Sorry I'm taking so long to update. School doesn't make it any easier. But to those of you who are still reading, thanks for sticking with it for so long and being so patient with me.
TW for referenced slut-shaming and suicidal ideation.
...
Once the holiday period ends, the euphoria of it is gone. It's like the magic of it all has been sucked into a black hole. Or it's been taken from everyone, placed in a lock box to hold until the next holiday period. Either way, things feel significantly hollow now, knowing the military's kindness is only conditional. As Joonyeong follows Captain Na down the hall to Dr. Moon's office, the weight in his heart is quickly returning. The joyous high he felt from the winter holidays is close to nonexistent now.
Guilt and confusion gnaw at his gut constantly, relentless in its infliction of pain as intrusive thoughts creep into his mind. Though Woojin's love confession was undoubtedly sincere, Joonyeong has no idea whether he was in the right state of mind. Neither of them were. While Woojin was processing the news of his parents' deaths, Joonyeong was too shocked by this sudden declaration. What if Woojin just said it because Joonyeong seemed more understanding than Ha-ri? What if he wasn't thinking clearly? What if he doesn't love him as deeply as he implied? What if—
The door swings open to Dr. Moon's office.
"Good morning, Dr. Moon."
And the monotonous routine continues.
As he's done since November, he sits on the chair in the corner and extends his arm. Dr. Moon updates him on the progress of their research like she always does, with the new information that they have finally managed to scrape a full zombie sample. Three milliliters, to be exact. And then she goes on about how they're working so hard to find a cure, and that Joonyeong shouldn't fret too much.
He's tired. He's so fucking tired. His mood is fluctuating so much these days. One day, he's unreservedly happy, like on Christmas or the first day of snow, but other times, he feels so down that he can imagine a thick, black cloud encapsulating his head, fogging everything up, suffocating him. There are too many things for him to process, too many things for him to think about. In two years, he'll be twenty, and then what will he do? In that timespan of two years, Soo-wi won't have him as her legal guardian, which will affect pretty much all of her legal affairs. He doesn't know who else can take care of her as well as he will. He doesn't trust anyone else.
When Dr. Moon finally finishes taking his samples, he gets up, ready to leave, but he's stopped by her beckoning.
"Can I show you something?"
Joonyeong turns slowly, eyeing her suspiciously. What the hell could she possibly want?
Against his better judgment, he nods.
"Perfect!" says Dr. Moon, clapping her hands together. "Come."
She stands to her full height, which is around three inches shorter than Joonyeong, before heading to the door. Opening it, she gestures for him to follow.
Nodding once again, Joonyeong passes through the clinic's threshold and begins making his way down the hall. He's never been in this area of the prison before, so a tingling excitement passes through his body. The corridor slowly gets darker and darker, and the peeling paint seems to multiply exponentially. The farther he and Dr. Moon go, the more evident it is that they're living in a very long-abandoned prison. Lights seem to flicker a tad more the more distance they cover.
Joonyeong wants to ask Dr. Moon where she's taking him as they turn a corner into an even darker hallway. Why does she want to show him something in a clearly restricted area all of a sudden? What's the occasion?
"If you don't know yet, you and your classmates are scheduled to leave the camp next Friday."
This stops Joonyeong in his tracks.
"W-we are?"
Dr. Moon turns to him.
"Yes. I received word this morning. I'm not sure when they were planning to tell you, but in case they take too long, I wanted to let you know. You can tell your friends if you want."
Joonyeong nods, suddenly feeling dazed.
"If you want to know why you're leaving, I'd be the wrong person to ask," she continues, somehow gleaning the contents of Joonyeong's thoughts. "I'm not sure why they want you to leave so soon. There's no logical reason I can think of."
"So...it's just us? No one else?"
"To my knowledge, your school was the only one the military rescued survivors from before they bombed the city." Dr. Moon's face turns slightly gray. "They left everyone else to die."
She continues forward, and Joonyeong follows her lead. He never had particularly kind thoughts when it came to Dr. Moon, dismissing her as yet another one of them who truly didn't care nor understand their plight. But it seems, telling from what she revealed just now, that she does care–-at least a little. She's not completely heartless. While this wouldn't have changed Joonyeong's opinion of her had they met before the outbreak, said opinion has changed now. Perhaps because he now has so few adults to rely on, he clings onto whoever he can. After all, people like Lieutenant Song only come around once in a blue moon. They're painfully rare, even without a zombie apocalypse driving them forward.
