Fanfiction: In Another World

[ikui]

Title: In Another World (Part 3/3)
Genre: Drama/AU
Rating: R
Pairing: Jongyu and Ontae
Summary: They were too similar, and they were too different. He was stuck between two choices even though the answer should have been obvious.
A/N: 5244 words, mature language, violence, death(s).

Previous: Part 1 Part 2



Hours had passed and Jinki had done little, cleaning up the room followed by moping in a corner with his head pressed to his knees. It was as if after that terrifying event, the world had gone silent, an unnerving situation for Jinki to say the least. All he could do was wait, jumping in anticipation at every little sound, hoping that Jonghyun would come back or that Key would magically appear like he always did, opening the door.

So when he heard that familiar creak of the iron door, Jinki jumped up, except he did not meet the people he was expecting. It was one of them, one of the men with short graying beards, looking aged and tired, the usual grand red and black clothing dawned now frayed. Jinki bowed immediately, thoughts running rampant through his mind. Usually all three of the heads would come and meet with him, giving him books or new tools to work with, but this time there was only one of them, a stern expression between wrinkled skin. Jinki held his breath, understanding the implications.

Either the other two were busy handling whatever had happened outside, or they were dead.

“Raise your head Lee Jinki.”

The young man flinched and did as he was told. Although the old man looked disheveled, he still had the deep authoritative voice that made Jinki numb with worry. Remaining in that state of fear, Jinki stumbled forward, looking completely ungraceful as he reached out his hands, receiving a tiny object from the higher authority. Jinki looked at the charred tiny metal spherical object in his hands curiously and back to the older man.

“You must rebuild this item,” explained the deep unwavering voice, although tinged with what Jinki thought was exhaustion, “The earth quaking, surely you felt it today. This object is the origin of that unforeseen event. The Juls across the divide, they have created massacre. Our people…” A thick swallow. “Their numbers are few.”

Jinki’s black eyes widened, his chest tightening with each breath. Is this what Key was talking about and was Jonghyun all right?

“Our people, they need you most now. You are our savior.”

A tired speech that Jinki had heard several times, but this time applying a great weight to his shoulders he had never felt before. Two rough hands reached out, holding Jinki’s face upwards, and his eyes met small black ones behind years of wisdom now glistening with fear, almost pleading to him.

“You must save us.”

Jinki nodded, nearly dumbstruck. Was there any way he could refuse; could he have the heart to do so? Their people were fighting, and no longer to win but instead to see this battle through to the bitter end.

And as quickly as the old man came, he left, obviously rushed to deal with the catastrophe of the Yous community, leaving Jinki to his devices as the genius, the savior.

It was with a heavy heart that Jinki sat in his work corner, pushing his panic as far away from his mind as possible before Jinki began to analyze the object in his hands. A tiny dark silver ball with protruding bolts, cracked along the center. How had such a tiny thing caused such a giant uproar? How much power did it have to kill so many people? Jinki was determined to find out, prying the sphere open, splitting it into two halves.

Instantly, Jinki dropped the device as if the object was made of acid. It took only one look before the unsettling reality set in, one far more bitter than Jinki could have ever imagined. The coils and wires were meticulously placed with care inside the metal ball, something familiar resonating in its design. Jinki knew how this thing was built, and why he knew how, Jinki desperately wanted to deny. He did not want to believe his discovery because it was only a hunch and perhaps just this once, his intuition was incorrect. He obviously knew how it was built because he was a genius or something.

A failing argument and Jinki looked to his fingertips that felt as if they were burning. His lips twitched at the corners, turning downwards and the twisting of his insides were unable to hide the utter betrayal and guilt he felt.

Where had things gone so wrong?

Jinki recuperated himself, shaking his head, working to pry apart the small ball. Wires, powder and other scraps fell from it and to many, this would just be seen as a mess, but under Jinki’s intense scrutiny he began to deconstruct the device’s function. Rage was bubbling within him, motivation suddenly rising as Jinki knew he had to rebuild this thing, make it better, and make it more deadly. The other side had laid down their cards, and although Jinki could feel the bit of consciousness telling him not to do the same, he ignored it.

