celestial strings | h.js

one.

Tears welled up when you opened your eyes and saw Jisung. Yours were frightened and embarrassed; his were pained and panicked. Seungmin grew confused when you flinched away, but he quickly caught up with the situation once he turned around and found all three of his friends standing by the porch. He cursed under his breath; he ran out of reasonable time to look for something in his locker.

Jisung hardened his gaze when he looked past Seungmin to find you scrambling with the red string on your hands. He could recall everything you said about your magic and every sight he has seen of you doing it. Red strings were for strong-type magic, like enhanced abilities. But technically, you could use any color strings for anything with the consequence of greater discomfort, like what happened the other day with the car crash. If there were one thing you would do now, it would be to run away.

You were running away. You were leaving him.

"Wait! [Name], please!"

Jisung leaped forward with his arm outstretched as if he could reach you from such a great distance. But you were gone in a second, not even sparing him another glance before the magic took you away. All that was left for him was the weight of his school bag hanging on his shoulders, the accidental scrape of his shoe against the edge of the porch steps, and a painful faceplant against the filthy ground.

Felix gasped in shock. Hyunjin stared with sympathy at Jisung's fallen body. Both of them were halted to an uncertain pause when Jisung's fists curled against the ground.

Tremors passed through Jisung's body because the fall was painful. His nose felt broken; it was not. His forehead felt to have grown a bump; it did not. His knees and the heels of his palms were scraped with dirt and blood—that was correct. In an attempt to brace himself, he had reached his arms out before he fell, causing his skin to screech past the ground violently. And his uniform pants would never save his knees from any fall.

It was painful. Everything was painful. He could only wish that his body remembers these injuries and his heart forgets the cause, because the heart was where it hurts the most.

Jisung missed you. There has not been a single empty moment without you infiltrating his head, taunting him of his misery and his desperate yearning for you. Jisung wanted you back. He wanted you back with him, sleeping and eating and laughing and talking. It was all he wanted.

He missed you, and he stopped being angry at you, and he was worried about you, and he was in love with you. He was so in love with you that it all turned into frustration, disappointment, and an impossible dream to return to wrestle himself for what he forgot to say. I'm angry at you right now, but I still love you. I still love you. I always will. Why didn't he turn around? Why did he stomp away? He could have salvaged this!

Oh, but who was he to have such wants? He was but a boy who uttered the most hurtful things to you. He was just a boy who kicked you while you were down on your knees, and you were never going to get back up again anyway! He was a boy who, for even a repulsive moment, acted on his capability to tear you to shreds; talking about you escaping your home, talking about you leaving your one family member behind, blaming you for everything. There was no reason for you to return to him after what he said to you. He didn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry–" Jisung drilled his forehead against the ground because he couldn't find a better way to make himself feel. Repulsed, pursed groans left his trembling lips as he dragged his skin along the dirt. He wanted to feel pain. He wanted to bleed. He wanted to feel beaten. He wanted his body to remember in return for his heart to forget. But the tears wouldn't stop falling, and his ears wouldn't stop ringing. "I'm sorry."

Broken murmurs of apologies trickled out his lips like ants piled into a line. Felix wiped his eyes with the hem of his sweater as he stumbled toward Jisung. The freckled boy knelt beside Jisung with soft hands tracing across Jisung's body. Felix attempted to slowly pick Jisung back up on his feet, ignoring the soured tip of his nose and the tearful redness at the corner of his eyes.

"Come on, Jisung," Felix pleaded. He placed his hand under Jisung's forehead to shield his vulnerable skin. "It's okay. Let's get up, Jisung. Please?"

Hyunjin stood frozen on his spot. He has never seen Jisung in such a wretched state. He has never seen Jisung weep like a child before. He did not know what to think of it. He did not know what to make of all of this. Was it all so bad that it had to come down to this? You did something wrong, too, did you not? But he could never put himself in your shoes to understand your trauma, so he has no say in how you should react to someone who dared to pinch your sore point.

But was all of this necessary? Avoiding each other, going radio silent, bloodying our hands, screaming unheard apologies into the air—was it all necessary?

"Help me, you guys!" Felix whispered desperately.

Hyunjin peered down at Felix before he eyed Seungmin. His brows furrowed. Seungmin noticed the faraway stare and looked up to maintain eye contact with Hyunjin. There was a short conversation of blame, questions, and demand. Seungmin should reach out to you, Hyunjin thought, but he was only told that there was no easy way to bypass interpersonal conflict. Seungmin refused to trick you into meeting a boy you were afraid of confronting, so he wouldn't.

Stepping forward, Hyunjin crouched beside Jisung and helped Felix pull him up. Hyunjin sighed heavily when Jisung's puffy red eyes met with his. He reached a hand up to delicately brushed off the dirt on Jisung's forehead, soothing over the bruised spot to earn a hiccuped flinch in response.

"Hyunjin, I miss them–" Jisung cried and hiccupped. "I miss [Name]."

"It's getting late," Hyunjin could only say. He was sorry he could not do more. "We should go home."

Seungmin fiddled with his fingers when he saw the bloodied heel of Jisung's palms. When the other two got Jisung to stand up and checked under his pants, Seungmin saw that Jisung's knees were also doing less than gracefully. He felt guilty for some reason. Perhaps someone in his position should be able to do more than wait and stay silent. If he pushed you a little bit more, maybe this could all be resolved. Sometimes overlooking a timid smile may be the solution.

"We should–" Seungmin cleared his throat. "We should go to the convenience store."

"The one [Name] works at."