After rounding another corner, Joonyeong starts getting impatient. Just how big is this prison?
"Not much longer now," murmurs Dr. Moon. "And...here we are."
The pair stops at a lone cell. The rest of the cells are either abandoned or too uninhabitable for a person to occupy. Joonyeong's eyebrows crease together as Dr. Moon fishes out some keys and unlocks the door.
In that second, Joonyeong's stomach lurches a bit, vividly feeling both the fear and disgust at the sight before him.
"What...what is that?"
In the corner of the tiny room, a heap of limbs and hair lay tangled together, the entire form resembling a sort of blob. He can make out a pair of lips, and perhaps there's a bit of skin, too. But the state of this person is...horrendous. Grisly. Not to mention that they look no older than eighteen, which is how old Joonyeong will be in a little over two weeks. What's the strangest is that they're wearing the classic Hyosan High skirt.
He backs away instinctively when the heap stirs, the limbs untangling and hair lifting from the ground. And now, he knows for sure it's a girl, but she's so malnourished that she barely looks human, let alone feminine. Her hair straggles down her shoulders, reaching just past her elbows, and it's matted to the point that shaving it off would be the only answer. Her eyes, which he can barely see through her hair, have a wild, hazy look. Her body trembles, but at the same time, she's clearly trying to stay strong.
"Allow me to introduce you to a classmate of yours," whispers Dr. Moon.
Joonyeong snaps his head to the doctor, his jaw going slack. He then turns his head back to the girl in front of him. She cowers in the corner, looking painfully small as she stares at the pair of them like a frightened animal.
"What's her name?"
Dr. Moon's expression grows solemn.
"Min Eunji."
Joonyeong can just about recognize the name, but he only has a vague idea of who the name belongs to. He remembers her class number, 2-1, which explains how she got here separately. But where is the rest of her class? Why has he never seen her? Why is she sitting here, alone, away from the rest of the camp residents?
"Though you don't know each other, you share something," Dr. Moon explains. "Like you, she is an anomaly. Or, as I've heard you describing it, a half-zombie."
Joonyeong nods, processing the information. A half-zombie. Like me.
"Wait—why haven't you brought Choi Namra here?" he questions, suddenly remembering that their class president is a half-zombie as well.
Dr. Moon gives him a wry smile.
"When you're the child of a politician, it's best to not know much." After all, you don't have anyone else, seems to go unsaid. You can know everything.
Joonyeong doesn't like the preferential treatment he's clearly being given, but perhaps she's saving Nam-ra from something.
Maybe he is the one who's getting the short end of the stick.
"I'll leave you to talk," she finishes. "Find me in my office when you're done."
With a curt nod—perhaps of assurance—she leaves him by the cell's opening. Then, she turns a corner, and he's truly alone in this place.
"You're Oh Joonyeong, right?" comes a quiet voice, making him jump. He turns in Min Eunji's direction, quickly growing nervous.
"Y...yes." He gulps, swallowing a huge lump in his throat. "How do you know?"
Eunji hugs her knees to her chest. She moves some hair from her face, fully exposing her features. They're delicate. Soft. A single shout would make them shatter.
"You were one of the smartest in our grade," she replies. "The robotics club won every competition, and your face was on every picture."
Joonyeong feels himself blushing at the memory. Eomma and Appa were always so proud whenever his face ended up on the front cover of the school's newspaper. He was always smiling with glee, so proud of his teammates, and so proud of himself for helping them succeed in matches. The club's president, Yoo Donghoon, praised Joonyeong a lot. Before the outbreak, Donghoon had been talking to Joonyeong about taking his place as president. But that was then.
Now, there is no club anymore.
Taking a deep breath, Joonyeong musters enough courage to take a single step into the cell. He twists back slowly, carefully shutting the door. He still flinches at the loud creak of the unoiled hinges.
"I heard her saying that you're like me."
Joonyeong faces Eunji once more. Exercising even more caution, he takes another step, turning to the side, leaning against the wall. Sweat prickles on the back of his neck.
