Fanfiction [MASHIKYU]

3 - 7

Mashiho

"JUNKYU!"

The strangled scream that leaves my body sounds like it came from someone else. The only thing that lets me know it was me is the ripping sensation in my throat as it claws its way out.

I don't think, I just move. I run in the direction I just saw Junkyu fall off the stage, disappearing out of sight, ready to jump after him, senseless, until a clammy hand grabs my arm and forcefully holds me in position.

"Mashi, no!" Yoshi, who I guess is the person keeping me here, shouts.

At first I think I'm having a derealisation episode, but that's not it. Everything is real, I don't feel like I'm in a dream, but it still feels like the world has been flipped upside down and my brain isn't working and my body is moving on its own.

The few seconds it takes for the staff to lower the stage are the longest few seconds of my life. When it's close enough to the ground that the jump seems reasonable I wrestle my arm out of Yoshi's iron grip with strength I didn't know I had, ignoring everyone's shouts of protest as I take a running leap off the elevated portion of the stage. I land on both feet at Junkyu's side just as a handful of crew members and our own staff come rushing towards him. He's lying flat on his back with his eyes closed.

"Junkyu," my throat is so raw from my scream that when I try to call his name for the second time, it comes out as barely a whisper.

I feel like I'm going to be sick. With numb hands I fumble with him and try to get him to sit up, to wake up, to be okay. The staff stay standing back but I'm on my hands and knees. His skin is pale and sweaty and he's limp as a rag doll in my arms. Then his eyes flutter open and something like a sob bursts out of me.

"Mashiho? What's... why..." He squints his eyes, looking very confused. "I... think I fainted?"

I can't speak. I can't form words. I think I'm crying but there are no tears coming out.

"Are you hurt, Junkyu? You just took a big fall," one of the staff asks.

Junkyu furrows his eyebrows together. He looks like he doesn't know how he got here, and a fresh wave of sickly panic consumes me.

"Did he hit his head?" I ask hoarsely, finding my ability to speak again.

A crew member shakes their head at me. "Not that I saw. But are you hurt, Junkyu?" he's asked again.

"No, I'm—" as he wriggles to get into a different position, he cuts himself off with an agonised scream that makes my hair stand on end, and falls back into my arms with his face scrunched up tightly and his teeth gritted.

My whole body is trembling but I try to keep it stable to support him. "What is it? What hurts?"

He barely manages to talk through his pained panting. Every jagged breath he takes is like a dagger to my chest. "My... my leg... my left leg... hurts... really bad..."

My eyes fly from his face to his left leg, and that's when I notice something's off about it. It's bent strangely, not quite at the knee.

"It might be broken," a voice says. "We should get you to hospital."

Junkyu tries to move again, then grips onto my arms tightly and buries his face into my shirt. "I can't move. I can't walk. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," I mumble, barely hearing myself as I stroke his back, although my arm movement is limited by his hands.

Although everything is crooked, this definitely isn't a derealisation. I'm more aware than ever of my heart pounding in my chest and the feeling of his fingers locked around my arms and my own sickening fear. I glance behind me and see all the other members crowded there, staring down at us with sweaty and terrified faces. This nightmare is reality.

Out of nowhere comes a stretcher, and suddenly Junkyu is being pried out of my arms and put onto it. I feel like a part of me is ripped off when they take him away from me. I'm broken into pieces when Hyunsuk tugs at my arm to lift me off the floor, then wraps his arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. This doesn't provide me with even the tiniest bit of comfort, because watching Junkyu get carried away from us, his face still contorted in agony, is too torturous. I look down at my shirt where his face was just pressed against, and see small wet patches that look like tear stains. He was crying so silently that I didn't realise.

But I'm not being silent. I'm out of control sobbing and Hyunsuk is holding me tightly and telling me everything will be fine and that Junkyu's going to be fine and I pray to everything that ever existed, exists or will exist that his words, that sound so empty, are true.