Never Give Up

Main Pairing: Kai + D.O (KaiSoo)

Side Pairing: OCxLay, OCxTao

Inspiration: "The Little Things" by videogamebookworm10 (ø)

...xXx...

He downs one shot.

Then another.

And another.

It becomes an endless cycle. 

His eyes struggle to stay open and his voice comes out slurred as he calls out for more every time, but no matter how his head buzzes, the truth keeps on blaring out in his mind.

Kim Jongin has only a year to live. Maybe less.

Because of a stupid brain tumor.

He lets out a cry of frustration at the fact. 

The two haven't even dated that long yet. 

Is death their separation he wonders? He rarely wonders about the future since he's so busy worrying about the now, but since he's heard the news, it's all he can think of. When would they tell the public about their relationship? How long would it take for the public's acceptance? What would they do if they weren't accepted? Who would stand by them during those times? Would they be able to continue their careers and when would they retire if they did? 

Why can't his questions become real worries?

At this rate, he mourns, he won't even have the time to make the choice or worry.

Kim Jongin.

The name imprints itself in his brain and all his thoughts lead back to him.

How long has Jongin hid it? How much longer would Jongin even be able to try and hide it? 

And why couldn't they afford that stupid surgery? It was so expensive but it was for Jongin d*mn*t. 

Tears leaking from his eyes, he calls for another drink again, voice undeniably drunk.

Oh, but that person coming over isn't a waiter, he recalls blankly, or at least if he were, he wouldn't be being carried away now.

Who is this stranger? 

It doesn't matter, he decides, since nothing matters without Jongin. His eyes flutter close, counting the person's rough steps. 

1.

2.

3.

4.

Oh wait, he's stopped. 

Faintly, he hears a soft voice, only a light flutter against his ears and he hears another voice answer, scratchy and low. He hears them converse for a while before finally, it stops and then, he's falling. Someone half-catches him so only his feet collide with the ground, but he hardly feels any pain - unsure if it was because of the alcohol or not. 

The person - small he can tell, barely able to lift him off the ground - carries him elsewhere. He's put in a bed and for a moment he panics, but he remembers Jongin again and he stops struggling.

Nothing mattered.

Absolutely nothing mattered without Kim Jongin. 

He struggles to open his eyes, but the alcohol has done its magic.

Finally, he thinks, before his brain floats numbly. 

Minutes. Seconds. Hours. 

Time passes numbly until someone slips a pill between his teeth and some water. He wonders if he should resist but doesn't, swallowing obediently.

He hears that voice again, that soft voice, speaking with irritation. He focuses, curious until finally he can hear the words, but oddly, he hears something else under her words.

"-es. He's with me." Why else would I be calling? (Was that sarcasm?)

"No, don't come quite yet." I'll take care of him for a while.

"I'm quite capable of taking care of him myself." It'll be better than you anyways. (Ouch. What a burn, he thinks.)

There's the distinct sound of a phone being hung up and the sound of a few steps. There's a creak of a rocking chair and the sound of a page being turned.

Finally, he dares to open his eyes. The room is rather dim and his eyes quickly adjust. He turns his head sideways, catching sight of a small girl sitting on a rocking chair, reading.

"You were drunk," the soft voice states calmly. He looks around and is surprised to see the small girl is the source of the voice. Her glasses reflect off what little light there is and looking at her again, he sees that she isn't a child despite her petite size. She puts down her book and faces him and he appraises her. She's pretty, he thinks swiftly, and definitely independent.

"You should be more careful," she warns. Especially since you're an idol. 

Where is he, he wonders. He sits up carefully, shrinking under the small girl's penetrating gaze.

There's a knock on the door and another girl comes in, brown eyes and brown hair in a braid over her shoulder, just as pretty if not prettier than the first.

"Is he awake?" she asks, her voice higher and more toned down, as if used to speaking louder. 

"Miyoung," the small girl calls, catching the brown-haired one's attention. "Tell Xiuxiu she's in charge for today then follow me." We're going out.

" 'k Unnie," Miyoung answers, sighing before she leaves out the door. 

"Get dressed," the small girl orders, tossing clothes at Kyungsoo. "I fed you something for your hangover." You should be coordinated enough. (Ah, that was the pill.)

She stands and leaves out the door. He sighs and changes without much choice. His stage clothes were too flashy. He simply prays that he isn't being an idiot in trusting the two females. Before long, the two females from before return and the shorter gives off waves of displeasure. 

"Let's go," she succinctly states before walking out the door. 

"Did I...do something?" he asks aloud. Miyoung laughs.

"You made Umma mad," she teases and follows. He stares after them puzzled, but follows. No point in dragging out the inevitable. 

He recognizes the bar's interior, cleaned up and closed, and pulls up the hood of his borrowed jacket - no need to be recognized - and for a moment, he wonders why he is there before remembering-

-and he falls to the floor and his chest tightens-

-because he *ng forgot Kim Jongin. 

His eyes grow wide and he takes in breaths, but he's not breathing until a light slap on his cheek wakes him up. It stings, but quickly fades. 

"Move it," the short girl reminds, walking away. He takes another breath and slowly gets up on his feet, seeing the two girls waiting for him at the turn of the corner. He follows as they twist and turn down different corridors, past different rooms, down to the basement, and out a back way. 

"Where...are we going?" he finally dares to ask.

"My place," the shorter girl answers. "We're going to have a talk."

He gulps nervously and the whole trip passes by in a blur. (Later, he realizes that no fans are on the path, only elderly people and in shadier parts, a few rough-looking teens, and wonders how she knew such paths.)

When he enters her place, he's confused at first since it's a dojo (A. Freaking. Dojo.) but things pass by in a blur again and he's changed into the dojo's uniform, black puffy pants with a white robe-like top that looks as though it comes out of that show he used to watch when he was younger (Bleach was it?) and he's standing in front of the shorter girl who's removed her glasses and pulled her hair into a neat ponytail. 

They're alone in a small room and she bows and he follows because he doesn't know what else to do.

"I thought we were havi-"

She attacks without warning and the breath is stolen from him without even trying. He stands quickly, dodging another kick.

"Wait! I don't want to fi-"

But she's relentless and soon it takes all he has to not get hit, but already she's getting through what little defenses he has.

With each attack, his thoughts become more and more blank, instead only fueled by pure emotion - confusion, fear, but most surprising of all is anger - anger at her, anger at being attacked for no reason, anger at his inability to act, anger at everything. 

Finally, he spots an opening (Later, he would thank Tao for teaching him a little wushu.) and with a strangled yell, attacks. Suddenly, she's no longer in control and gleefully, he thinks, he is and he feels satisfaction. 

With each blow, he screams - at her, at himself, at the world, at Kim Jongin-

-and he stops, horrified because he realizes that she hasn't been fighting back at all-

-and Kim Jongin. Oh my gosh, Kim Jongin-

"You were doing so well," the girl states, sighing. She looks up and he winces, horrified at the damage he's done.

"I'm so sorry," he apologizes profusely. She waves off his help and stands up as though she hasn't been injured.

"How do you feel?" she asks and he has no idea what she's talking about because she's injured. Because of him. 

But at her gaze, he thinks about it, digging around, and finds he feels-

"Better," he admits. 

"Boys always feel better after fighting," she states factually. "Whatever made you go out and drink for hours in my café, doesn't matter. Go fight it."

He blinks.

"You just let me beat you up to teach me that?!" he half-shrieks. "Words could have been good! Your face-oh my gosh, your face-and-and-and I kicked you really hard in the stomach. Are you even okay? And your shoulder-"

He begins to ramble because he's overcome with guilt, gratefulness, and embarrassment because this girl just let him do this to teach him a lesson-

And suddenly, something hits the back of his foot and he falls, pain shooting up his back.

He makes a sound of pain and she stares down at him satisfied.

"And now we're even," she states calmly. Then he blushes (though he doesn't quite know why) and she helps him get up.

"Kyungsoo-Hyung!" a familiar, accented voice calls eagerly before long arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him up into the air.

"Wha-Tao-What are you doing here?" Kyungsoo stutters, surprised.

"Hyung you won't believe it!" Tao eagerly shouts, swinging the elder around dizzily. "Hyung! Kai-Hyung is going to live!" 

"What?" Kyungsoo breathes, letting Tao swing him around. Tears slip out of his eyes in relief because Jongin was going to live. 

"Never give up," she adds, smiling mysteriously as though she knew he would.

"Someone sent a large amount of money and specifically hinted at Kai's surgery," another nostalgic voice informs. Lay appears, hand locked with Miyoung.

"Thank god," Kyungsoo whispers. He escapes from Tao's grasp and clasps the girl's hands in his. "Thank you."

"Who are you talking to?" Lay asks, blinking. 

"This girl right here," Kyungsoo answers, gesturing with a puzzled expression. His smile turns teasing. "What about the girl you're holding hands with? Who's she to you?"

"I'm not holding hands with anyone," Lay states, confused. 

"Hyung, are you alright?" Tao asks.

"He's right," the girl mutters. Kyungsoo looks at her - really looks at her - and his jaw drops, his hands involuntarily letting go, because ever so faintly, he can see through her, can see through Miyoung. He looks around and the dojo he's in is dusty, as if not in use anymore. 

"I'm going crazy," Kyungsoo mutters as Miyoung pulls away from Lay with a sigh and joins hands with the shorter. The two walk and Kyungsoo follows their path with his eyes until they walk straight through a wall and disappear, a single frame above their exit. He walks over, ignoring Lay and Tao's questioning gazes and pulls the picture down gently. He recognizes the two faces - the two females - in it. 

"Hey Hyung...how'd you get here?" Tao asks hesitantly.

"Where is here?" Kyungsoo wonders aloud, taking in the picture - the girls smiling happily with arms wrapped around each other like close friends, both dressed in the weird Japanese outfit he was wearing. (He wasn't wearing it anymore somehow, he realizes.)

"My old wushu gym," Tao answers. "Or at least, where I used to come to spar."

Tao's hand comes over his shoulder, tracing the face of the shorter girl.

"That was the girl I liked...the other girl was dating Lay," Tao admits, whispering. 

"What happened to them?" Kyungsoo dares to ask.

"Brain tumor," Tao states with a regretful laugh. Lay comes up, standing beside them in silence and staring. "They couldn't afford the surgery and...died. Ironic you'd come here of all places."

"Yeah," Kyungsoo agrees, watching Tao's finger trace the girl's face with longing. "Ironic."

"Never should have given up," Tao whispers regretfully. He never specificies who. 

For a moment, there's silence, and then Kyungsoo rehangs the picture. He gives it one final stare and thanks them silently.

"Let's go," he suggests and the three leave in silence.

...xXx...