Archive of Our Own

“It isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

Taehyun could finally lift his head from his lap, clenched hands white and trembling, and look over at Kai, who had once again set his gaze on the sky. A faint smile still painted his lips, but it wasn’t the same carefree and excited one he wore mere moments ago. This smile was laced with sadness and a hint of longing. Taehyun wondered what he was longing for and if the answer was written in Kai’s eyes that were focused on the stars, long brown hair hiding them from Taehyun’s view. On the left end of the roof, Beomgyu had yet to lift his head from his knees, though he had managed to even out his breaths. Still, there was no doubt he was listening. He always listened.

Taehyun finally found it in him to reply to Kai, “I know it’s not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad.”

“You’re human,” Kai said. “Of course you’re allowed to feel bad. But that’s not really what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

Kai glanced over at Taehyun through his hair, and Taehyun could see a glimpse of his eyes: brown and warm and sparkling with the moon. He looked behind Taehyun at Beomgyu, who still wasn’t showing any indication of engagement. But he turned back to the sky anyway and said, “There has to be a balance in everything. Otherwise, everything will become nothing.” He looked over at Taehyun again with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You know?”

“I mean, yeah,” Taehyun said slowly. “But I don’t understand what that has to do with this.”

“In friendships, there has to be a balance of emotions,” Kai said, turning away again. “Obviously you can’t always be temperamental and confrontational, that’s just toxic and no one wants a friendship like that—actually that’s not even a friendship, that’s just a toxic relationship.” He lightly shook his head with a huff and continued, “But at the same time, you can’t always be happy-go-lucky and passive because then you’re not leaving room for growth within the friendship and it stays static. Growing means fighting, learning, understanding, while still being respectful, kind, and loving. People are always changing and evolving. Friendships are like that too—should be like that too.”

“What if it changes for the worse?” Beomgyu had lifted his head now, knees tucked against his chest as he trembled like Taehyun’s hands, staring at Kai with wide, watery eyes. “What if it evolves into a temperamental and confrontational relationship?” he continued. “What if the friendship is completely destroyed?”

Taehyun wanted to offer words of comfort, but his jaw was glued shut from the poisonous residue he had spat out mere moments prior. Instead, he could only look down at his hands again, nails stabbing into his skin.

The beat of silence that followed Beomgyu’s tear-filled question burned the air between them, hotter than the stars above. Kai turned away again, only this time he leaned back to reach his hand out towards the tiny specs of fire. “We’re all part of the universe,” he said, smile growing wider. “We have to be. We’re made of it. Everything here—the trees, the house, us—we’re all made of tiny specs of the universe.”

“Don’t get all philosophical on us again, Kai,” Beomgyu said, voice trembling as much as his body. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” Kai said. “Matter can never be created or destroyed. Only changed. Nothing is ever destroyed. It’s still there. It will always be there. It’ll just be different. It’ll have changed. For better or for worse… it will have changed.” With the same smile, he turned to Beomgyu again. “I can’t promise you friendships won’t ever change to temperamental and confrontational. They can, they have, and they will. But that doesn’t mean they’re destroyed. They just changed, and it happened to be for the worse.”

Beomgyu didn’t respond, instead turning away from Kai to rest his chin on his knees.

“Where are you even going with this, Kai?” Taehyun asked. “If friendships can change for the worse—if anything can change for the worse—what’s even the point in maintaining balance?”

“It’s simple really,” Kai said, and at that Taehyun looked up again. Kai was back to facing him and still wearing the same smile, he shrugged. “So you can be happy.”

There was no room to say anything more as Kai’s watch began to beep. His face lit up completely, carefree and excited, as he stood and rushed over to the right end of the roof where he pulled open the door leading into the house. “Yeonjun! Soobin! It’s starting! Hurry!”

Out of his peripheral vision, Taehyun watched Beomgyu slowly shuffle over to his side, silently sitting beside him as he took feverish glances towards the door. Taehyun, meanwhile, was doing everything in his power to not look—even as he heard Yeonjun whine about leaving his precious gingerbread unattended and Soobin call him overdramatic over Kai’s laughter. He was just grateful that it was Kai who sat on his other side as all five boys took their seats on the roof and stared up at the sky expectantly. Kai practically bounced in his spot, grinning the widest he'd grinned since they arrived at his family’s summer house three days ago.

“Stop jumping so much, you’re gonna fall off the roof,” Yeonjun said, chuckling softly as he placed a hand on Kai’s knee.

“I know I’m beautiful, but the sky is more beautiful so why don’t you focus on that?” Kai retorted. Yeonjun tsked.

“What a brat,” he said, but he was still laughing under his breath as he turned back to the stars.

“I wish it could always be like this…” Beomgyu muttered. In the silence, everyone heard him.

“Like what?” Soobin asked.

“Just the five of us. Together. Peaceful. Happy.” He couldn’t help but look over at his friends to ask, “We are happy, right?”

“The happiest,” Yeonjun affirmed with a nod.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Kai said. “I think the five of us together are stronger than gravity.”

“That’s a bold claim,” Taehyun said.

“Don’t believe me?”

“Hey, you’re the space expert, not me. If you say it, I’ll believe it.”

“Then look. Up.”

And as all five boys set their focus on the night sky, they watched countless beams of light shoot across the twinkling mass, burning bright over the irises of their eyes. Any tension was forgotten as they watched the stars travel through the universe in a stunned, blissful silence, ever-changing on their own.

“Gravity is what keeps the universe together,” Kai said. “But no matter how strong gravity is, it can’t stop the matter it’s holding together from changing. But…” He let out a shaky sigh. “We can still wish that it will, right?” All four boys watched as Kai closed his eyes, the oversized sleeves of his bright blue hoodie billowing in the cool night air. “So tonight, I wish that nothing will ever change us. I wish we’ll be together forever.”

In high school, Yeonjun had taken a Buzzfeed quiz to see which flower he was most like instead of doing his computer science final. He got a daffodil. So that’s what Soobin burned.

He had immediately gone to the flower shop after the service to buy the daffodils, his parents simply assuming he was gathering Yeonjun's favorite flowers to honor him. They had fallen asleep a long time ago, leaving Soobin to wander the halls of his childhood home aimlessly until it was time. His parents had insisted he come stay with them while he took a break off school, even offering housing to Taehyun and Beomgyu. They had both declined, however; Taehyun opting to stay at the dorms while Beomgyu bunked with his brother.

Soobin was glad. He knew they couldn't sleep either. It would've made this a whole lot harder.

The moment the clock struck 2:17, Soobin rushed back to his room and grabbed the daffodils off the desk. Not even bothering to throw on a hoodie or any sort of footwear, he set out into the backyard with the flowers in his left hand, his phone in the right, and a familiar weight in his pocket. It was pitch black and much too cold to be out without a sweater—much less barefoot—but Soobin ignored the goosebumps that rose on his arms and the sudden breeze that seeped through the thin fabric of his joggers. He trudged through the grass, not even flinching at the sharp pinches of the pebbles lodged within the dirt, until he reached the darkest corner of the yard by the fence where the dirt had been overturned. He had dug a similar spot for Kai in the opposite corner of the yard, grass plucked out to expose the dry dirt now mixed with the month-long-old ashes of the red dahlias Kai picked the first day at the summer house. Now in the newly dug spot for Yeonjun, Soobin twisted the stems of the daffodils into the ground before bringing out the lighter from his pocket and waiting, watching his phone sat beside him.

2:23. The time Yeonjun got his quiz results.

He clicked the lighter by the yellow petals and watched them ignite.

Smoke curled up from the smoldering flowers, red and orange dancing across the yellow as Soobin sat back and stared with the same blank look he’d been wearing ever since he got back from the Huening family’s summer house one month ago. The flames danced across his irises, dull eyes reflecting the brilliant light of the daffodils turning into black ash and becoming one with the earth again.

Not destroyed. Just changed.

The numbers on his phone became irrelevant. The only thing that mattered was the burning matter shrinking in on itself before dropping to the dirt. Charred. Motionless. If Soobin placed these daffodils in water, the fire would be extinguished, but would the daffodils still try to sink anyway? Maybe they’d changed too much that putting out the fire would be useless. Maybe they’d rather change into seaweed. Or maybe they’d want to get as close to destroying themselves as possible because they allowed themselves to be changed by the flames. A burning hatred for themselves.

How much does one have to hate themselves to commit to destroying themselves?

By the time a dark pile of ash laid across the dirt, the first traces of the rising sun were flickering through the small gaps of the fence. Soobin’s hair matched the dirt and stuck in clumps against his forehead. The ashes were still warm as he leaned forward and scooped some up, letting it run through his fingers like sand. The air was warming up too, light beginning to fill the backyard, but to Soobin it was still as dark and cold as it was when he first walked outside. The metal of the lighter in his pocket was cold and heavy and Soobin itched to pull it out and watch the fire dance across another piece of foliage.

Taehyun’s contact lit up his phone screen.

One hand found the lighter on its own accord, the other reached out and picked up the device. “Hello?” he said, voice raspy and as dull as his eyes.

Taehyun’s voice, meanwhile, was clear and loud and Soobin could make out subtle cries attempting to cut through his words that he thickly swallowed back just enough to say, “Come to the hospital. It’s Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu set hydrangeas on the casket at 10:11.

The heavy gray clouds shielded the night sky, descending an air of salty chills that shot down Yeonjun’s head to his toes buried in the sand. He twisted both feet deeper into the grains, feeling himself sink until he was up to his ankles in sand. His sneakers barely dangled from his fingers, arms limp beside him as he stared out at the sea.

He hated water. It was the same color as Kai’s favorite hoodie. He hated blue. He hated sand. It felt like the ashes he scattered throughout the park three weeks ago. He hated ashes.

Were there ashes scattered throughout the beach, he wondered? Was he currently ankle-deep in matter changed from one form to the next? Were they happy to be changed by flames? Or did they wish water would’ve put them out?