He had to make a device that would indiscriminately ruin the Juls, and slowly as the genius, Jinki felt his emotions detach from himself as they did the first time he ever made a gun. There was no guilt during war, only the need to accomplish the given task. Fingers moving nimbly, an expression of blank concentration, Jinki worked away at the small metal machine, drawing up blueprints, configuring wires and constructing a device of his own.

So engrossed in his job, Jinki had not noticed the door creaking open in the early hours of the morning, Jonghyun coming in behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder. It was impeccable timing really, for Jinki just completed the machine, cube-like in structure and slightly different from the original but what he believed would be just as powerful.

Blinking, life seemed to find its way back into his tired eyes and Jinki turned to Jonghyun who was looking at him rather solemnly.

“I finished,” whispered Jinki beneath his breath, just noticing the numerous bloodstains that had leeched into Jonghyun’s clothing. The younger man looked broken, as if he had seen the world’s end, which was likely not far from the truth.

Jinki stood, finally turning away from his work, pulling the dark-haired man into his timid embrace, which did not work as intended. Jonghyun was still stiff, and Jinki held him tighter to no avail, the warmth of his body seeming to simply slide off the younger man. The only solace Jinki had was when he felt Jonghyun’s hands rest on his waist, a sign that at least some form of consciousness was left.

“Tell me what happened,” Jinki urged from the boy, wrapping a hand in black hair, trying to help his friend in any way he knew how.

“Everyone is gone hyung.”

The words rung in Jinki’s ears and he felt Jonghyun tremble against his body.

“I wasn’t there to help,” explained Jonghyun, his flat tone pushing the anxiety level higher within Jinki, “There were hundreds of bodies, and the gunfire from over the divide; it didn’t stop. The old men are gone, all my friends, my sister… Those bastards are fucking trying to kill us all. They are actually trying to kill us all.” A croak and the only feelings that the young fighter could seem to express were anger and guilt. “Yet somehow even with all the shooting, I was still alive hyung, I was still that fucking lucky hero.”

A shaky exhalation and Jinki was pushed away with Jonghyun pointing to the small machine left in Jinki’s work corner, beside a broken table and numerous scraps of metal.

“Tell me what the hell that thing did, how the hell it destroyed the place.” The question was more of an order and Jinki complied, too scared of the consequences of doing otherwise.

“It’s an explosive Jonghyun,” Jinki replied, sadness seeping its way into him as he looked at the tiny metal object, seemingly so harmless, “When you activate it and it hits the ground the explosive basically sends pieces from inside itself and the ground flying, like-” The words ran dry in Jinki’s mouth as he explained it in the simplest way possible for Jonghyun. “Like a shower of bullets, ricocheting rocks into even more ammunition when it hits the ground...”

Just as expected, Jonghyun’s gaze darkened as he swiped the object from the ground. Jinki could barely react in time, holding his hand over Jonghyun’s shaking one.

“How do I use it hyung?”

Jinki’s heart dropped, and he shook his head desperately, trying to stop his friend.

“But you’ve never killed someone before,” Jinki remarked, finally understanding just how broken Jonghyun had become, how separated their worlds had become, turning on all the principles the youth had held dear before. “You’ve never done it Jonghyun.”

“I won’t miss this time.” The speech broke down around the edges. “I can’t miss this time.”

And that was when Jinki gave in and explained the cube-like device to Jonghyun; what button to press and the importance that he made sure it reached the other side of the crevice within twenty seconds, and to try and run away as soon as possible. He gave in, revealing such vital information to Jonghyun because Jinki could not deny the coldness running through his veins, telling him that destiny was running its course, that there was nothing else left to fight for. Jinki could feel the overwhelming sense of hopelessness, the situation where one was to act or die, and he was certain Jonghyun felt the same.

Therefore when Jinki pulled on his jacket, ready to leave with Jonghyun, he did not expect it when the younger man pushed him back into the room shaking his head. He did not expect it when Jonghyun rushed to place a chaste kiss over his chapped lips, clutching his shoulders tightly, and Jinki did not expect it when a swift fist punched him square in the stomach. He kneeled over on the floor coughing, his consciousness struggling against the impending need to faint, but Jinki held on enough to hear Jonghyun’s tense explanation.

“I’m sorry hyung, I know you don’t feel the same and I put you through a lot of crap, but…” The voice quivered and Jinki caught the small remorseful smile of his friend behind a blurring vision. “… If there is anyone that can survive this shithole of a world, it has to be you.”

