this is where it splits in half honey, love or death (grab an end, pull hard and make a wish) [4/12]
There's a strong smell of lavender piercing the darkness, and Jongdae's conscience stirs awake, attracted by the odd familiarity coming with the scent. It's still pitched black around him, black on his eyelids and in his mind, but he knows that, no matter how long he's been unconscious, that same smell has been around him. Just like he knows that the feminine voice, soft and light, now humming so close to him has lulled him for the past hours-days? For the first time since Jongdae passed out though, both the smell and the voice get to him, and panic starts swelling in his chest.
He tries to control his breathing, so that the woman near him doesn't notice that he's awake, and forces his eyeballs to remain motionless. The slightest flicker on his eyelids could be deadly. She could be cleaning under her nails with a dangerously sharpened knife right now, and Jongdae's carotid is too close to her for him to take any risk. His conscience is still swimming under water, struggling to reach the surface, but one by one, his senses all come back to him.
The woman shifts next to him, her voice suddenly closer, and the following second, Jongdae can feel her breath fanning his face. She's still singing, obviously not daring to let her voice follow the flights of lyricism, but she still hits some of the notes pretty well. So well, actually, that Jongdae can make out the song, a pop song he remembers hearing on some random TV shows, promoted by a lively girl group. The smell of lavender is stronger, until it gets almost overwhelming when a delicate hand lightly pats Jongdae's neck, leaving a moist patch behind. She's putting some lavender oil on me, Jongdae realises, dumbfounded.
“Hey Yeri,” says a very different voice, a man's voice. “Fancy some dried apricots?”
Jongdae tenses, the slender fingers still against his neck, and he realises his mistake too late. He relaxes, his heart beating erratically in his chest.
“Oh,” the woman says. “Yeah, why not? Thank you, oppa.”
Jongdae catches some more ruffling next to him, but he doesn't really pay attention, as it all crashes down on him. The name, Yeri, and the mark of respect-even the song takes on its full meaning now as it rings through Jongdae's mind as that one stupid song Jongin used to hum from time to time.
Too caught up in the cold realisation, he doesn't feel the woman scooting closer again until it's too late.
“You can open your eyes now,” she says straight into Jondgae's ear. “We're all alone.”
Jongdae's eyes shoot open wide, his heart jumping into his throat, and the first thing he sees is the woman's face hovering over him. Girl would actually be a more fitting term, Jongdae immediately realises as she flashes him a dimpled smile. He dimly remembers Jongin saying that Yeri, his Yeri, was only seventeen years old. Jongdae doesn't doubt that this Yeri is Jongin's Yeri.
“I'm sorry,” she says with a warm smile. “I didn't want to scare you, but I felt you tense when Taehyung oppa was talking, so I figured you might like it better if it was just the two of us.” She pauses, just enough to breath in, and immediately continues. “I'm Yeri, and I took care of you while you were unconscious. We found you in a bush near a house, and you're lucky we did, because you were bleeding-Oh but just a little, don't worry! We use lavender oil for tiny wounds, we found out a couple of months ago that, oddly enough, they couldn't smell the blood over the lavender. Funny, right? You wouldn't believe how we found out though. You see, I've put on two drops of lavender oil for so long even after the Misty Days, just there” she points at her earlobe. “--behind my ear, and well, that day we--”
“Please shut up,” Jongdae groans.
Yeri watches him, far from looking offended, her smile still perched on her face. She's on her knees next to him, her delicate hands spread on her naked thighs. She's wearing a dress, Jongdae notices, a little surprised, and a pair of short leggings to make up for the short skirt. Her hair is long, tangled and dry, but still cascading over her shoulders with a certain grace, and even the dirt on her face isn't enough to cover how pretty and young she is.
Jongdae looks away, bile rising up in his oesophagus. They're inside a plain house, all the shutters closed and the lack of light sliding through the cracks tells Jongdae it's dark outside. The only light in the almost empty room comes from a lantern placed directly on the floor, its glow of a cold pale blue, just like those mosquito repellent lanterns Jongdae's family used to put in the garden during summer nights. Yeri didn't lie, they're all alone in the room, but one quick look to his belt and Jongdae understands that she didn't take any risk. His machete is gone.
“Ah yes,” Yeri grimaces, following Jongdae's eyes. “Seulgi took your weapon, just in case. She'll give it back, don't worry.”
Jongdae sits up, and a peak of pain makes him groan. He looks down to find his arm immobilized by what looks like an old shirt tied up around his neck. He glances at Yeri.
“How long have I been out?” he asks.
“One day and a half.” She looks so pleased to know the answer. “Like I said, we found you in that bush when we arrived in the city. We've been waiting for you to wake up ever since.”
Jongdae slowly nods, looking down at his wounded arm. He wiggles his fingers, and winces at the light pain echoing through his bones. It's not as strong as it was in the first place though, and it's good news. His shoulder was probably dislocated and now that it's been put back in joint, it's already a little bit better. It still makes him the easiest prey for the Infected though.
“Here,” Yeri says, handing him a small basket full of dried apricots. “Have some fruits. It's all we have for now, because we lost our food after an attack a week ago. But Seulgi, Kyungsoo and Junmyeon have left food hunting a few hours ago. There's a warehouse on the other side of the city, so they'll have plenty of food when they'll be back.”
“No,” Jongdae tenses. “That warehouse.. I was there, we-I got attacked there.”
Yeri freezes.
“You sure?” she asks hesitantly. “When we first came here a few weeks ago, it was a safe place...”
“Yeah,” Jongdae snaps back. “Was.”
He glares at her, shifting so he can get back on his feet, but Yeri immediately comes back from the look of pure fear on her face to stop him, her hands now stronger on Jongdae's sane shoulder.
