Kihyun's at it again. Sehyuk stands outside the washroom door, breathing slowly as he hears hurling sounds from inside.
Sehyuk remembers the horror of the first day he found the older with fingers in his mouth, trying his hardest to throw up. Since then, almost every night, he stood outside the washroom when Kihyun thought he had already slept.
Sehyuk doesn't have the guts to confront Kihyun about the matter. How is he supposed to do that when he doesn't understand what's happening? Is it an eating disorder? Would he even talk to Sehyuk about what's going on? At first, he thought Kihyun was vomiting due to poor ingestion.
It seems as if life doesn't want to give him a break today. It's one thing after the other. Sehyuk still hasn't recovered from how Jaemin betrayed his trust in him. The sound of flushing alerts Sehyuk and once again he sprints away from the scene on autopilot, escaping to the comfort of his bedroom.
He taps his head repeatedly on the closed door, the sight of his bare feet scaring him. He doesn't know how long he's going to be able to stand and walk normally. "Don't think, don't think," Sehyuk whispers to himself, shutting his eyes and gulping audibly. He needs a distraction, overthinking may lead to him losing his legs faster than he's supposed to. After all, his condition was psychological.
So, he opens the door, finding Kihyun in the living room, a towel around his neck, droplets of water still clinging to his raven hair. He's wearing Sehyuk's borrowed white graphic t-shirt and joggers, two sizes big for his body.
The boy coughs, fingers carding through his damp hair. "You're back..." He lets his hands hang by his sides. "Did...did you hear anything...from the washroom?"
Sehyuk sighs, walking closer to Kihyun and taking a seat on the couch, patting the space next to him. "I...I have been hearing it since the day you started living here." He confesses, releasing a cold breath.
"Oh."
"I didn't say anything because I had no idea how to approach it. I stood outside the bathroom door every time, but didn't have the gall to go in and help you."
Kihyun curls, making himself smaller. "I was sure to do it when you slept. Didn't know I was making you uncomfortable. Sorry."
The blond boy shakes his head. "I'm a light sleeper. And it's not about being uncomfortable, more of..." he licks his lips. "...are you alright?"
"Honestly speaking," Kihyun sighs, slumping into the backrest of the couch. "I'm far from being alright. These past weeks have been stressful, I felt suffocated, hard to breathe. I'm here doing nothing at all to render my mistakes, hiding away from reality. So, the only way I could feel better, although, it only lasted for a few moments, was by emptying my stomach till it hurt. The freedom is short-lived but it's welcome."
When Sehyuk gives him no response, the older boy continues.
"People stress eat but my brain conceptualizes that the heaviness I feel would leave with the vomit that flushes in the drain. You don't have to worry about it, I don't usually throw up, only when things are not under my control."
"And how often does that happen?"
He's answered with nothing but a tight smile.
"W-what about today? At the subway station."
Kihyun remains mum, picking up the nonexistent dust on his joggers. "I think that's enough therapy session for today." He says after a moment, getting up, only to be pulled back into his place once again.
"No, I need to know how you could decide in a flicker of a moment to just throw your life away like that."
"It wasn't in the heat of the moment, okay!" Kihyun yells, shoving Sehyuk's hand away. "It was a calculated risk."
"A what? Enlighten me, please! I'd like to know how a bochchan's mind works."
"Stop butting into my business, Min. I'm not answerable to you." The older crosses his arms and juts out his lips like a petulant child.
Sehyuk has noticed this particular trait in Kihyun. His stubbornness kicks in when he's not getting his way, making a face quite similar to a lost puppy, with shiny eyes and drooped lips. But he's not going to fall for it right now. He needs to stay firm. Sehyuk's view of the boy has taken a drastic change in these weeks. He had thought of him as an irredeemable piece of trash that stepped on others because of his wealthy background. But all he sees now is a scared, hurt boy in self-destructive mode.
"I...I have been reading about your condition," Kihyun starts, wringing his hands together anxiously. "Maybe not fully but it's partially my fault you were in the wheelchair. I felt like I needed to do something to compensate for it. So, after that call from my mom, I had been feeling crappy." He tilts his neck upwards and stares at the white ceiling. "I took the risk of you saving me on instinct. And look where we are, you're finally walking."
