Chapter 20 - A spiralling descent along seething tears.

[obsidianinks]

Hongki had never regarded himself as truly outstanding nor exceptionable. He was never really that good at sports, or was he the top scorer in the class. Heck, he wasn’t even popular during school, only existing as another nameless, callous youth that sauntered down the choked hallways of his neighbourhood school. He had never been awarded for anything commendable except for maybe receiving a flimsy scrap of gilded paper in recognition of his improving grades in his third year of high school. No, considering his childhood, Hongki had never really truly thought of himself as anything more than another human being treading drearily upon the face of this planet they called earth. But, despite all that, he wasn’t stupid. At least he had enough common sense to skirt carefully around the edges of his newfound predicament.

Hongki now found himself swallowing back a shiver that trickled chilling fingers between the raised hairs upon his back, as he fought to train his eyes along the zipping white lines that were plastered unto the slickened asphalt. His fingers twitched slightly as they gripped tightly to the wheel, a single spasming tremor that an insidious voice whispered would most certainly be picked up upon by the silent occupants seated within the back of his modest, cruise car. The acrid stench of singed cotton still permeated the cool confines of his car- a dry, deadened thing that pressed unerringly down upon the cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. Despite his nervous foreboding at the heavy, petrifying silence that pressed against his eardrums, Hongki allowed himself one last glance at the rear-view mirror.

A raging, starving beast tossed its head violently to swing maniacally from side to side, its barbed tongues of flame reaching up towards the sooty heavens to lick fervently along the sides of charred bricks, its manacled chains lying discarded and forgotten amongst crumbling ruins of billowing ashes and sprinkled shingles fallen from the hollowed rooftops. It roared in exultation, devouring the entire house with a single-minded determination that rankled against Hongki’s strained nerves. The huge ball of flames crackled and lit up the inky, midnight sky with relish, staining the clouds with brushstrokes of burnished ochre. The image seared into his memory, tucking itself acidly into his tumultuous thoughts, leaving behind a promise of its haunting return during his vulnerable nights to trail in its wake.

Hongki snapped his eyes back immediately to fixate upon the eerie glow of greenish-blue lights standing out in strikes and numbers upon the headboard, letting the thrumming purr of the car’s engine lull him into a momentary state of reverie- blank and gratefully numb. Hongki glanced over to the passenger’s side, reaching a hand absentmindedly to tuck the loose corners of a patchy, flimsy blanket underneath Taeyeon's chin. Her long lashes fluttered slightly, their tips still dewed with well-worn tears, her brows furrowing momentarily in hesitant trepidation. Hongki smoothed the flat of his palm over her sticky forehead, brushing strands of her hair aside. He felt a pang of sorrow lance through his aching heart, his eyes skimming forlornly over the fine lines etched into the corners of her trembling lids, the firm clench of her jaw dragging her lips downwards in a disheartened droop. He was almost happy that Leeteuk had died a long, torturous death. Almost.

Hongki flitted his gaze back to the rearview mirror to rest upon the outlined features of a striking man, noticing with tentative, morbid curiosity at the dried streaks of blushing ink that bathed along his arms and front. Dried blood had matted his black tunic to stick to his broad, lean chest that was bent over in a protective huddle across the sprawled body of a pale man- his youthful, adolescent features mirroring the same angles and planes that graced Taeyeon's face. Hongki did not know the man’s name, but Jaejoong obviously meant something to him judging by the constant, repetitive, soothing strokes that the man smoothed down Jaejoong's covered back. Jaejoong shifted within the blankets covering his naked body, curling his legs up in a huddle with a strained whimper to burrow deeper into the man’s firm embrace.

Hongki suppressed a shiver when he glimpsed the bloodshot irises contracting to a single crown of thorns surrounding pitch tar-his eyes were glowing. The man narrowed his eyes in concern, his brows furrowing together in a worried crease as he brushed a hand across Jaejoong's cheek, stilling the barely perceptible trembles wracking Jaejoong's thin shoulders. Hongki shifted his gaze uneasily to the other occupant, immediately transfixed by his auburn orbs of burnished copper. He vaguely recalled seeing this particular man, with his tuff of flaming, red hair and tall, lanky frame. But what caught his eye the most was the man’s features, slim and angled, with high cheekbones that overshadowed thin lips perpetually curved into a small smile, and dark, piercing eyes that tracked anything and saw everything. Sure, confident lines outlined his lean frame of muscle and sinew, arrogant strokes of a painters brush moulding his body. The man gave a curt nod as he met Hongki's gaze.

“Kit says to follow Airi and I to Japan when we leave tomorrow. It must be done in haste, with no time to say any goodbyes. The police will be sniffing around and both you and your wife cannot afford to linger in Korea,” The man abruptly announced, directing his words to a jumpy Hongki. Hongki nodded edgily- a swift bob of his head whilst he pummelled his wavering concentration back into driving. “We’ll be taking a cruise ship to Japan in the early mornings, disguising ourselves as tourists. It’ll be less suspicious. I’ve never been on one of those before so I’ll need any experience that you can get.” The man continued in a monotone, seemingly bored by the entire process of explaining to Hongki. Hongki stifled a groan of dismay. If the man, who was obviously much more accomplished at killing people than Hongki, judging by the metallic glints reflecting off sheathed knives and the matt surface of a semi-automatic handgun clinched around his waist, had never taken a simple cruise ship before, Hongki wondered how long they would be able to survive.

“You- you’ve never taken a cruise ship before? Not at all?” Hongki said disbelievingly, shooting tense glances at the calm mask that bore holes into the back of his headrest. The man simply shook his head. “No, never. Usually I just swam across the western and eastern channel to the island of Iki just off the coast of Kyushu and Fukuoka and then take a boat. But never a cruise ship direct from Korea…” The man stated offhandedly, as if it was perfectly commonplace for a person to simply swim through a vast ocean. Hongki was officially dumfounded, and not to mention entirely perturbed by the true nature of Taeyeon's younger brother’s friends. “W-what?” Hongki stuttered, his fingers resembling gripping talons that were secured unto the drivers wheel, not daring to look up at the rear-view mirror.

The man chuckled lightly. “Nah, I'm just kidding, I usually go by plane…”

Hongki let out a nervous titter, shooting his panicky gaze at the mirror to glimpse the man’s small smile widening into a feral grin. It didn’t reach his eyes. Safe to say, it did nothing to temper the maelstrom of terrorizing thoughts milling about within Hongki's head. Hongki let his dry laughter whisper away, welcoming back the smothering silence with almost grateful arms, swallowing back the terrified lump constricting around his throat.

What have I gotten myself into…?

***

Yunho listened with half a mind at the gentle spray of water pounding into his hunched shoulders, the warmth doing nothing to chase away the bunch of muscles still coiled into a tense, quivering frame of weary anger. He lifted a hand to grab the moist sponge, its crinkled pores filled with creamy foam that spread across his dewed skin, leaving behind little bubbles that clung like glistening pearls. Yunho shivered beneath the constant stream of water that trickled down his back in rivulets, an arching waterfall sloshing between his shoulder blades that flushed away the trail of bubbles to rush down his legs. The smell of blood rose with the steam curling about his body, the dirty water coloured pink with each subsequent scrubbing. Yunho threw the moist sponge abruptly into a corner with a quick flick of his wrist, bringing up strangled fingers to thread through his hair, the nail beds still stained with dried copper at the gritty edges. Yunho frowned in distaste, watching woodenly as the water finally cleared with the last vestiges of Leeteuk's haunting scream trickling away down the drain.

The showerhead sputtered to a stop, dripping a few drops of water to splatter upon the tiled floor. Yunho creaked open the glass door and stepped out, wrapping a lush, white towel around his midriff. He froze mid-step, staring at the crumpled pile of black cotton, the fine weave matted and hardened with dried blood, whispering a tendril of devouring madness to drift against Yunho's senses, enticing his throat to constrict into a familiar vice with the haunting scent tingling along his spine. But he managed to push the nagging disquiet to the recesses of his mind; the recent slake of his thirst quenching the momentary glimmer of fire within the pit of his belly. It was not without effort though- Yunho still had to come to terms with his shaky control. Picking up the bunched fabric was even harder, but he did it, with calm fingers that held the miserable clump of cotton away at a safe distance.