“What do you think you're doing?” she asks him, accusing. “I'm not letting you go, you're too weak. Eat your fruits.”
“But--”
“Now,” she cuts him, her voice commanding.
In the span of a few seconds, she aged of a few years, and her dark eyes, warm and smiling the second before, are now cutting and heavy on Jongdae. He immediately shoves an apricot in his mouth, frowning. Yeri narrows her eyes at him as Jongdae chews the dried fruit, her frown only disappearing when he swallows it.
“Great,” Yeri says. “Now you wait here. And you eat.”
She gets back on her feet and walks out of the room, leaving Jongdae behind with his basket of apricots on his knees. He tilts his head on the side to try and glances through the door she left wide open, but aside from her footsteps getting distant, he doesn't see nor hear anything. He does catches sight of the front door though, and the furniture gathered against it to block it. It's a clever move, but one that can be achieved only when there are several pair of arms to lift the couches and tables. Jongdae looks around again, mindlessly munching on another apricot, and notices the absence of other beddings in the room, which means that Yeri's friends aren't stupid enough to sleep next to him when they don't know him.
Jongdae licks his lips, eye scanning the room for a bottle of water, but he resolves to eat another apricot when he finds none. From what Yeri has told him, the warehouse is at the opposite side of the city, which means that Jongin and Jongdae had absolutely zero chance of meeting Yeri's group where they were waiting. They would have made it eventually though, in the warehouse or in the city. They were so close...
His stomach giving a worrying jump, Jongdae puts the basket away, his hunger vanished.
“What did I say about eating?”
Jongdae looks up, and his eyes settle on Yeri standing on the threshold of the room with now three of her friends by her side. There's only one boy, who looks barely older than Yeri, and Jongdae identifies him as Taehyung right away. His long bangs held back by a grey beanie leave plenty of room on his forehead for his thick eyebrows, now furrowed at Jongdae, more intrigued than suspicious though. The smaller of the two remaining girls is partly hidden behind Yeri, but Jongdae still makes out a round face and a flat nose. He doesn't catch more details though, because his gaze is immediately drawn to the last girl, who is now stepping up with fierce and questioning eyes.
“Tell me exactly what happened in the warehouse,” she asks him with autority.
She's obviously the one in charge while the others are gone, and she makes sure Jongdae understands it. But under the layer of power she's wearing, Jongdae easily spots concern for her friends, and most importantly, the ability of actually do something about it, which isn't Yeri's speciality, obviously.
“I wanted to used it as a shelter for the day,” Jongdae says, purposely making it sound like he was alone. “But I got attacked by a group of Infected inside. I reckon there must be a nest not far.”
The girl's eyes narrow at him as she gauges him, and Jongdae holds her gaze. She looks smaller than him, but he wouldn't take her as weak anyway. There's something dangerous about her, and not only because she's sporting two holsters, one hanging low on her small waist for her gun, and the other wrapped around her thigh for a hunting knife. She looks like she wouldn't hesitate to use either of her weapons, and without his own machete, Jongdae can't do anything. He knows how to look submissive though, so he looks down, blinking two or three times, and emphasizes his gesture by biting his inner cheek.
“Soojung...?” asks the younger girl, her fingers clenched around her leader's arm. “What if they stumbled upon the Infected...?”
Jongdae glances through his bangs, and catches the leader-Soojung, bitting on her lower lip.
“I'm going to find them,” she says suddenly. The smaller girl's grip tightens on her arm, and Soojung softly strokes her hair. “Don't worry, I'll come back.”
She glances at Jongdae. “How many were they?”
“Eight.”
She nods, pulling the younger girl away and slowly pushing her into Yeri's arms.
“If I find them in time, it'll be four against eight. It's doable,” she whispers, more for herself than for the others, then blinks and her gaze focuses on Jongdae again before she turns towards Taehyung and Yeri.
“Watch him. I'll be back in no time.”
Yeri nods, glancing at Jongdae, and Soojung sighs. She checks her weapons while Taehyung walks to the window and opens the shutters. Soojung follows suit, tying her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head. She was probably blonde a year ago, but the golden highlights have now died down to a sickly yellowish colour, and the twelve centimeters or so that her hair gained over the past month are pitched black. The two opposite colors look weird, clashing, when Soojung's long hair cascades on her back, but it's almost pretty when it's tied up. The two-colored strand falling on the side of her face crack the innocence her face conveys when it's not framed by her hair. Jongdae can't help but think that she looks like a modern witch, kind of.
Soojung bestrides the window, and looks at them again, her hands on the ledge for balance and one of her legs dangling outside.
“You're in charge,” she tells Taehyung, who promptly nods. “See you later,” she adds with a light wink before jumping on the other side.
She doesn't make a sound when she lands, and Jongdae catches sight of her running across the lawn, feline and totally silent, just before Taehyung closes the shutters. The girl, still clinging to Yeri, lets out a shaky sob, and Taehyng takes her into what looks like a warm embrace. He pats the back of her head, reassuring.
“Don't worry Suhyunie, they'll all come back.”
Jongdae's eyes probably linger for a second too long on Taehyung and the little girl -Suhyun- because Yeri, previously carding her fingers through Suhyun's messy hair, looks at him. She frowns.
“Eat,” she commands.
And Jongdae finds himself unable to argue, instead diligently stuffing his mouth with two dried apricots under Yeri's pleased gaze.
“So,” Jongdae starts. “Yeri, right?”
The latter, sat next to him, lets out a small chuckle. Soojung has been gone for an hour and a half, but considering the city's size, there's nothing worrying yet. She probably reached the warehouse less than thirty minutes ago, and only if she kept the pace she had when she left the house. In the meanwhile, the four of them have stayed in the same room Jongdae woke up in. Taehyung though, kept his distance, carefully choosing a spot on the other side of the room and dragging Suhyun with him. The latter is now fast asleep, her head on Taehyun's lap who keeps stroking her hair. Yeri wasn't as cautious, since she took back her spot next to Jongdae, forcing him to eat all the apricots left, and giving him some water to drink. She splattered more lavender oil on his back, where the skin has been scratched by his fall from the roof, and Jongdae clenched his jaws through the stinging sensation. They were sitting in silence for more than half an hour when he finally spoke.
“Yeah,” Yeri nods. “That's not my name, actually. It was my favorite singer's stage name. I figured she wouldn't mind me taking it.”
“Oh,” Jongdae says, not really knowing what else to say.
He finds himself gravitating around Yeri like a hawk moth attracted by a lantern, his mind constantly drawing links between her and Jongin, no matter how much it hurts. He's been fighting himself for the past hour, trying to swallow down all his questions because he knows how bad of an idea it is, but they finally splurt out on their own. He gives in -too easily- but watches all her reactions almost hungrily.
“You mentionned an attack a week ago?” he asks.
Luckily for him, he's a great actor and it saved him a couple of time, so faking nonchalance instead of the burning curiosity he feels right now isn't too hard. He's done the maths. Jongin said they were fourteen in the beginning. Yeri mentionned three of them left food hunting. Soojung has left too, and there are three of them left in the house. Which would mean only seven survivors out of fourteen. Jongdae doesn't care really, but something is urging him, strong and insistent under his skin. He needs to know what happened and who died.
“Yeah,” Yeri breathes out. She glances at Taehyung whose eyes are already on them, dark but not angry. Just... sad. “We usually don't get caught by daylight,” Yeri continues. “But that day was different. We had... well..”
Talking about it is obviously difficult for her, but Jongdae doesn't say anything. He needs to know.
“Seokjin was sick,” Taehyung intervenes. Suhyun stirrs in his lap, and he pulls up the blanket he threw on her earlier. “Seokjin was my friend,” he informs Jongdae.
“It was his appendix,” Yeri continues. “It burst, and he was in pain. It was just a stupid appendicitis, but in the current times..”
Jongdae nods, understanding. Deadly.
“We tried to help him though,” she keeps going. “We had no other choice than to open him, so we used a lot of lavender oil, but it took longer than we thought it would, and before we knew it, it was sunrise. There was too much blood, and eventually the lavender oil stopped working.”
Jongdae glances at Taehyung, whose eyes are lowered, veiled and glassy. When he draws back his attention on Yeri, he finds her watching Taehyung too, sad and sorry. She blinks and looks at Jongdae.
“We had to leave him open on the grass when the Infected started coming. There was so many of them... We lost six of us that day, including Suhyun's older brother, Chanhyuk.”
Jongdae tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, in vain. He looks down at his fingers, Jongin filing his mind. He wonders what kind of relationship Jongin and Chanhyuk had.
“And we also lost Jongin, he--” Yeri pauses, her voice losing its soft tone for a more breathy one, a shakier one. “He took another way out of the forest, and we can't find him.. That's why we're here, the warehouse is supposed to be a safe place, and our meeting spot when we get separated, but you said it was full of Infected and--”
Her voice breaks, and she looks away. Jongdae's heart beats so fast in his chest that he feels it pressing against his ribcage.
“Jongin is alive, Yeri,” Taehyun says, sharp and strong. “He'll be there soon. Don't worry.” He pauses, and looks at Jongdae. “Have you seen anyone else in the warehouse? Or traces of anyone?”
Jongdae shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. Next to him, Yeri gives Taehyung a small smile as she folds back her legs against her chest.
“I'm sorry,” Jongdae adds, probably more for himself than for Yeri, but she still looks at him with kindness, her dimpled smile back on her lips as she reaches out and pats him on the arm.
“Don't be-,” she pauses, then opens her eyes wide. “I didn't even ask for your name?”
“Jongdae,” Jongdae shrugs.
“Nice to meet you, Jongdae,” Yeri chirps, her smile widening. “How old are you?”
“Twenty four,” Jongdae frowns, hoping that, maybe, she'll get the hint.
“Oh.” She obviously doesn't. “Oppa. You're the oldest here. Taeyung oppa is twenty-one, and both Suhyunie and I are seventeen.”
She looks as happy as Jongin was to be able to use some honorifics, so happy that Jongdae can't find it in himself to look at her. He glances at Taehyung instead, and finds him looking at Yeri with the shadow of a smile tugging at his lips, and warm and amused eyes.
“Anyway, don't worry oppa,” Yeri keeps going. “Taehyung oppa is right. Jongin will be there soon. He probably found someone and it took some convincing to bring them here. See, Jongin as a thing for strays, and I really wouldn't be surprised-- right oppa?” she asks, turning her head towards Taehyung who promptly nods.
“I'm tired,” Jongdae blurts out as Yeri finally catches her breath. His heart is pumping ice through his veins, and he quickly looks away, fleeing her surprised glance.
“Oh,” she says with big worried eyes. “Of course you are. Wait, I'll--”
She scrunches up her nose and shifts on all fours, reaching out to grab the blanket Jongdae woke up on earlier. She pulls it towards her and hands him to Jongdae.
“Here,” she continues. “Don't worry, Taehyung oppa and I, we'll--”
“Yeah,” Jongdae cuts her, groaning. “I'm not worried.”
He grabs the blanket, ignoring Yeri's confused look at his sharp gesture, and wraps himself in the blanket before turning on his side, his back to Yeri.
He's not really tired, but he has to play his part now, especially if closing his eyes and pretending to fall asleep can save him from Yeri's rambling. It's not that easy, as Jongdae quickly finds out though, because in the new silence filling the room, all he can hear are Taehyung, Suhyun and Yeri's breathing. The irony of it all doesn't escape him, the fact that Yeri was the one finding him minutes, not more than an hour, after he let Jongin died. It feels like it's a very bad joke the universe is playing on him, but Jongdae isn't amused, at all.
He slightly shifts so that his wounded shoulder presses against the wooden floor, hoping that the pain shooting through his arm will be enough to take his mind off Jongin. He's not really surprised that it doesn't though, and the lump in his throat only gets bigger with every second passing by watching Jongin's terrified eyes play over and over again on the back of eyelids. At least he's learned that the attack of Jongin's group wasn't because of the blood he pourred on the frontsteps of Luhan's house, which doesn't really help actually, because now he's thinking about that boy with the infected appendix they tried to help despite all the blood it would involve. What would have been the outcome if it had been Jongin up that roof? Easy one, Jongdae thinks. Jongin was there when they all made the decision to cut the boy open, wasn't he? He probably came up with the idea himself. And Yeri probably stood by him, with her dimpled smile and her warm eyes. If it had been Jongin up that roof, maybe he and Jongin would be here right now. Or maybe they would both be dead. It unsurprisingly doesn't help Jongdae either.
Jongdae wakes up with a start, the skin around his eyes feeling stiff and swollen. Still half asleep, he sits up, the quick gesture making him dizzy, and touches his face, confused. He follows the sticky trails down his eyes to his jawline, and realises with fragmented thoughts that he probably fell asleep crying. His reflexes coming back to life, he quickly grabs the blanket he's still wrapped up in and wipes his face while his eyes scan the room, seeking whatever woke him. Sunlight is slipping through the cracks around the shutters, showering in a shy light Taehyung and Suhyun fast asleep on the other side of the room. Suhyun is clinging to Taehyung who has an arm protectively wrapped around her. Jongdae narrows his eyes at them, his mind still heavy with sleepiness, and finally concludes that they're really sleeping after checking the slow rise of their chests. Yeri, though, is nowhere in sight.
Jongdae untangles himself, groaning when his ankle remains stuck in the blanket. He folds back his leg and quickly unties the sheet. He'd feel better with his machete against his hipbone, especially now that the sun is out, but he tries to reassure himself with the absence of Yeri, and Taehyung and Suhyun still sleeping. He's pretty sure that she wouldn't have let them behind if a threat had shown up.
Jongdae's right, as he quickly concludes, when he catches sight of Yeri and Soojung on the other room, talking with another girl, slightly taller. Now he also knows what woke him up. There's some ruffling on the other side of the wall, noises of plastic wrappings mostly. Food.
Jongdae glances at Taehyung and Suhyun as he gets back on his feet before walking across the room, straight to the hallway. Soojung is the first one seeing him coming, and she pats the other girl on the arm, answering to her questioning look with a head motion towards Jongdae. The latter freezes on the room's threshold when the girl turns towards him.
Her attire is quite impressive. Her body is slender, built for speed and agility with her long legs despite her small height, and the taut muscles rolling under the naked skin of her upper arms. The most impressive though are the medieval two-sided axe and the as ancient spear crossing on her back, popping out behind her head. As if it wasn't enough, she's also wearing two small katanas -chisa katanas Jongdae's inner geek corrects-- on her waist, one on each side. Soojung, with her witch look and fierce eyes looks like a kitten next to that girl.
Jongdae recoils, panic rising in his chest. He remembers Jongin saying that his people were different, but that girl doesn't look very different. It's probably Seulgi, the one in charge of the maps, but she's miles away from the girl Jongdae was picturing. Immune girls are rare, very rare, for pretty obvious reasons-they do bleed once in a month, turning into the perfect bait for Infected. Jongdae clearly remembers that Chinese lady, Liyin, gathering birth control pills in every pharmacies. She had explained him that taking it nonstop stopped periods. He also remembers her beheading the lone Infected that ran into them and disappearing before Jongdae even registered the puddle of blood at his feet. Just like Liyin, Seulgi doesn't look like she would let her periods kill her. He wonders if she managed to keep all the girls in her group alive with the same technique, but honestly, he wouldn't be surprised to learn that she did it with her weapons only.
Her face changes completely when she notices Jongdae's frightened retreat, and right where her eyes were mostly piercing, warmth appears, flooding. She wears her long hair in a high ponytail with not a strand of hair sticking out, and it surprisingly emphasizes the kindness now taking over her face just like it did with her dangerous vibe. Jongdae almost forgets the sharp weapons. Almost.
“Hi,” she says, shifting on her feet so she's facing him. Jongdae spots Yeri's huge grin over her shoulder, but he refuses to let go of Seulgi's eyes, just in case. “My name's Seulgi” she then says, confirming Jongdae's thoughts.
She turns around and bends down to grab a very familiar backpack that she then shows to Jongdae.
“We found this in the warehouse,” she tells him. She points at the handle with a dirty finger, drawing Jongdae's attention on a handwriting just as familiar as the bag. “Kim Jongdeok,” she reads. “Is that you?”
Jongdae remains quiet, even when Seulgi raises an eyebrow at him.
“You told me he spoke Korean, right?” she asks at Yeri and Soojung, confused.
“Of course,” Yeri says, raising a confused eyebrow at Jongdae. “His name is Jongdae.” She looks over at Jongdae. “Don't be so shy, oppa. Seulgi unnie is the one in charge, she's been leading us since the very beginning, and she's really nice.”
“Uh,” Jongdae lets out, glaring at the three girls watching him like he's some fledgling that has fallen from the nest. “Well I'm sorry if I'm not really comfortable around you,” he sasses them, pointing at Seulgi's weapons. “You look like you could turn me into a human kebab. Also--” he steps up and snatches his backpack from Seulgi's hands. The look of pure shock on Yeri's face is quite pleasing. “It's my bag, thank you.”
