“All is well,” the nurse told him once she came back to the room with his results and then faced Donghae with a smile on her face. “Any nausea? Headache? Other things you want to tell me about?”

The guy shook his head and wondered whether there really were all the same questions about his condition or it’s just because a different nurse met him and asked something he already talked about. He… wasn’t sure how the recovery should be going when you rise from dead and it still was a new area of research, so not like he found many papers or articles about it on Internet. Trust him, he tried.

He regretted his decision the moment he read the paper about someone whose ‘healing’ didn’t go well. First there were a few dark spots on the person’s body that soon were identified as cadaveric spots. The paper didn’t tell whether there were some before ‘rebirth’ (that’s how they called rising from dead there) or they appeared after, but those spots caused infection and other bad things Donghae had no idea about (biology never was his virtue) and the person died for the second time.

For the second time. He suddenly wondered whether people will be less sad when he’ll die again, simply because technically… he was dead for almost a month already.

“Heard about your memory loss when it comes to… the incident of death,” the nurse spoke, trying to choose words as carefully as she could. “No need trying to remember it, just tell me: did you notice some other failures in how your brain works? Something like you’re slow or indecisive?”

“My head hurts from thinking too much,” Donghae replied honestly. “Sometimes I forget something for a second, yet I recall it the next moment. I feel silly because of it. Also… sometimes I’m slow, yes.”

The girl in front of him nodded and typed on the tablet she’s been holding in her hands this whole time.

“How about your sleep?” she wondered.

“I barely sleep.”

“Oh,” the nurse looked at him in a worry. “Do you just… you can’t fall asleep or?”

“I can’t stop thinking. About everything. About… what I’ve become.”

Her gaze softened, although there still was a worry in it when the girl spoke, “You’re not what, you’re who. I know it’s a lot to take, but try to not think about it much, will you?”

Easier said than done. Donghae wished he could forget, but it seemed that everyone and everything wanted to remind him that he wasn’t totally alive anymore.

No one was talking to him apart from Jaechan and Wheesung. Like… literally no one. Maybe Hyukjae could, but Donghae was a bit shy to approach him because he didn’t want the guy to think he takes his kindness for granted and tries to stick to him as Hyukjae seemed to be the only person willing to tolerate him in their class. Again, there were a few more who didn’t care, but they literally didn’t care. They didn’t really want to talk to him and simply barely noticed he existed. So he only had Jaechan and Wheesung.

Although he felt like they were distancing themselves from him as well.

There was that day when they were sitting together; all silent because that’s how they’ve been sitting in three ever since. Every time Donghae entered the classroom and saw Jaechan and Wheesung, they were chatting eagerly. However, when he was with them… they didn’t say anything. Like, at all. Neither good nor bad words. They mostly were silent with short and random convos.

One day Donghae decided to ask, “Guys, do you remember something about my birthday?”

Wheesung, who was playing a game, froze and Jaechan who kept watching him looked at Donghae, “Like… what?”

Donghae looked at them. He remembered that Wheesung hated playing at his desk because he was very tall, so he always complained his legs couldn’t find a nice position and it kept distracting him from a game. But both Jaechan and Donghae were shorties – Jaechan was even shorter than Donghae – so they only could watch him playing if he was sitting, so he kept doing that for them. That’s why his fellow short friend was standing beside the window, hands hidden in his pockets, and seemed to tense significantly when the guy asked them that question.

“Nothing in particular,” he shrugged. “Maybe something about when we parted? I don’t really remember what happened later…” His headache was back the moment he talked about it, but Donghae tried to ignore that unnecessary feeling. “But I remember there were two guys following me, I don’t remember whether they appeared after I left the bus stop or after we…”

“You think we’d just let you go if we saw someone suspicious?!” Wheesung raised his voice, however, it sounded rather low – way deeper than the way he usually spoke. He wasn’t looking at anyone; eyes still locked on his phone where he lost the game already. “We’d never let you go if we knew it was dangerous.”

Donghae’s eyes widened and he whispered, “No one said you would…”

But Wheesung looked at him and his expression made the guy stop talking. Donghae even felt like he’d never be able to talk again when his friend hissed, “We never wanted you to be dead and we have nothing to do with it.”

After saying this, he got up and left the class. Probably to cool down. Donghae wanted to ask or maybe to say something, but words were stuck in his throat.

He knew Wheesung. He wasn’t the kind to just argue with everyone, that’s why him snapping felt kind of surreal. And his words…

Donghae didn’t mean any of that. He only wanted to know whether they saw the guys or something… Because those who did that to Donghae weren’t caught. So him being unable to remember how he died… also meant that they’ll be walking around freely some time more, and that was dangerous. He didn’t want to recall the moment of his own death, trust him that he’d prefer to never think about it even, but… when he saw the disappointed expressions of the policemen who came to talk to him again and he couldn’t give them any hint still… He decided that he had to try at least. He was dead already, kind of. And if he could save someone from this, he really had to go through the painful memories.