The heels of his sneakers slipped from his fingers. He didn’t even notice.

He should’ve put it out. It was his fire, his responsibility, he was the one making the fucking gingerbread and it burned along with everything else. How was he still here, as a living breathing human, able to stand and stare at an ocean and yet not use the abundance of water within it to put out the fire he started? How could he still be here after he watched everything that mattered to him burn to a crisp? Why was he still here? Why could he still be here?

How and why didn’t he burn to a crisp along with everything else?

Yeonjun lifted his left foot, feeling the bits of sand that had once securely wrapped around his ankle easily slip away, rolling down the arches of his foot and collecting on the shore once more. His foot stayed suspended in the air for a moment, unsure, before taking a step forward. He did the same with his right foot, raising it and pausing for just a moment before stepping forward. He didn’t look back at his footprints or his sneakers or the streetlights illuminating the empty parking lot. His gaze was locked forward, on the sea, the surface of the water peaceful except for the small rippling waves that seemed to beckon him forward, rolling further onto the sand before retreating again. Back into the sea. Back into the expanse of ocean that blended into the darkened sky.

He wished he could go back in time.

Yeonjun stopped moving forward when the waves reached him, icy water wrapping around his ankles with a chilling whisper. Everything was cold. The air, the water, the tears that Yeonjun didn’t even know had started to roll down his face, everything. His heart was cold. It froze the moment he pulled himself away from the scorching warmth of the fire and only watched as it devoured everything, only listened to Beomgyu’s frantic screams for Kai, only felt Soobin weakly gripping his shirt with his soot-stained hands as Taehyun laid motionless across his lap. He only sat in the grass, smelling of smoke with black smears covering his exposed flesh, desperate eyes flitting throughout the house in search of a pop of color that wasn’t red or orange or yellow. He wanted a pop of blue.

And for a moment, just for a moment, he saw it through the inferno behind the living room window.

The last of the meteor shower passed above their heads, and the pop of blue succumbed to the red, orange, and yellow. It emerged black not long after.

Kai was dead not long after he made his wish, and it was all Yeonjun’s fault.

How fitting, he thought, that in the three weeks that had passed since four out of five came back from the summer house he only felt cold. Pure ice pumping through his veins, frozen solid around his heart, winter winds whistling throughout his very soul. He didn’t deserve warmth, he knew. He didn’t deserve the comfort of sunlight streaming across his face, providing him a beacon of light and dancing in golden wisps across his skin. His skin was riddled with scars now, but that wasn’t enough, he knew. He deserved worse. So much worse. He didn’t deserve warmth, he didn’t deserve light, he didn’t deserve happiness.

Yeonjun deserved nothing but cold.

His clothes grew heavy around his thin body as he followed the way the waves rolled, allowing them to pull him forward as he slowly trudged his way through the sandy grounds of the sea. There was a moment when the ocean floor dipped, and Yeonjun sputtered as his face became half-submerged. He launched himself up as he spat out water between coughs, blinking furiously with the splashes he caused. It all burned his eyes, irritated the cuts along his torso, tongue becoming laced with salt. It was the coldest he’d ever felt.

It was perfect.

Yeonjun floated, blinking quickly to make out the blurry horizon. He tried to tell where the sky ended and the sea began, but he couldn’t. It seemed endless. No one would be able to tell.

Taking in a deep breath, Yeonjun squeezed his eyes shut and let himself sink, waiting until his lungs began to burn before forcing his eyes open and feeling them begin to burn. He couldn’t see anything under the murky depths no matter how hard he tried to focus. The only thing he could make out was his own hair floating around his head, the pure black strands resembling nothing but the soft ripples of the water. The water. It seemed endless. No one would be able to tell.

Yeonjun pushed himself to the surface with a gasp, the burning sensation of his irritated eyes and cuts the closest thing he’d felt to warmth in three weeks. Above him the clouds began to shift, and Yeonjun could just barely make out the shape of the moon. His eyes remained as bright as the clouds as he flipped himself onto his back, staring up at the slowly emerging moon and giving himself up to the will of the waves.

Yeah. This was perfect.

The water completely soaked his clothes now, seeping into his bones, his blood, his heart, completely weighing him down. Kai said the strongest force in the universe was nuclear force. He was wrong. The clouds were almost gone, more and more of the moon’s light shining upon the water and Yeonjun. Yeonjun didn’t deserve the moon’s light. Only the water’s cold.

The last of the clouds rolled away from the moon above him, and Yeonjun let his body fall under the icy waters. Not even the moon’s light shining upon the cold surface could catch a glimpse of him. It wasn’t until he returned to the sand that light shone upon him once again.

But the early morning sunlight didn’t change a thing.

Beomgyu had been in the hospital for three weeks, but it was only Soobin’s second time visiting him.

When Taehyun had first called him the morning after Yeonjun’s funeral, he had merely responded with an, “I’ll be right there,” hoping Taehyun was too caught up in his own distress to notice the way his voice trembled. Still, his blank expression never broke, and his parents were shaken awake by their son staring at them with unfamiliar dark eyes. “The hospital,” he said simply. “Beomgyu.”

His father drove with pure white knuckles while his mother sat beside him in the backseat, holding his hand as she prayed through tears. “Please, God, please, don’t take Beomgyu away too,” she begged. “Please, God, don’t let my son lose a third friend, please.”

Over the hum of the engine, Soobin could hear his father muttering a similar prayer, slipping in his own, “How the fuck is this even happening? What did these kids ever do wrong?”

All Soobin could do was look out the window and wonder if he’d be attending his third funeral that fall.

They found Taehyun slumped in a chair by the emergency room, head in his hands and silver hair shielding his face. Soobin’s mother was quick to rush forward and practically collapse into the chair beside him, Taehyun jolting up at the movement before burying his face into her shoulder as she pulled him into an embrace. Soobin’s hand wrapped around the lighter again as he inched closer to Taehyun, his father’s hand on his shoulder guiding him all the way. Looking closer, Taehyun wasn’t crying, but his exhausted red eyes said that he had been. He pulled away from the embrace as Soobin approached and though Soobin’s mother was the one who asked what happened, Taehyun answered to Soobin.

“He was at the house too. I got there right as he jumped.”

Soobin’s hand around the lighter turned as white as his father’s when he was driving.

“Ilsang’s back there with him now,” Taehyun said, gaze anxiously flitting towards the door to the patient wing. “He was the first one I called.”

“Is he okay?” Soobin’s father asked. Soobin wondered which brother he meant—Beomgyu or Ilsang or both.

It didn't seem to matter. Taehyun just shook his head with a heavy exhale. “Are any of us really okay?”

Soobin ignored the way all three of their gazes fell onto him for a split second. He only focused on the door behind which Beomgyu laid and the cold metal of the lighter within his grasp.

His mother stepped to the side on the phone, speaking to both Yeonjun and Kai’s parents in a quiet, sorrowful voice. “Yes, Taehyun is okay. Ilsang’s with Beomgyu right now. No, we don’t know how he is. Taehyun called Soobin and we all decided to come. They were at the house. He didn’t tell us why he was there. Beomgyu was attempting suicide. Taehyun saw him jump. Yes, Soobin is okay. No, he hasn’t cried. No, he’s still acting the same.”

Soobin pretended not to listen and he could tell Taehyun was doing the same, his hand limp in his. There was something dark under Taehyun’s fingernails. Soobin wondered if it was dirt or soot or ash or something else he didn’t want to think about. His father had long given up trying to pry answers out of Taehyun, who was now slumped silent in his seat, instead keeping his eyes on his wife’s back as she paced back and forth along the front wall.

The doors to the patient wing opened and out walked a nurse alongside Ilsang, who towered over her as he pointed to Taehyun and Soobin. The nurse nodded and she trailed behind Ilsang as he approached. Soobin heard his mother quickly say into the phone, “Ilsang’s here. Gotta go. I’ll update ASAP,” before she rushed over.

“He fractured his ribs,” Ilsang said, voice wobbling and eyes the dimmest Soobin’s ever seen. “Nearly broke both his legs and got a concussion, too. But he’s alive. Highly medicated, but alive. He fell asleep a few minutes ago.”

“What did he say to you?” Taehyun asked, straight and rigid in his seat. Ilsang’s breathing stuttered.

“That everything has been destroyed, so he should be destroyed too.”

Soobin’s father let out a cough. He licked his lips and blinked rapidly. “What are you going to do?”

“Whatever I can,” Ilsang said firmly, furiously wiping his eyes with a set face and nod. “I’m not… I’m not losing him like we lost our parents.” Soobin’s mother went to hug him, but he shook his head and stepped back. She stepped back too. Ilsang turned to Taehyun and Soobin, “You can go see him if you want. Again, he’s asleep, so just be mindful.”

Taehyun nodded and tugged on Soobin’s hand as he stood. He followed without protest, hand sneaking into his pocket as the nurse led them both through the patient wing and pulled back the curtains surrounding cot 11.

Beomgyu’s hair was splayed out, the dark black a stark contrast to the bright white pillowcase. Bandages were wrapped tightly around his head. The thin blanket draped over his torso, but Soobin could easily picture the bandages wrapped around his ribs. Both his legs were secured with braces, wrapped with more bandages. He was asleep as Ilsang had said, but both his cheeks were wet, shiny from the overhead lights. Soobin didn’t even notice Taehyun had let go of his hand until he was at Beomgyu’s side, pushing his overgrown bangs back before resting his forehead lightly against his with a whisper.

“I’m so sorry…”

Soobin left. Taehyun didn’t notice. His parents and Ilsang didn’t notice. He left the hospital and entered his dad’s car, curled up in a ball in the backseat as he flicked the lighter on and off, eyes locked onto the small flame. The three words screamed and clawed at the walls in the very back room of his subconscious where he had locked them away one month ago. How time drags when you’re trying to forget.

