Part 25 ⧫ Inimical

in·im·i·cal

/iˈnimək(ə)l/

adjective

Tending to obstruct or harm.

_______

Baekhyun didn’t show up at school the following day, or the next, or the next. Every message sent, every phone call -- it was like the other end was completely dead. I had no idea what exactly happened to him -- I couldn’t bring myself to ask Chanyeol, not after what had happened -- I would feel horrible to do so. That, and then pride. The stupid pride that I could never quite shake off; and maybe a bit of fear too. Part of me felt bad to bother him, and the other half was simply worried -- what exactly had happened to him?

I felt bad -- horrible, in fact -- for eavesdropping on him and Chanyeol, but what was done was done and it couldn’t be undone. I had tried apologizing to him -- fourteen texts, in fact, but there was no sign of life from the other end and I had no idea where to find him other than through technology, if he wasn’t going to show up at school.

Jongin, too, had stopped his daily texts; in fact, I hadn’t heard from him in a couple days, though I still saw him in the hallways occasionally, since we had no overlapping classes. He stepped past me whenever we passed. Chanyeol was unusually subdued, quiet too, and no one was able to get out of him what was wrong. I didn’t ask him.

School was miserable without Baekhyun, to put it lightly. I didn’t really notice it that much when he was there; and I felt stupid for taking it for granted; whether it be his laugh or the cheerfulness he spread to people around him. It was ironic, really, that I only realized how much I missed him when he really was gone. All those times I had kicked him and told him to go away jokingly -- I was beginning to regret that, now that he wasn’t here. It had only been three days, too; was I insane?

Everything had become somehow dull, and going to classes lost it’s meaning -- whether I would openly admit it or not, the reason I wanted to go to school at times -- there were times that it was because of Baekhyun. And now that he had suddenly disappeared, everything seemed to dim by many times.

Studying without him -- I couldn’t even concentrate, and that horrified me. I didn’t want to be so reliant on one person. The thought itself made me want to rip out hair.

“So he just disappeared? Poof?” Jihyun asked, crossing her arms and examining me with an unhidden skepticism. “And Chanyeol didn’t say anything to you either?”

“Well, yeah. Well, not like that, but… I haven’t been able to contact him in three days and he ran off and no one knows where he went. Well, I don’t anyways. I should ask Chanyeol, but he’s… I think he’s mad at me. Jongin too. Kyungsoo. None of them spoke to me in the past couple days.” Absentmindedly, I scribbled Baekhyun’s name onto the paper, then erased it the moment I realized that I did. “I mean, I was pretty much caught red handed after witnessing another argument from them, and I don’t think Baekhyun was too happy that I overheard. I don’t know if that’s the sole reason for him ignoring me, but…”

Jihyun snorted. “Go talk to Chanyeol. He probably knows where Baekhyun is.”

“But-”

“I know you’re bad at facing people, Iseul. But this is your boyfriend you’re talking about -- you can’t just say nothing and continue waiting for someone to approach you. Go apologize to Chanyeol first, go ask him what happened; or I’ll do it myself. Think of it; why don’t you do it? Are you afraid that he’s going to be angry with you? What’s more important -- that, or Baekhyun?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. And you make it sound like it sound like my whole world revolves around him,” I argued back weakly, but I found that I couldn’t meet Jihyun’s eyes anymore. She was strangely convincing when she wanted to be, and I was terrible at arguing. “It doesn’t. There’s other things in my life…”

“Does asking Chanyeol ruin your mark for finals?” she interrupted. “Is asking for someone’s well being that hard? Someone you care about?”

“I-”

“That wasn’t a question for you to answer out loud,” she said sharply.

***

When I finally summoned up the courage to talk to Chanyeol (sometimes I wondered why it was so hard for me to do something as simple as ask a question, but then again, how could the look of disappointment on someone’s face be so hurtful? Some questions, I would probably never get the answer to), it was already a Thursday. Baekhyun, unfortunately, didn’t show up, answer anything, or even give any sign that he still existed on the face of the earth somewhere.

It was after a gym class, and I felt tired and defeated, and just about dead -- which was odd, because in four days, it was the one time I had finally been able to make myself confront him. My head hurt from hitting it against the floor after tripping over my own feet -- physical activities were not my forte. So when I almost slammed into Chanyeol in the hallways, I had no idea how the question even spilled out anyways.

Chanyeol just about knocked the books from my arms, but at the last moment, I managed to snatch them back before they landed on the floor. I remembered the other time I had smashed into him; it wasn’t like this, at least. He had apologized and smiled.

He gave me one look that made me feel incredibly small, then turned heel and abruptly tried to leave. It was really a spur-of-the-moment thing, but before he could completely disappear into the hallway, I grabbed his arm and pulled him back with a strength I didn’t know that I possessed. “What happened to Baekhyun?” I blurted out as soon as he turned around, before I could stop even myself or loose my confidence. Even if I felt like regretting it after, it felt like a huge weight relieved the moment the words left my mouth. “Is he really… skipping school because of…because of that… argument?”

Chanyeol suddenly seemed to look really tired. He blinked, like adjusting to my presence -- and didn’t say anything, and neither did I. His eyes -- they were slightly red -- not something noticeable from a distance, but this was the closest I had been to Chanyeol for days and there was no doubt that he was at least somewhat tired and lacking sleep. “I thought you’d never ask,” was all he said after the silence.

He didn’t look mad, I noted. Just tired. Exhausted, in fact.

“So…?” I managed, tentatively.

Chanyeol’s smile was slightly bitter, tight, a ghost of the one that was normally there. He blinked again. “It’s a long story,” he replied. “I’m glad you asked, but I don’t have time to explain it here. The bell’s going to ring soon.” My heart dropped. “But,” he added quickly, “If you have a moment after classes, I’ll text you and meet you somewhere after.”

Despite having asked the dreaded question -- that confrontation wasn’t so bad after all -- the overwhelming sense of dread followed me the rest of the day.

***

I found it hard to breath as I sat next to Chanyeol on the bench, overlooking the front of the school -- where flowers had begun to bloom and the trees were finally covering with a thick bush of green leaves. Summer was approaching fast, but despite the earlier spring days, it felt more like winter than ever. I even felt physically cold; and as we sat in silence, I pulled my thin jacket around myself tightly, slouching, making the height difference between Chanyeol and I even more obvious than it should’ve been.

“So.” My voice sounded loud. Too loud. “What…” the question didn’t seem to want to come out. “What happened?”

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