"Why aren't you here?" Eunji continues, frowning slightly. "They should've taken you here."
"Who?" Joonyeong presses.
"The soldiers," she answers plainly. Her eyes look empty, as if her soul has been thoroughly sucked out of her. Lowering her head, she uses the hair that falls in front of her face as a shield. She hugs her knees tighter, toeing the ground with the sole of her incredibly worn shoe. "I'm so hungry...why haven't they given me my meal yet?" She lifts her head then, the face shield falling apart. She juts her chin slightly, a show of defiance.
"How did you end up here?" It's his burning question, Joonyeong realizes. He wants to know why her hair is so matted and her body so dirty. Why haven't they changed her out of the clothes from before? Have they not given her any new clothes?
"I was too dangerous for them," she answers, her voice once again plain. She looks much too calm for Joonyeong's liking. "I was hungry, and they punished me for it."
A sudden realization hits him, and his chest goes cold.
The student's death...the zombie break-in...
"It was you," he breathes.
At his accusation, Eunji sits straighter. She tilts her head to the side, wondering. A terrible smile crosses her face.
"They wouldn't give me anything to eat," she continues, sounding perfectly undisturbed. "There's no one left to help me. My mom's dead. Cheolsoo's dead." She murmurs something under her breath, obviously so Joonyeong can't hear, but he hears anyway:
At this point, even my naked body won't outlive me.
"What naked body?" Joonyeong prompts. He deliberately slows his breathing when it starts to get quick, and he grounds himself.
"My friend, Kim Cheolsoo...well, not really. He was a fucking coward. Even when he claimed to like me, he let me go, knowing I'd die. He wouldn't help me."
Eunji isn't making much sense right now, but Joonyeong can tell there's a bigger story to it. He stays silent, allowing her to continue.
"Son Myunghwan, you know him?"
Joonyeong nods. Everyone knew about Son Myunghwan and his gang of bullies.
"He made Cheolsoo film me...with my top off." She shudders, hugging her knees even tighter. "He—Cheolsoo—was such a fucking coward," she repeats, rocking back and forth slightly. "He liked me, but couldn't be assed to fight for me." With the back of her hand, she brushes the areas on her face near her eyes. She crosses her ankles, making herself look even smaller.
"I'm sorry. That shouldn't have happened to you," Joonyeong automatically responds. What else is he supposed to say?
Eunji lowers her head, unbothered. She stares at the concrete for a long time, possibly thinking about his statement. And then she looks up, her expression startlingly serene.
"They kept me in a testing room," she says. "The room wasn't like the movies you see, where you're chained to a wall. It was nice. They didn't strap me to the bed like that other guy. But I guess he was a full zombie." She lets out a long breath. "One day, a soldier came to me. He was one of the nice ones. Said, 'It wasn't your fault, was it? You couldn't help it.'"
Is she talking about Lieutenant Song? Joonyeong's fingers curl in slightly, feeling a new kind of fear. It's something deeper than he can comprehend, burning him from the inside. He can't have been the one to let Eunji out.
If he was...
"He told me I could walk around for a bit, but only for fifteen minutes," Eunji goes on. "I was too hungry, though." And finally, finally, a shade of regret appears on her face. "The first whiff I got of a human set me off. And then I was taken away, but not to that nice testing room. They dragged me...here."
Joonyeong stumbles back a little when she presses her palms to the floor, pushing herself up on her feet, rising to her full height. He realizes she's quite tall, almost the same height as Eomma. He's backed into the wall as she steps closer, closer, closer, until their noses are merely inches apart. Joonyeong clenches his fists, ready to fight her off if she tries something, because by God, if she does...
"You and I are no different," whispers Eunji in a tone no different from Gwinam's when he said the same thing. "But...you're not here." She jabs a finger at Joonyeong's chest, pressing it hard into his sternum. "You're not here. You're not fucking suffering!" Now, Eunji's screaming in his face, and his enhanced hearing makes the loud noise unbearable. It's like two hammers are taking turns swinging at his skull, hitting as hard as they can, as his brain vibrates like the impact of a set of crash cymbals. "Why, huh?! Why does it always have to be me?!"
The desire to throw her off multiplies in strength. Who is she to talk to him like this? What does she know about his suffering? He lost Appa. He lost Eomma. He has a little sister to raise on his own. And, on top of everything, he has to contend with a monster inside, begging for release, but won't get it because he won't let it win.
