Blue. Green. Yellow.
Those three specific colours blurred before her like a pixelated picture. It got clearer; slowly, gently. Every speck of it defining itself, competing to be perfect. The blue had wisps of white in it. A pale blue sky with soft chunks of cottony clouds. The greens were long and slender. A far spread of pastural carpet. The yellow drizzled upon the green. A bold sprinkle of tiny yellow flowers nestled cosily into the picture of a meadow. It was definitely a meadow.
A gentle breeze washed over the field, coaxing the flowers into a dancing ripple. The place had a pleasant scent, one you couldn't quite put a finger on. It soothed every nerve in your body and forced you to stop thinking. It urged you to relax and you just couldn't deny it. Soothing yet strong willed. The sky reflected a far away sun, showering you with just the right amount of warmth. Everything fit like a puzzle as if they were an integral whole. Without one, it would all seem largely imbalanced. They needed each other to present this mystical reality of perfection.
The tip of her fingers grazed along the mat of green. Kira gulped audibly. She couldn't believe just how beautiful it was that she was afraid her mere touch would shatter it to million pieces. A wave of breeze passed again and she held her breath to listen to it. It tingled her skin and coyly refreshed the blissful scent. Loose strands of her hair tickled her shoulder blades, teasing her to look to the sides. On either side, the meadows stretched as far as she could see. Not even a single tree in sight. Just the blue, green and yellow. She looked down, half expecting to see herself draped in some delicate white frock. It wasn't so. She wore a chiffon white shirt, paired with polyester grey suit and pants. One of her formal attire for work. The white seemed dirty and she suspected smears of blood on them.
Suddenly, she felt too out of place. She felt as if she was murdering the perfect aesthetic of the meadow just by existing. She felt as though she deserved not to breathe the unpolluted air. In agony, she looked up, worried that the whole meadow would dissolve right in front of her eyes, leaving only a monotonous grey. Instead, she found herself looking at someone else. She was sure they hadn't been there before. The person sighed softly. Unlike her own, it wasn't of despair but of satisfaction. It was a man; one closely familiar to her. His jet-black locks fell lazily over his forehead, teasing to touch the tip of his eyelashes. His cheek bones protruded elegantly like a well-defined sculpture. His skin, she could tell, was soft and tender. A delicate white shirt hung loosely around his frame and his thin white pants extended all the way to the bottom of his toes. Unlike her, he blended perfectly into the colours. Suddenly, he felt like a missing piece she never even knew was missing.
Jungkook stared blissfully at the shapes of clouds, ignorant of her filthy presence. She wanted to call him out, let him know that she was right there. But she did not want to disturb the serenity of the image. A breath escaped her lips, one that signalled the brim of artistic ecstasy. He must have heard her, for he looked right at her. She expected him to be mad at her but instead, he let out a playful smile. Kira found herself smiling back at him despite her misfit existence. She opened her mouth to say something but he put his finger to his lips, shaking his head lightly to deny it. He moved his fingers and touched behind his ears, motioning her to listen. She obliged. She listened as carefully as she could but heard nothing; not even the gentle sway of the flowers. A soft giggle erupted out his pink lips, shattering the silence. The clear ring of his melodic voice tinkled in her ears and she gaped at him. His giggle echoed, dissipating along the stretch of the meadow but the open-mouthed smile remained etched on his face. It joined the harmony of colours.
Blue. Green. Yellow. And Jungkook.
***
Kira groaned, her voice reverberating within her seemingly empty body. Her eyelashes were clammy with sweat and she struggled to pry them open. A part of her didn't want them to open. She was sick of what she saw. The numbing pain on her wrists confirmed that she was still there, waiting to see and feel it all again. Fresh cuts and throbs proved a testimony to their barbaric artwork. Thirty hours or maybe more since her last attempt at escape. The goldish yellow lights seemed to pierce her eyes harder each time she opened them. This time, it adjusted itself onto a new figure.
Jungkook.
Her already haywire thought process malfunctioned into a chaotic frenzy. She was unable to distinguish between reality and hallucinations. With the light shadowing some of his features, she was unsure of the realness of his presence. For a split second, she was back again at the serenity of the meadow. His sculpted smiling face in white tunics proved alarmingly different from the version in front of her. He wasn't smiling; rather, it was hard to decipher his emotion altogether. His tousled black hair matched his equally black t-shirt, leather jacket and a pair of jeans.