The door shut, and yet again Jinki wanted to scream as he was trapped, falling victim to the darkness that swept his mind as his body gave out.

“Do you know which is worse?”

The question was raised in thin air, Jinki barely able to catch the whispery words, his body curled in on itself.

“Being lonely for an eternity or watching all your friends die in an instant?’

Jinki furrowed his eyebrows together, struggling to open his heavy eyelids which felt as if they were glued shut, probably not being far from the truth as Jinki failed at what should have been a simple task. Jinki could only lie helplessly, without sight. He felt it beneath his skin however, the hard concrete floor, a pillow placed under his head, and a blanket covering him from head to toe. Jinki was still in the same place where Jonghyun had left him, trapped in the little sanctuary of a box with someone else who continued to speak.

“You were all so different from everyone else so I didn’t think it would have to turn out this way.”

“Key?”

A snort and Jinki could just feel the younger man’s lips curve into a smile; see his expression filled with a sort of dramatic irony. Jinki was right; it was Key with him in the room, probably the one who had taken some care to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. Yet as grateful as Jinki was, he could not help but think of that question he repeatedly thought of when Key was around. Why?

Why did the younger man come as these exact moments and why did he bother coming at all in the first place? Jinki wanted to ask but hushed as Key continued his philosophical spiel in a rather melancholic tone not meant to be interrupted.

“You guys were different; you guys were the first people who didn’t run away from me. I mean I’m both so I shouldn’t exist cause I am a freak of nature: an impossibility, a rift in our perception of reality. You guys, you guys didn’t give a shit though.”

A dry laugh and Jinki’s confusion seemed to only twist further, uncertain of whether Key was reciting this story for self-reflection or to inform Jinki of something.

“None of you cared that I looked the way I did, even that tall bug-eyed-frog guy. Sure you guys all had to think it over for a split second, but then in the end none of you worried about what I looked like; you all just wanted to listen to what I had to say. Taemin was the sweetest thing ever, with a bit of a smart mouth though, and Minho didn’t say much, but damned to admit it, he was really cool.”

“W-what?” Jinki managed to stutter out, nearly in disbelief as he attempted to open his eyes and move his lead body without much success. Key ignored the surprise of his incapacitated companion much to Jinki’s dismay, and went on with his speech.

“Jonghyun was probably the best though, so laidback with a striking attitude. Sticks out from the crowd but cares about everyone. I like those types. Fuck you were so lucky and you didn’t even know it. That is why you were the worst, so awkward and weird. You make really lame jokes and miss the whole point of everything.”

Jinki frowned, unhappy that his body was unwilling to move, leaving him stranded to listen to Key’s disapproval of him.

“But I have to thank you too.”

The begrudging tone caught Jinki off-guard as he stilled his efforts to move his body, once again focused on Key’s voice.

“Out of everyone, you gave me the feeling that the world might not end, even if that feeling was wrong in the end. Hope, such a weird and stupid idea and yet I felt it for a split second.” Another scoff. “It kind of felt nice to believe in something.”

Jinki’s breath slowed. Key spoke so casually yet all Jinki could feel were the bitterness of the words, the implications that everyone knew but did not say; that there would be no happy ending. Key’s speech only reaffirmed what Jinki knew all along, despite all his responsibilities, he would not be able to change anything in the greater scheme of things.

“But.”

A tingling sensation ran through Jinki’s body as he could feel the numbness slowly dissipating from his limbs.

“But when you get up Jinki, I do have some advice to give to you. Get out of this place as soon as you wake up and run, just run to wherever your gut tells you to.”

His heart racing at the message, Jinki was barely able to notice the younger man’s presence above him. He only noticed when soft lips were pressed to his cheek, a firm touch pressing into his skin, almost as if to confirm that he still existed. That one touch and Jinki knew exactly how Key felt, the seemingly secure youth actually filled with frustration, anxiety and fear. Key withdrew quickly however and even with Jinki’s control returning to his body, he knew it would not be fast enough to catch the sharp witted man before he left. Jinki could hear the creak of the metal door and with the strength he had, he shouted.

“You weren’t alone Key.” A worthless message Jinki knew, but he needed to say it. “You weren’t alone for an eternity.”

“Does this also mean you guys won’t die?”