"You're the top of the class, right?" Eunji taunts, leaning uncomfortably close. "Or was it that bitch who got everything through her mother? Who didn't have to lift a finger to get everything?"
Before he knows what he's doing, Eunji is sprawled on the floor again, her back having been slammed against the wall.
"Don't call her a bitch," hisses Joonyeong, taking a threatening step towards her. He doesn't recognize his own voice, but he relishes its anger. He hasn't felt this way in a long time, and he doesn't want to let it go. He needs this energy.
"Even when the world has ended, there are still preferences," Eunji replies, viciously spitting out the last word. Her true self—angry, bitter, frustrated—is finally out in the open, unhidden by her meek façade. "The good kids, the unsoiled kids, don't have to suffer even if they like eating human flesh, but of course, of course, it's the fucking slut who bears the brunt of it all." She stands back up, roughly brushing the hair from her face. "Tell me, is any of this right? If they keep me here, they keep you here. For once, I want something good to happen to me without someone else ruining everything. It's not much to ask, is it?"
Even though Joonyeong hates the injustice, even though he hates what Eunji has had to go through, he doesn't feel sympathy. No matter how much she has suffered, her past actions are unforgivable. She has no room to pull the victim card anymore.
"I had to clean up your mess, Min Eunji," he snarls, not including Nam-ra so he doesn't out her. "Those soldiers? They took me and made me clean up your mess." Though Eunji looks unfazed, he steps closer. "Everyone's suffering. You're not the only one."
"You talk about everyone as if Cheolsoo was innocent. Because I know you think so," she whispers right back, her tone simmering with rage. Eunji crosses her arms, not backing down. "Didn't I tell you? He was a coward. A fucking coward."
Her eyes are stormy. A hurricane brews in them, a result of years' worth of pent-up anger.
"I am done being a victim," she proclaims. "You can live your nice life, but you can't make me feel sorry." Her voice lowers to a death pitch. "I...don't...regret...anything."
For a while, Joonyeong just stands there. Eunji brought out something he thought he'd buried when he killed Gwi-nam. He truly does relish in his anger, in his bitterness at everything he's lost. He feels so alone. There's no Eomma to ground him, no Appa to encourage him. Soo-wi and Woojin can't fill those spots, nor will he make them. But do they understand he can't be there forever? Don't they know it's only a matter of time? But then, he steps back.
His fist tightens. His eyes burn. No, don't cry in front of her, don't cry...
Eunji leans in once more, a crazed glint in her eyes.
"How'd you escape this hell?" she murmurs, her breath ghosting his nose. "What did you tell them?"
Joonyeong takes a step back, increasingly discomforted by her close proximity.
"I told them nothing," he replies, toneless. "They wanted to perform tests, and I consented."
"So you offered up your body, like a slut," Eunji concludes, and it sounds like she genuinely means it. "Yoon Gwi-nam...he'd lap that shit up like a sponge. That bastard," she then chuckles to herself. "He'd take it, run online, and ruin your name in a heartbeat."
The mere mention of Gwi-nam brings that monsterish anger back. Joonyeong's fist curls tighter. His nails dig painfully into his palm, so strong that he feels the skin breaking, the blood seeping through the little nail-shaped cuts.
He ignores it.
"You don't know him, probably," Eunji continues, quieter. "He was one of Son Myung-hwan's lackeys."
Don't know him? Joonyeong thinks darkly. He presses his nails even harder. Oh, if you only knew...
He finally realizes where Eunji's anger is coming from. Yoon Gwinam must've utterly ruined her life, irrevocably destroyed it, long before he destroyed Joonyeong's. This is why she's bitter. And...
She's numb. That explains her indifference. Her wicked pleasure.
You know what? Fuck this.
"You're wrong."
His revelation is a head-turner for Eunji, who stands straight as a plank. By this time, Joonyeong is very much caught in the moment. He stares at Eunji, giving the girl a burning look. Then:
"I was the one who killed him."
And now, Eunji is really interested. She's no longer acting hostile, and instead somewhat friendly, as she tilts her head to the side, quizzical.