"If your genius plan, which was very stupid by the way, didn't work, you could've died!" Sehyuk punches the handrest of the couch in frustration.
"We all are going to die anyway. Death is probably the only thing ever that's fair at all times. It comes for us all, young or old, man or woman, rich or poor. If I had died, then..." Kihyun shrugs.
The nonchalance in his voice sounds wrong, so damn wrong that it makes Sehyuk angry. It's beyond him how someone could talk about dying as if it is the easiest thing in the world to process. Once dead, there's no coming back from it.
"Death is inevitable, you're right. But there's a difference between you running towards death and death coming to find you." Sehyuk grits his teeth, the tip of his tongue caressing his cavern. "So don't you dare throw your life away like that!" His eyes are sharp, voice commanding.
"And why should I do that?"
"Because you're living in my house and the rent for one day is you breathing for one year. So that makes about at least fourteen years of living."
Kihyun laughs, slapping his palm over his thigh. "You're ridiculous! How can you even spill absurdity with a straight face." He's cackling, tears collecting at the corner of his eyes.
"I'm serious!" The younger boy unstraps the watch the other had given him earlier and drops it in his lap. "And if you don't want me to hold a grudge against you for bullying me all these months, no matter how crappy your life is, keep moving."
"So, am I allowed to freeload in here until I'm breathing?"
"Sure."
"Alright, then get me a bed at least."
"Now, you're pushing it."
"And..." Kihyun gets up from the couch. "Don't worry, I'm not suicidal."
Sehyuk doesn't believe a word he claims.
Perhaps not now, but in the far future, the two will remember today, a moment that marked a shift in their relationship. A day where they saved each other.
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Two weeks and he's finally here. Kihyun takes in a deep breath before he pushes the doors open to his house, finding his mother in the hallway with a maid, giving her some sort of instructions. It's been two weeks but Kihyun hasn't missed the place in the slightest, rather, he wants to already go back to Sehyuk's place.
But how long is he going to avoid his reality?
When Kihyun clears his throat, his mother turns to the sound, gasping and jogging towards him. She's adorned in a diamond necklace and a Selfridges Casette cowl-neck silk midi dress. A look at her and one wouldn't be able to say she's been worried for her husband.
"Kihyun!" The woman beams, "You're finally here." She cups his face with her hands. "Have you not been eating well? Look at you, you're all skin and bones."
His mother's hands are warm, but the feeling doesn't reach his heart. So, Kihyun moves his face away, afraid he may be yearning for the same warmth the next time.
"Eomma, I'm here because you called me. I have some work later."
The woman nods, giving a small smile. "Let's go and see your abeoji, maybe then he will wake up once he hears you're here."
'I hope not. Does she really not know it was me?' There's no hidden expression Kihyun can gouge out of his mother. One look at his father and he's going to leave, but what happens when he wakes up? He has to pay for his actions but he needs to find a way out of it. Should he come clean to his mother and ask for her help? He's not sure if it will bode well either.
They walk upstairs, to the master bedroom situated in the middle of two other bedrooms, belonging to Kihyun and Minwoo.
As they enter the room, Kihyun rubs his clammy hands together, his heart rate picking up speed with each step he takes. The inside is lavishly designed, with imported furniture from Italy. A double bed in the middle of the room, with a large dresser opposite to it and a walk-in closet just next to it.
Kang Wooshik lies on the bed, an IV drip connected to his hand and a bandage wrapped around his head. Kihyun's heart pounds in his chest like a caged animal. He spots his father's personal bodyguard stationed near the door, squinting at his presence.
"He's been here since the news of your abeoji spread." Kang Hyesuk shivers, running her fingers over her forearms. "It's been so creepy to sleep in here at night with him present in the room."
"Why didn't you ask him to leave if you were uncomfortable?"
"He claims that your father ordered him to stay by his side 24/7 if anything happens to him."
"And you let a stranger stay just because he said so?" Kihyun grits his teeth, fisting his hands. "That's not right."
Hyesun presses her lips together, breaking into a smile but her lips quiver. "I don't go against your father's orders, you know that. It's alright."
"Eomma..." Kihyun trails his eyes on the unconscious man tucked under a white blanket. His mother is living in a prison without bars, they all are, a cracked glass castle that has no future other than shattering into smithereens, leaving behind nothing but wounds and scars.