A freezing burn in Jinki’s chest, words unable to form on his lips before Key let out another remorseful sigh.

“Fuck you Lee Jinki; you fooled me again. Stop making me feel hopeful, it only makes the truth hurt a lot more.”

Jinki’s eyes fluttered open at last, catching the streaks of colours contrasting against black strands of hair and the small grin of a youthful face.

“And my name isn’t Key, it’s Kibum, Kim Kibum.”

The new name found its way to Jinki’s lips however Jinki would not be given the chance to recite the two simple syllables, his eyes opening wide as the ground shook violently. A loud noise rang out, stinging Jinki’s eardrums and the familiar scene had returned, only amplitudes stronger. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and Jinki lifted himself upwards, blankets falling to the ground, his limbs suddenly loose. He ignored all the crashing around him, metal tools falling and denting the floor.

Dust fell and Jinki could see it, the cracks running along the once pristine white walls, pieces of concrete splitting. Key was right, he had to get out. Dashing forward without a second thought, Jinki leapt out of the open metal door, heart pounding. And in the following ten seconds, Jinki watched with wide eyes as the box made of four walls collapsed, fragile and crumbling to the ground, unable to deal with a second impact. The place Jinki had been imprisoned in trapped by its secure structure, gone just like that, no longer a place that could hide him away for protection.

It was gone, and the realization dawned on Jinki as he looked at the concrete rubble, mouth agape. His his fate had changed: he no longer had the old men in control of his every move and he was no longer encapsulated in a white box, he was free to move anywhere he wanted. This freedom though oddly felt empty, as if his mind held nothing and Jinki drew in a warm breath from the air heated by the sun.

An affirmed nod and Jinki knew exactly why his mind was so clear. There were so many options: to run in the direction of the blast and look for Jonghyun, to run after and find the mysterious boy Key, or to run away and find a life of his own and restart. But Jinki knew that truly, none of these were options for him as there was only one path he needed to follow. The flash of brown eyes and reddish curly hair in his mind and Jinki knew exactly where he was needed.

His legs took off beneath him, sweat beading beneath dark clothes scorched by the harsh rays of sunlight. It was unbearably warm but oddly refreshing with a hint of numbness in his chest. This odd mix of feelings and Jinki grinned bitterly to himself, finding it funny how Key was right about everything, how everything was going in accordance to the young man’s words.

In due time, Jinki reached his destination, the rock formation no longer split in two, a metal bridge connecting the two together. It was just as Jinki predicted, and darkness clouded his thoughts as he clambered up the structure. This situation would be retribution for naivety blindly inducing unspeakable crimes, unforgivable innovations leading to unethical deeds, the carelessness of adolescents, a retribution for the both of them.

“Taemin.”

“Hyung.”

It was as Jinki predicted, the slim youth standing on the bridged gap, Taemin glowing in the sunlight that reflected off his white jacket. Yet this glow was the only thing that brightened Taemin’s complexion, as Jinki noted the rings under the young man’s eyes, how grossly pale he was, body just screaming exhaustion. It was almost the same as Jinki, who was not as pale, nor as thin, but certainly not the definition of health. The state they were in was not the sort of confrontation Jinki wanted to have with Taemin, but there was no other choice.

Jinki swallowed, saliva sticking the words in his throat. He had to ask, even though Jinki already knew the answer. “You did it didn’t you-”

“But I knew you would do it better.”

The rueful sneer from the boyish voice and Jinki’s heart dropped a mile, the only confirmation he needed. Taemin had done it, he had made the first bomb. The wires, the careful configuration and the deceptively innocent structure with an explosive surprise; that little sphere that could only be made by Taemin. And the boy knew Jinki had copied it.

“You made it better than me hyung,” repeated Taemin, his eyes deftly cold, “Just like when we first met, I knew you had more potential than me. The elders even told me I was more important than Minho so maybe I just got a little cocky cause I thought I would never meet anyone worth my interest, but when I met you, somehow I knew I couldn’t measure up.” A cracked laugh. “You quacked better than me, you made me laugh and do more than just smile. I regret not making you come with me. Forget you? What kind of shitty suggestion was that?”

Taemin stepped forward, and Jinki stood his ground, barely able to look into Taemin’s darkened azure eyes. He only flinched when Taemin threw a metal device to the floor, the clunky square of singed wires rattling with a scratching noise as it impacted the metal bridge.

