Chapter Text
“No, no... this can’t-”
Sung choked back tears and took in quick, shallow breaths. Yellow blood coated his fingernails from where he had scratched himself raw, looking for some way to ground himself. He stared at his wet hands which glistened in the pink sunlight. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t understand. Every moment that passed made his lungs and throat ache, made it harder to breathe or even stay conscious. He felt like there was an icy grip around his neck, but his body and mind felt like they were on fire. His heart hammered away in his chest and felt like it might burst.
Celysts weren’t supposed to die. They were celestial beings made of stardust and sunlight that lived for eons upon eons. But if that was true, then why was everyone he knew dead? Countless bodies laid dormant on the streets, in their houses, everywhere. Sung’s whole world was gone, and he was only a child. If he was only a child, then why hadn’t he been taken as well? Was this his punishment for not being like the others? For not being able to sit still or pay attention as well as the other kids? Sung stood on shaky legs, wiping the blood off of his hands and onto his white shirt. He fidgeted with the hem of it, pulling it up to wipe the tears from his eye as he stumbled through the empty town. Realizing after a few minutes that it was now ruined with his own bright yellow blood, he removed the offending article, struggling to pull it over his pointed ears and mop of messy brown hair.
He hugged the cloth close to his chest as he stood in his simple yellow and black suit. The other kids had made fun of him for always wearing his suit, but he thought it was cool; something deep inside of him sparked to life when he thought about space travel, so why was it so strange to wear his space travel suit just because he liked it? More tears aimlessly spilled down his dirty face, mixing with the blood from his scratches as he thought of those kids. Those kids were all gone now, and they didn’t deserve that, even if they had bullied him for being weird. Sung frowned, remembering when his worst bully had called his suit a bad word. Boring. The sickening word danced on the tip of his tongue, daring him to speak it into existence. He didn’t know what it meant, but he’d been taught that it meant something bad. Now that he thought about it, he’d heard the adults whispering something that sounded like it after the first people started dying. Boredom? That was it. The word that accompanied shocked gasps and silent tears. The word that was whispered around his flight classes whenever someone else had died.
“The boredom got them too; it isn’t safe here.”
Sung remembered the father of his classmate say one day when he came to pick her up. Her family was found the next morning. Boredom. That’s what people were calling this... this sickness, and it just kept spreading. That was it... Sung had to leave.
“...Mommy? Daddy? Stone?” Sung called to the empty house, knowing a response likely wouldn’t come. He tiptoed through the silent building, making his way to his room.
“S-Sung?” A quiet voice came from behind him.
“Stone!” Sung cried turning on his heel, a smile finally spreading on his face as he saw his brother still standing. “Stone, let’s get out of here!”
“Get out of here? What do you me-“ Stone’s words were cut off by a coughing fit. His brother doubled over, leaning against the wall.
“Stone! Are you okay?!” Sung was instantly worried for Stone’s wellbeing, trying his best to help him to stand.
“I’m... Sung, I’m sorry,” Stone gasped. “I don’t think I’m going to make it...”
“No.” Sung said firmly. “We’re going together. I’m going to get you help!” He guided Stone to the door of his room and leaned him against the wall. “I’ll only be a minute.”
Sung rummaged through his belongings, throwing whatever he thought could be useful into a bag on the floor beside him. Snacks, some water, extra clothing. He threw his dirty shirt aside and tied the bag shut, slinging it over his shoulder. Stone was pale and sickly, that much Sung could tell at first glance. But he had hope that his brother could stay strong, like he somehow had. Sung ran to the door as Stone covered his mouth just in time for another coughing fit.
“Let’s go.” Sung whispered and Stone responded with a gentle nod.
Stone’s condition didn’t get any better as the two young boys made their way to the ship bay. Stone’s dark hair clung to his sweaty forehead and the glow of his starlike freckles seemed to pulse and fade as he stumbled along with his brother’s support.
“Sung...?” Stone coughed again, letting go of Sung’s arm as he fell behind. Before Sung could even turn around to look, Stone fell into a rather violent coughing fit and retched.
Yellow.
“Stone!” Sung yelled in panic, unsure of what to do.
He could only watch in heartbroken terror as his brother coughed up blood. Stone fell to his knees, the yellow liquid spilling from his mouth and staining his clothes. He gagged and continued coughing helplessly, more blood splashing to the ground. Too much blood. Stone grasped at his throat as if to stop the flow of blood, but to no avail. He sobbed, knowing there was nothing he could do at this point to stop his own demise, and that his own brother had to be there to watch. Stone could feel himself getting weaker, and the blood... the blood just wouldn’t stop coming. It felt like something deep inside of him had been set on fire, and the only thing his body could think to do was to purge.
“St-Stone...”
Sung dropped his bag as his legs buckled. He crumpled in on himself as his last bit of hope shattered with the image of his brother bleeding out. There wasn’t anything he could do for him. There were no doctors left alive in the town and there was no way he could get help to come to them. Sung watched in stunned silence as Stone used the last bit of his strength to crawl his way over, though it was more dragging himself over than crawling at this point.
“Sung... please, live. For me...”