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Changbin


There was a strong emotion filling every fiber of Changbin's being, but he couldn't tell what it was.

It wasn't rage.

Even though he was incredibly frustrated and disappointed, he didn't find it in him to be angry at neither Chan nor Han. He loved them far too much to resent them even in the slightest.

And how could he ever be angry at Chan when he knew all too well that no one was more affected by Han's departure than him. Chan was relentless and unforgiving when it came to his own mistakes. He was hurting enough as it was, who was Changbin to rub even more salt into the wound. Chan would punish himself stronger than Changbin ever could or would, stronger than he ever deserved.

So no, Changbin wasn't angry. Frustrated maybe, but not angry.

It wasn't sadness either, though the emotion was also currenting through him.

The sadness was strong enough for him to feel the pricking of tears in the corner of his eyes. They threatened to spill as his legs carried him to the teleportation chamber. Still, he knew that this wasn't the emotion that was currently overwhelming him.

This powerful emotion was something else.

A chuckle almost escaped his lips. Ironic, really, that it was him who struggled to discern an emotion. Shouldn't that be his forte?

And it wasn't like he couldn't perceive his emotions at all. He knew there was that hint of frustration and sadness, mixed with some desperation and confusion as well as the stinging feeling of betrayal.

Why would Han leave them?

He just couldn't understand it. What had driven the human to leave them behind like that.

Did they mean nothing to him?

Changbin knew the thought was ridiculous, but he couldn't help but think it, nonetheless.

Why else would Han leave like that?

Maybe Changbin shouldn't have told him about them being the levanters and the ginormous threat that they were about to face. Maybe it had scared Han off.

Changbin scoffed at that. He couldn't believe that explanation for even a second. Though Han had left like a coward, Changbin knew he wasn't one.

Changbin trudged through the high grass. There had to be another reason, but whatever it was, he wished Han would have confided in him – anyone of them for that matter – instead of leaving quietly. The letter might explain Han's reasoning, but it gave them no chance of convincing him otherwise. Giving them no chance to make Han stay.

If Han wanted to leave for real, he'd be far gone by now, Changbin was certain of it. Han was no one to do things half-heartedly.

Though Changbin wished it was different.

A sigh escaped the deep shadows of his soul, making him sound much older than he was. Slowly he dropped his body to the cold ground, crossing his legs and folding his arms.

"Why did he leave?", he whispered, or more so croaked, his voice rough and tender at the same time. "Why did he leave after we've just gotten him back?"

His gaze wandered from Han's empty grave over to his parents', eyes lingering on their joint tombstone.

He wished his parents were here. He wanted them to wrap their arms around him, comfort him, explain to him that Han needed to find his own way, even if it hurts. That Han needed to decide his own fate.

8 is fate // Stray KidsWo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt