For painful--doubleyou. Thank you for cheering me on, and always being there for me when I'm hard on myself about my writing. You really don't know how much I appreciate it.

WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH
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When Kibum woke up in the hospital, he was alone. It was roughly 6 am, judging from the lightening sky outside. He pushed the button for the nurse on his bed and she came in looking a little harried.

    “Oh, Mr. Kim. We weren’t expecting you to be awake so soon. That’s a good thing, though, so don’t worry,” she chuckled breathlessly. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake so he can give you the specifics of the operation.” She left quickly, and Kibum smiled slightly. It was refreshing to see such energy in someone.

It was roughly 10 minutes later when the doctor, a bald beak-nosed man, walked in and droned on in a boring voice.

    “Your operation was a complete success. We were lucky to get you in surgery when we did, Mr. Kim. One of your broken ribs had punched a hole in your left lung, and the area was slowly filling with blood. That may be why you initially reported having trouble breathing after the accident.” The doctor went on to say that his left tibia had snapped in half completely, and that there had been some bits of shrapnel that would be forever embedded in his shoulder. In total, he had 3 broken ribs and a couple of his major organs had been bruised.

By the time the doctor left, Kibum was properly humbled by the fact that he was still alive. After all, the accident had been a serious one. Possibly fatal.

~~

Kibum hadn’t had a single visitor in the time he was in the hospital. He tried to be cheerful and flirty with his nurses, but each day that went by and no one came to visit.. It got harder to act like he was happy. The mask got heavier.

He had at least hoped that his grandmother might visit. She always made the time of day to see him or talk to him, but so far.. She hadn’t called once.

And Minho. .. It hurt Kibum deeply to think about Minho. Was he even alright? Was someone making sure he didn’t beat himself up over something that wasn’t his fault? Were they making sure he ate properly? He didn’t know, and it was killing him, but it wasn’t like he could just pick up the phone and call Minho to ask. He wasn’t even sure Minho would answer the call.

He got up and walked as much as his nurse would allow, trying to gain his muscle tone (little of it that he’d had, anyway) back.

It was 2 weeks later when they finally discharged him, and he sighed with decidedly immense relief. The cast on his leg was thick and heavy, but it was manageable. He would have to wear loose-fitting pants for a while, it seemed.

He went back to his apartment, and it felt… empty. Like someone had scooped out all the previous life and warmth that it had once enjoyed. He set his keys down, and upended the box of belongings that had been left for him downstairs with his landlord on the kitchen table. His jacket, a pair of sunglasses he’d been wearing, and finally, his phone. He snatched his phone up quickly and scrolled through his texts.

He almost felt nauseous with hope. The list filled with all kinds of people’s names (including his grandma, he was relieved to see). But Minho.. his name wasn’t one of them. Kibum frowned, and he closed his eyes against the sudden hot tears that wanted to escape.

Why was it that Minho insisted on being this way? Didn’t he realize that it only made Kibum feel like the whole thing was his fault?

~~

Kibum saw Minho on the street exactly 3 days after he’d gotten out of the hospital. Even from where he was standing, Kibum could see that Minho hadn’t done well in the past month. He had tell-tale dark smudges underneath his eyes, and he was alarmingly skinny. He put a hand to his mouth in an attempt to stifle a loud sob.

Unfortunately, Minho heard the noise and turned his head. Kibum’s eyes met Minho’s anguished, surprised ones and Minho turned away forcefully. He ran (or hobbled, rather) as fast as he could manage towards Minho, and held on to him tightly from the back.

    “Minho, why didn’t you visit me?” Kibum hugged him impossibly tighter. “I n-needed you.” Minho stood stock still, muscles tensed and rigidly in place. He didn’t turn around, as Kibum desperately hoped he would.

    “No,” Minho’s voice was so cold that Kibum flinched a little. “You need to leave, Kibum.” Minho forcefully removed Kibum’s hands from his body.

Kibum cried harder at the harsh way Minho treated him, oblivious of the people around him and Minho. He felt so awful after Minho’s words. Pain whorled and whirled in his heart, sending out pulses of pain to the rest of his body.

