—Part 10.1—
Slow Poison
"Love could be labeled a poison, and we'd drink it anyway."
—Anzhi—
Once again, we were throwing knives.
I just happened to be placed right next to Jisung, who I'd been avoiding since that night—save for dinners where we'd all eat together. My fingers were now littered with tiny scars, red from irritation and the abuse I'd constantly pressure my hands into. I couldn't bring myself to focus and kept throwing the knives incorrectly.
Red. Red. Red. Red. Miss.
I sighed in frustration, fingers threading through the straight black strands before harshly tugging at the locks. I had no focus today. As I walked over to the target, I noticed Jisung from the corner of my eye doing the same.
I immediately looked away, knowing that even just the sight of the hamster's eyes would leave my face flushed in scarlet. And I was not going to risk him seeing that. I think I would truly die of embarrassment if I did.
As if hugging him wasn't enough...
I shake the thoughts out of my head, harshly plucking the knives out from the targets before falling into position again. Placing the knife within my right hand, my hand gripped the cool metal handle as I stepped back with my left leg, prepping myself to throw it again.
The whiff of black hair and tall legs entered the corner of my eye, and my eyes clouded as I threw the knife rather horrendously. The sound of metal hitting plastic rang within my ears as I trailed my eyes to the target in front of me.
A complete miss.
Just seeing the sight unconsciously twisted my face into disgust, and I shook my head as I prepared to throw the next knife.
"Uh...Anzhi," I heard the deep voice of the male next to me call out with hesitation.
My entire body tensed up as the conversation I was dreading to have had approached me faster than I wanted. I was hoping I could spend the next week—no, month—avoiding the humiliation that was bound to come from this conversation. Ever so slowly, I pivoted my body in his direction, unable to meet his eyes.
"Yes?" I managed to squeak out, praying that my voice maintained some sense of normalcy.
"Are you avoiding me?"
I couldn't stop the nervous giggles as they erupted from my stomach, tumbling out of my mouth. I truly wanted to fall into a hole at that moment—I couldn't bear the sheer mortification that washed over me in incessant waves, like that of an ocean under a full moon.
My head shot up as I shook my head, my hands frantically shaking as I tried to explain myself.
"It's not like I was purposely ignoring you every single time we met and sat on the rooftop during dinner so we didn't have to talk or anything! I just didn't know what to do, and I'm sure you would've felt awkward around me if I tried to talk to you, so I decided not to and just decided to try and completely erase that night on the rooftop from my mind, but clearly, I failed, and now I'm having this conversation which I didn't want to have and I totally blame you for being cute and that hug for being too comfortable."
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.
How could I hurt him?
"What are you waiting for?!" Jaehyun roared, and it dawned on me that I had no choice. I was trapped by my own greed and Jaehyun's orders, and I'd have to discard my compassion to get through this.
I closed my eyes, exhaling briefly.
Jisung, I'm sorry.
With that, I lunged toward his tall figure, aiming mostly for his pressure points to knock him out with the least amount of pain. Whereas I was more experienced in fighting, however, Jisung's naturally athletic build allowed him to dodge. I tried again, and again, and again, hoping that slight jabs here and there would be enough until I could finally take him down.
I failed, though.
Jisung took my reluctance as a golden opportunity to bash his knuckles straight into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me as I stumbled backward. The brute strength was sure to leave a bruise as I winced to get back into position.
He isn't holding back. I couldn't be this weak. We may be friends, but I had to set that aside if I didn't want to end up in the factionless, no matter how hard that is.
And so, I fought back with a new determination, permitting my instincts to take over as I prioritized speed over strength. I landed punch after punch, knocking him to the ground as he winced in pain over and over. Each hit was accentuated by a teardrop that cascaded down the sides of my face, displaying the pain of my actions to those that stood by and watched.
Soon, Jisung was winded out, almost paralyzed in place as I stood back up, releasing my breath. I thought I was done, but Jaehyun seemed to have other plans.
"Finish him," the icy voice cut through the tension, and fear washed over me.
He wanted me to finish him? To practically end his career as a Dauntless initiate? The guilt of doubt that Hua might have in that state left me restless, but truly finishing the job and signing the deal would've killed me alive.
I glanced down at the male on the ground, the beautiful facial features I'd come to adore contorted in pain that I'd caused. Guilt consumed me, and I knew I couldn't bring him more pain.
"No," my voice shook as I spoke barely above a whisper.
"What was that?!" Jaehyun exclaimed, baffled by my refusal.
"I-I said no!" I shrieked, turning around to face him.
Time seemed to stand still as no one dared to speak a word, tension encompassing every being as everyone froze at the sudden outburst.
Ever-so-slowly, Jaehyun climbed into the fighting ring, marching over to me before grabbing my hand. His grip seemed to burn into my left wrist, the overwhelming strength practically decimating the bones within the soft flesh. My eyes squeezed shut due to the pain, feet stumbling as I was led straight to the dagger station.
The moment his hand relinquished mine, I snapped my eyes open, finding myself standing right in front of the target board.
"Renjun," Jaehyun snapped, eyeing the younger trainer before motioning him to come over. Unable to refute, Renjun trudged over from the sandbags, wondering what he'd been called over for. "Throw the daggers. I wonder if the brave second jumper can stay put without flinching as daggers fly her way."
"Jaehyun-" Renjun's mouth parted in protest, trying to reason with the man.
"Now."
Seemingly without much thought, Renjun gently slid the first dagger into his right hand before he got into the right posture, ready to throw the knife.
My heart pounded, the sharpness of the metal I'd enjoyed throwing now illustrated within my brain as a way to paint my doom. How could I not flinch? How could I trust my life within Renjun's hands? It was outrageous. Did my defiance really warrant this? I had to go through Jaehyun's sadistic punishment all because I chose to save my friend?
I calmed my heart in seconds, though. I had chosen to do this—it was either this or crush Jisung's future in Dauntless. I couldn't do the latter, so I have to bear through the current situation.
And as the dagger brushed past his fingers to zoom toward me, blood rushed through my veins. My heart continued to pound, and my mind imploded. Memories upon memories of my past in Amity barraged my mind as life was played in a thirty-second movie, flashing before my eyes.
This anxious feeling was a slow poison—one I could only hope was worth the pain. Although at that moment, anything was worth it to save the boy who'd unknowingly grown on me.
Anything.