Soobin flicked the lighter again and kept it on, watching the tiny fire sway. It was a small flame. It didn’t seem like it could do much harm besides a slight burn. But a small flame could turn into a raging inferno and change everything before you even knew what was going on.

None of them knew what was going on until it was too late.

Soobin flicked the lighter off. If only it had been that easy five weeks ago.

His parents couldn’t get him to go back into the hospital. Neither could Ilsang or Taehyun, whose eyes were more red than before. In the end, Ilsang headed back to his brother as Soobin’s parents drove Taehyun back to his dorm room. Of course they tried to convince him to stay with them, but Taehyun insisted he be dropped off at the dorms. The whole ride, Soobin didn’t speak or look any of them in the eye. He didn’t even uncurl himself to sit up properly in his seat, leaving Taehyun perched by the window with one arm draped over Soobin’s body to make sure he didn’t roll off. He thanked Soobin’s parents when they arrived at the dorm grounds, glancing over at Soobin once before simply squeezing his arm and hopping out.

Three weeks later, Soobin had expected to see him in Beomgyu’s hospital room. But when he slid open the door and stepped inside, he found it to be empty except for Beomgyu lying on the bed. He was asleep like last time except there was a significant decrease in bandages: no longer around his head or legs. His hair had grown, Soobin realized, grazing his shoulders and bangs falling over his eyebrows.

Ilsang had met him in the waiting room, saying he was glad Soobin felt comfortable enough to visit Beomgyu again, and led him up to his new private room. “He’s been seeing therapists,” Ilsang told him on the elevator ride up. “Grief counselors. It’s been slow progress, but progress nonetheless.”

Soobin made a note to tell his parents—who insisted when they dropped him off that he tell them everything about Beomgyu’s condition—that Beomgyu was making great progress in recovery before asking Ilsang, “Has he said anything about the fire?”

“Some,” Ilsang said. “Apparently he can’t remember much.”

Lucky.

“He did say you and Taehyun fought right before it happened.” Soobin’s hand shot into his pocket. “He said he only remembers feeling absolute dread and fear throughout the whole thing.” Ilsang glanced over at Soobin, oblivious to his stiffness. “You and Taehyun are okay now, though. Right?”

Soobin could only nod.

Ilsang left him in front of Beomgyu’s door with an, “If you need me, I’ll be in the cafeteria.” Soobin just nodded and listened to his retreating footsteps. Never mind the fact he didn’t know what to do in the room alone with Beomgyu—unconscious or not—or the fact he didn’t even know where the cafeteria was. In the hospital room with the only sound piercing the deafening silence being the steady beeps of the heart monitor, Soobin stood by the bathroom doorway with his gaze locked onto Beomgyu’s sleeping figure, wondering what else he remembered about that night, what else he knew, and if he was telling the therapists there everything or not. There were dark creases across his forehead Soobin could see under his bangs. They were nothing compared to the bags under his eyes or the downturn of his lips. Even asleep, he looked like he was in pain.

What was Soobin even doing there? Why had he given in to his parents’ insistence that he go see Beomgyu? There was nothing he could do for him, nothing he could say to him. He should leave. Find something to burn. If he happens to come across the cafeteria, he’ll ignore it and hope Ilsang doesn’t see him from inside. He turned to do just that.

The door slid open and Soobin was hit with the pungent scent of florals.

Taehyun’s eyes weren’t red or wet, but they were cloudy, brown morphing into black. His silver hair was electric, brighter than it had been three weeks ago. He held a bouquet of daisies, the white petals matching the hospital sheets.

“Hi,” he breathed.

“Hi,” Soobin said.

Taehyun stepped into the room and shut the door, shifting the bouquet in his arms before saying, “I didn’t think you’d ever come back here.”

Soobin shrugged. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Because that’s your friend,” Taehyun said. “You’d do anything for your friends.”

Soobin’s heart clenched, grip in his pocket becoming the tightest it's ever been as the three words buried within his subconscious broke free of the room they were trapped in, their screams taking over every inch of Soobin’s being as they rushed to the surface, breathing in the scent of flowers and sterilizer.

“Kai and Yeonjun.”

Taehyun froze, eyes widening as he brought the daisies closer to his chest. “W-What about them?” he stuttered.

Soobin’s face was as expressionless as ever, but every emotion imaginable was washing over him, crashing in relentless waves throughout his chest and to the hand that shook around the lighter. “They’re gone now.”

Taehyun’s lip wobbled and he bit down on it harshly as he averted his gaze, eyes becoming darker with each passing second. “I know.”

“They’re both dead.”

“They are.”

“They needed saving.”

“They did.”

“We did nothing.”

“We tried.”

“Not hard enough.”

“Maybe not.”

“We did everything.”

“Bin, you just said—”

“We did everything,” Soobin choked out, and Taehyun’s gaze shot up at the way every syllable trembled and cracked, a direct contradiction to Soobin’s blank face. The intensity of his stare made Taehyun look away again, and he stepped around him to be able to see Beomgyu. Soobin turned and watched his every move, and after simply staring at the bed for a while Taehyun turned back to Soobin.

“I said some terrible things to you,” he said. “I didn’t mean any of it. You’re one of my best friends, and I will love you unconditionally no matter what.”

Soobin swallowed. It was hard to. “I shouldn’t have said any of what I did,” he said. “I regret it every day. I regret that day every day.”

Taehyun nodded. “I do too,” he said. “I really…” His voice cracked and he let out a shaky breath, looking up at the ceiling as he blinked. “I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t know any of this was going to happen.”

“No one did,” Soobin said. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“How could we, really?” Taehyun said with a humorless laugh. “We’re not fortune tellers. We don’t know what else is going to happen, what else could happen.”

“I wish we did,” Soobin said. “Maybe things would be easier.”

“Maybe…” Taehyun whispered, stare falling to the floor. He laughed again. “I would like for things to be easier.” He looked over at Soobin, not crying but holding back tears. “I would like dealing with this guilt to be easier.”

Soobin couldn’t swallow or breathe anymore.

“Y’know,” Taehyun started, cradling the daisies in his arms as he gazed at them with a smile, “Beomgyu wished that it would always be the five of us, together and happy. Kai wished that we’d stay together forever. At the first funeral, Yeonjun wished we could go back in time. And just now, you wished we could tell the future.” He gently rubbed a petal between his fingers and sighed. “I should make a wish too.”

Soobin’s entire body was buzzing. His hand hurt. Taehyun was still smiling as he looked at him and said, “I wish I had known what I was starting. The fire—”

“Stop,” Soobin said. “Just stop, please.”

There was silence, but Soobin couldn’t even hear the heart monitor breaking it anymore. He couldn’t hear anything except his own ragged breathing and Taehyun’s gentle voice.

“You understand, right?”

Taehyun was no longer smiling, his stare as intense as Soobin’s had been mere moments ago. His eyes matched the brightness of the flower petals, milky with swirls of hazel that stared into Soobin’s dark ones knowingly. The breath Soobin took in was sharp but brought no air into his lungs. Taehyun seemed to glide over, eyes now as gentle as his voice as he intertwined his fingers with Soobin’s free hand.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure it’s okay.”

Taehyun placed the daisies in Soobin’s arms.

Yeonjun had driven them all to the summer house, pulling into the driveway at 5:53 PM. They had all clambered out of the car immediately, breathing in the scent of nature and sighing in relief as their joints popped. “I am never getting into that car again,” Beomgyu declared.

“How are you going to get home then?” Yeonjun asked, eyebrow raised.

“We’ll just leave him here,” Taehyun said. “More room for us.”

“And one less annoyance.”

“Hey!” Beomgyu said.

“Guys, let’s get all this shit into the house,” Soobin said, trying to hide his smile as he rummaged through the bags in the trunk. “It’s going to be dark soon.”

“Should we be going to a summer house when it’s fall?” Beomgyu asked. “I feel like I’m cheating at life.”

“You always cheat at Uno, so you should be happy about this,” Taehyun said, shoving a duffel bag at Beomgyu who stumbled back with a soft, “Oof!”

“I don’t cheat in Uno!” Beomgyu protested. “You guys just suck at it!” He suddenly smirked with a laugh and pointed at Soobin. “Especially that one.”

“I didn’t even do anything!”

“You were breathing.”

“I’m about to make you carry all this by yourself.”

“Do it,” Taehyun said.

“Hey!” Beomgyu cried.

“Kai!” Yeonjun called over the unnecessarily loud conversation as he continued to rummage through the trunk. “Your parents gave you the keys, right?” Yeonjun blinked after a moment when he got no response, and he stood back to look around. One, two, three, four heads including his. “Kai? Kai!”

“Where’d he go?” Beomgyu asked, clutching the strap of a duffel bag as all traces of amusement disappeared in a blink.

“I literally just saw him…” Taehyun muttered with a frown. Soobin slipped his phone out of his sweater pocket and clicked it on.

5:56.

“Guys! Look what I found!”

From the far side of the house, Kai came running, hair flopping around his smiling face as he waved something around in the air. “Christ, don’t run off like that!” Soobin said, lowering his phone as Kai arrived by the car again. “You scared us!”

Kai scoffed. “This isn’t a horror movie, guys. We’re not gonna disappear one-by-one because of a mysterious killer in a mask.”

“Please don’t put that thought in my head,” Taehyun shuddered.

“I am so jumpscaring you when I get the chance,” Beomgyu said.

“This is why we’re leaving you here.”

“Bruh—”

“Look it look it look it!” Kai said, bouncing excitedly as he shoved a handful of flowers in their faces. Bright green stems gave way to dark red petals, the crimson color striking against the luscious forest background. “Red dahlias! I’m so glad they finally bloomed!”

“You planted these?” Yeonjun asked with a smile.

Kai nodded enthusiastically, “Mhm! Back during summer vacation, my sisters and I got a bunch of random seeds and planted them! Not all of them bloomed, but these bloomed now! Lucky, right?”

