Chapter Text
Ivan turned to look at Till through the curtains of rain pouring down on them. Till’s head was bowed and he had stopped singing, hands clenching the mic harshly. He had given up. He was ready to die.
But Ivan wasn’t ready to let go of Till. Ivan had called Sua selfish for sacrificing herself for Mizi and becoming a trauma for her. Now he wished he could take back those words as he, like the hypocrite he is, dropped his own mic and crossed the distance over to Till.
If he was going to go, he was going to go without regrets.
He crashed their lips together. Till’s eyes widened in surprise, and he didn’t ease into the contact. Instead he pushed away. Ivan held him closer. He wasn’t ready to let go of Till, and neither was he ready to die, admittedly. But for Till, it was worth it.
“Iv—” Till tried to protest, all words dying in his throat as Ivan’s hands wrapped around his neck. Ivan wasn’t going to choke him. He was going to pretend he was. Just so that he may be eliminated, and Till may move on.
Till gasped but he was no longer afraid, nor confused. He let his eyes flutter shut, waiting for the moment Ivan would strangle him to death. Ivan’s heart ached as he watched Till give up so easily, so willing to die at the hands of his best friend.
Ivan spared a glance towards the scoreboard hovering above their heads. Till’s points were increasing while his were dropping. Good. This was exactly how things were supposed to play out. He brought Till in for another kiss just as he felt the first bullet pierce him. He winced against Till’s mouth. The pain was sharp and excruciating, but it wasn’t enough to knock him off his feet. Another bullet hit him in the shoulders. It hurt so much.
He didn’t want to die.
But this was for the best.
He felt a harsh pain in his neck and gurgled, blood trickling down his chin and onto his white collar. Till’s eyes opened, looking at him with fear, as Ivan let go of him.
He offered Till one last smile, as if to apologise for everything, before dropping to the ground at Till’s feet. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
“Wake up, you doofus,” a familiar voice hissed in his ear. Startled, Ivan lifted his head only to be met with blinding, artificial light. Was he dead? Once his eyes got used to the light, he took a good look around. He was in a room with other people no older than him. In front of them all was a man pointing to something on the board behind him.
Where the hell was he?
One second he was kissing Till. Then he was dead.
And now he was… alive?
Feeling a faint sensation on his arm, he looked down. Someone was doodling random stuff on his arm. And that someone was… Till. Undeniably so. The same grey locks, the same teal, cat-like eyes, the same concentrated look as he continued doodling on Ivan’s arms rather than doing whatever the whole class was, which was copying down whatever the… teacher (?) was talking about.
“Till, you’re alive?”
It worked. Did his plan work?
He wasn’t dead?
Was he dreaming then?
Had he gone mad?
“Yeah,” Till drew a smiley face onto his arm with X’s for eyes.
“I’m alive?” He felt around his face. Was he truly alive?
Till paused his doodling to shoot the most bewildered look at Ivan, “No, you’re dead.”
“Wait really?” His heart plummeted. Then how was this all possible?
“Oh my god,” he face-palmed, “I was joking. You’re clearly alive, idiot.”
“I am?” He let out a relieved sigh. But then where was the alien stage?
“Did you perchance leave your one functioning braincell in the cafeteria?” Till scowled at him.
This Till was different than his Till. This Till was more energetic. His Till had lost his spark and was ready to give up life. This Till also had a slightly different sense of fashion, dressed in ripped, black clothing with hints of red, and wearing a matching beanie that clashed against his light hair.
But he was still Till.
“I think so?” Ivan shrugged, unsure of what he was supposed to say. He still couldn’t wrap his head around everything.
He looked at his right, and audibly gasped. Sua. Sua was sitting right next to him. She was alive! He wasn’t particularly close with her, but he was still overjoyed to see her alive. He whispered, “Sua? Is that you?”
Sua turned to look at him. She, unlike Till, didn’t look confused. She almost looked like she understood. But if that truly was the case, she didn’t say anything, choosing to focus on the teacher instead.
He nudged Till again, “Sua’s alive too!” He exclaimed.
“Well, yeah, she’s been alive for the past 17 years,” Till had resumed his doodling on a different surface— his notebook.
“Oh my g—”
“Till! Ivan!” The intimidating teacher called out. All eyes turned to look at the pair. Did he do something wrong? Probably not, considering how unaffected Till looked.
“Is whatever you’re talking about more important than my class?” He crossed his arms.
Till opened his mouth to utter some cocky remark, but Ivan was quicker, “Yes, actually!” He said genuinely, unaware that that was not what he was supposed to say in this situation.
Next to him, Till laughed in his hand, trying to trap the sound within his fingers. Ivan smiled, a warm and fuzzy feeling bubbling in his gut as he made Till laugh.
“That’s it! Detention for you both, one hour after school.”
Detention sounded like a bad thing, judging by the expressions of everyone around them. Only Sua looked unimpressed. Something like sympathy briefly crossed over her face. As if she understood his confusion.
“Way to go, man,” Till whispered.
“Thank you, I guess.”
Till snickered again.
“Oh, and uh, what’s detention?”
Till’s laughter died out, replaced with the most deadpan expression instead, “Were you always this dumb?”