Chapter Text
Intense blinding hot pain. Till’s addled mind couldn’t comprehend it enough as Mizi’s stunned eyes stared back at him. An unbidden thought came to mind, how did that loser endure this. He even took several bullets. But it passed briefly. The pain was too distracting.
The instinct to scream when faced with sudden pain was there but his throat wouldn’t work. Singing was out of the question then. Till’s voice could no longer be heard.
His gaze had gone hazy, breath gone unstable, knees buckling, and he was falling. Falling… white coat stained with red… fluttering under the rain… time slowing down as he fell...
Till vaguely heard a small commotion amidst the roaring of the crowd. There were footsteps hastily nearing him. For a brief moment, that certain sound resonated with another unbidden memory. The sounds of small feet running… running… crimson skies, fiery blazes…
Till, a whisper.
“T-Till,” another echoed. Gentle hands cradled his face.
Rough hands grazing his neck, the click of the collar echoing.
Till’s gaze focused above him. Hazy eyes gaining clarity slowly as his body thrummed with too much pain. Then he felt the unmistakable drops of liquid hitting his face. For a fearful moment, he thought he could hear the sound of the rain. Sincere eyes gazing at him, bloody lips forming into a genuine smile…
His gaze refocused and there was Mizi above him, recognizing her salty tears and gentle touch on his, like an angel of tragedy sent to soothe him. Her hair was shorter then. And she wasn’t smiling like she used to. She looked different yet somehow, in Till’s numb mind, she was still the same. His goddess, his muse. The same carefree girl who once held his hand as they ran around the hallways, who once leaned against his chest, bright eyes shining up at him and stifled laughter on her lips. The memory was quite vivid in his mind even if it was just for a second. Till wondered if this was what they said about flashes of your cherished memories of loved ones playing out like a rolled film when one is on the verge of death.
But he was abruptly pulled to reality when he felt trembling fingers lightly brushing his hair. With his remaining strength, Till moved his hand to reach for hers, desperate eyes never leaving sorrowful ones.
A touch to confirm if she was real.
He didn’t get to touch Ivan then, before the bastards pulled him off the blood-soaked stage. Maybe it wasn’t real.
The soft skin of her hand was so solid under Till’s fingertips. She’s real. But even with the confirmation of reality, Till felt the briefly dormant despair rise again in his chest. I didn’t even get to tell her.
His strength left him and his hand fell away. Mizi’s grief-stricken eyes was the last thing he saw before his eyes shut on their own accord. It was getting harder and harder to breath, to stay awake…
Wake up, Till, someone told him a long time ago. Come on, I want to play with you. But a small, annoyed Till had pushed him away to resume his sleep. Till always pushed him away but the persistent bastard stayed. Even in his last breath, he stayed.
You died for nothing, idiot, Till thought bitterly, heartbeat sickeningly slowing down to a stop, before his last breath left him for good.
The next time he woke up, Till didn’t expect himself to. After all, he was sure he died. He blinked up at the familiar artificial sky. There was no pain, no lingering sweat, no screams, no taunting voices, no gentle hands, no bright lights, and no pink hair. It was silent except for his breathing which he shouldn’t be able to do.
Confused, Till slowly sat up and immediately noticed that his stage seven outfit was replaced with a familiar white ensemble. His hands came up to rub his neck. He could still hear the echo of the gunshot ringing in his head and could still feel the phantom pain but there was no blood on the unblemished skin save for the familiar rough ridges of his etched name. No collar either. Am I… in an afterlife?
Till slowly registered his surroundings as he looked around. Then there was the dawning realization why the place looked so familiar. He was back in the Anakt Garden.
Like a trigger, Till immediately heard the phantom voices of kids laughing, running around. Startled, Till whipped his head to what he thought the source of the voices but the place was empty except for him. He slowly stood up, instinctively being mindful of his body state but soon realized it was moot since there was no lingering pain anymore. He felt lighter than he ever was.
There were those phantom voices again. This time, closer to his position. Till’s attention was caught again as he saw a familiar raven head dashing away from the corner of his eyes but as he whipped his head to that direction, there was no one.
Another bout of laughter and Till was slightly going crazy from all these invisible voices. He chased the familiar sound, feet carrying him automatically as if drawn. From his periphery, he saw a brief glimpse of the dark hair being chased by a grey-haired one. Their laughter echoed around Till. But when he tried to look at them, they were not there.
Frustrated, Till tried to follow where he thought they were going. Never once did he see them, only glimpses of hazy silhouettes from his periphery. Like ghosts haunting him. But that’s not right. He should be the ghost.