"You...killed him?" She steps forward, leaving a respectable amount of space between them. "What did he do?" she whispers excitedly, as though they're talking about the school's latest gossip.
Joonyeong, who feels a sick sort of pride for being the one to end Gwinam's life, lets out a long sigh. The way she asks is so off-putting, like she gets off of her enemies suffering (which she probably does). While he definitely felt a certain catharsis as he was putting an end to Gwinam, he's still so haunted by it, wondering if he's a monster by doing what he did. But still, he doesn't deny her an answer.
"He...killed my mother."
He gulps, hating to revisit this memory, but at the same time discovering a curious sense of kinship with Eunji. It feels oddly freeing to relate to someone on this level, no matter how twisted her mind has become.
In the end, Gwinam destroyed them. He ruined their lives, leaving in them scars that will never heal.
Eunji sniffles some, and Joonyeong is about to wonder why before she says, "I hope my mom is all right." She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "She cared for me so much...I hope my naked body wasn't the last thing she saw before she...before she..." She sniffles again, much louder this time. When she looks up at the ceiling, Joonyeong sees the tears that prickle the corners of her eyes. Then, she turns away from him, beginning to shake with soft cries.
Ah.
He realizes he now has a window so he can slip away to try and process it all. But as he's about to, he notices something as he thinks over Kim Cheolsoo's cowardice.
He got here before her, didn't he?
If he did, does it mean that he left them behind—long before the military did?
He escaped from the roof. There's no other way he could've gotten out of the school so quickly. But there's always the chance he escaped through a different route...
"You talk about everyone as if Cheolsoo was innocent. Didn't I tell you? He was a coward." Eunji crosses her arms, not backing down. "A fucking coward."
The horrific realization crashes down on him in waves, even as he asks Eunji for confirmation.
"Yah. Did your friend get here before you?"
Eunji turns, tear tracks running down her cheeks, as she frowns quizzically.
"Huh?"
"Your friend, Cheolsoo. Was he already here when you arrived?"
Eunji, who looks terribly meek like before, stares at him incredulously.
"Isn't it obvious?"
That's all the answer Joonyeong needs. He's immediately brought back to when Su-hyeok was banging on the door, to when Dae-su was body-slamming it, and even to when he, himself, was desperately trying to figure out the code of the door.
None of it would've happened if not for that fucking coward.
God...they would've all been saved. Jimin would still be with them.
I wouldn't be living in this hell...
He backs away. He feels like he's going to vomit.
Oh God, oh God, oh GOD—
He quashes down the nausea, hastily feeling for the doorknob. His breathing is already getting much too quick, escaping him before he can even inhale. His heart's starting to race like he's run a marathon.
"I—I have to go."
And then, he does, running down the corridor so fast that there wouldn't have been a difference between him and a cheetah.
—
He doesn't make it to his cell.
Just shy of Dr. Moon's office, he stumbles forward, falling to the ground. His breathing has fallen so short that he can't even cry for help. He's gasping, crying, crying—
He left us that bastard left us he FUCKING LEFT US TO DIE—
He cradles his head now, barely breathing, gasping desperately for the air that won't come. He's taking huge gusts of breath, but it's not working. Why won't it come? Why won't it come? His throat's closing up, he's choking now, choking—
Ican'tbreatheIcan'tbreatheIcan'tbreathe—
He claws at his scalp, grasping at threads. His heel kicks against the wall. But to no avail. He's losing even more air, there's no one there, no one will help him, everything's growing colder—
And then, nothing.
—
Kangdae taps his foot, wondering why Joonyeong hasn't come back yet. The kid's usually back by seven-thirty, but it's eight forty-two now. He's very late. Glancing down at the meat package, he wonders if the sampling is taking longer than expected. It shouldn't be the case. Unless...they've figured out something. Research has been going at a terribly slow rate, even by Kangdae's standards. If they really have figured out something, it'll be a miracle.
He's particularly anxious this morning. In his office, there are many, many files dedicated to the Oh siblings, all for one purpose. Today's the day he can finally tell them. But only if Joonyeong comes back from that blasted appointment.
"Lieutenant Song!"
Captain Na Seoktae is running towards him, clearly in a frenzy.
"Yes?"
He stops in front of him, wiping some sweat from his forehead.
"Oh Joonyeong had an attack of sorts. He's in the infirmary."
