Chapter Text
The room smelled of must.
Not like rot and decay, but like a memory of death. It was sour, like a wool blanket pressed to his face — rough, hot, suffocating.
Saint sat on the ground in the middle of the room, the cold wall stinging his back. He stared at the rotating ceiling fan which offered no breeze, the blades glinting off the street lamps outside his window. Saint bit his lip, staring at the floor. He let the silence crawl in, trying to ignore the man beside him.
Shin was leaning on his knees, body twisting as he tried to catch Saint's eyes. He had been trying for the past hour or so. His best friend didn't even talk to him, and it was making him incredibly frustrated.
Shin huffed before rubbing his face over Saint's strong biceps. His soft brown hair spread out in strands over the white sleeve. Saint stiffened as Shin placed his chin on his arm, eyes raking down Saint's face.
“Look at me.”
The voice was quiet, but it echoed louder than it should have been. Saint, ever the obedient puppy, let his eyes flicker for a moment — catching Shin's. He flinched when the brown hazels dug into him, catching him in a sin he never meant to commit.
Saint let himself stare for a minute before turning his face away.
Shin didn't let him do that.
Slender fingers that oh so often scratched his chin wrapped around his jaw. Saint's chest ached as he let his once best friend turn his face.
“I said look at me, you asshole.”
Shin whispered, before attaching their lips together.
Saint gasped in surprise and Shin took it as a chance to deepen their kiss. Shin’s lips were warm — unnaturally so. Like a heated vacuum. It made Saint wonder. He let his lips be bitten, gently kissing back. He let his tongue slip in, tasting the sweet candy Shin so often chewed on. Shin hummed and Saint felt the vibrations in his spine.
Shin pulled back, and just like that — the magic was broken.
Saint looked at Shin through his lashes, trying to hide the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.
“I'll love you better in our next life.”
Saint whispered it like a prayer rather than a promise. Shin sighed, getting up from the floor, sitting on his chair at the kitchen table. The one where he always sat. He played with the knife Saint used to cut vegetables every day.
Shin smirked a dry kind of smile, before letting off a huff of disbelief. Saint watched him from the floor.
“Why not this one?”
He traced his finger along the silver blade, eyes fixed on Saint.
Saint watched from the floor, his chest bearing a void.
“You know why.”
“No I don't.”
Saint sighed, feeling his throat dry up. He got up to get a glass of water — he filled up two in habit.
“You're dead, ai’Shin.”
His voice held a barely hidden crack, the tender muscles in heart tearing at even the thought of those words. Saint placed the glass in front of Shin. The brown haired man stared at his reflection before looking back at Saint with a sigh.
“Then what? Are you talking to a ghost right now?”
Saint huffed, placing down his now empty glass.
“You tell me.”
Shin didn't. Didn't say a word. Just put his head down on the table, shaking his whole body like a wet cat. He placed his chin on the cold surface before looking back up at Saint, eyes narrowed — as if trying to read into his soul.
A beat passed. Saint lost the count of how many times the clock on his wall ticked.
“You're going to kill yourself tomorrow.”
Shin's voice was grave. It wasn't really a question, more of a statement. Saint wondered how he knew. Blinking, he placed his shaking hands on the table. The clock stopped ticking, as if it decided to watch them instead.
“...How do you know that?”
“I know everything about you, ai’Saint.”
Saint gulped, a stray tear sliding down his cheek. His hands curled into fist, nails digging into his palms.
“And what if I am?”
Shin sighed as he lifted his head, letting it fall lazily into his palm.
“Then I'd ask you why.”
Saint let his sobs wreck through him, body rocking. His tears fell hard and fast. He wiped his eyes, rubbing the snot from his nose. Shin watched with a smile, simply endeared.
“I — I fucking killed you Shin. I made you die!”
Shin exhaled before pulling his chair closer to the taller boy.
“You didn't, if I am dead — why am I still here, Saint?”
Saint didn't have an answer. How could he — he was probably making history by seeing a dead man in his room.
“I don’t — I don't fucking know. Fate’s cruel? Death did a half assed job!? I fucked up and now god is punishing me by giving me this stupid mirage of hope?! I don't — I —”
Shin stared as Saint spluttered. He reached over, wrapping a hand around Saint's fist, causing the younger to violently flinch. Saint breathed hard, his ribs heavy on his lungs. Shin's eyes softened.
“I’ll forgive you, Ai Saint.”
Saint let out a wet laugh.
“Of course you will. I won't. Can't.”
Shin pressed a kiss to Saint's tear stained cheeks, and Saint wondered if he tasted the salt. Shin reached for the knife. Saint held his breath as the blade kissed his skin.
Just when he thought it was going to tear his skin, Shin threw the knife.
It pierced the wall where Saint was once sitting. The walls of his house fell, as if made of paper. Shin got up from his seat, walking out the fallen wall.
Saint's heart stopped.
Suddenly — they were back at that intersection. Shin was carrying a bag full of Chingching's gifts. Saint had done something stupid. Shin was mad. They had a fight. Shin was doing that speed walk thing he did whenever he got angry with Saint. He hurried away from the younger, not looking at the road.
Saint tried to get up from the chair, but it was as if he had been tied to it now.
Saint tried to scream for Shin. No voice came out of his throat, which was suddenly dry as sand.
He tried to scream again, but all that came was a hoarse shriek.
Shin turned around on the road. He looked at Saint then flashed a smile.
Radiant at core.
He didn't see the truck.
Saint sat frozen in his kitchen chair, watching his world disappear beneath a flash of white.