Hallo!! This is just a copy; the owner-publisher-author of this fanfic is adorableprince
I publish this on watpadd just a tribute, txh.
Title: countdown(12k+)
Rating: pg-13
Cast: kaisoo, minor baekyeol
Genre: romance, tragedy
Length: twoshoot(1/2)
Author: adorableprince
Jongin sees the world in numbers.
There are four lamp posts lining the street outside his apartment, two bushes next to his front door. He has only one neighbor instead of two because his place is nestled away in the corner of the street where the sound of passing cars fails to travel the distance to his second story window. On the other side of his apartment is a park with three tennis courts and two volleyball nets that he has never used before and will most likely never use in the future.
It takes him approximately five hundred and twenty seven steps to reach the bus stop that leads to his university, maybe less if he walks with longer strides. And when the bus arrives, students pack in like sardines in a vehicle meant to carry only fifty with seats provided for the lucky thirty that get there first. Jongin is never lucky.
He stands in the aisle, one hand clasped firmly around the cool metal bar above him and he sways to the gentle rhythm of stop signs and traffic lights, peering over the heads of those standing in front of him into what should be empty air but isn't. Glaring red numbers swim before him, hovering over the heads of people, no two numbers quite the same.
His eyes glance over at the snoozing boy who is resting against a window, headphones plugged into his ears. Above his head, the numbers 65:10:03:21:45:08 stare unwaveringly back. The girl texting rapidly on her phone next to him has numbers that are slightly different―67:09:17:11:43:50. It's always six numbers and always counting down.
For as long as Jongin can remember, he's seen these numbers without knowing why. No one else sees them and no one else believes him when he says that he does, that numbers float above people's heads and paint the world a bright shade of crimson. It takes him ten years to understand what the numbers mean.
Ten year old Kim Jongin stands at an intersection, his mother holding on to his hand and humming a merry tune, when a blur of running limbs and alcohol induced confusion darts out into the street where the light is green and cars are still zipping by. There's a crash, the sickening crunch of metal meeting fragile skin and bones. Screams fill the air and he recognizes the shrill screech of his mother's voice as she pulls him back and tries to shield his eyes from the gruesome sight sprawled across the road.
Jongin stares at the rapidly growing puddle of blood and thinks that it's a different sort of red than he's used to seeing but that's not what his eyes are focused on. Despite the frantic tugging and desperate yells, Jongin manages a glimpse through his mother's shaking fingers and he can't bring himself to look away from the numbers above the man's head.
00:00:00:00:13:24.
He's never seen that many zeroes in a person's number before and a creeping sense of comprehension filters through Jongin's brain, forcing its way to the front of his mind. By the time the ambulance arrives, there are ten zeroes and an eleven resting in the air. Before they can even strap the man onto the stretcher, the last number dwindles down to a zero as well.
The man is pronounced dead.
Jongin takes large gulps of air like it's the only thing that will prevent the world from collapsing around him. He stumbles back into the safety of his mother's arms, his vision distorting with tears that threaten to spill over. Even through the film of salt and staggering realizations, twelve blazing zeroes blink furiously at him and Jongin finally knows what the numbers are.