What?
The meat package falls from his hands. Ice pierces through his chest.
"W-why're you telling me?" His voice has grown noticeably shallow as he struggles to swallow the lump that's formed in his throat. "What about his friends?"
"You think I don't know?" he replies intuitively, rolling his eyes. "Go. Quickly."
Nodding, Kangdae speeds off, his heart pounding in worry. He doesn't question how Captain Na knows, because he knows how perceptive he can be.
The meat package is left forgotten.
—
When Joonyeong comes to, he feels extremely heavy. It's like an enormous boulder has been settled on his chest, his limbs sunken in the mattress to the point of permanence. He draws in a slow breath, letting his eyes fall open. Though it takes a second to adjust to his surroundings, he blinks in rapid succession, clearing up the blurriness in his eyes.
Now that he can see, he instantly recognizes the type of room he's in.
The infirmary?
Everything comes back to him—Eunji, her anger, his fear...
All because Cheolsoo left us behind.
He chuckles at the irony of it all. Because of one puny coward, they were left to die. And my humanity grows smaller by the day.
Joonyeong gulps, carefully removing his arms from under the thick blanket. Now that he thinks about it, said blanket—warm and thick with soothing fabric—explains the heaviness on his chest. He notices that he's still in the clothes he's been wearing before, which somehow increases his intrinsic feeling of disgust.
Fuck...I really am a broken mess.
What happened to him isn't unfamiliar. He's here because of an anxiety attack. Quite unceremonious, he thinks wryly as he rolls his head as far back as he can. Eunji's wing of the prison is clearly still abandoned; it's the perfect place to hide her. The military really is crueler than he thought.
He stares up at the ceiling, contemplating. Who is he kidding? He and Nam-ra should be there, too, in case their urges overpower them. Though Joonyeong would be scared, Nam-ra would agree—perhaps another reason why she always came out on top. For all that she was pressured, she was always responsible. Even when he hated her, he knew that.
He flinches hard when the door suddenly swings open, but he relaxes instantly when he sees who stands under the threshold.
At Lieutenant Song's appearance, Joonyeong hazards a small smile.
"Hi, Lieutenant."
His state is quite unexpected as he breathes hard, leaning on the threshold for support. His hair is slightly windswept, which makes Joonyeong realize he's been running. Looking up from the ground, the lieutenant whispers, "I heard what happened. You all right, son?"
Lieutenant Song calls him by that endearment sometimes, which is too often for it to now cause a sudden strike to his heart. Joonyeong doesn't understand. Obviously, he appreciates how Lieutenant Song helped him throughout his time here, but oddly enough, he doesn't feel more home than now.
Home...
Sitting up is a mistake—the moment he does, Joonyeong's head is spinning, and he's about to fall sideways before Lieutenant Song lunges forward and catches him.
"Careful," he admonishes lightly. He holds Joonyeong, steadying him, as he guides him back to his flat-backed position. This causes yet another strike to his heart, a fuzzy warmth washing over him with care. It's almost as if...
"Who told you I was here?" He realizes that there's no way Lieutenant Song could've come upon this information on his own.
Lieutenant Song sighs, pulling up a chair to sit beside Joonyeong. "One of the captains told me." A look of worry flits across his face. "But are you okay, Joonyeong ah? Is there anything going on?"
Joonyeong's eyebrows knit as he frowns. Why is Lieutenant Song asking? Yes, he pays special attention to him, but that can't mean anything beyond his exceptionally good soul. He helps his friends, too. The protection he offers extends to Soo-wi, too. He'll extend it to Jeong-hoon as well if Joonyeong asks.
"If you don't want to answer, that's okay," Lieutenant Song adds rather hastily, perhaps realizing the great level of concern that question holds. "But that won't diminish my worry. I want to help, if I can offer it."
Joonyeong blinks, looking up at the lieutenant.
I'm fine...nothing happened...don't worry...
"Wait...did someone do something to you?" he whispers at the prolonged silence, his voice noticeably darker. "If someone has, I swear—"
"I met her," Joonyeong whispers, gulping. (Eunji killed them, she killed all of them—) "Dr. Moon...she introduced me to her and...she was so awful...and I—"
"One day, a soldier came to me. He was one of the nice ones. Said, 'It wasn't your fault, was it? You couldn't help it.'"