Yeri looks so outraged at the lack of honorifics and Jongdae's rudeness, it would be hilarious if Jongdae wasn't so annoyed, actually teetering on anger. Every smile Seulgi throws at him makes the edges of his vision go red. He doesn't want to know their names, who they are and how nice they can be, he should have been gone the minute after he woke up, wounded arm or not. At least now he's got his bag back, which means he just has to refill it before leaving. The pang of guilt taking him by surprise when he thinks about stealing Yeri and her friends angers him even more.
Seulgi's amused smile, perched on her natural pink lips, doesn't help, nor the fact that she barely seems troubled by Jongdae's glares.
“Guys,” she says, gesturing towards the side of the room Jongdae can't see.
He frowns and peeks further inside the room, only now noticing two other persons, men this time, putting some food out of a few backpacks. They both glance over their shoulders, straightening when they see Jongdae. The latter's eyes slide down their bodies, down to their waists, and he internally grumbles. Great, more weapons.
“Guys, meet Jongdae,” Seulgi introduces him, her voice still as amused and playfuf. She glances at Jongdae and points towards the smaller guy of the two, with big eyes and thick eyebrows. “Jongdae, this is Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon,” she concludes, showing the last man.
Jongdae immediately decides he doesn't like this Junmyeon guy, because of the warm smile the latter just sent him, as if they were friends. At least, the other one has the common sense to look at him with suspicion, and Jongdae does not miss his fingers getting nearer the long knife hanging on his hipbone.
“I think Jongdae--” Seulgi pauses, glancing at Jongdae's makeshift arm sling, “--is going to stay with us for a while.”
Junmyeon waves at Jongdae with a big smile.
“Welcome,” he greets him.
Jondgae stays there for a few seconds, dumbfounded. He witnesses Junmyeon's face going from warmth to confusion, and rolls his eyes. He snorts, turns on his heels and leaves the room, gripping tight his backpack. Instead of going back in the room he slept in, he turns left towards the stairs that he takes two by two. He's not really in the mood for smiling and warm people, so he finds himself a nice little room and sits in a corner, closing the door behind him. He doesn't think people like Jongin's friends would get the hint and understand what a closed door means, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Jongdae even considers pushing the single bed in front of the door, but the sting of pain it wakes in his arm when he tries immediately stops him.
He could open the shutters and leave, he thinks as he takes in his surroundings. How long does it take for a dislocated shoulder to heal? He probably could find himself a safe place to stay until his arm is good, but it'd be dangerous. Not only because of the Infected, but also because of Luhan. He can't be sure the latter is after him, but might as well take all the possible precautions. Not to mention that he's still weaponless, and that is a risk Jongdae refuses to take.
He slightly deflates, his break-out daydreams going up in smoke. With a deep sigh, he lets himself slide against the wall as he brings his bag closer to his chest, his thumb mindlessly stroking the writing on the handle. He'll have to wait for Seulgi to give him back his machete before trying something. Jongdae also saw what they brought from the warehouse, and there's plenty of food. He could steal a little everyday, so it goes unnoticed, in preparation for the moment he'll leave.
Mind a little more at ease now that he has settled on a plan, Jongdae opens his bag to draw up the inventory of what he already has. He frowns when he looks down at the bag's contents though, something feeling very off even though he's not entirely sure what. He moves the small packs of dried meat aside, and finally understands when he spots the bag of fortune cookies in the bottom. It's the last thing he put inside his bag, so it should have been at the top, and not under everything else. Someone has obviously rummaged through his bag.
Jongdae glances at the still closed door with knitted eyebrows. Seulgi? He immediately crosses out Junmyeon's name of his list, but something tells him Seulgi and Kyungsoo are as innocent. Why would they have brought the bag back? Jongdae turns it upside down, forcing its contents out, and puts the bag aside as he eyes the food and the few useful tools on the floor between his legs. He spreads it all on the carpeting, mindlessly chewing on his under lip as he thinks hard. Nothing seems to be missing, from his lighter to the ammos. He also spots the pain killers and the disinfectant, and even sees the Chinese prediction he found in the fortune cookie. Jongdae seizes it, thumb sliding over the tiny piece of paper to roll it out. He's pretty sure the Chinese character he recognized earlier indeed means love, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't decipher the other ones.
He's about to put the paper away when he freezes. He remembers the boy behind the shelf, the freckles spreading on his nose and cheekbones, and his smirk, the amusement in his eyes. From how well equipped he was, with the rope, bow and quiver, Jongdae doesn't think he would have stolen him the lighter or anything like that. He probably had everything already. As for the food, they were in a warehouse full of goods, and after going on the roof, the boy was safe and free to slide down the rope again to grab what he needed later. Jongdae's eyes zoom on the contents spilled on the floor, and that's when he realises.
His sockets are missing. And with them, the tubes of blood.
The door opens a few hours later, much later than what Jongdae had thought. The reason is pretty simple: Seulgi is the one entering his newly found corner of paradise, and not Yeri like what he was expecting. He immediately notices that Seulgi isn't carrying her axe and spear on her back anymore, although the two katanas are still hanging on her waist. She wordlessly takes in the room as she walks towards Jongdae, still sitting in the corner, and joins him, just as silently. She hands him a plastic cup filled with water and a large cup of curry ramen with chopsticks already planted in the noodles. Jongdae eyes her before gulping down the water, and grabbing the more than welcomed food.
“Yeri didn't want me to bring you food. She said you've been really mean, and she's waiting for your apologies,” Seulgi tells him with a smile.