“Very lucky,” Soobin said. Kai’s smile widened, and he pushed the flowers further in Soobin’s direction. With a smile as fond as the look in his eyes, Soobin took the cluster of dahlias and ran a finger over the petals. They were soft, delicate things that moved at even the slightest touch. He felt Beomgyu peer curiously over his shoulder, humming in approval.

“They’re pretty,” Taehyun said.

“They are!” Kai agreed.

“You got a vase for them?” Yeonjun asked. “If not, we’ll just find a cup or something.”

“We’ll find something,” Kai said. “They’ll be perfect decoration, don’t you think?”

“Perfect decoration,” Soobin said, handing them back to Kai. “Now let’s get a move on with these bags. Kai, you got the door?”

“Yup!” Kai said, fishing the jingling keys out of his back pocket before running off towards the porch, raising the dahlias in the air as he declared, “This is gonna be awesome!”

The five spent the first two days at the Huenings’ summer house messing around and relaxing, blatantly ignoring the emails from their university professors because as Beomgyu said, “That’s a problem for next week’s us.”

“You just love procrastinating, don’t you?” Yeonjun had asked.

“And cheating,” Taehyun added.

“I don’t cheat!”

Soobin and Kai merely looked between each other and laughed.

The morning of the meteor shower, Kai was practically bouncing off the walls, speeding up and down the halls like a little kid who had just consumed ten pounds of sugar. “How long has this child been awake?” Beomgyu asked, hair lightly swaying from the sudden breeze as Kai ran past him. He walked into the kitchen to find Yeonjun at the stove and Soobin slumped at the island.

“Bold of you to assume he ever went to sleep,” Soobin said. Beomgyu chuckled as he approached.

“Bin, did you even sleep?” he asked, patting down tufts of Soobin’s hair that stuck out of his head like hedgehog quills.

“Bold of you to assume I need sleep.”

“You called me ‘Junyeon’ when you sat down,” Yeonjun said.

“You look like a Junyeon, not my fault.”

“I’m calling you ‘Junyeon’ from now on,” Beomgyu smirked. Yeonjun raised a spatula towards him.

“Now listen here, you little shit—”

THUMP!

“Watch where you’re fucking going, dumbass!”

“Taehyun?” Yeonjun called, setting the spatula down and rushing out the kitchen. Beomgyu and Soobin followed.

“I’m sorry,” Kai was saying. Both he and Taehyun were sprawled on the floor of the hallway, right in front of the door to the bedroom Taehyun was staying in. Kai seemed so much smaller, curled in on himself with his back against the wall as he looked up through his hair at a seething Taehyun, who was glaring daggers at him. “I didn’t mean to run into you. I didn’t see you coming out.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Taehyun scoffed. “Not with all that ridiculous flailing you were doing. Honestly, what are you, four?”

“Tae, calm down,” Yeonjun said, kneeling beside him. “He didn’t mean to knock you down. He’s just excited about tonight.”

“Maybe he should find a more age-appropriate way to show it, then,” Taehyun snapped, shoving Yeonjun’s hand off his shoulder as he shot up.

“That’s how some people express excitement,” Soobin said, arms crossed as a sharp flare of irritation shot up from his chest. “Don’t be so judgemental on the way people express themselves.”

“Was I asking you?” Taehyun asked mockingly.

“Did I ask for an attitude?”

“Guys, don’t fight,” Beomgyu said quickly. “Tonight is supposed to be exciting. We should all be happy.”

“It’d be nice if someone let us be happy,” Soobin said, staring pointedly at Taehyun. He only rolled his eyes and harshly shoved past, grabbing his shoes from the entrance.

“Tae,” Yeonjun called. Taehyun didn’t respond. “Did your parents call again? Is that why you’re so—?”

“It’s none of your fucking business, Yeonjun,” Taehyun growled, throwing open the front door before slamming it shut again. The four who remained in the house listened to his stomps down the porch before they dulled as he reached the grass. Soon, they couldn’t even see him out the window.

“Where’s he even going?” Beomgyu asked, wringing his hands.

“He obviously needs space right now,” Yeonjun said gently, helping Kai to his feet. “If it really was his parents, it’s better to leave him alone for a while.”

“I thought they got the hint to stop calling him,” Beomgyu said, hands now clasped together. “Haven’t they messed with him enough?”

“Narcissists don’t know when to stop,” Yeonjun sighed, wrapping an arm around Kai’s shoulders as he instinctively settled in the crook of his neck. “All we can do is be there for him.”

“Yeah,” Kai agreed. “We’ll help him be happy again.” His eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and he raised his head to look at Yeonjun. “Hey, Junnie. Did you leave the stove on?”

“OH SHIT.”

Yeonjun ran. Kai laughed and ran after him. Beomgyu went to follow but stopped when he noticed Soobin still staring at the front door. “You good, Bin?” he asked, lightly nudging his foot.

Soobin jolted and shook his head, “Yeah yeah, sorry. Just tired.”

Beomgyu huffed. “And this is why we sleep.”

“I didn’t burn the pancakes!” Yeonjun declared from the kitchen, followed by Kai’s enthusiastic claps and cheers.

“Good,” Beomgyu called back as he grabbed Soobin’s hand and led him to the kitchen. “Otherwise, we would’ve had to eat you instead.”

“What?!”

“Actually never mind, you wouldn’t taste very good.”

“...I don’t know whether to take offense to that or not.”

Soobin spotted Kai’s red dahlias in a tall glass on the windowsill.

The rest of the day passed in a subdued atmosphere of carefree excitement, but the electric tinge of it in the air was there, a spark itching to ignite. Soobin sat in the living room with a book, listening in amusement to the various mini arguments, spontaneous dance battles, random screeches, and declarations of superiority that echoed throughout the house. They either left him smiling like an idiot or face-palming like an overworked single dad. Sometimes both.

They had all gathered in the living room for a game of Mario Kart when Taehyun returned, head low as he shuffled back into the house and slipped off his shoes. The game immediately paused when the door opened, and Yeonjun stood to bring him into a hug. Taehyun’s arms remained limp at his sides, but he visibly leaned into the embrace.

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun whispered. “I’ll make sure it’s okay.”

Soobin focused on the remote in his hands.

“We all need a pick-me-up,” Yeonjun decided once he retook his seat on the armchair next to the couch, Taehyun perching on the opposite one. “I brought shit for making gingerbread. What if I start baking after dinner?”

“Yes!” Kai and Beomgyu exclaimed. Soobin and Taehyun just nodded. Yeonjun smiled.

“Alright,” he said between laughs before smirking and turning back to the TV. “Now let me finish beating your asses.”

“Oh you wish,” Beomgyu retorted as the game started up again.

As the competitiveness and shouting returned, Taehyun curled up on the chair to watch. Soobin kept watching him out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t say a word. Even when the game ended with Yeonjun’s victory and Beomgyu’s demand for a rematch over Kai’s laughter, Taehyun still didn’t speak. Instead, he slipped back into his room.

“He doesn’t seem much better,” Beomgyu said worriedly.

“Gingerbread will help,” Kai said with a nod. “Gingerbread always helps.”

“I hope so…” Beomgyu muttered, staring down the hall.

Yeonjun shot a worried look in Soobin’s direction. Soobin could only shrug.

With the time creeping closer to midnight, the first batch of gingerbread cookies were in the oven and the five boys were following Kai with blankets draped over their arms as he led them to the roof. “Be careful coming up and down,” Kai said as he pulled the wooden ladder down. “The Huenings are not responsible for any injuries or deaths that occur on this property.”

“That’s one star off my Yelp review,” Taehyun said as Kai began to climb. He had brightened considerably since the Mario Kart game that was “totally rigged” (Beomgyu’s words), but he still hadn’t acknowledged Soobin at all. Not a comment, not a glance, not even an apology for their heated exchange that morning. Nobody else seemed to notice that something was off, leaving Soobin to silently sit in his own bubbling irritation.

Whatever. It didn’t matter, anyway.

The moment Kai pushed open the door, a rush of clean air swept over them, smelling of fresh grass and trees. They could already see the night sky: a purple-tinted black with billions of silver sparkles sprinkled across it.

The meteor shower hadn’t even started yet, but it was already beautiful.

The top of the roof was flat, making it easy for the five to traverse across it and lay the blankets down. “We’re making great time,” Kai declared happily, lifting his wrist to look at his watch. “It should be starting in about eleven minutes.”

“Why did we set up so early, then?” Taehyun asked from his spot on the blanket. Kai went to answer, but Soobin’s exasperated sigh caught his attention.

“You okay, Bin?” he asked, finding Soobin to still be standing by the door.

Soobin shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” Yeonjun said, frowning now as he stood from where he had sat beside Beomgyu to approach Soobin. “Are you scared? ‘Cause it’s okay if you are, I’m sure we can find some sort of—”

“It really doesn’t matter, Jun,” Soobin insisted, resting his hands on Yeonjun’s shoulders to keep him from coming closer. “I’m fine.”

“Soobin—” Beomgyu started worriedly.

“Cut the bullshit, Soobin,” Taehyun snapped. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Taehyun!” Kai exclaimed.

“Oh, so now you wanna fucking talk to me?” Soobin shot back, pushing past Yeonjun to approach Taehyun, who was glaring at him from the ground. “You wanna fight some more? Let’s fight some more. C’mon.”

“Guys—” Yeonjun tried to interfere, but Soobin shoved him back.

“No,” he said as Yeonjun stumbled with a gasp. “He wants to say something, let him say something.”

“Don’t push Yeonjun!” Beomgyu cried. “We’re on the roof!”

“I have nothing to say,” Taehyun said. “You’re the one acting like a desperate, overemotional drama queen. Say what’s bothering you or just admit you’re looking for attention.”

“Taehyun, that’s enoug—” Yeonjun tried again.