Not Lieutenant Song, please, not him...
An inhuman cry escapes Joonyeong. He quickly pushes up, but he can't stop himself when an even bigger sob rips through his throat. In an instant, arms are tightly secured around him, holding him tight. He slumps not a second later, leaning into the chest of his protector, his cheek pressed against a military uniform. His nose brushes against Lieutenant Song's name tag.
But what if he let her out? What if he was too sympathetic?
Everything he lost...everything he has to go through...can he really take it anymore? Can he take Soo-wi's adoration? Can he take Woojin's love? Can he take it, knowing he's a danger to them both?
Why isn't he asking Lieutenant Song? Why can't he just ask him? He obviously didn't let her out. But his mind keeps pushing him, prodding him in the other direction.
Why, why, why couldn't I have turned?
Eomma wouldn't have died. Soo-wi wouldn't have become motherless. Woojin...he would've found someone better. But now, Joonyeong has to suffer, to bear the burden of his monster, and he hates it. He can't do it. He's been fighting for so long.
But I can't do it anymore.
Lieutenant Song is steadfast in holding on, even when he shouldn't, even when he might get in trouble. "Shhh..." he's whispering, his voice shaky. "It's okay, son, let it all out..."
"I can't," Joonyeong chokes. His voice isn't his...it's so pathetic, so weak—
"You can," replies Lieutenant Song firmly. "I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry I didn't realize earlier..."
Joonyeong shudders.
"I can't do this anymore. I lost...I lost everything..."
His fingers curl even tighter in the fabric of the lieutenant's uniform. The hold on him tightens.
"Don't talk like that," begins Lieutenant Song. "Please..."
Joonyeong sobs harder, finally letting everything consume him—his pain, his grief, his sorrow, his worries. He just wants to die. He can't take it, knowing that because of one stupid cowardly boy, he's slowly losing whatever's left of him. He's losing out to the intrusive thoughts, to the hard facts, and to the monster that craves the flesh of those around him.
Woojin doesn't deserve this mess, he thinks suddenly. He doesn't deserve me. I'm being too cruel. I shouldn't hold onto him, I should instead let go...
Something switches as he feels something wet fall on his head. The hold has become shaky, uneven, making a cold dread settle in his stomach. Pulling back, he falls back on the bed, and it's only then that he sees Lieutenant Song's tear-streaked face.
What?
Lieutenant Song looks chagrined as Joonyeong moves from his embrace. Quickly wiping his eyes, he holds out a hand.
Joonyeong stares at him, his bottom lip trembling. Everything hurts.
Everything burns.
Lieutenant Song scoots his chair closer, taking his hand.
"I'll stay with you as long as you need. Don't worry about me leaving," he whispers. Though Joonyeong didn't think of it, he realizes this is exactly what he wants.
Why is he being so kind?
"Please," implores Lieutenant Song. "Don't do this. You have so much to look forward to, so much to achieve."
Joonyeong lowers his head in shame, suddenly embarrassed. How could he have been so weak just now? What was he on?
Woojin deserves someone better, not someone who could kill him...
"I'm sorry," he whispers.
"No! That's not what I meant, Joonyeong ah," counters Lieutenant Song gently. He puts his hand on Joonyeong's shoulder, holding it in place. "You did nothing wrong, okay? You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."
Without warning, he then shifts onto the bed and pulls Joonyeong into a fierce embrace. Joonyeong clings on with a vice-grip, burying his nose in the lieutenant's shoulder. The tears come back at full force, relentless in their stream as Lieutenant Song holds him even tighter.
"I'll be there, okay?" he whispers in his ear, his voice feverish. He strokes Joonyeong's hair, seeming more like a parent now than a military officer. And then, Joonyeong knows he wasn't the one who let Eunji out. He sighs at the realization, deflating considerably, but still terribly worn. "Whatever you need, I promise I'll be there."
Joonyeong nods, leaning in. He lets out a long breath.
He doesn't doubt him for a second.
...
So...yeah. Consider this as a kind of interlude. They needed to meet at some point, right?
As a result, Joonyeong's mental health is even more fucked up than before.
(Me, from a dark corner: But it's for the plot! *smiles sweetly*)