Yunho breathed out a shaky snort through his nose, grappling with his newfound control like a newborn babe that had just managed to stand by holding unsteadily unto its mother’s loving hand. Or in this case, Jaejoong's hand. Dressing quickly, Yunho slipped out of the bathroom, taking care not to let any steam waft out into the room. He padded past the small study and through the arched doorway, coming to a halt beside the towering, lush curtains adorning the four poster bed. Yunho skimmed his eyes over Jaejoong's seemingly peaceful sprawl amongst the blankets, resting his softened gaze upon Jaejoong's pale, chapped lips pursed into a thinned grimace, parting occasionally to murmur incoherent, distraught whispers, with his forehead crinkled into anxious creases. Yunho brought up a clean, no longer bloodied, hand to caress lightly across Jaejoong's forehead, brushing away a stray lock of hair hanging lankly over Jaejoong's trembling lids.

Yunho sighed softly, remorse shooting through him like a striking cobra. If I had been there on time, things would not have ended this way. Why, why had he been so foolish, not to have realised sooner that Jaejoong would have tried something like this? He should have been there to protect Jaejoong, but instead, he would forever carry his guilt like a heavy sack tied in a noose around his beating heart- the price of his failure. Leeteuk's death had salved some of his guilt but it was a bittersweet thing, momentary and fleeting. Yunho knew it would come back in full force, flinging him backwards in a familiar thrall of immobilising despair, leaving him gasping during the vulnerable nights. But one thing was for sure: I will protect Jaejoong, even if it means giving up my life. I have to be strong for the both of us. Jaejoong needs me now.

Yunho turned resolutely away, tightening his hold over the bundle of stained clothes, sparing Jaejoong one last glance before the door slid shut behind him with a soft, finalised click.

***

Yoochun stifled back a hiss as his bare feet touched upon the icy concrete ground, feeling it leech away the warmth from the soles of his foot, whilst the wind whispered about his waist, dragging teasingly at the corners of his flimsy, cotton shirt. The moon shone stark and bright against the inky heavens, bathing the world in a mist of silvered light, every single glimmering dewdrop upon a trembling leaf standing out sharply to his glinting eyes. They were glistening with splashes of crimson, rosette petals strewn around his darkened irises catching and drinking in each sight, every whisper of sound, and every whiff of acrid smoke. Yoochun glanced sharply towards his left, striding steadily to the sound of cracking wood and the hushed roar of a burning fire.

“What’s the use?” Yoochun commented drily, coming out of the shadows to stand at the lip of radiance, feeling the warmth from the contained fire spill forth to seep into his skin. Yunho shifted on his two feet, stepping forward to throw another wooden stick into the devouring flames, watching the cinders hiss and spit into the shimmering heat. Yoochun bowed his head slightly towards his cupped palms, a brief flare throwing the shadows off balance before they scrawled back to settle beneath his high cheekbones and refined features. A small puff later had smoke unravelling before his eyes to tatter apart upon the fingers of the wind.

Yunho sighed wearily, reaching up a hand to rub at his hollowed eyes, the night’s events hollowing his cheeks and casting burnished, copper light to fall upon his gaunt appearance. “It helps, somewhat.” Yunho said softly, letting his gaze go unfocused and distant as he stared into the roiling flames. Yoochun simply snorted, a lazy stream of silvered mist gushing past his parted lips. “Does it matter? You fed. That’s that. No use in wasting fine cotton.” Yoochun reprimanded slightly, watching the black cotton shrivel up and smoulder beneath the eager hands of fire. Yunho shrugged.

“You know, you mean a lot to Jaejoong…” Yoochun uttered solemnly, immediately meeting Yunho's startled gaze. “You complete him in a way I never could provide, and you saved him tonight in a way no one ever could.” Yoochun added on softly, albeit grudgingly. “You did good tonight.”

Yunho nodded hesitantly, lowering his head dejectedly to crouch down and trace invisible patterns on the hard ground. “Maybe,” Yunho whispered softly, so low that Yoochun almost did not catch it. “but if only I was there earlier, maybe none of this would have happened…” Yunho bit out the words, anguish contorting his features into a brief flash of misery before they smoothed out into an even mask. Yoochun stopped his arm midway, letting his arm fall back to his sides, the cigarette butt left forgotten between pursed fingers.

“You can’t change anything, Yunho. This,” Yoochun gestured in a broad sweep of his hands. “would have happened either way. Just accept it and move on. You saved Jaejoong by being there for him, as should you be doing right now. No use fretting over the past. We all live in the now.” Yoochun uttered tersely, emphasising on the word ‘now’, allowing a hint of urgency to enter his voice. Yunho remained silent, lifting his head slowly to stare unseeingly at Yoochun. I have to be strong for Jaejoong.