Soobin barked out a laugh, “Wow, that’s rich coming from the guy who lost it because Kai made him fall. Did it hurt that bad, Taehyun? Are you that pathetically weak that you can’t take a little fall?”

“Both of you, knock it off!” Kai yelled at the same time Yeonjun went, “You too, Soobin! Enough of this!” Soobin didn’t listen and neither did Taehyun, whose nostrils flared as he shot up to his feet.

“You know nothing,” he growled. “So stop acting like it.”

“I know enough to realize when someone’s having a temper tantrum,” Soobin said. “What did you say Kai was again? A four-year-old?”

“I never fucking said—”

“You said enough.”

“You are really determined to make me into the bad guy here, huh?”

“I don’t need to—”

“Are you that insecure about yourself? You need to bring me down to make you feel like you’re actually important? Do you know how sad that is?”

“Guys, please…” Beomgyu choked out, hands clasped over his ears and head buried in his knees. “Please just stop—”

“Says the one who’s so weak, he still lets his parents control him,” Soobin said.

“Soobin—!” Kai and Yeonjun yelled.

“Still takes their calls even after moving to the other side of the country,” Soobin continued, eyes narrow as Taehyun’s clenched fists began to tremble. “Still believes their every word. Are you that impressionable? A fucking grown adult who still listens to every word his parents say. That’s sad.”

“What’s sad is a fucking grown adult who still relies on his parents,” Taehyun shot back. “Oh wait. That’s you.”

“Beomgyu, are you okay?” Kai asked, voice wavering as he spotted his friend practically hunched over, trembling and breathing too loud.

“Please—Make it stop—Stop—Please—” Beomgyu was crying out. Kai shared a panicked look with Yeonjun before diving to Beomgyu’s side.

“Beomie, it’s okay,” he whispered, threading his fingers gently through his hair as he began to lead him to the far left end of the roof, away from the yelling. “It’ll be over soon, Beom. You just need to breathe for me, okay? We’ll do it together.”

“Both of you, don’t you see what you’re doing?!” Yeonjun was shouting at Taehyun and Soobin, who still weren’t acknowledging anyone else besides each other as they continued fighting. “This is getting out of hand! You guys need to stop!”

“I’m sick of it!” Soobin was screaming.

“Sick of what?!” Taehyun snapped. “Go ahead! Tell me what you’re sick of!”

“I’m sick of you!” Soobin growled, jabbing a finger at Taehyun’s chest. “I’m sick of you and your fucking temper tantrums all because you don’t know how to decline a fucking phone call!”

“It’s not that fucking easy—!”

“I’m sick of you always expecting us to pity you and tolerate your attitude!”

“No, listen to me—!”

“We never did anything wrong! We never deserved any of that bullshit!”

“Neither did I! I never deserved any of the bullshit my parents gave me!”

“Well that’s how they treat you, so you obviously did something to deserve it.”

“Soobin—!” Yeonjun screamed as he went to pull him away from Taehyun.

“You know what, Soobin?” Taehyun growled, reaching over Soobin’s shoulder to push Yeonjun back as the two stood toe-to-toe, Taehyun glaring into Soobin’s narrow eyes with his own pits of fire. “If anyone deserves to deal with bullshit, it’s you.”

“Kai, make them stop!” Beomgyu cried.

“Focus on me, Beomie,” Kai soothed. “It’s just you and I here.”

“Need me to suffer to make yourself feel better?” Soobin retorted.

“You know absolutely nothing. So here’s a bit of advice.”

“Taehyun—” Yeonjun stepped forward again.

“No one will care if you drop dead.”

Yeonjun stopped.

Kai gasped.

Beomgyu stiffened.

Silence. Absolute deafening silence.

Taehyun watched and waited for any sort of reaction, breathing heavily as he came down from his anger-induced high. His eyes were burning, chest heaving, entire body buzzing, and he felt his heart sink as all the poisonous words he had spat in Soobin’s face came falling across his brain like acid rain.

Everything was burning.

Soobin turned and disappeared back into the house.

Before Beomgyu was even fully able to comprehend what had happened to Kai, Ilsang had speed-cleaned his apartment and moved Beomgyu into his bedroom, opting to take the couch for, “As long as you need, Beom. I’m here for you, always.”

Kai once told him that too.

The morning Yeonjun washed up on the beach, Beomgyu locked himself in the bathroom with his head between his knees, unable to hear Ilsang’s desperate pleas on the other side of the door or see the incoming messages from Taehyun on his cracked phone screen. His hair was hanging around his neck. He wanted to strangle himself with it. Kai burned, Yeonjun drowned, it only seemed fitting he suffocate.

Ilsang had managed to push open the door before he could grab a towel off the rack. But Ilsang was sleeping at the apartment now, three weeks since a morning jogger spotted an unconscious boy lying across the sand, soaking wet as the rippling waves wrapped around him. The waves had continued rolling, none the wiser that twenty-one-year-old college student Choi Yeonjun had drowned himself in its depths. He was friends with Kai Huening, a nineteen-year-old attending the same college who lost his life in a house fire three weeks prior to Choi’s suicide. But time continued moving. The waves continued rolling and the remains of the Huenings’ summer house remained standing.

Time would continue moving no matter what changed.

Beomgyu remembered how the house looked when they arrived a month ago: framed by the setting sun as the trees stretched tall on all sides seemed to shield it from the terrors of the outside world and, in turn, the five boys. They would be safe there, Beomgyu believed, without the claustrophobia of crowds or the overstimulation of voices talking too loud or the stomachache-inducing interactions between themselves and everyone else who wasn’t them. Beomgyu didn’t have to worry about any of that or more. Out there in the summer house, it was just him and Taehyun and Kai and Soobin and Yeonjun. They were safe together.

But they weren’t together anymore. They weren’t protected after all. The moment Kai was torn from together, everything else tore with it. Taehyun and Soobin’s bond, the house, Yeonjun, and now, finally, it was Beomgyu’s turn. The world would continue on, but he refused to continue with it.

Not like it really mattered, anyway.

Even so, as he drove up the driveway still littered with charred shingles and tracks from the first responders’ vehicles, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for Ilsang. He would go into an absolute frenzy when he woke up and realized Beomgyu wasn’t there, even more so when he found his car missing from the building’s parking lot. He would’ve had the goal of getting to the police station, and without the car would resort to running. He wouldn’t want to waste any time, recklessly cutting through the morning rush without stopping to burst through the front doors of the station. “My brother,” he would cry at the front desk. “My brother’s gone. I woke up and he wasn’t there. I don’t know where he would’ve gone, he hasn’t left the house except for funerals. He took my car and he doesn’t even have a license, he could’ve gotten into an accident. No, you don’t understand, he can’t be left alone. Two of his friends died in the span of three weeks, he’s not mentally—”

Well, at least Beomgyu got the driving experience.

He didn’t bother taking the keys out the ignition, not wanting yet another thing weighing him down. Last time he stepped out of a car on this driveway, it was bright and he was filled with nothing but excitement as he was surrounded by his four best friends. This time it was dark and he was alone. The house was a two-story and had once blended in well with the trees, donning warm brown paint. That brown was now blackened, charred like Yeonjun’s gingerbread, a stark contrast to the lively trees it stood against. If Beomgyu only focused on the porch, he could pretend if only for a moment that everything was still the same. Nothing changed. He hadn’t agreed when Yeonjun offered to make gingerbread to cheer everyone up. Hell, Yeonjun didn’t even offer gingerbread in the first place. They all just smiled and laughed in the living room for hours—no cheering up necessary, no fights to be started, no calls from outsiders seeking to bring them down. Just the five of them in their own little section of the world, happy and safe and bright.

The moment of naïvety passed. Beomgyu looked further up. The living room window was to the right of the front door. Kai burned to death behind it. The kitchen was straight ahead. Gingerbread men charred in the oven. The firefighters had shot water along the halls. Yeonjun drowned himself in the ocean. He destroyed himself because he destroyed Kai.

Why shouldn’t Beomgyu be destroyed if everything around him was destroyed too?

The thick stench of smoke still lingered as he picked his way through the house, making him cough and wince as his body remembered the stinging of his nostrils and the aching of his lungs, stumbling through an inferno blindly with nothing to guide him except Kai’s hand on his back and Soobin’s hoarse screams calling for help. Beomgyu let his hand glide along the railing as he creaked up the staircase, heart lurching with each shudder of the steps and remembering how tight Yeonjun had grasped his hand and Kai’s too as they stumbled down the stairs and found Taehyun slumped in Soobin’s arms. They stood in the hall directly adjacent to the kitchen, outside the door to the study, obscured in smoke. The largest flames seemed to surround them.

“Help… us… please…”

Four out of five made it to the front door, able to breathe in the fresh air Beomgyu currently basked in, once again on the roof that now seemed to tremble under his feet with even the slightest movement. His skin remembered not being able to escape the searing heat, sat in the grass and crying out for Kai through his soot-stained lungs. When he looked up, he saw there were no stars, and his eyes remembered watching the firefighters pull a nearly unrecognizable mass from the smoldering house. He and Yeonjun had pushed their way forward, but he drew back when a breeze blew and he smelled the unbearable stench of burnt flesh. Yeonjun’s wretched scream cut through the frantic rings of sirens and Beomgyu spotted Soobin trembling as he pulled Taehyun closer to him.

Beomgyu inched closer to the edge of the roof.

Kai had gotten lost in the smoke. He knew the house best and led his friends out, but in prioritizing them he had disregarded himself and was ultimately destroyed. Yeonjun had seen his destroyed state and refused to even vaguely describe what Kai had looked like pulled from the living room, face contorted into a horrified solemnity as they scattered Kai’s ashes throughout the park two weeks later. He destroyed those memories along with himself when he sank into the sea. His destroyed state in the casket merely looked like he was asleep. But he wasn’t, and that knowledge alone was enough to pull bile from Beomgyu’s throat. He’ll destroy that memory along with himself. He’ll make sure no one will have to destroy any memories of his destroyed state because he’s alone and always should’ve been.

