taeyang got his finger bandaged, but the nurse couldn’t give him a proper explanation as to what had happened with his hand.
There was a small break in the lesson for the students to go get things, use the bathroom, etc. That left Jongseob, the group, and three other kids.
Suddenly, there was a scream, a crack, and then… blood? It covered the window, splattered across the hall– it was everywhere. The three kids ran, jumped out the window and went God knows where. Jongseob stared at the window, his chest heaving with each ragged breath he took.
He had an idea of what was happening, but no clue how to help. His gaze frantically searched the room as if it would do anything. His hands shook in his lap, sweat dripping down his face, breathing becoming shaky, uneven. He brought his hands up in an attempt to pray for safety, and that’s when he heard it. More cracks, screams, and then the door handle jiggling.
Jongseob shoved himself up, quickly moving to the door and holding it shut, followed by Shota and Intak. Keeho got up to help, leaving Taeyang and Jiung in the corner of the room.
Jongseob fell against the door, desperately trying to hold himself up against it, but it was clear he was struggling.
“Jiung! Taeyang! Help, now!” Shota’s voice rang through the small classroom.
Taeyang quickly got up and attempted to help, but Jiung stayed back.
“Jiung, I swear to fucking god!” Shota yelled, watching as Jiung rolled his eyes.
“We don’t even know what’s out there. I’m sure you…” Jiung counted the people at the door before continuing, “five have it figured out, yeah?”
“No– fuck, Jiung! Jongseob is going to collapse, we need you over here now!” Shota yelled, half desperate, half angry.
“Fine, fine…” Jiung rolled his eyes and finally walked over, pushing himself against the door.
Jongseob fell, quickly being caught by Shota who guided him to the corner of the classroom.
“Are you- are you okay?” Shota asked carefully, holding Jongseob upright by his shoulders.
“...Yeah. But…”
Shota tilted his head, waiting for Jongseob to continue.
“I saw… what happened at lunch. With Taeyang.”
Shota raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with this?”
Jongseob took a slow breath in before speaking.
“I think… I think I know what’s happening.”