Daehyun was lying on his bed, his bed back in Busan. His parents were as expected disappointed that he couldn’t even live through the thing he was so determined to do. As expected his father had beaten him till he was bruised all over and he slumped over to his bedroom to his wounds. But something happened whilst he was being beaten to a pulp; he realized he could feel something other than disappointment. He could still feel pain.

He held his forearm in front of him and trailed a finger along the smooth delicate surface. It would have been easy for him to grab a pair of scissors from the bathroom. It would have been easy for him to summon up the feeling of pain at will. That agony would be something he wouldn’t exactly rejoice over but it was something he could feel. That was what he wanted after all, to feel something besides the feeling of disappointing Youngjae.

He rolled off the bed and wondered over to the bathroom a little shaky on his feet. He could hear his father laughing at something on the TV whilst his mother was cooking some sort of dinner downstairs. Since both of his parents were busy he decided to make use of the opportunity. It wasn’t as if his parents would stop him from harming himself, after all they were fully aware of the marks on his body but they wouldn’t like the fact that he was going to ruin their pristine bathroom. But Daehyun didn’t care; he just wanted to feel something, something he could control for once.

Daehyun locked himself in the bathroom and took a quick glance of himself in the mirror. He still looked the same as before but he lacked something in his eyes. He lacked a soul.

He peeled off his shirt since he didn’t want to drip blood all over it and tossed it aside. Daehyun grabbed the pair of scissors from the drawer and held it onto the baby smooth surface of skin. All he needed to do was push down and drag it across his flesh. Then he could finally feel something at last.

Just as he applied a little pressure on the blade he caught a glimpse of a fading scar across his abdomen through the reflection of the blade. Daehyun trailed a finger along his ghostly mark.

“You know what I see Daehyun?” a memory of Youngjae’s voice whispered in Daehyun’s head, “I see a warrior. I see someone who doesn’t run away. I see a fighter and this,” Daehyun trailed his own finger over a faded scar, “Is just evidence showing how strong you really are.”

Daehyun threw the scissors away and sat himself on the cold tiled floor. He ran his hands through his hair and began pulling at it when he got a good handful. An animalistic whine escaped his lips as he hid his face between his knees and began to sob violently. Youngjae had done so much for him, helped him grow so much but in the end when he lost him, he couldn’t take it anymore. Daehyun had become self-destructive and undid everything that Youngjae had so painstakingly nurtured.

He didn’t know how long he stayed on the bathroom floor for but he eventually sat up when he began shivering. His slipped his shirt back on and wondered back over to his bedroom, feeling worse than what he was before.

Being back at Busan was probably doing more harm to Daehyun than anything else. Every time he walked outside he could smell the saltiness of the sea which would only remind him of what Youngae missed out.

I’ve always wanted to go to the beaches there.

He had looked forward to visiting Daehyun at Busan when he was finally healed but that wasn’t going to happen. All of Youngjae’s hopes and dreams vanished into nothing. They were just words, words that he probably formed to protect Daehyun from worrying about him when in the end they were doing to exact opposite.

Daehyun grabbed his phone and began staring at the reflection of his eyes. After everything he found himself searching his eyes more and more frequently. Eyes are the window to someone’s soul. So I figured that’d be the most beautiful part for every person, Youngjae had once told him so it became his obsession. He so desperately wanted to see that lively spirit he once had but the more he searched the more he wondered if it was well and truly gone forever.

As Daehyun continued to stare into his phone’s reflection it vibrated as an unknown number flashed across the screen. He looked upon it in confusion as his phone continued to ring in his hand.

“Hello?” Daehyun answered with his voice sounding more raw and exposed than he would have liked.

“I swear I should just get a job as a spy or an FBI agent or something. Do you know how hard it is to track you down?” Himchan’s voice growled back in his usual roughness.

“Himchan?” was all Daehyun said back.

“Damn straight,” he barked confidently, “I had to call 7 people before I managed to find someone who had your number. Why don’t any of the other trainees have phones? It would have been easier if I just asked some of the trainees who had your number to just give it to me but no one has a phone.”

“Yeah, almost everyone handed their phones in when they signed up. You don’t have to but some people think it’s a distraction,” Daehyun explained sounding melancholic.

“Oh, well it just makes tracking you a whole lot more difficult. Anyway I was helping Youngjae’s parents clear out his room…since neither of them had the heart to… but I found some stuff and I think you should have it.”

“Okay.”

There was a long silence between the two.

“…So I know I said I should work with the FBI and stuff because I managed to get your number but it would be really helpful if you could tell me or sent me your address so I can actually mail this out to you.”

“Yeah, I’ll message you my address so you can send the stuff over.”

There was another moment of silence between the two before Himchan managed to ask, “Are you okay Daehyun?”

“I’m … surviving.”