Abruptly he straightened up in a sinuous flow of bunched muscles, rolling his shoulders once before crooking a small smile at Yoochun. “You sound a lot like Jae you know…” Yunho commented offhandedly, brushing the soot off his hands and picking at invisible pieces of lint upon his worn, long sleeved shirt. Yoochun smirked tightly, his face undoubtedly mirroring the same tired droop of Yunho's lips. The sun was going to up in a few hours and one night of feasting did not do much for his deprived sleep.

“I get that a lot.” Yoochun chuckled lightly.

***

Yunho mulled over Yoochun's words as he strode noiselessly down the shadowy hallways, his sensitive nose picking up on the individual scents of incense curling on invisible currents in the air- rose, and jasmine. Soft candlelight slithered waveringly down from their pedestals to spill across the carpeted floors, lighting up Yunho's way back to a stout wooden door. Moonlight from the single, large window pane within their bedroom filtered beneath the crack under the door and illuminated the dirty streaks lining Yunho's worn sneakers. He pushed it hesitantly open, his eyes immediately snapping to fall familiarly upon the crinkled sheets- to meet empty, white, slightly mussed sheets that were thrown carelessly backwards in a toss.

A tad too late, the stinging stench of something burning seared his nose, trailing from the sudden breeze that ruffled through the open window and tugged lightly against dishevelled locks. Jaejoong balanced precariously upon the rusted windowsill, his knees almost touching the edges as he hung half his upper body out into empty space, a single arm outstretched to feather against the winds caress. Yunho froze at the sight that greeted him, panic coursing a sudden arc of electricity to jar against his thudding heart. “Jae!” Yunho cried out, flinging himself swiftly to wrap his arms securely around the man’s slim waist and harshly tug the both of them to fall in a messy heap of entangled limbs.

“Yunho?” Jaejoong whispered softly, shifting slightly within Yunho's encasing arms to peer wearily at Yunho's livid face within inches of his own. “What the hell did you think you were you doing, Jaejoong!?” Yunho shouted in a fluster, feeling Jaejoong over for any possible damage he could have done to himself. Jaejoong flinched abruptly, turning his face away as fear gripped him in its paralysing grip, a bolt of dread seeping through his veins. Yunho immediately pulled his hand away, concern etched into his features, his rapid apology coming out in a stutter. Jaejoong shook his head numbly, shushing away Yunho's worried stutters with a swish of his open palm, lifting his bowed head to fixate hollowed orbs of mulled wine upon Yunho's stilled mask. “What were you doing, Jae?” Yunho repeated softly, making no move to come any closer to the trembling man. Jaejoong swallowed back his hurt at Yunho's reluctance to even touch him, leaving a bitter rind to flavour his taste buds. Maybe he thinks I'm dirty. Maybe he doesn’t even want to be near me after what happened.

Jaejoong snorted cynically. “What did you think I was doing?” Jaejoong shot the question back, disentangling himself abruptly from Yunho's encircling arms and rolling back upon his haunches. Yunho simply stared in shock. “I was burning my sister’s farewell letter. Or else the police would find out her hiding place when they search our rooms, sooner or later. What did YOU TH-!” Jaejoong flicked his head sharply away in a jerking twist, breathing through his nose as he grappled with the sudden, unfurling serpent of anger roiling within the pit of his belly. His lashes brushed lightly against his angled cheekbones as he closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, before turning back to stare at Yunho's frozen frame. Jaejoong felt like a part of him had died, a missing chunk of his being torn callously away, leaving him chewed and fractured into the putrid corpse of an incomplete puzzle.

“I was raped Yunho,” Jaejoong said monotonously, his words ringing clear and horridly steady. His orbs were dull and his lips parted to roll out a litany of words with dispassionate ease. “I feel soiled and that my soul has been ripped away. But I know that nobody was hurt throughout this whole thing and I'm not about to end my life for my own selfish reasons just to throw all my efforts to keep them safe and happy away, Yunho. I'm not going to do that.” Jaejoong spat the last words out with finality, straightening up and turning resolutely away to face the gaping chasm of space that hovered beyond the painted sill. Yunho lay upon the cold, hard ground, stunned into silence that quickly melded into an eerie stiffness. Jaejoong brought his arms to cross over his midriff, his folded arms clasped tightly to his coiled, trembling body, fighting to hold his shaken tears in with each painful scrape of his teeth upon his bottom lip.

