Final Chapter

It is February now, and despite the bitterly cold weather, everyone in the city is busily preparing for or dreading the quickly approaching Saint Valentines’ Day. Lu Han closed his restaurant, Chen and Xiumin returned to Korea, since their study abroad semester had ended, and Yifan had his hands full with school, jobs, and his wife, who would be giving birth to their son any day now. And Yixing . . . he’d just disappeared from your life completely; it was as if the time the two of you spent together was merely a fantastic delusion or fleeting dream. It was so hard to get ahold of anyone these days . . . Especially that one person who meant more than the world to you. You missed him so much--

Zing.

You clutch your chest as it tightens, this time more painfully than ever before. Straightening yourself to avoid stares, you try to ignore the pain that’s been gradually intensifying over the last three months, despite the fact that you never forgot your medicine. And you made it to your father’s house before you collapsed off your feet as every memory of that beloved man’s dimpled smile and warmth plays in your heart and mind.

Yixing--

Heart transplant.

Wonderful, now you’re a Frankenstein freak with odd eyes and some dead person’s heart in your chest. It’s been about a week since your operation, and your father has been thanking God every day that a donor heart was available right when you needed it.

Zing.

Sitting up in the hospital bed, you place a hand over the place where your new heart was beating. You felt dull aches and some sharp pain every now and then—well, duh, surgery—but . . . it was as if the pain wasn’t just your heart hurting, almost as if it was someone else’s pain of terrible longing . . . You think for a bit, trying to find humor in the boredom of being bed ridden and grounded in the hospital. But you can’t find any, so your mind races back to Yixing, back to that beach where he danced that distant summer, back to that first dance with him, back to that dance you shared with him on the mountain, back to that magical, first and last night you spent making love with him--

Zing.

And those memories cause the pain to sharpen, so you force your mind to think about other matters.

Organ transplant. Heart donor.

Weren’t these things usually wait-listed or obtained illegally through the black market or gang murders?

Zing.

Something just didn’t feel right . . .

I . . . want to see you, Yixing. I still love you--

A week after your discharge, you wander around the city, stopping at the pool room Yixing used to bring you to with his friends. Once inside, you’re surprised to see Lu Han and Yifan at a table with Zitao crying in a corner.

Making your way over, you notice Lu Han avoiding your eyes as you greeted them. You try to ask Zitao what’s wrong, but he slaps you off, running to the men’s bathroom. You try to talk to Lu Han, but he ignores you, taking a sip of beer after turning away from you as his shoulders began to tremble.

Zing.

Feeling unnerved and oddly sick now, you turn to Yifan, who meets your eyes with his bleary and red ones. There was so much pain in his eyes . . . And even though something tells you that wasn’t it, you ask anyway, “Is Li Na . . . ?”

“She’s getting ier,” he mutters darkly, scrubbing at his nose with his sleeve. “I just told her she shouldn’t be on her feet so much with the baby coming and all, and she kicked me out of MY house.”

“Oh . . .” You breathed out a sigh of relief, glad that your friend was OK.

Zing.

But even though this was good news, the atmosphere was still suffocating and heavy with grief. Something still wasn’t right. “Where’s Yixing?” And you jumped as Lu Han suddenly threw down his pool stick and stormed out of the room. “Lu Han—“

“Lihua, leave him alone,” Yifan says quietly, pulling you back as you tried to run after the man. Lightly, he seats you at a stool and tells you not to get up as he begins pacing while staring at the ceiling.

You don’t know why, but you obeyed him, just watching with wide eyes as he paced and cleared his throat so many times while trying to find some words. He looked so stressed out, so sad . . .

“Where is Zhang Yixing?” You ask again, wondering why that man felt farther away than ever now.

Zing.

Yifan places his large hands on your smaller shoulders, looking directly into your eyes. “Your heart transplant surgery went well.”

Zing.

Why did that matter? It was just some dead person’s heart that made you a Frankenstein monster now—

“Take good care of that heart. It was Zhang Yixing’s.”

“How’s Li Na?” Yixing asked, hands in his pockets as he walked to the pool room with Yifan.

“Crazy and getting crazier,” grumbled the tall, blond man. “If I had a dollar for every time I’ve had to grovel for something that really wasn’t my fault . . . I just tried to help out with the dishes and cleaning, you know? It’s fricking terrifying how one second she loves me, then the next she hates me for only God knows what. Last night, after I tucked in with her--”

Yixing laughed, and the white puffs of his breath floated in the air like ghosts. “We’re men. God made it so everything IS our fault and we can never win again against our ladies. We want families, but who actually has to deal with nine months of pain?”

“You’re starting to sound like Lihua, geez . . . How is she, anyway?”

And the two men paused at the intersection, waiting for a green light to cross.

“Dunno, I’ve been avoiding her since we broke up—“

“You broke up? When?”

“Back in December.”

“What?”

“I’m just an idiot and a coward, I guess,” Yixing shrugged, stepping into the crosswalk as the signal turned green.

“Wait, what happened—“ Yifan had just barely taken a step forward as a car sped through, launching Yixing into the air and depositing his broken body just a little away from the shoulder of the road. “Oh my God!”

“Hey man, stay with me,” Yifan said, slapping his friend’s rapidly paling face in the ambulance. “Yixing—“

Yixing’s eyes looked through Yifan, slowly growing unfocused. “I’m . . . not going to make it.” He shushed his friend as everything slowed down, becoming oddly peaceful and quiet. “Yifan, Lihua . . . she’s sick.”

“So what? You’re sick, too!”

“Think I forgot to take my meds . . . hey?”

“. . . what now?”

“Can you sign for me? My heart . . . it’ll always belong to her . . .”

And the line went dead as Yixing passed away in that cold winter night . . .

END - Heterochromia iridum

20160131 - Final chapter, after like, 2 years? I'm so sorry I took so long and thank you all for reading & I've enjoyed writing for you ^^ Jaedelle can't say for sure there will be no additions to this arc (like a season 2), but for now, I have no plans on extending the story arc, so it ends as is in tragedy. Tragedy is what Jaedelle writes best, so it would seem ._.

Recap: After breaking up with you, you have not seen Yixing at all, and learn that he passed away, ending your story.