Jongdae snorts, but the sound comes out weird and gross, since he's also slurping a mouthful of noodles. Seulgi's smile grows wider and more amused.
“That's ridiculous,” Jongdae retorts, licking the flavoured water off his lips. “What does she want? An apology letter?”
“I'm pretty sure she would like that, a lot,” Seulgi chuckles.
Jondgae rolls his eyes, stirring his ramen with his chopsticks.
“There's no mailmen anymore, they're all dead,” he grumbles before bringing up the cup of ramen to stuff another huge mouthful of noodles in his mouth.
Seulgi watches him eat in silence, perfectly motionless, so much that Jongdae almost forgets her presence, too busy savoring the explosion of stinging curry in his mouth. Almost only, because the two long blades she's wearing still make him wary.
“Thanks for telling Soojung about the attack in the warehouse,” Seulgi finally says, breaking the silence.
Jongdae raises an eyebrow at her, his chopsticks stopping midair.
“Did you get attacked?”
She shakes her head.
“But we could have been. That's why I'm thanking you. With Soojung by our side, we were almost sure to come back safe and sound if those eight Infected had found us.”
Jongdae nods, and when he looks down at the noodles swimming in the yellowish water, his stomach gives a jump of protest. He puts the cup away, wishing he hadn't eaten so much.
“What happened to you?” Seulgi finally asks, curious. Jongdae undertands that the question is partly why Seulgi came upstairs. “I mean, we found you in the bush, and it was like you had fallen from the roof but--”
“That's exactly what happened,” Jongdae nods. “I was trying to escape from the Infected, and I fell. It was stupid.”
Seulgi gives him a little smile.
“Luckily for you, we were there.”
Jondgae nods perfunctory. Yeah, luckily.
“Yeri probably told you about Jongin, right?” Seulgi's serious face cracks, letting amusement take over her soft features for a short second. “Of course she did. Jongin is her favorite topic.”
Jongdae slightly nods. The food feels dangerously heavy in his stomach, so he grabs one of the water bottles he got out of his bag, and gulps down two long mouthfuls of water. He winces as the lukewarm liquid fills his mouth, not as pleasant as the fresh water Seulgi brought him, but at least he doesn't feel like throwing up anymore.
“We're going to stay here for a while,” Seulgi explains. “Around a week, I guess. You're more than welcomed to stay with us.”
She's looking at him like she knows what he was plotting earlier, and her eyes, smart and penetrating, only leave his face to point at his arm.
“It'd be the best thing for you to do, or at least as long as your arm hurts,” she tells him, and this time, Jongdae is actually convinced she knows what he had in mind.
He crosses the stealing off his list, understanding that Seulgi will never let him wander through the house without supervision. He'll have to stick to the food they'll give him in the meanwhile and keep the little he has in his bag. He won't refill in the warehouse though, it's too dangerous alone and without both his arms at full capacity. There are plenty of houses in this side of the city, and it should do it.
Seulgi watches him for the longest moment, before sighing and shrugging.
“Okay,” she finally says. “I get it. You can't trust us.”
“Just like you don't really trust me,” Jongdae retorts, bitting, and it has Seulgi chuckling.
“I'm just being cautious,” she smiles. “We did save you though. And now we're giving you food and protection.”
Jongdae's blood turns into ice. He's been there countless of times before, and he knows what's about to come. He's navigated through enough groups to know how it works. The world has crumbled down, and mundane things like mutual aid have been so conveniently forgotten. Everything has a price, but people like Seulgi, people that are more powerful, usually take more than what they receive. It's exactly what has saved Jongdae all those months. He kowtows, lets them take everything they want until they think he's weak, and then takes delight in screwing them over. He hadn't expected Seulgi to be like that, but it's not that surprising, in the end.
“What do you want?” he asks through gritted teeth.
Seulgi's smile grows wider.
“I'll gladly keep doing that,” she says. “But in exchange, you'll have to apology to Yeri.”
It catches Jongdae off guard, and he stares at Seulgi, taken aback. Mirth is taking over her face as she struggles to refrain an amused chuckle, one that tells Jongdae she was aware of what he actually thought. He stutters, confused, and Seulgi chuckles, obviously delighted by her little joke.
“Okay,” she finally says with a long sigh, still grinning when she catches Jongdae's glare. She gives him a slight tap on the thigh and gets back on her feet. She looks down with another smile, one softer and sincere. “When you're done sulking, remember you're more than welcomed downstairs.”
“I'm not sulking,” Jongdae snaps back.
Seulgi raises an amused eyebrow at him, but she doesn't say anything. With a last smile, she turns on her heels, heading towards the door. Jongdae watches her, her long hair grazing her shoulder blades and the two katanas following the sway of her lips, and before he can't stop himself, he straightens, detaching his back from the wall.
“Thanks for the bag,” he calls her out.
Seulgi stops and looks over her shoulder.
“You're welcome,” she singsongs.
“Have you looked inside?” Jongdae asks, trying not to sound too accusing.
Seulgi doesn't seem to take offence, though. She looks midly confused as she frowns and shakes her head.
“Why?” she questions when Jongdae sighs, bitting down on his lips.
“There was someone else in the warehouse when I got attacked. A man with a bow. Something's missing from my bag, and I'm pretty sure he stole it.”
Seulgi completely turns over, her eyebrows deeply furrowed.
“Do you think he's still in town?”
Jongdae wordlessly nods. He likes the conclusions he reads in Seulgi's eyes. If he has to stay under her protection until they give him back his machete, at least he knows she won't lead him to his death. She's different from Jongin, she's actually aware of how dangerous it is out there.
“Okay,” Seulgi finally says. “We'll be extra careful.”