But he didn’t mean that Wheesung and Jaechan were at fault, that literally was not what he implied, he only wanted them to help him. But…

Donghae’s been thinking about it for a while. He didn’t dare to ask, but he assumed that apparently, his parents and friends could feel guilty because of what happened. They weren’t, but Donghae just knew he would feel guilty if he was them.

Although it was just the guy being stubborn, maybe his parents thought it wouldn’t have happened if they were strict enough to make him go home earlier or at least came to pick him up. His friends too… Maybe they thought that if only they didn’t insist on staying there longer and agreed with Donghae’s parents when they requested for their son to go home, it wouldn’t have happened. Looked like… part of the reason why they were so awkward with each other was just the fact that Wheesung and Jaechan felt guilty for what happened to Donghae.

He wanted to tell them it wasn’t their fault. But not like he was given a chance.

“Donghae, can we not talk about… your death?” the guy heard Jaechan saying once Wheesung left the room. “Please, let’s not talk about it ever again. That’s… a sensitive topic.”

He looked at his friend and almost felt like someone hit him when he saw Jaechan, the guy who had one of the most radiant smiles out of all people he knew, looking absolutely hurt. He didn’t say anything.

“I’ll go and check whether he’s fine,” his friend said and left him as well.

Somehow, it felt like they left him for real and forever.

See? How could he even tell them it wasn’t their fault when they never gave him a chance to speak? Donghae understood how they felt. He truly did, and if only they asked – he’d definitely tell them it wasn’t their fault! He was just stupid and reckless; if someone was at fault then it was him or those guys who killed him… Not them. He really wanted to tell them it wasn’t their fault.

But they didn’t listen. And that hurt. Just like it was irritating.

He was the one who died. He was suffering with the consequences and trying to withstand all the weird looks he’s been receiving every day – now even from students that weren’t in his class because the rumors kept spreading. Why was he trying to understand everyone, yet there were no people to understand him? He was hurt, too. He didn’t want it.

And also…

Also…

Donghae pursed his lips, feeling a sudden urge to cry. The guy clenched his fists, thinking that he had absolutely no rights to cry, especially now. He couldn’t just show his weakness in front of everyone, he didn’t know what they’ll think. But…

But he was alive. And he was so sick of everyone treating him as if he was dead still. Nurses, teachers, classmates. Now his friends. They felt guilty, okay he got it, but damn, he was alive! He wasn’t a dead Donghae anymore! What happened to him was awful, but the way everyone kept talking about his death simply made him go insane.

He was alive. Alive. He wasn’t a zombie like some of his classmates thought. He was Donghae, the same Donghae… With bruises, stitches, with a mental trauma that probably won’t disappear until his actual and eternal death, but…

He was alive.

And he absolutely hated the fact that everyone was treating him as if he wasn’t.

The guy decided to look around, mostly to distract himself and let his mind rest. He didn’t expect anyone could be looking at him – at least he hoped no one would – so Donghae almost gasped when he noticed Hyukjae’s gaze on him. He froze and looked at the guy who’s been sitting in a rather relaxed pose with his back leaning on the chair and legs on the desk, however… the guy said nothing.

Hyukjae only tilted his head as if asking whether Donghae had something to say. As if it was the latter who started looking at him first…

Donghae shook his head and managed to smile with one corner of his lips. His classmate didn’t react and looked at the phone he was holding in his hand.

And that was about it. Donghae wondered whether Hyukjae will try to interact with him or ask about something, but apparently, he was being dramatic assuming that could happen to them. Because the guy didn’t approach him.

What about his friends… they tried to pretend nothing happened. And if ‘pretending that nothing happened’ used to be them chatting comfortably before Donghae’s death happened, it became them simply not talking at all this time.

And that didn’t help him as well. Like he told the nurse, Donghae couldn’t stop thinking. And his thoughts weren’t the brightest ones. It felt like he was dwelling in something dark, and the longer he kept living like this, the worse he felt.

His normal life was taken. Here he was, alive and able to do everything he was doing before, but his mental state was so low that it was hard to describe. The longer he was staying in such environment, the more it was taking a toll on him. There were short periods when he even managed to feel something nice – when his mom cooked his favorite meal, when he defeated the boss in the game he liked to play, when Hyukjae made him smile.

But those moments were like stars in the night sky. Just a few bright dots in the absolute darkness he now had to live in.

He felt like telling the nurse about this wasn’t a good decision; she could misinterpret it. However, even though he didn’t tell her what was happening to him at school, the nurse seemed to understand. She leaned forward, so now her elbows were resting on her knees, and asked quietly, yet seriously, “Donghae,