This is the way it always should’ve been.

Beomgyu closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, feeling one last time his current state. His head felt clogged. Everything ached. His heart was beating faster and faster. Just one more step and it would all be over, destroying himself and the memories of Yeonjun’s destroyed state in one swift motion. His stomach swooped. His eyes remained closed.

No wonder he didn’t see Taehyun trekking up the hiking path, cradling two bouquets of white flowers in his arms. His legs were screaming from the long walk, but that didn’t stop him from running forward with a scream of his own, dropping the flowers with wide eyes and a hand outstretched towards the boy toppling over the edge of the roof.

“Beomgyu!”

Taehyun was never anxious to get back to his dorm after his evening classes concluded. It was a three minute walk tops from the science building and besides, Professor Cheol was his favorite teacher—probably of all-time. He’d always be willing to help them no matter what they needed. Even if it meant staying nearly an hour after class to help organize a night retreat out in the countryside. Taehyun was really tempted to tell Cheol, “Make sure no one fights, otherwise the entire motel will burn down,” but he didn’t. Cheol was already very apprehensive at accepting Taehyun’s help in the first place.

“I just don’t want to trigger anything for you,” they had said when Taehyun approached their desk after class, the other students slowly filing out behind him. “I wasn’t even going to require you to go, honestly.”

“It was two months ago,” Taehyun had said. “I’m okay. Besides, I like helping. I want to help.” Cheol pursed their lips, gave a smile and wave when the last group of students shouted farewells as they left, and let out a breath. “Okay,” they had said with a nod and soft smile. “Thanks, Taehyun.”

And so that left Taehyun perched beside Cheol’s desk as they scrolled through the itinerary on the computer, Cheol’s glasses reflecting the screen’s bright light. They had just succeeded in finalizing the fee per student, combining both bus fare and motel room bookings, and Cheol sighed and pushed their glasses atop their head as they leaned back in their chair. “Now we gotta send all this out to the department head and wait for a confirmation.”

Taehyun hummed and leaned on his elbow, chin in his palm. “What would you do without me?” he teased with a smile. Cheol laughed.

“Not send this out to the department head tonight, that’s for sure.” They smiled at him. “Thank you again, really. I appreciate it.”

“It’s really not a problem.”

“Still, I can’t imagine this is easy for you.” They sat forward and continued before Taehyun could interject, “I know you said it was two months ago, but the memories are still fresh as ever, I’m sure.” Taehyun bit his lip. “You really don’t have to come on this trip.”

“I’m going,” Taehyun said firmly, staring at his fists clenched in his lap. “I have to.”

“Taehyun—”

“I can’t let it happen to anyone else, Cheol!” Taehyun screamed. He regretted those words as soon as he let them slip.

“Taehyun…” Cheol was hesitant, folding their glasses and setting them on the desk. They shifted in their seat, the chair squeaking in the silence, in order to face Taehyun. He still wouldn’t look at them, and they hesitated more before asking, “Have you been seeing anyone since the fire?”

“I don’t… need to.” Taehyun was much more careful with his words now. Cheol already looked concerned enough, he shouldn’t concern them more.

“Maybe it’s not an immediate need,” Cheol carefully said. “But it may benefit you.”

Taehyun didn’t even bother with a response. He simply stayed how he was, tense and silent.

“Oh, Taehyun. I’m so sorry.” Cheol reached around the desk to rub Taehyun’s shoulder, and that’s when he collapsed in on himself and began to sob into his lap. He couldn’t bear to tell Cheol the truth. What would they think of him if he did? It would definitely explain his unwillingness to seek counseling. After all, why should he seek help for his own pain if he aided in inflicting pain onto others?

What if he had spoken up back in the very beginning? Before Yeonjun drowned himself? Before Beomgyu jumped? Could he have saved them? Was there any way to save Soobin? To keep him from becoming the hollow, blank, emotionless shadow of his former self? The Soobin he fought with on the roof of the summer house. The Soobin who carried his unconscious body out of the burning house and held his hand the entire way to the hospital. Was there any way That Soobin could’ve survived the fire?

Taehyun owed Soobin, he knew that, but every day that passed was another day where he asked himself, What am I doing? He didn’t think he’d ever figure it out. It was too late, anyway.

“Would you like a minute?” Cheol asked gently after a moment. Taehyun choked on another sob as he nodded. Cheol squeezed his shoulder once before standing. “I’ll drop by the department head’s office and get you some water and tissues before coming back. Should be about ten minutes. Sound good?” Taehyun sniffled loudly and nodded again. Cheol gave a reassuring smile even though he couldn’t see it and said, “Okay. I’ll be back.”

“Thank you, Cheol…” Taehyun tried to say through his scratchy throat, but it came out softer than he intended. He wasn’t even completely sure Cheol had heard him, but the soft breath they let out before stepping into the hall made him hopeful that they had.

The lecture hall had lapsed into silence, broken only by his own cries and the ticking of the clock above the whiteboard. Taehyun managed to swallow any remaining sobs and begin wiping his face down with the sleeves of his bomber jacket, heaving in a great breath before pushing his hair back and glancing up at the clock.

8:53.

The door began to open, and Taehyun perked up in surprise. He didn’t know the exact time Cheol had left, but it sure hadn’t felt like ten minutes ago. Perhaps they had forgotten something. He spotted their glasses still on the desk, and immediately assumed that was what they were coming back for. He stood to grab them as someone stepped into the lecture hall. “Hey,” he said, clearing his throat as he raised the glasses along with his head. “Looking for—?”

He blinked.

“Beomgyu?”

The last time he saw Beomgyu was when he brought him daisies and ran into Soobin. To see him on his feet and in clothes other than a hospital gown was mildly shocking, but it also made his heart lift knowing he was getting better. Despite the fact his sneakers were splattered with mud and the gray hoodie he paired with black jeans practically engulfed his entire frame, he was out of a hospital gown and on his feet. Never mind the fact he was hunched over, both hands were stuffed in the hoodie pocket, and his hair hung over his eyes. He was out of a hospital gown and on his feet.

“I didn’t know you were getting discharged,” Taehyun said, smiling as he set Cheol’s glasses back on the desk. He wiped his face once more before clasping his hands behind his back and striding over. “How are you?”

“You got me daisies,” Beomgyu said. Taehyun blinked in surprise but nodded.

“Yeah. But Soobin was the one who put them in the vase for you. Did you like them?”

“Were those the same flowers you were bringing to the house?”

Taehyun blinked again, suddenly aware of the heavy weight slipping off Beomgyu’s shoulders and lingering in the air between them, dark and thick and suffocating. Just like smoke. “How did you know I was bringing flowers?”

“I saw them in the grass.”

“But you were unconscious—”

“I’ve been going in and out the entire time.”

Taehyun shifted his weight to his right leg, wrapping his arms across his chest like he was still carrying the two small bundles of white flowers. “No. Those were zinnias. For Yeonjun and Kai. I wanted to make, like, a mini memorial or something at the house.” He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said as he lowered his gaze, and that’s when he noticed Beomgyu’s legs were trembling. “Are you okay?” he asked, going to look up again. “Should you even be standing—?”

“No amount of flowers in the world will ever make up for what you’ve done,” Beomgyu growled, and Taehyun took a sharp breath at the foul, ugly glare Beomgyu was shooting his way, piercing straight through him and lighting his body on fire. Beomgyu’s entire body was trembling, the fabric of his pocket twitching from his shaking hands wedged inside. Taehyun took a step back. Beomgyu took a step forward.

“What are you talking about?” Taehyun asked.

“I heard everything you told Soobin,” Beomgyu said, and Taehyun’s heart dropped. There must have been a visible shift on his face because Beomgyu’s breathing began to shudder. “So inconvenient for you, right? After all, you’ve been keeping the truth a secret for two months already. Going for a third, aren’t you?”

“Beomie, no,” Taehyun said.

“No?” Beomgyu repeated. He took a step forward. Taehyun took a step back. “So you weren’t keeping the truth from us?”

“You don’t understand,” Taehyun said, eyes flitting towards Cheol’s desk. There was a long plastic container situated near the edge, sectioned off to store paperclips, binder clips, sharpeners, erasers.

“You ever think if you just told us, we would understand?” Beomgyu shot back.

“This isn’t about a ‘we’ or ‘us,’ Beomie,” Taehyun said. There was a tall mug by Cheol’s computer, holding pens and pencils and highlighters.

“It never was with you.”

Taehyun shot his head up at that. Beomgyu was still glaring at him through the dark strands of his hair. His entire aura seemed to get darker with each passing second, each step he took forward, each step Taehyun took back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Taehyun asked anyway, thinking vaguely that he was poking a wild bear with a stick.

“It’s exactly like Soobin said,” Beomgyu said, and Taehyun thought his heart couldn’t be crushed any more. “We never deserved any of this. Kai didn’t deserve to die. Yeonjun didn’t deserve to die.”

“Why would I think either of them deserved it?!” Taehyun yelled, making his way up the rows of tables towards the back wall. The door was on his right side. He was moving further away from it. Beomgyu was moving closer to him still. “They’re my best friends!”

“Actions speak louder than words,” Beomgyu said. “You let Yeonjun take the blame for the fire. You knew he had nothing to do with it, but you told him nothing and he fucking killed himself.”

“I didn’t know!” Taehyun sobbed. “I didn’t know that would happen!”

“Just like you didn’t know the house would burn down?”

“How would I have known that?!”

“Because you were the one who started the fire.”

Taehyun’s back hit the wall. Beomgyu was directly in front of him now. Taehyun was crying again, and he realized with a start that Beomgyu was crying too. He trembled and shook and cried out, “Tell me it isn’t true… Please tell me what you told Soobin wasn’t true…” He stared into Taehyun’s eyes desperately. The seconds continued to tick loudly from the clock above the whiteboard. It sounded like a countdown. Something indescribable flickered in Beomgyu’s eyes. Taehyun’s eyes flitted towards the door.