“Yes, you were raped Jaejoong,” Yunho stated evenly, wincing inwardly at the foulness of the word, rolling the coarse syllable around his mouth to engrave its sour bile into his tongue. Jaejoong's eyes flew open to bore his stricken gaze at the opposing wall of weathered bricks, the adjacent building’s cheap, red, industrial bricks left porous and pock-marked with each passing shower of rain. “But at what cost to yourself? Can’t you put aside other people for once, and just think of yourself!?” Yunho's voice grew louder as he continued on, his cresting fury and frustration riding the surge with an almost gleeful vengeance, urging Yunho's composure to leap off into an abyss of oblivion. Yunho leapt up to turn Jaejoong around, grabbing him tightly by the shoulders. Jaejoong was frozen, too shocked to move, held immobilised by Yunho's tormented orbs of whirling whisky, the worry and pain evident within his contracted irises as they glossed over with a fine sheen of tears.

Yunho roared in frustration. “God, Jae! Don’t give a fuck about others for once, and just think of yourself. Be selfish for once and take whatever the hell you want! You’ve got it all wrong, Jaejoong. You want us to be happy? We can’t be happy if we see you suffering for our sakes! If you’re happy, then we’ll be happy. It’s no use beating yourself up just for us! Heck, we’re not even worth it. What matters the most is you, Jaejoong. You. And we want you to be happy. So, stop thinking about others for once, and just be happy…” Yunho trailed off wearily, breathing out a tremulous sigh as he lowered his head to press his forehead against Jaejoong's rigid frame. “We don’t want to see you hurt, Jae, it hurts us as well. But, we will feel like dying inside if we see you hiding it behind your false smiles and laughs.” Yunho murmured gently, feeling utterly drained and exhausted, dragging his arms around Jaejoong's waist to draw the slighter man closer in a tightened embrace.

Jaejoong breathed shallowly through his nose, his thudding heart sounding a booming staccato that railed against his bony chest. Jaejoong blinked his eyes once, breath, blink, breath. Like an insidious parasite that burrowed deep within the recesses of his heart, so did the roots of his sorrow unfurl and bloom behind a stout dam, leeching his strength with each pounding clench of his heart that flailed and strained to contain his emotions. But alas, within the cocoon of warmth and comfort, time slowed to a steady trickle, eventually halting entirely with each deepened breath. A rotating, shining diamond, its multifaceted surface glinting and reflecting a myriad of colours, each brief flash shearing off a multitude of futures and choices. Happiness? Am I really entitled to it? Can I? Will I? Jaejoong contemplated it all within those few seconds, marvelling at the range of choices streaming through his hazed consciousness. And then he chose one option, one single action.

Should I take it?

Jaejoong leaned into Yunho's embrace, burrowing his face to hide in the crook of Yunho's nape as he brought his hand up to grip tightly around the tall man’s broad shoulders. The first tears that fell were blissfully silent- solemn, parading salty dewdrops that marched down his drawn cheeks. Then the sobs started bubbling up his throat in a spiralling descent into despair, till his throat felt raw and brutally scraped. He shed enough tears for the both of them that night, spreading a steady damp patch on Yunho's shoulder that darkened the rough weave, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably as if with an ague with each wracking hiccup and fresh wave of tears. Jaejoong had been confident that the onslaught of tears would wither away with time along with softly murmured words, accompanied by the soothing circles being rubbed into his back. But the gods must have played a dirty trick that night, letting each crescendo of tears hit him with more force and impact every time, leaving him gasping and choking on his sobs, carving tracks of silvered, salty, hot tears down his cheeks. Jaejoong distantly sensed Yunho's mounting panic with each keening wail, but he couldn’t stop.

He finally allowed himself to be pulled along to the soft bed, to huddle up in a small ball by Yunho's side and be rocked into a lull, all the while being spoken to in hushed, incoherent murmurs. He scoffed inwardly at the irony. A few nights ago, he had comforted Yunho whilst he woke up in the night to haunting nightmares. And now, the tables had reversed. The emotionless prince of Kit's establishment fallen to weeping sobs, like a needy mess. And yet, Jaejoong didn’t really feel the need to pull away. With Yunho here, does it really matter?