Unlike the meadow, Kira had no intention of keeping quiet. She put her efforts into getting him to notice her as she croaked his name out. He didn't seem to hear her at first. She spoke up again. This time, she could see the subtle shift in his demeanour. Why was he standing there like that? Why was he just staring at her? Why wasn't he helping her?
Hours ago, Kira had nearly walked out victorious but that single moment of hope had been an illusion. The next thing she remembered was waking up in one of the larger rooms she had passed by. They had learned their lessons. Her wrists were now tied taunt with ropes onto makeshift poles on either side. She kneeled while her ankles were tightly bound together. There was an absence of a gag but it was understood that it went useless on her. For she gulped down even the harshest of pain, determined not to give them the joy of watching her scream. It turned out that her captivator was Lee Youngjin; M himself.
He wanted her to be the catalyst that forced Taehyung into an Ultimatum: the choice of a second life. He had to turn over his company, give up the entirety of his properties and essentially flee the country - never to be seen again. Kira had pointed out that they'd broken up months ago, rendering her a useless leverage. Much like Kira, M was convinced that it was all part of a bigger game; a meek attempt at deceiving him. But unlike Kira, his optimism on the matter was unparalleled. He'd talked to her, pursuing to mentally break her. The manipulating conversationalist in him shone out. What she considered to be an impenetrable mind of hers slowly started to diminish in the absence of a sound physical health. She had started to consider her blackouts a boon, a means of escape from what she heard, saw and felt.
But now as Jungkook stood patiently in front of her, she had enough flicker of a hope to be at the least, curious. Kira hadn't seen him in months and she had wondered why he, of all people, had appeared in her 'dream'. Surely, seeing a friend bound up ought to evoke some sympathy. Of all the times she'd known him, she'd never considered the option of him hurting her. At least not the Jungkook that played cheerfully with her. But this Jungkook was different. A ghost of someone she thought she knew. She knew he'd seen her; she knew that he understood her desperation and yet, she couldn't fathom the coldness in his eyes.
"Do you like your gift?" she heard M speak.
Jungkook's gaze shifted to the voice that emerged behind her. He took a step forward, accepting the light to accentuate his features. He tilted his head and furrowed his brows in doubt. "I thought you promised him you wouldn't hurt her if he arrived."
"And yet, I don't see him anywhere." The voice behind her replied. "I'm getting impatient of waiting. Maybe this would send him a reminder."
"I'm surprised he hasn't showed up. I guess that means she's mine." Jungkook drawled.
"Do me a favour and finish her off after you're done."
It sent chills down Kira's spine. No, she was not afraid of death. But the mere thought of Jungkook sent her spiralling into a chaos of confusion. It might have been the lack of consciousness but she couldn't understand why he'd want to hurt her. She could comprehend what M would hold against her but Jungkook? In most cases, she knew of herself to be a good judge of character and never once had she sensed him brewing malice over her.
He walked closer and knelt before her; towering her drooping self. His left hand reached out and he grasped her shoulder. She winced, solidifying the existence of their mark over her. Her already throbbing pain throbbed harder but she defiantly stared into his eyes. His grasp around her tightened and a small whimper treacherously escaped her lips. He pressed his right index finger upon his lips and deepened his grip. The gesture struck her like a lightning, flickering back and forth between the image of him under the dim yellow lights and the one of him in a meadow. It shifted from one another like the flipping of a page; the pain inviting black spots onto her vision. She traced over his visage until her eyes landed on his dark ones. They lingered delicately one last time before she passed out from exhaustion.
***
Kira was most definitely sure she wasn't alive. Afterlife didn't seem much different from reality. She saw everything in fragments. Most of it were mere glimmer of lights. She vaguely remembered a dark congested place. The place moved. A car? The windows were rolled up. She found it difficult to breathe. At least she was free of the ropes.
She had the brief clear vision of a pair of eyes. It wasn't Jungkook's. No. This one was different. Two varieties of eyelids on a single ethereal face. One Mono-lid. One double eyelid. They reflected a collage of colours. A sprinkle of them on a dark canvas. They were inches apart from her own eyes. The lips below must have moved. But she was captivated solely by the eyes.