“This thing was just like you Jinki hyung, clumsy looking and seemingly harmless,” spat Taemin, “But do you know how many more people you killed, how much more powerful your bomb was than mine?”

Jinki shook his head, his confidence suddenly peeling around the edges. In his box, this was a reality he had never needed nor wanted to know.

“There is pretty much no one left.”

Jinki bit his lower lip.

“You killed my brother.”

Jinki averted his gaze.

“Taemin and I are the only ones left because of you. But thankfully, you two are the only ones left as well.”

Jinki raised his head, breath gone cold in response to the deep voice, unwavering with a hint of anger. There he stood across the divide, just behind Taemin; the tall youth aiming a silver gun for Jinki’s head once again, except this time; Taemin was not struggling to stop Minho. Instead the boy had looked away, expressionless with but the smallest of frowns, a stark contrast to his panicked behavior from the last similar instance.

Oddly enough, Jinki knew his feelings were also completely different in this familiar situation and he blinked. His body had not gone numb with tremors, nor had his mind filled with fright and the urge to run. There was no survival instinct taking over and it was with a bitter smile that Jinki realized he was giving in yet again. He had indirectly killed so many people so it was a small cost to pay with his life. Jinki scanned Taemin’s back, the clear sign of avoidance, and the clear sign to him that no one wanted him alive any longer.

He could accept it and Jinki looked at his fingers, folding them in and out. It was a small price to pay. Spreading his arms apart, he stood staring directly at Minho’s large eyes across the crevice. Jinki’s heart was pounding madly and he swallowed, thinking useless thoughts of whether it would hurt or not. He could see the small smile on Minho’s face, acknowledging that Jinki had accepted defeat. Even if he accepted it, Jinki closed his eyes, because a little hesitance was all right was it not?

Pull the trigger.

The loud crack of a shot rang in Jinki’s ears, but he felt nothing, not the tearing of skin, the sting of pain, nor the impact of a flying bullet. Surely this was not an instantaneous kill felt like? A tremble of the lips, and with closed eyes, Jinki could barely hold on to the weight that fell on him and was unaware of. It was at that moment he could feel it, warm liquid seeping through the front of his clothing, seeping onto the skin of his stomach and dripping down towards his toes.

Jinki’s eyes snapped open and tears sprung forward as the worst had come true. He should have paid attention to Minho’s words. There were two of them left, except now…

“J-Jonghyun?”

His breath was nearly gone, and the words came out in a squeak. The youthful fighter lay limp in his arms, struggling for air, clutching Jinki with the little strength he had left. Jinki’s body locked as he held Jonghyun, vision blinded with crimson, unable to think, eyes wide and round. His legs gave in however as Jinki slid clumsily to the floor, taking Jonghyun with him, who was coughing up sputum tinged a dark red.

“F-fuck.” A wheezing noise from the strong featured youth. “I thought you were d-dead.”

Truly at this moment, Jinki wished he was.

“I looked through the rubble though and couldn’t find you.” Another hacking cough from the man, clenching Jinki’s chest tight as he shook his head, unable to form his own words, but urging with squeezes on the Jonghyun’s shoulder to stop talking. Jonghyun of course, ignored his request and looked Jinki face to face, a small but weak grin on his lips. “I’m glad I came here hyung. You always get into the weirdest troubles outside so I just knew… But I already told you, out of anyone you have to make it…”

Quickened breaths, eyes frozen, a wheezing rattle that haunted the ears, and limbs gone limp in his arms, Jinki watched with dumbstruck horror as the blood pooled around his legs, sticky and dry.

Jonghyun was gone.

Sobs threatening to wrack his body, Jinki placed his hands over Jonghyun’s eyes, the imagery of his best friend’s dilated pupils and lifeless stare forever imprinted in his mind. If anything, Jinki wanted to disappear, go back into hiding, but he knew now was not the time as he laid Jonghyun’s body flat and placed his bloody jacket over the youth, aware of rigor mortis and the other frightening consequence of death.