Movement.

The clock struck 8:56, and the knife from Beomgyu’s hoodie pocket plunged into Taehyun’s stomach.

Soobin didn’t know how he ended up in the study. It was the room across from his and Taehyun’s borrowed bedrooms, right next to the kitchen, and one none of them went into that often. Kai had swung it open in a grand motion on the first day as he was giving them a tour, and the five of them huddled just inside. Something in the air made it impossible for them to go any further.

“You’re feeling all the pent-up stress and frustration,” Kai explained. “My sisters and I would be forced to do our summer homework in here. My dad joined us this year. You can imagine how well that went.”

“I feel sorry for your mom,” Taehyun said.

“She handled it like a trooper, though. Bless her soul.” Kai placed a hand over his heart with a curt nod, then laughed. “But yeah. Not a very welcoming place unless you’re trying to scare the shit out of each other with scary stories.”

“Oh, Taehyunie~” Beomgyu sang.

“Not a fucking chance, Beom.”

“Dammit.”

And there really was no fucking chance. The study door stayed closed for the majority of their stay. Even when Soobin complained his friends were, “Being so loud the characters can hear your stupidity!” and Yeonjun suggested, “Go read in the study,” Soobin would give a dramatic sigh and settle back in his spot. None of them had to say it. The “pent-up stress and frustration” Kai spoke about was disturbing enough to make them avoid the room like it was full of rotting corpses.

It would’ve been more logical for Soobin to retreat to his borrowed room after his fight with Taehyun. Perhaps he should’ve pulled a “Taehyun” and straight-up walked out into the forest. But for some unknown reason he jumped down the ladder, down the stairs, and walked down the hall towards his borrowed bedroom only to turn around and open the door on the other side of the hallway. It was warm in the study, a stark contrast to the cool night outside. He soon realized it was because of the fire crackling in the fireplace with its bright sunset colors. Red, orange, and yellow.

The windows facing the expanse of forest directly across from the doorway where Soobin stood was dark, being framed by delicate white curtains. The glass merely reflected the fire and Soobin’s face. He looked away to survey the rest of the room. Unlike the rest of the house, the study was floored with carpet: a soft gray the color of stone. A dark oak bookcase stood in the far corner, towering over the brown-wood desk and metal trashcan beside it. A corkboard on the wall was filled with dozens of crayon drawings scribbled on white printer paper. Two small couches faced the fireplace, the mantle filled with framed pictures and snowglobes. Soobin noticed the drawers to the desk were opened ever-so-slightly. Small scraps of colorful paper surrounded the trashcan. There was a trail of it from the trashcan to the floor in front of the couches right next to the fireplace.

“Bin?” Yeonjun called from the hallway.

Soobin stiffened, holding his breath as he heard Yeonjun come down the stairs. His footsteps padded down the hall towards the study, and Soobin squeezed his eyes shut as if he could simply will himself to turn invisible. He didn’t want to talk to Yeonjun. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to be alone.

Turns out he didn’t have to worry as Yeonjun walked right past the study and stopped in front of the bedroom door. Soobin opened his eyes as he heard him knock and call his name. He knew he wouldn’t go in if he didn’t get a response, and he was proven correct when no door was opened and Yeonjun sighed instead. “Bin, he didn’t mean it,” he said presumably to the closed door. “He was just upset.”

That gives him no excuse to say those things.

“You didn’t have to insult him the way you did. It just made things worse for everybody.”

But it’s fine that he threw insults, right?

“We are worried about you, though.”

All of a sudden?

“Are you okay? What was wrong earlier? I’m sure Taehyun didn’t help, but you can talk to me.” He sighed again. “You can always talk to me.”

He didn’t want to talk to Yeonjun. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to be alone.

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be in the kitchen if you want to talk. If not, that’s fine. But the meteor shower is starting soon.” Yeonjun tread towards the kitchen slowly, dragging his feet as if expecting Soobin to open the door and let him in. But Soobin wouldn’t open the door. Not the door to the study, not the door Yeonjun believed he was behind. Yeonjun sighed one more time before he entered the kitchen, the room directly next to the study. Soobin heard him singing softly as he moved around, sharp clangs resonating through the otherwise still air of the house. Soobin stood frozen for another few minutes before he followed the paper trail to the fireplace.

The space in front of the couches looked like someone was in the middle of an arts-and-crafts project before being called away. Glue sticks and markers were sprawled across the carpet, open scissors set atop a stack of bright colored paper. The crackling flames bounced off the laminated photographs Soobin quickly realized were of the five students in various locations: the beach, their university campus, Yeonjun’s kitchen, Kai’s parents’ basement, Beomgyu’s old workplace, Soobin’s aunt’s restaurant, Taehyun’s dorm room, the park. Memories bounded across the images, echoes of laughter resonating throughout the pages of the scrapbook-in-progress lying open in the center of the artistic chaos.

Soobin kneeled in front of it, hands hovered uncertainly over the brown book. A mix of curiosity regarding the book’s contents and dread of returning to the roof made him flip to the cover, and he was immediately reminded of the group mall trip that occurred just last weekend. They had stopped by the bookstore and Kai had wandered off, reappearing with a shopping bag he held close to his chest when Beomgyu tried to have a peek. “Not telling,” he responded to their questions, smiling and rocking on his heels. Soobin guessed this was the surprise: a scrapbook filled to the brim with snapshots of their best moments together.

He began flipping through it, a smile tugging at his rigid lips as he read the wonky cursive announcing “Prom!” and “Graduation!” alongside photographs and small messages. “I am never wearing a tie again,” said one. Another was a quote from Beomgyu: “I’m not saying high school contributed to my anxiety, but high school contributed to my anxiety.” A laugh began to curl in his chest as he turned the page.

“4 + 1”

The laugh turned into a suffocating rope wrapped around his heart.

Staring back at him were the bright-eyed faces of five university freshman, hovered around a telescope under a dark starry sky. He remembered that time: back when Kai’s hair was blond and Beomgyu had just started growing his out. Back when his astronomy final required groups of five and there were only four of them. When the professor brought the quiet boy who had sat by himself the entire year over to “complete” their group. But their group never needed completing. They were fine. They never needed that boy with the frizzy silver hair. They were fine.

The paper of the scrapbook tore as Soobin dug his fingers under the photograph and yanked.

Everything changed when Taehyun came. When he hurtled through like an asteroid and destroyed their four, using the resulting big bang to mold the rubble into the universe he wanted. No regard for others, what had been, what was going to be. It was about him. It was always about him.

The photograph crinkled in Soobin’s harsh grip, the reflection of the flames glinting in his eyes. Yeonjun was still singing in the kitchen. The other three were still on the roof. No one came for him. No one was coming for him. Back in high school, his three friends would’ve tore down walls in order to pull him from the dark. But not now. Not anymore. Those times were gone now. Destroyed. The flames glinted in his eyes. They were hot against his hand.

They brought the light of the stars in the photo to life in front of Soobin’s eyes as the corner was set aflame.

His hand shook as he brought the photo away from the fire and simply watched: as it began to curl, as it began to darken, as the brilliant red and orange and yellow continued to burn. The flames didn’t care where they were, why they were, how they were. They just were. They just burned. They brought color and light to the dark but destroyed everything within in the process. Soon, the photograph would be nothing but ash in his hand, completely destroyed and at the mercy of the universe. What would become of it—what could become of it? What is there left to do when the dust settles and the rubble of what once was laid scattered across nothing? What could you do when nothing was left?

There was nothing left of what once was. It didn’t matter anymore. It never mattered in the first place. No one would care. No one would care. The fire was beautiful. No one would care.

“Yeonjun! Soobin! It’s starting! Hurry!”

Soobin jumped at Kai’s call, panicking when he heard Yeonjun call back, “Coming!” and begin to rush out of the kitchen. Soobin tossed the photograph towards the fire without looking, his gaze locked on the door. He kept looking at the door as he stood and rushed over. He darted into the hall and closed the door to the study without looking back inside, without looking back at the scrapbook and the paper and the scraps in front of the fireplace. Yeonjun appeared in the hall and smiled at him. He forced a smile back and allowed him to link their arms as they walked up the stairs. Kai was peering down the ladder from the roof. He was smiling too. The fire continued burning in the study. He meant for the photograph to keep burning with it. Only the photograph.

No one was supposed to know.

A flask joined the lighter in Soobin’s pocket the day after his and Taehyun’s conversation in Beomgyu’s hospital room. The liquid sloshing inside would be used up quickly and Soobin was constantly sneaking into his parents’ garage to refill it. By the end of the week, the can was nearly empty.

His parents had become annoyingly attentive ever since the fire. They watched him closely, waiting for the day when the stone of the statue that had become their son would crack and human emotion would leak through. Every night when Soobin shut himself in his bedroom, their disheartened faces followed him inside. How terrible of a son is he, constantly crushing his parents’ hopes they try so desperately to hold onto even two months later? Even now, walking into the hardware store with a wad of cash between the flask and lighter in his pocket, he wasn’t replacing the nearly empty jerry can in his parents’ garage for them. It was for himself; so he could continue filling the flask and pouring it over piles of foliage and trash before bringing out the lighter and—

He was so fucking selfish. All he did was hurt people. He hurt his parents by letting them down, he hurt Beomgyu by not being there, he hurt Kai by burning his scrapbook, he hurt Yeonjun by not telling him the truth, he hurt Taehyun by…

Taehyun. How did he figure it out? Soobin never told him. Why would Soobin tell him? No one was supposed to know, especially not Taehyun of all people, but he knew and he kept it a secret still. He walked from the store with the jerry can dangling in one hand. His steps were slow and heavy. His face was stone. His mind was anything but.

Taehyun knew. How? Taehyun kept it a secret. Why? Taehyun figured it out. Where?