Still, he followed. Navigating the familiar downtrodden paths in that deserted place.
He froze when he came to a familiar passageway. A strange sense of déjà vu passed through him. It was then that he realized the invisible voices were gone. Unconsciously, he took a step back, his heart seized in his throat. Strangely, in the loud silence, Till could suddenly hear his weak heartbeat.
“Till, please.”
Startled, Till turned around, away from the passageway. But still, there was no one. His heartbeat, though, only seemed to get louder in his ears. This time, accompanied by what sounded like a heartbeat monitor.
“Come on, Till. Come back.”
It was Mizi’s voice. Till would know it anywhere. The tinge of desperation in it made Till more alert. Where are you? He wanted to call out but couldn’t find his voice.
“Till, you can do this. You have to pull through, please.” Her voice sounded distant but at the same time, it echoed loudly around the silent space. Till was stumbling back slowly from where he came from, moving away from the certain passageway as he tried to search for the owner of the voice in vain.
“Come on, Till. Come on.”
His pounding heart seemed to amplify like an answer, the frantic beeping of a heartbeat monitor ringing in his ears. Till’s eyes widened. There. At the end of the path in front of him. There was a glimpse of pink hair turning around the corner. “Please, Till.”
It was blurry much like the ghosts of the children from earlier – the figure was gone too soon. But it was unmistakably Mizi, crying for him to follow. Dazed, Till went to do so.
But he was unable to take another step when another blurry figure dashed right past him.
“Come on, Till.” This time, the voice was different. Younger and familiar. Like a memory forgotten. And it was from behind him. “Let’s hurry before they catch us.”
The next beep of the heartbeat monitor was longer. “No. Till, please,” Mizi’s desperate voice resonated from the other end.
“Till.”
He couldn’t help himself. He looked back.
Back to the younger voice.
And there. Running towards the familiar passageway he stumbled upon earlier… was Ivan. The child paused to beckon him, lips quirking in excitement, his snaggletooth peeking at the side, wide eyes staring directly at Till’s stunned ones.
“Come on, Till. We're almost there.”
“Come on, Till. Please.” The two voices kept on calling him.
Till looked again at the direction of Mizi’s voice.
Till knew he died. He could still taste the saltiness of Mizi’s tears dropping accidentally on his lips. He could still feel the lingering presence of a phantom bullet on his neck. He might not believe about the Great Anakt that the Anakt Garden instructors told them about but he knew he must be in some kind of an afterlife.
The thought of going back to Mizi… of seeing her face up close again. Of confirming once again that she was indeed alive and well and not just some illusion his traumatized brain came up with. Of having the chance to tell her everything. Of fighting back against the segyeins once more. Of being alive again…
“You’re going to get us caught, idiot.”
Till glanced back at the younger voice who just spoke. Surprisingly, Till suddenly found his voice again.
It came out hoarse and trembling, “Come back with me, Ivan.” The sounds of the heartbeat monitor in the background seemed to be veering on dangerous.
Younger Ivan merely smiled a bereft smile and slowly shook his head. “You really are an idiot.” Then he abruptly turned away from Till.
“Hurry up. Last one there is the rotten egg.”
It was as Till remembered. Crimson skies with golden blazes raining everywhere. But the difference was the younger Ivan was nowhere to be found after Till chased him down.
In the distance, however, was a silhouette that seemed to shine under the glow of the falling meteor. The white of his suit and coat was a stark contrast to the darkness of the universe that surround them. The silhouette slowly turned towards Till and for a moment, he feared he’d see the splashes of crimson on him.
But his clothes were pristine, just like how they looked before round six started. Not even a hair out of place, the familiar snaggletooth on the corner of his small smile.
“You’re here.” This time, the voice didn’t sound distant anymore.
Slowly, Till made his way towards him.
Till knew he died. He had passed the threshold of another possibility that he never knew existed for him. The reason for his rebellion, for his passion, for his persistency to cling onto his funneled hope who was his goddess…he had always longed for freedom.
In death, there were no shackles, no collars, no abusive hands, no unwanted advances.
In death, you would not need hope anymore.
And he wasn’t alone. For a long time, he really wasn’t, as a quiet presence had always stayed by him.
Till stopped in front of him, head slightly tilted to look up and straight into those piercing, crimson eyes.
Ivan did what he did best. He stared and stared.
And Till stared back.
This time, I wouldn’t let you be alone either.
“I’m here,” was his whispered answer. He would not be turning back this time.
The heartbeat monitor was long silenced but strangely, Till’s heart was beating warmly.