dissident ｡ nct

10.1 ｡

It took a few moments for my boisterous rambles to comprehend within my head. I slapped my forehead immediately, wondering how worse I could possibly make this situation. As if hugging him unpromptedly wasn't enough, I had now called him cute and comfortable straight to his face. My cheeks were unbearably hot as my gaze instantly met my combat boots.

"Cute," I could hear him mumble, and my face darted up only to see him back in an odd position to throw knives again.

Jisung's legs were entangled within another, his shoulders much too stiff to properly throw a knife without injuring himself.

"Wait! Don't throw, let me fix your stance," I say, immediately rushing over to help. Hopefully, this would remove thinking as a function from my brain for a few moments.

Ignoring any lingering semblance of thoughts in my head, I immediately guide his legs and hands before urging him to relax, unaware of our close proximity. Only when I finished tilting his back do I notice how my hands have continuously roamed around him, and his red face as he stares down at me.

Anzhi, you've done it again, you clown.

The split second of eye contact had me stumbling backward, the rough combat boots almost causing me to trip as I rushed back to my own target space.

"Th-That should be g–good now! Yeah," my voice had reduced to murmurs as I focused on throwing my own knives again.

Jisung seemed to stand there in shock for a few moments before throwing the knife, landing closer and closer to the center with each try. I took that as a moment of success, happy that all of that embarrassment wasn't necessarily for nothing. I hoped I didn't make him uncomfortable, though.

"Second jumper! Get over here!" the ever-cold voice of Jaehyun doused me in a sheer cold chill.

Jaehyun calling on me never ended well, and I had no idea what was in store for me. Taking in a deep breath, I turned around, ready to make my way over to the fighting ring when his next few words caught my breath.

"The Know-it-all too! You're the next match!" he yelled out, the merciless voice echoing throughout the steeled training grounds.

I had to fight...Jisung?

I snapped my head toward him, worry-filled eyes meeting his startled black orbs as he stared back. Time seemed to disappear, still to ice, while my heart continued to race. I couldn't fight him. It took everything in me to hurt Hua even minorly. I couldn't bear so much as leaving a scratch on Jisung's face.

There's no way I can do this.

"Come on, chop-chop! We don't have all fucking day!"

Jaehyun's voice brought Jisung out of the illusion we were in as he walked past me, our shoulders brushing enough to bring me out of my trance as well. I maneuvered myself to the ring, eyes facing the bleak floor as I jogged. I didn't have the spirit to do this, not after how horrible my match with Hua was.

I was hoping Renjun or Haechan would be here to stop this madness, to stop me from fighting him. Yet, they were nowhere to be seen. I had no exit ticket.

As I climbed inside the obsidian fighting ring, my hands properly wrapped with tape as I took my stance, I could only reassure myself through false hope. I fooled myself into believing someone would be there to stop this madness—this absurdity. Yet hope dwindled as only the transfers crowded around us to watch, no other mentor insight.

The spark of hope completely diminished when Jaehyun blew the whistle with an omnipresent smirk, motioning for us to fight.

My eye landed on Jisung's form. The tall, handsome male never looked better within my eyes—from the unexposed facial features to his calm yet awkwardly stiff posture, he seemed as though he didn't mind. Yet what his face didn't give away was visible in the glints of the universe within his eyes, pupils dilating in worry and fear of the near future.