Soobin was so fucking selfish. He had no right to knock on Taehyun’s door, expecting him to answer his questions while he hid the jerry can behind his back. But there he was at a quarter to nine, being greeted by Taehyun’s roommate instead. “Jungwon,” he said, more out of surprise than as a greeting.

“Hey, Soobin,” he said, smiling as he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. His eyes roved over Soobin’s entire body as though he were examining him. The examination Soobin underwent every day with his parents. He looked straight above Jungwon’s head. “You looking for Tae?” Jungwon asked.

“Yeah.”

“He’s probably still with Cheol at the science building. Helping them plan the retreat.”

“Retreat?”

“Yeah. His class is going out into the country for their star charting final.” Jungwon frowned with a slight tilt of his head. “Taehyun didn’t tell you?”

Soobin looked down the hall towards the elevators.

“Oh shit. Obviously he wouldn’t. I’m so sorry! I know things have still been hard for you all, I don’t know why I thought—”

“Thank you anyway, Jungwon,” Soobin said, bringing the jerry can to his chest as he turned towards the elevators. “Goodbye.”

“Soobin!” He heard him step out of his dorm as he stopped halfway down the hall. “Are you… Is everything okay? What do you need Taehyun for?”

“Good night, Jungwon,” Soobin choked out before continuing his walk. Just before the elevator doors closed, he saw Jungwon was still in the hall, staring at him. He hugged the jerry can tighter as he started his descent.

The clocktower on campus read 8:50 by the time Soobin made it to the science building. The security guards roaming the entrance didn’t give him or his jerry can a second glance—he was a student and people had brought weirder things into the science building. Professor Cheol’s classroom was on the third floor, and Soobin took his time trudging up the stairs. Everything seemed heavy: the air, the jerry can, his entire body, the lighter.

“Why would I think either of them deserved it?!”

Taehyun’s voice slammed him to a stop. His yell echoed through the classrooms, the hallways, Soobin’s mind. His feet dragged across the floor as he approached Cheol’s classroom. Another voice slammed him to a stop next to the closed door. “You let Yeonjun take the blame for the fire,” Beomgyu growled.

The words shoved him into a wall, legs weak and jerry can slipping from his arms. The liquid sloshed heavily inside. “You knew he had nothing to do with it,” Beomgyu continued, “but you told him nothing and he fucking killed himself.”

“I didn’t know!” Taehyun sobbed. “I didn’t know that would happen!”

Neither did Soobin.

“Just like you didn’t know the house would burn down?”

No one knew, not even Soobin.

“How would I have known that?!”

How did Taehyun know Soobin was the one who started the fire?

“Because you were the one who started the fire.”

Beomgyu still didn’t know.

Both their voices sounded far away, resounding from deeper in the room. Despite that, Soobin could hear both their cries, echoing in his mind just as loud as their voices had. “Tell me it isn’t true…” Beomyu sobbed. “Please tell me what you told Soobin wasn’t true…”

It wasn’t, but Beomgyu didn’t know that. He had been listening to their conversation that day in his hospital room. He always listened. Still, he didn’t know anything and was hurting, and all Soobin could think about was Yeonjun and how he didn’t know anything and was hurting and was ultimately destroyed.

He destroyed himself.

But Taehyun could keep Beomgyu from repeating history. He could tell him the truth: no, he didn’t start the fire, Soobin did. He didn’t have to keep it a secret anymore. He could tell Beomgyu the truth. All he had to do was speak.

No voices came from the classroom again. There were only soft hiccups and harsh breathing. Soobin inched closer to the door, knuckle turning white around the jerry can handle, and peered into the classroom through the glass window. He spotted his two friends pressed against the far wall, Beomgyu with his back to the door. He was shaking. In front of him, cowering under his presence, Taehyun was shaking too. His eyes flickered towards the door. Towards Soobin.

Beomgyu’s arm moved so fast, Soobin almost didn’t register it at first. But then blood spewed from Taehyun’s mouth as he choked on his gasp with a jerk. He didn’t get a chance to unlodge it and scream as Beomgyu pressed his hand against his mouth, pinning him fully against the wall as he brought his arm back. The ruby red knife twinkled under the lights. Fire has red in it. Red gushed from the wound in Taehyun’s stomach as Beomgyu stabbed him again.

Why? Why was this happening? Beomgyu wouldn’t do this. He’d never do anything to hurt anyone or let anyone hurt anything. Not anymore. Right before Soobin’s eyes, he mercilessly stabbed the boy he called a friend again and again and again, hand over his mouth to prevent him from screaming or gasping for air. That Beomgyu, who once never did anything to hurt anyone or let anyone hurt anything, was gone. Destroyed.

That Beomgyu Soobin had known and loved had been destroyed. Just like Yeonjun. Just like Kai. Soobin was now responsible for the destruction of three people. He started the fire. He started the fire. Taehyun was going limp. He started the fire.

He entered the classroom. Locked the door behind him. He looked back at the pair against the wall. Beomgyu still couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him. He replaced Taehyun’s screams with his own. “You monster! How could you?! We’re your friends! No one else would be your friend! Is this how you repay us?!”

The fresh smell of gasoline shot up Soobin’s nose as he opened the jerry can with a pop. It began to fill Professor Cheol’s classroom as the pungent liquid splattered against the floor, the desk, sent the plastic container on the edge of the table tumbling to the floor with a thump. The metal trashcan by the window was filled with paper. He threw it over with a clang. It knocked the adjacent plastic recycling bin over with a thud, scattering more trash across the wet floor. The chairs behind the desks had fabric cushions. He soaked them thoroughly in the gasoline. The jerry can was now empty. He threw it aside where it smacked against the window. The lighter was now in his hand. He flicked it on. The can clattered uselessly to the ground.

Everything was useless, wasn’t it?

“Soo… bin…?”

Beomgyu was turned to face him now. His entire body kept shaking, breathing in harsh pants, knife and hands dripping ruby red that dribbled down his jeans and spotted the toes of his shoes. His grip on Taehyun loosened, allowing him to collapse into a pool of his own blood that continued to pour from the gaping hole that had become his stomach. His eyes flickered between Soobin and Beomgyu, light and dark, an illusion of choice. Through the thick strands of his hair, Beomgyu’s eyes were crazed and calm, bright and dull, insane and stable. They locked straight onto Soobin, the only emotion pooling in them being shock. Shock because of what? Soobin’s presence? The smell of gasoline? The revelation that stone could crack and crumble?

“What did you do?” Soobin said. He couldn’t talk any louder than a whisper. Two months of unshed tears, contained human emotion, and unexpressed secrets of guilt poured out in a tsunami that had him gasping and heaving and sobbing and shaking with the small flame of the lighter wavering as much as his voice. He was drowning in his own tsunami. He was letting himself drown. Yeonjun let himself drown too. Beomgyu let himself snap and Kai let himself burn. “What did you do?”

“What did you do?” Beomgyu countered, stumbling as he took in the state of the classroom. He sniffed, then wrinkled his nose. “Is that… gasoline?”

“What did you do?!” Soobin screamed, tearing his throat raw.

Beomgyu jumped, then squinted his eyes. “Are you… crying?”

“What did you fucking do, Beomgyu?!”

“He’s the reason, Bin!” He whipped the knife towards Taehyun, droplets of blood flying across the walls and floor and Taehyun’s cheek. “He’s the reason Kai and Yeonjun are dead! He started the fire and let Yeonjun take the blame!”

“No no no no no,” Soobin said, shaking his head violently. “No no no!”

“I know, Bin,” Beomgyu said softly. “I didn’t want to believe it either. But he told you himself. I heard your conversation! He’s guilty.”

“No no no no no,” Soobin repeated, burying his face in his free hand. “No no no…”

Taehyun kept the secret. Despite knowing the truth, despite having the force to hold what mattered together, he kept silent and let what mattered tear itself apart. He watched it all in silence, swallowing back the truth and trying not to choke. Now he laid on the floor, choking on his own blood. He let himself suffocate.

“It’s the truth, Bin. He didn’t deny it.”

Taehyun let himself suffocate. Beomgyu let himself snap. Yeonjun let himself drown. Kai let himself burn. They all destroyed themselves. How much must they have hated themselves to do that? Everything had been destroyed. There was nothing left. What was Soobin supposed to do with nothing?

Everything.

“I had to do this, Bin,” Beomgyu said as his tears returned. “I had… I couldn’t just… He hurt all of us. We took him in and he hurt us. He… killed us and I wouldn’t… Couldn’t…” He couldn’t come up with the words he needed. The words he needed to justify his actions wouldn’t come.

Is there any justice in destruction? Do the destructed truly know justice? What even is justice?

Beomgyu continued to stumble over his own tongue. Soobin continued to sob, his arm beginning to ache from holding out the lighter. His vision was blurry, but he could still see Taehyun surrounded by his own red. His eyes had settled on Soobin—only Soobin. His cracked lips shone with a light sheen of blood, slightly parted with the absence of breath. He hid Soobin’s truth and was destroyed for it. Soobin was responsible for the destruction of four people.

He destroyed everything that had ever mattered to him.

“Soobin.”

The clock on the wall behind him was ticking. It was loud. Time was still moving. It would always keep moving. The universe didn’t care what changed. It didn’t matter. No one would care.

“Soobin,” Beomgyu said again. The knife was limp in his hand. His legs struggled to hold his body up. His bottom lip quivered. He stared, and Soobin stared back before glancing over his shoulder at the clock.

10. 9. 8.

“What are you gonna do with that lighter?” Beomgyu asked. His voice was steady. He wasn’t scared. Only curious.

7. 6. 5.

Soobin turned back to him. Beomgyu seemed to be sinking into the floor. He wouldn’t move. Neither boy was going to move. The lighter began to slip from his hand.

4. 3. 2.

“Finish what I started.”

The clock struck 9:00 and everything ended the way it began.

In flames.