"I have a board meeting in an hour," his mother informs, picking up the handbag on the dresser. "Just stay with him for a few minutes and then leave." She caresses his cheek one last time before exiting the bedroom.
Kihyun turns to the bulky man standing near the door, eyeing him with a snarl. "Stay outside the room in the night from now on." He's a typical figure for a bodyguard. Dressed in a black suit, above six feet tall, wired muscles and an intimidating buzz cut.
"I'm sorry, but that goes against the instructions I—."
"I do not for a second care what your order was!" The boy snaps, "You're violating my mother's privacy. Kang Wooshik is lying on the bed—" Kihyun's heart lurches to his throat as cold fingers grab his wrist.
"Welcome home, son." The gruff voice mocks and Kihyun feels the life in him light up like a candle wick, not long before it burns out. "It has been such a hassle pretending to be lying here like a dead man, waiting for you to come out of hiding for days now."
The rustling of sheets behind him compels Kihyun to turn to take a look at his father. His legs give out at the rage flames in the older man's eyes and Kihyun falls to the floor. He sits on his knees and slaps his hands together, rubbing them furiously as he utters repeatedly. "A-abeoji...ple—please forgive me. I-I didn't mean...please..." His eyes are screwed shut, tears already making their way to coat his eyes. "I-I will do...I'm so-sorry, abeoji."
Click.
He hears the sound of the door locking behind him and Kihyun chokes. There's no way he's getting out of it now.
It's his doomsday.
"A-abeoji...I beg of you!" The boy has his head touching the carpeted floor, palms still together in a plea.
"Look up," is all he hears as a reply. "Don't let me repeat it twice."
Kihyun sucks in a lungful breath, raising from his bowed position.
"Slap yourself." The man folds his arms over his chest.
Shaky fingers come up to his face and the son does as he's told. Skin against skin.
"You call that a slap? Hit harder!"
Kihyun closes his eyes, fingers striking with more force.
"Again."
Slap!
"Do it like a man!"
Slap!
Slap!
With all the strength he can muster, Kihyun slaps himself, again and again. The sound monopolizes the room. He's breathing heavily, fingers trembling and cheek turning a crimson color, stinging and burning. He feels wetness on his cheeks and Kihyun doesn't know when tears escaped his eyes.
His back hurts sitting upright and the slaps make his head spins. When he's out of breath, Kihyun stops for a moment, his red hand falling onto his thigh.
"I never asked you to stop," Wooshik declares, pushing himself to support himself against the headboard. "If you want my mercy, do not resist." He snaps his fingers and the next second, Kihyun is pulled up by the back of his collar. An unwarranted punch pummels his other cheek, the boy flying and crashing into the nightstand, shattering a ceramic vase in the process.
His father's bodyguard towers over him, mauling him like a rag doll, kicking his stomach, and picking him up once more. The slap that comes next is harder than he's ever experienced, enough to rattle his brain.
The tears staining Kihyun's cheeks are now incessant, flowing without a care in the world. Black spots blur his vision and his head is pounding, he doesn't know how long he can survive this. He's bleeding by now but his senses are too numb to pinpoint where he is bleeding from. His lips? Or forehead? He doesn't know.
When the bodyguard steps on his back with his boot after being thrown on his stomach, Kihyun's gaze meets Wooshik's, and his teeth chatter at the stoic face he has on. How cruel can a father get? How much pain does he have to go thru for him to be satisfied?
The damage to his body is nothing compared to the agony Kihyun is carrying in his heart. Years of mental neglect and domestic violence have shredded his mind and body. If he dies here, at least it will all stop. He may be able to finally breathe.
And if he's lucky enough, his death would cause a buzz and finally have his father's deeds come to light. His mother and brother could continue their lives in peace then. He's a necessary sacrifice.
By the time the bodyguard has his fingers wrapped around his neck, there's banging sounds, the boy doesn't know if it's the pounding of his head or from outside. It's hard to make sense of anything when he's on the brink of letting everything go.
"Don't worry, I'm not suicidal." The lie he confidently told Sehyuk just yesterday, tastes metallic on his tongue.
With one last gasp of stuttered breath, Kihyun's world turns into nothingness and all there is, is an embrace of a silent void, warm and peaceful.
It's finally over.