"Shhh. Everything's alright. You're with me. No one can hurt you now." She wondered if the voice was lying for her sake. But this seemed far from reality. Maybe afterlife wasn't so similar?
White lights. White walls. White clothes. This prompted her to think that she was shifting onto another plane. But where? What even was hell or heaven? Did it exist?
Why did everything hurt? Her body ached. Her heart ached. Even the voice that spoke before had ached with sadness. Was this it? Was death the beginning of a journey where nothing made sense anymore? What happens next?
***
It took everything in Taehyung to not breakdown, collapse and shatter into nothingness. He sat by the edge of his bed, staring at a sleeping Kira. She was bandaged on various parts and the occasional red splotches of bruises taunted him. He wanted to avert his eyes and yet he wanted to drink her in. This might even be the last time he saw her. He barely had a few hours left. He wanted her etched in his mind before he left. It broke him to realize that after months of not seeing each other, this was the state he had to see her in. And to think that he was responsible for it? He had tried to avoid this. But it turns out, one way or the other, he was bound to hurt her. Only, his actions had doubled the pain she had to undergo.
He silently got up and picked up the glass of sugar solution. The hospital had asked him to make sure that she took it every one hour. He scooped up a spoonful and took a deep breath in. With trembling hands, he gently parted her parched lips and seeped a few drops into her mouth. Unlike the last time, he felt her shift in her position. He kept the glass away and observed her in anticipation. Her eyes fluttered open and closed again. She did this a few more times before groaning. She struggled to get up; and with still trembling hands, he manged to prop her up against a pillow supported by the headboard. She looked around, trying to comprehend her surroundings. It took her a while to notice him and as soon as her eyes landed on his, he looked away.
Taehyung picked up a glass of water and handed it to her. He then picked up a neatly folded cloth by the table and dampened it with water. He wrung out the excess water and sat beyond her stretched legs. He delicately dabbed her skin, daring not to meet her eyes. He heard her gulp down the glass of water eagerly. He looked up in hopes of taking her glass to refill them but he caught her staring right at him. He removed the glass from her hand and filled it with water. All the while, he could feel her eyes intensely piercing him. He sat down again, dabbing away on her bruises; perhaps hoping that she'd think of him as a mere illusion. She drank her glass of water, but this time, she gulped them slowly. He wasn't sure if she still watched him but he continued to press the wet clothe onto her bruises. He wasn't even sure if it helped but he did it anyway.
"You won't even look at me, huh?"
Taehyung's heart beat faster. Her croaking voice reverberated down her body, even to the part where he touched her. He had to let her know that he wanted to but that he just couldn't. Like a coward, he kept his eyes trained on the ground. He heard her scoff sarcastically.
"Right. Of course." She said, mostly to herself. She retracted her legs and hissed in pain. Instinctively, he looked up. She looked at him, her eyes too tired to search deep. He held onto the cloth, not knowing what to do. He should probably speak but he wasn't sure what to say.
Kira tilted her head to the left and sighed. "I am a little confused. Can you help me out?"
His eyes wandered; hovering vaguely around the board and over the wisps of her hair that stuck out stubbornly. He nodded a yes.
"Good." She paused for a moment, as if to slowly structure the sentences in her head. "These past eight months. Was it all an act?"
He looked down and nodded again.
"Why?"
'Exactly, Taehyung. Why?' He asked himself. It had all made sense to him in the beginning. To an extent it still made sense. But now, as he watched her, he felt hollow. The sole purpose of him doing that was to protect her; keep her away from M. In the end, he failed nevertheless. So, why did he even bother in the first place? What was the point? He was naïve enough to hope that M would buy it but who was he trying to fool? Afterall, Mr. Lee knew him like an open book. Taehyung knew he was trying to ease his own guilt; knowing that he had at least tried. But at what cost? The bare few moments where he'd looked into her eyes had served as a testimony to his guilt. They were, in a sense, incomplete. It wasn't just the physical fatigue; it reflected something deeper. The rim of grit had gone missing, leaving it vulnerable to those who truly knew her. For a fleeting second, he'd been hit with a realization that he'd done the exact opposite of what he had intended to do.
