Krystal was not expecting to come home to a man she’s never seen before bleeding out in her bathroom.

It was the examination period at her university, and she had just finished a paper and was heading back to the dorm. She was humming a song and twirling her jet black hair as she unlocked the door of her dorm room—a small, individual studio apartment—dropping her backpack on the floor and turning the lights on as she went.

Just as she passed the bathroom however, red in her peripheral caused her to turn, but it could not have prepared her for the sight she was greeted with.

“Oh my God!”

There was a blonde man lying on the floor of her bathroom, one hand clutching at his stomach while another was clenched into a fist. That wasn’t as much of a problem, however, as the blood, blood, blood everywhere, leaking from what seemed like bullet holes in his body. The sight was infinitely more morbid as he was dressed in all white—white turtleneck and white pants that were being dyed red. He forced his eyes opened at her scream, squinting at her.

He spluttered blood. “You’re—you’re not Lay.”

Her jaw dropped, and her heartbeat escalating. “Who are you?! How did you get in here?!”

“I—” he gasped, coughing out more blood and making her wince. “I teleported.”

She blinked. “Teleported. You tele—okay what the hell?”

He gasped again, spasming on the bathroom floor, and she hurried over, kneeling by him with hands hovering around his body uncertainly.

“I, um, I don’t really know what to do, I—I don’t know first aid or anything—”

“Lay.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Call—” he grimaced. “Call Lay.” He burst into another coughing fit, and Krystal squealed as she grabbed a towel and began to press it against one of the open wounds she could see.

“Who is Lay?!”

“Yixing,” he rasped, his eyes going unfocused. “Zhang Yixing.”

“Hey, stay with me!” She panicked, trying to shake him awake. He coughed again before he abruptly slackened, completely losing consciousness.

She cursed loudly, trying to stop herself from freaking out as her mind finally registered what he said. Dropping the towel, she quickly dug through her bag for her cellphone, shaky fingers already scrolling through her contacts.

Zhang Yixing.

Zhang Yixing was her neighbour in the room opposite hers, and one of her closest friends in university. He had black hair and the cutest dimple ever, which seemed to attract significant female attention.

Quickly finding the number, she dialed it. She held the phone in between her shoulder and ear, before grabbing the unconscious man by the back of his shirt and pulling him into the shower. Just as the call went through she turned the tap on and jumped out of the way.

“Hey Kr—”

“What the , Yixing?!”

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to start a conversation,” Yixing replied in his soft voice, sounding a little offended.

Krystal squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing a finger against her temple.

“Are you showering? What’s with the water in the background?”

She turned at looked at the source of her problems, lying unconscious in the shower, the blood washing off into the drain. “I’m not taking a shower, someone else is.”

“O...kay…?”

“I dragged him into the shower to wash away the blood,” she stated, her voice monotonous. It was silent on Yixing’s end for a moment.

“...I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“Okay,” she took a deep breath. “Listen, Zhang Yixing. There’s a man bleeding out on my bathroom floor and he said to call for you.”

“Right… I don’t think your prank’s working, Krystal.”

“I’m serious! You need to come over right now.

“I have to study—”

“—Oh wait, he… he called you a strange name? Um, it was—”

Yixing’s tone was suddenly serious. “Was what?”

“Lay.”

-

It took Yixing less than 10 minutes to show up at her door, which meant he must’ve been sprinting, if his harsh panting was any indication. His normally calm demeanour was replaced with a dark expression and urgent body language, as he immediately pushed past her once she opened the door and made a beeline for the bathroom, kneeling by the still-bleeding, still-unconscious stranger.

Krystal shuffled after him, her own hands bloody as she’d tried multiple times to stop his bleeding with towels.

“Kai,” Yixing breathed, brushing the male’s blonde hair out of his face. “Kai, can you hear me?”

Krystal stood by the side, eyes wide, her mind completely blank.

The man—Kai, she assumed—groaned a little, but made no move to open his eyes. Yixing cursed under his breath, reaching up to turn the tap off. He gave Krystal a quick glance.

“I promise I’ll explain everything later,” he said, his hands hovering over Kai’s body.

“Explain wha—oh my God!”

Her jaw dropped as she watched a soft white glow appear on Yixing’s hands, and he began to put them over Kai’s wounds. The sound of metal clinking against the floor caught her attention, and she hesitantly moved over, only to be surprised as she saw that it was a bull