He took a step back, the sound of his heart ripping to shreds almost audible. His tears fell endlessly, scorching trails onto his cheeks. He looked up at Minho’s face. He saw nothing there, not even sympathy.

    “Okay,” he looked down and his shoulders slumped. He turned and walked back to his apartment building, not noticing the people on the way who gave him pity-filled glances.

Not noticing the agony on Minho’s face, suddenly turned extremely expressive.

~~

He still saw Minho occasionally, and it hurt like someone was stabbing him in the chest. It never got better. Not in a few weeks. Not in a couple of months. Not in a year. It was still a raw, bleeding wound ripped open every single time.

Minho treated him with cold indifference, almost bordering on politeness. He was never as harsh as the first time.

And it was infinitely more painful to Kibum. He and Minho had known each other their entire lives, and for Minho to act like a stranger (like he did now) felt to Kibum like he was throwing away everything they’d ever had.

Kibum began to wonder if maybe.. everything was his fault. He’d been the one to start the yelling, and he’d been the one to run out… He’d been the one stupid enough to stumble into the street. Eventually, Kibum came to accept that the accident was his fault, readily taking the blame if that was what had upset Minho.

The next time he saw Minho in the street (since it was the only way he saw the younger man nowadays, and Kibum came to accept that as well), he stopped Minho as he always did.

    “I’m sorry, Minho,” it was like Minho always managed to bring out his tears, without even trying. “I’m sorry for being s-such a screw-up. I didn’t mean to cause the accident, I swear. How can I make amends? Please, tell me. I want my best friend back,” Kibum begged, and Minho’s resolve to stay away buckled heavily at the sight of Kibum.

It was crystal clear that Kibum wasn’t taking care of himself properly. His skin was full of unsightly blemishes, and he looked like he’d dropped at least 2 clothing sizes (when he’d never been that big to begin with). Minho shook his head, firming his resolve once more.

    “Kibum, no.. I..-I really don’t have time for this,” Minho sighed irritatedly and rubbed his temples, missing the way Kibum flinched as if he’d been burned. “I’ve got to get to work.” Kibum clasped his hands together, and the faint hope Minho saw in Kibum’s eyes broke his heart.

    “Well.. Will you at least take my offer for dinner? You don’t look like you’ve been eating well,” Minho wanted to cry. Kibum looked so broken standing there, like he was expecting Minho to reject him, and yet he’d offered anyway. It only made things harder that Kibum clearly still worried and cared enough about Minho to notice that he was faring only a little better than himself.

It was too much for Minho to take, and he shook his head quickly, feeling shame and guilt weigh him down like an anchor. He didn’t dare look up to see the expression on Kibum’s face (and it was a good thing he hadn’t, because Kibum’s permanently drooped shoulders slumped even further while his eyes darkened with all the self-directed anger and pain he felt).

    “Okay,” Kibum mumbled dully and walked away, all without Minho even seeing it. His shoes were suddenly very interesting.

~~

The fight started as soon as Minho got home smelling like a bar. Yeah, he knew how Kibum felt about drinking, and he knew that Kibum had worried, blah blah blah blah blah…

“Yes mother,” Minho bit out sarcastically, and Kibum turned lethally quiet. He stared at Minho levelly, blankly. It scared Minho so much more than Kibum’s loud ranting and waving.

“If you feel that way, then maybe I should just leave for a little while,” Kibum’s tone was icy, and Minho’s stomach dropped. It didn’t sound anything like Kibum.

Kibum slammed the door before Minho could even get himself in action, and by the time he was outside, Kibum was just getting to the crossing. He ran to catch up, and grabbed Kibum by the arm.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it,” Kibum wrenched his arm out of Minho’s grasp and walked on, like he hadn’t heard a single word. “Kibum! I’m talking!” Kibum whirled.

“Don’t apologize if you don’t mean it!” he screamed, and punched Minho in the face. In a knee-jerk reaction, Minho let go of Kibum’s arm and shoved him away.