Jongdae nods. Seulgi turns over again, and crosses the remaining distance to the door without looking over her shoulder. It's only when she steps through the door that she raises a playful finger above her head, and joins with a chirping Apology!. Jongdae doesn't answer, but he does follow the sound of her footsteps downstairs. He's suddenly reminded of Jongin telling him with a proud voice how different his friends are, and unsurprisingly, Jongdae has no trouble picturing the look Jongin would throw at him right now, his eyebrows taking a playful curve, and the corner of his lips twitching with the need to smile.
“Yeah,” Jongdae grumbles. “Okay, you were right. They do sound pretty different.”
He grabs his bag and hugs it to his chest as he lies down. He doesn't feel like going downstairs right now, not with the sun falling lower and lower behind the horizon line, and the other residents of the house waking up one after the other. Instead, Jongdae stays there, with his legs spread on the carpeting, as motionless as he can, hoping that it will make sleep fetch him faster. He feels the tears prickling behind his eyelids, but he swallows them. It was the only thing to do if he wanted to survive, plus Jongin was hurt, he was bleeding. They would have never escaped from the Infected.
Does that help? asks the Jongin in his mind, with his long legs crossed before him, and his nasal voice letting out warm and soft intonations.
“Shut up,” Jongdae grumbles, and instead of thinking about Jongin's terrified sobs, he thinks about bow guy and wonders what the latter is doing with his blood.
Jongdae takes a first tentative step down the stairs. He stops and listens, on the lookout for the slighest noise. When nothing comes, he crouches down with his hand still on the banister rail, and glances through the bars. The sunlight coming through the cracks doesn't pierce the darkness ruling over the house, but it's just enough for Jongdae to see the steps, which he is grateful for.
After a few seconds, he comes to the conclusion that nothing is moving downstairs, so he tiptoes his way down the stairs. He winces when his stomach grumbles, and rubs his belly to try and ease the heavy feeling of hunger. He slept throughout the night, and was expecting a new portion of food when he woke up, but no one came. Obviously, his decision to stay upstairs crumbled down with the hours passing by and the hunger chewing on his insides. With the food inside his bag strictly prohibited, Jongdae had no other choice than to come out of his lair. It doesn't mean he has to obey Seulgi and apology though, and he's stubborn enough to actually try to avoid her-and Yeri. At least, he's slept more than he never has in a year, and he feels fully rested, ready to jump in the darkness at the slightest sound. Jongdae is really confident in his chances, grabbing something from Seulgi's stack of food can't be that hard, especially with the household fast asleep.
The carpet at the foot of the stairs muffles his last step, and still holding the banister rail, Jongdae bends down, sticking just the top of his head out of the corner of the wall to check the living room. He catches a few bodies lying here and there, all wrapped in their blankets, and the slow breathings he can hear assure him that they're all asleep. His stomach grumbles in joy, and Jongdae straightens up, already salivating. Jongdae: 1. Seulgi: 0.
He tiptoes across the hallway, and just when he's about to enter the room where he knows they've piled up their loot, Jongdae hears a muffled noise coming from the kitchen. He freezes, but the sound, wet, shaky and sniffling, quickly proves to be harmless. Jongdae hesitates for a short second, but curiosity takes the best of him, and he turns around, straight to the kitchen.
He finds Yeri sitting cross-legged on the floor, the table and chairs having been pushed back against the back door. She raises red and swollen eyes at him, her fists clenched and pressed against her chest. The strong smell of lavender hits Jongdae's nose, and he winces, noticing the bottle of lavender oil opened next to the younger girl. She sniffs while looking at him, her face a mix of distress and pride.
“I'm okay,” she says with defiance, but her voice breaks around her last intonations.
Jongdae's heart swells at how small and fragile she looks with her red nose and her shivering body. She glares at him, preventing any mockings Jongdae could throw her way, as if he would. The aggressiveness she's trying to showcase is weak, crumbling down with every little jerk of her shaking lips, but Yeri holds on, her dark eyes boring into Jongdae's. The latter feels his own resolve break, and he mentally sweeps it away, as well as his hunger.
“Hey,” Jongdae says soflty. “What's wrong?”
He slowly crouches down, and Yeri's face falls as she whimpers, slightly curling on herself.
“It's just-it burns so much.”
She starts sobbing, her whole body snapping with her, and it's a terrible thing to witness. She brings her knees up against her chest and buries her head between her arms. Her back is shaking and she presses her palms against the top of her head so hard that the veins start popping up, breaking the delicate monotony of her milky skin with harsh blue. Jongdae's eyes follow her long fingers as they spread into thin air like claws seeking for a hold, and he's hit by another wave of lavender. He frowns, shifting closer to examine Yeri's fingertips, only noticing then that she's bitten all her nails down to the quick. Jongdae's heart jolts when he catches sight of the raw skin, and he throws a nervous glance at the back door. Yeri's fingers are shining with all the lavender oil she splattered on them, but Jongdae still has trouble believing that the bucolic smell can really keep the Infected at bay. They would already be there though, so he tries not to panic. His eyes navigate down to Yeri's waist, where her knife is resting, just in case.
“Jongin stops me when he sees me bitting my nails,” Yeri sobs. “But Jongin isn't there.” She clenches her fists and grits her teeth. “It fucking burns!”
Jongdae grabs her wrists, and starts blowing on her fingers. She looks up, surprised. Jongdae pushes her right hand towards her face, fingers still tightly secured around the other.
“Take that one,” he tells her. “I'll take care of the other.”
Knowing perfectly well that Yeri's eyes are still on him, Jongdae takes a long inhalation, until he feels like his lungs are about to explode, and finally breathes out on her fingers, blowing up his cheeks as much as he can. It seems to do the trick, because he hears Yeri chuckling not a second after. She wiggles her fingers and shows him her right hand. Jongdae raises an eyebrow at her, and shakes his head.