If there was one minute detail that Jinki could be thankful for, it was the scene across the divide. Somehow during this mess, Taemin had sprung forward, holding Minho back from completing his mission, killing Jinki, the last of the Yous. The boy with red hair looked utterly confused, struggling to hold Minho down while crying with unrelenting tears, probably not nearly as hot as Jinki’s. Had this been the first kill that both of them have witnessed, despite being arguably the worst murderers?

There was no time to contemplate this idea however as rational thought had long left Jinki, his arms shaking as he reached for the black device on Jonghyun belt, beside a white dead hand. Clutching the gun with both hands, Jinki quivered as he raised his arms and shakily aimed across the divide, pure rage and adrenaline blinding him. The first direct kill he would ever make.

bang

Completely silent with wide stark eyes and a penetrating shot to the forehead, blood sputtering out, and a body crumpling to the ground. A shrill scream only seconds later, and sobs from an adolescent that would have normally shattered Jinki’s heart, except he felt nothing at this time, absolutely nothing. He did not care as Taemin kneeled above Minho, shaking and crying with sobs. Jinki just did not care, allowing the empty feeling to consume him as his legs gave under him again, knees falling as they hit the surface of the bridge, Jonghyun’s body forgotten behind him. There was nothing left to feel.

That is why Jinki was not shaken even when Taemin approached him, stepping onto the bridge, blue eyes filled with a misty rage, thin arm trembling with a silver gun directed at him. Jinki had said it all along, that this would be retribution. It was only then Jinki noticed his tears had dried, leaving red streaks on his cheeks. As always, he had completely resigned to his fate, never fighting it nor questioning it. Jinki could only think that this was the way things had to be.

Which is why, there was one slight feeling that rose in Jinki as admiration and a reminiscent affection bubbled in him as Taemin’s mouth opened, declaring principled thoughts.

“Is this what it feels like to be an adult hyung?” questioned the youth with a quivering anger, his white jacket stained a scarlet red, “Where I don’t want to do something but have to? You killed Minho hyung- I could have forgiven you for anything, but-!”

Taemin was wrong; Jinki was not the better one of the two of them because Jinki never held his own; he was just a blind follower. Taemin stood by his own values.

Before the red haired adolescent could react, Jinki had jumped forward, clutching Taemin’s shoulders, melding the smaller body into his. For once, he wanted to be selfish, and as Taemin’s mouth opened for a gasp, Jinki took advantage, kissing Taemin as if the boy were air itself. Their tongues slid together, and Taemin squeaked, teeth hitting clumsily against Jinki’s until the youth tilted his head at just the right angle, deepening the awkward kiss. And all at once, Jinki could feel it, the differences between them, the boy’s lips moist and not chapped like his, a body physically lacking in comparison to his own yet brimming with a warmth that Jinki had never experienced. But surprisingly, for being different, Jinki could not help but think mournfully that if felt like a perfect match. A realization far too late.

click

Parting just barely a centimeter between shaky pants, Jinki smiled sullenly, the silver gun now pointing and prodding into his chest, right before his pounding heart, a contrast to his calm mind.

“I hate how you adults make things so complicated,” Taemin scoffed, his tears gone dry with an equally as bitter smile on his face that twitched at the corners.

Jinki did not reply, he simply leaned into the weapon and raised his own with a steady hand, placing his arm parallel to Taemin’s, pointing the black gun at the boy’s chest.

“Hyung, is this what you meant when you asked if we bled the same blood?” whispered the adolescent with clear blue eyes, still the more nervous of the two, “Is this how you wanted to find out?”

Jinki shook his head, raising his free hand to the creamy white skin of Taemin’s jaw line, pressing his lips again to youth’s in the effort to stop the their trembling. The cock of his own gun as it was ready to fire and Jinki mouthed the words against Taemin’s lips.

Three… two… one…

This is the way things were meant to be, because karma was a bitch and he had learnt that lesson long before he was born. The sharp eyed man sat at the edge of the crevice, inhaling a deep breath of warm air as cold tears slid down his cheeks, smudging the black liner surrounding his eyes. As life dictated, there always had to be one who was left to cry for the dead.

Kibum smirked, rubbing his eyes as he lifted himself from the ground and looked with scornful eyes to the emptiness surrounding him. He wondered who would be left to cry for him.
-----
So yeah, um, I really ended up hating this fic… Not advertising on replay cause I am not sure I like this, and might edit it. Sorry for putting readers through all of this… Yes you can hate on me now. :(