He must have stayed silent, getting lost in his own train of thoughts for he heard his own name ring in his years.
"Taehyung. I- I need to know. Look, I'm not asking for much. Just... just talk to me. I've tried hard not to think about this too much. I've given you space, I-I don't know what more to do. I just want to get over with this feeling of being uncertain. I-"
"Minjee." He heard himself speak. She stopped mid-way, assuring that he had her attention. "You've done way more than I could ask for. You've been patient and you deserve to know what's happening." He took a deep breath and spoke calmly. He began with how he'd moved to Seoul, how he met M and the delicacy of their trade and trade circles. He explained how he'd initially began, ambitious enough to devour his whole life for it. But at one point, he'd been struck with the epiphany that this wasn't him. This wasn't why he'd taken up his dad's company. This wasn't the Taehyung he'd hoped to be despite seeming so at first. Then, he'd met her which had only solidified his thoughts. It soon dawned on him that there was no way he'd get out of it peacefully. He'd have to play it the hard way. His idea was to dismantle the hierarchy of buyers, layer by layer. Without the buyers, the trade would disintegrate; leaving M alone. The secretive nature of the trade proved to be of use here, for not many new of what happened down there.
With Kira safe, hidden under the shadows of a pretence, he'd hoped to achieve this smoothly. To an extent, it had worked out except for the minor flaw that he'd been stubborn enough to overlook. Yes, it was all an act. He'd done it to protect her. Yes, he knew that she wouldn't buy it but this was the only way to keep her out of it.
She reached out and meekly slapped his arm. "Haven't you watched enough movies to know that it never works? You could have talked to me. I could have helped you."
He let out a low chuckle. He abandoned the wet cloth to hold her hand. The mere act heated up his chest; he realized how much he'd missed her touch. "I saw you helping."
Kira furrowed her brows in confusion.
"I saw Cherry there. I knew what you were doing. If I hadn't brought out the whole drama, I knew that your stubborn self wouldn't sit still and listen to me. I had to send a clear signal to keep you away." He said a low voice.
He looked up to find her silent, trying hard not to meet his eyes. He chuckled again. With shaking hands, he slowly brought her palms to his lips. He kissed it gently and let her delicate skin linger for a moment. He kissed her hand again, afraid that this would be his last source of bliss. Her hand seemed to shiver and he mistook it for his own. Confused, he looked up only to see her curled up. She had her head buried into the free hand which rested upon her knees. Her whole body trembled and he was afraid he'd somehow hurt her with the fragile touch of his lips.
It took him several moments to register that she was crying. She sobbed silently, as though she was careful not to spill out too much emotions but her unsteady breath and quivering body betrayed her. To his horror, he realized that through the entirety of their relationship, he'd never once seen her cry. As much as he wanted her to let it at all out, it felt like multiple icy knifes stabbing and twisting inside him all at once. He slowly scooted closer to her and held her. She abandoned her arms to sob into his shirt and he hugged her close.
"I was so scared." She spoke in a tiny voice. "I hate being afraid but I was so scared in there." A series of sniffles interrupted her, forcing her to pause and breathe. "I was so scared." She repeated again. Her whole body shook and her voice was barely audible but more than that, the raw vulnerability in her voice caught him off guard. She spoke affirmatively of her fear and he could only assume how hard it must have been for her. As someone who hated expressing herself emotionally to others; he assumed that it must have pushed her over the edge for her to breakdown in front of him. With her pressed next to him, he felt his own eyes brim with tears.
"Shhh..." He whispered. "I'm right here. No one can hurt you now." He assured despite his own wavering voice. "Everything's going to be alright." He told her but it seemed more like reassurance to himself. "Everything's going to be alright." He whispered again and held her with all his might.
***
Taehyung lay wide awake with her sleeping tight in his arms. He carefully detached himself from her and pulled the blanket over her frame. He stood for a while, not wanting to leave. If things didn't go smoothly, this might as well be his final farewell. With a heavy heart, he kissed her forehead.
Unaware of his tender imprint, Kira was back on the idyllic meadow. Everything else crumbled, floating in the heavenly breeze as they washed over the flowers.