“Your turn to be ridiculous,” he says.
Yeri gives him a faint smile, and brings her fingers up to her lips. She breathes in, then out on the wounded skin, her eyes closing with her exhalation. The few droplets of water that were caught by her naturally curled lashes land on her cheekbones and slide down to her jawline, and Jongdae's fingers itch with the need to wipe them away.
“Does it help?” he finally asks.
Yeri gives him a slight shrug for an answer, but she keeps blowing on her hands. Jondgae grabs the bottle of lavender oil, and puts the cap back on it under her piercing eyes. He hesitates for a short moment, and finally sits down next to her. She's lost her defensive behaviour, and Jongdae takes it as a small victory.
After a while, Yeri finally stops blowing on her fingers. Jongdae catches her glancing down with envy at her shirt, probably wanting to wipe her fingers on the dirty fabric, but she never does. Instead, she puts her hands flat on her thighs, her legs streched out before her, and she eyes her nails warily. She's so young, he realises now that he's finally looking at her without trying to run away. Jongin already looked so young, so out of place, but he had his height and the muscles rolling under his shirt to shield him from the world. Yeri has nothing, aside from the few people travelling with her. She's skinny -they all are-, pale and covered with dust, she hasn't losen all of her baby fat yet, and the nail-bitting induced pain makes her bite her lips. Jongdae is hit by another wave of guilt. He has no trouble picturing Jongin's long arms wrapped around Yeri's small figure, his slender fingers keeping Yeri's away from her teeth, and his sweet warm voice even keeping her away from the anxiety behind the need to bite her nails.
“My mom used to say it was a very bad habit, and that I would regret it eventually, but I think she was mostly talking about my feminity,” Yeri says after a few moments of silence. She snorts to herself, looking up to meet Jongdae's eyes. “She'd be so pleased to know she was right, even though the problem isn't finding myself a nice husband, but actually surviving. She was kind of a bitch.”
“My mom was nice,” Jongdae confesses. “She made the most delicious soup ever.”
Yeri chuckles, and lightly shakes her head. Jongdae's mom was nice, with him, his dad, his brother, his friends that she loved sometimes more than him. She was a lot of things, but she wasn't immune, and twenty four hours after the winds that had blown on the Mist still covering hundreds of miles hit Daejeon, she stopped being nice. There's something surreal in the panic of those days, because it all seems so distant when it was only a year ago. The world has changed so fast.
Jongdae blinks, breaking out of his reverie, and his eyes settle on Yeri's face again. She looks as lost in her thoughts as he was. He wonders what she's thinking about. (He shouldn't.)
“Look, I'm... I'm sorry for earlier,” he grumbles clumsily.
Yeri blinks at him, and it takes her a long second to remember what he's talking about. Her eyes widen, and her eyebrows go up, but the expected smile is quick to follow, and the dimple finally pops up on her face. Jongdae still thinks the apologies were useless, and probably uncalled for, but seeing how satisfied Yeri is looking right now is almost worthy.
“I know you think it's ridiculous,” Yeri says. “But my mom, although bitchy, was a good mom. And then one day she comes in my bedroom and tries to eat me. There are so many of us gone with so much of what we were. I think we should keep what's left, before it gets ripped away from us too.”
Jongdae watches her. He's heard that story a billion of times already. Immunity against the Misty Virus isn't genetic, obviously, and they all lost their families. Jongdae's parents were using their heads to try and break the door that kept him and Jongdeok, his older brother, safe. He remembers that guy, from one of the groups he stole, telling how his six year old sister broke her teeth biting on the car's door while he was trying to start the engine. Yeri's story is saddly unoriginal, but it still hits Jongdae with images of a terrified Yeri being dragged out of her bed in the middle of the night, her mother's perfectly painted nails digging in her ankle. It's one of the things Jongin did, and that Jongdae shouldn't have let him do. Make him care like that. The issue would have been the same, but at least Jongdae wouldn't have been left chasing pieces of Jongin in the eyes of a girl, with the same tendency to care about the past when it's been buried under layers of dust.
"I can help you with the nail biting if you want," he says, gesturing to her hands.
She snorts, as if the mere idea of Jongdae actually helping her is hilarious, and Jongdae frowns.
"What?"
"I'm sorry oppa, but you don't really hit me as the caring type. I can picture you punching me in the face everytime I'd try to bite my nails so well."
"Nonsense," Jongdae retorts. "How did Jongin do?"
Yeri's features soften, and her eyes glitter with glee. She and Jongin are so look alike, Jongdae would easily call them soulmates if it wasn't so cruel for Yeri, but he can't refute the heavy sense of deja vu flooding him.
"Well," she finally says. "Jongin used to hold my hands, and talk me through the need."
"Okay," Jongdae eagerly nods before he can even register what he's agreeing to, and when Yeri's word finally catch up with him, he freezes. She chuckles, pressing her palm over her mouth to try and muffle the sound. Jongdae can't help but find it so pretty, how with a single gesture, Yeri manages to remind him of the danger outside. They're hidden in a house, but it's still the middle of the day, and Infected could be strolling on the lawn right now. It doesn't look dangerous though, when it's Yeri's hand curling on her mouth, her fingers still so graceful despite the raw skin framing her short nails, just like it didn't look deadly at all when it was Jongin's dancing gait and stargazing sessions. It wasn't that pretty in the end though.
"Come on, turn around," she finally asks him, an amused dimpled smile still perched on her lips. "I'll apply some oil on your back, just in case the scabs fall too soon."
Jongdae obliges, his hunger long forgotten in favor of a just as overwhelming thought. He really can't see how Yeri could end differently than Jongin.
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