Kibum stumbled backwards… right onto an incoming car.

~~

Kibum knew that the rest of his friends and family were furious with Minho and the way he was acting, but he always tried to justify it. He defended Minho from every one of his family members, and had even stopped his cousin Jonghyun from beating the out of Minho a couple of times.

He didn’t get why other people couldn’t see that the accident had been his fault. He had accepted it as fact, so why didn’t other people?

They said it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was an accident. That’s why it’s called an accident. He ached, and wished that he and Minho both really believed that.

~~

Minho wished that he could undo all the damage to Kibum. That he could take it all on himself. It would be better for him to deal with it, because Kibum didn’t deserve any of it.

He downed a shot of vodka and coughed til his eyes watered. He was no stranger to drinking, but vodka was one of his least favorite kinds of alcohol.  He took a sip of coke to wash the taste out of his mouth, before turning to the pretty thing in his arms. His name was Taemin, and he was manly in a boyish kind of way.

He was handsome enough, anyway, but all that seemed to do was make things worse. Minho couldn’t keep Kibum off his mind. Kibum was constantly in his thoughts. Especially lately. His mind instantly played the most recent meeting in his head.

Kibum was starting to look ghastly. His skin was milky pale, like he hardly went outside. His dark circles had gotten even worse, and his whole face was gaunt. The skin was stretched too thin over sharp facial features, and it hurt Minho to know that he was the cause.

Taemin tapped him on the shoulder, and Minho smiled weakly. He knew he didn’t look any better than Kibum, but he at least tried to hide it. It was like Kibum had.. given up.

The thought scared Minho.

    “You’re so spacey tonight, Minho.. Should I be jealous?” Taemin was teasing, but Minho felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

    “No,” he managed a strained smile, and laughed a little too fakely. “All the same, I think I should go. I’m not feeling well.” It wasn’t a lie, really. He did feel like he was going to throw up.

    “Oh.. Are you sure you don’t need an ? You look kinda pale…,” Taemin’s concern felt like poison in his veins. Minho didn’t deserve concern. He was an , and a remarkably idiotic -up.

    “I’ll be fine to get home, I promise,” he patted Taemin on the shoulder. “It was nice seeing you, Taemin.” He wobbled unsteadily, the alcohol buzzing his system. Instead of feeling elated as alcohol tended to make people feel, he felt once again like an anchor. Dragging down, down, always down. He stopped at a corner, waiting to cross the road.

He saw the signal change from Don’t walk to Walk and started walking across. All he heard was the sound of a horn and then the sickening crunch of bones before everything went dark.

~~

When he heard the news, Kibum shrieked like a banshee. He pounded his fists on his walls, tearing his room apart with all the force of a tiny tornado.

He screamed obscenities, and cried scorching tears that burned his cheeks.

    “You ing !” Kibum yelled into the empty space. “I ing hate you, Minho, I swear to God!” He threw the once treasured picture of him and Minho as children against the wall, shattering the frame and glass. He walked across the room, mindless of the glass, and tore the photo up into tiny pieces.

He sank to his knees, sobbing. “It was supposed to be the other way around, you bastard. Goddamn it, I was the one who was supposed to die. It should have been me! It should have been me!” he screamed it until his voice was gone, and then he mouthed the words.

For a long time, he sat there on his knees in the room, unaware of the fact that he was bleeding. He pulled the boxcutter out of his pocket, the one that he’d been planning to kill himself with. His tears were bitter as he cried them. His hands shook so badly that it was difficult to get a good grasp on the tool.

    “Still pathetic and weak, even when I’m about to die,” his tears started falling in earnest, feeling all the disgust that his words carried. In one swift motion, he jerked the boxcutter up his wrist. The wound poured blood, and instantly Kibum felt nauseous. He hated the sight of blood.

He passed out, knowing with certainty that he wouldn’t wake up.
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Well, it's definitely not my best work, but I'm okay with this I think. It's a step up from the crap I've been writing lately. ^^;

Hope you enjoyed reading.

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Til next time, loves. ^.~