pairing: Jihyo x Tzuyu

summary: She never thought it would end quite like this.

4.

I don’t know how long I have been here, but as I hear the footsteps approaching, I know it must have been awhile. I have cried so much that I can’t cry anymore and now the tears are only dry streaks on my cheeks. It’s unfortunate that they can probably see them, but there is nothing I can do about that now.

The lock on the door clicks and the door swings open, casting a pale yellow light in to the room. First I can’t see much as I have been in the dark for too long. I close my eyes and consider playing unconscious, but I doubt it would do me any good.

Then there is a shadow over me as a man in a mask steps closer and grabs me by the arm. Forcefully he pulls me up and I try to think of myself as a doll. Relaxed, movable limbs and an expression on the face that never changes. I’m not going to fight, because everyone I love is already safe.

He takes me down a long corridor and says nothing. We take several turns and walk down several corridors, before we come to a simple door. Everything here is bare and plain and it looks as if we might be underground. Behind the door is a huge warehouse that could easily be used for trucks and other large vehicles. In the middle of the room is a plain white table and two chairs. The other seat is already taken and I can guess who is going to sit in the other one.

Unsurprisingly, the man makes me sit down on the chair and I try to get a comfortable position and look calm. He ties my hands behind my back and it is sort of funny. What could I possibly do when they have guns and I have nothing but my clothes and bump on my head?

“Do you know why you are here?” the man opposite asks me in Chinese, but I pretend not to understand. My Chinese isn’t very good, but I’d like to keep that little knowledge to myself. Maybe they will reveal something if they think I don’t understand.

“Do you know why you are here?” he repeats, this time more slowly, but I do my best to look dumb.

The man leans back on his chair and sighs.

Just then I can hear a noise coming from somewhere behind me. The door opens and somebody rushes in.

“They’re here!” a man shouts and I watch as the man in front of me stands up, clearly agitated. I try to turn my head so that I can see what is going on, but the door is in my blind spot.

More noise comes from the outside.

My interrogator pulls a gun from his belt and points it at me.

“If we’re going, you’re coming with us,” he says quietly, but surely.

There’s a bang, then another and another. The whole world is full of noises, but my eyes go dark as something wet drips down my blouse.

2.

As I step out of the car a strange feeling goes over me. The skin on my arms seems to roll as if there’s an earthquake in my veins. I look around, but everything seems normal. There are fans behind a fence waving and cheering, so I try to push the feeling away. I wave back and smile. There’s nothing to fear.

Tzuyu is struggling to get out of the car. She has just woken up (she slept soundlessly with her head on my shoulder and I thought that if my shoulder would turn to gold, it wouldn’t be all that surprising) and is sluggish with her movements. Her headphones are tangled with the seatbelt. She untangles them and for some reason I stay back, waiting for her. She probably finds my hovering annoying, but I can’t help it. I never really could.

When she finally moves, the blanket she uses to cover her legs almost slips, but I catch the corner of it before it falls to the ground. She steps next to me and blinks at the merciless spring sun and for a moment, we are alone in the whole world. There is only Tzuyu and me, and the sun who also loves Tzuyu. At least, that is how it looks like.

“Tzuyu!” the fans chant as they see her tall figure for the first time. I smile as she looks a little baffled, like this isn’t completely normal.

There’s a sound of an approaching vehicle and something about it doesn’t seem right. It’s too loud, too aggressive, coming too fast, coming here.

Then I can see a black van turning around the corner and surging forward, not caring about the people who are standing close by. I see the masks, before I see anything else. Before I see the guns on their hands.

They’ve come to get Tzuyu. I know it right away, because who else would they want? Everybody always wants her, wants to have her, wants a piece of her, a picture of her, they want everything from her. They never leave her alone, they never let her have herself. They want to own her, to destroy her, to love her. It’s all about what they want and never about what she wants.

I push Tzuyu back into the car even before the van has stopped and I close the door with a bang. The managers are on the wrong side, the bodyguards are too few. The fans are already fleeing or going down.

I feel as she bangs the class from the inside and screams for me to get inside. I place my hand on hers (I can almost feel her warm skin through the class) and I look into her eyes, hoping that I could convey at least some of the things that I am feeling.

I stand there as they come closer and they shout and they threaten us, but I stand still and everything is so far away. I hear sirens, I hear shouts and I can hear Tzuyu calling my name.

Pain on my head turns my mind into nothing.

3.

There aren’t pens or paper, or anything else I could write on. I couldn’t see what I was writing anyway.

So, I write letters in my head.

I write one for my parents. I tell them how grateful I am and how much I love them.

I write one for my siblings. I tell them that I love them and that they will become great people and that I will always be with them, even if they can’t see me.

(At this point, there are tears in my eyes, but I let them fall on their own accord. I can’t stop and feel sorry for myself, because my time is running out.)

I write a letter for my friends. I write a big one for all of them. I think about them reading it together while they talk about me, comforting each other.

Then I write one for my members. I tell them that I love them, but it doesn’t feel enough. I tell them separately that I love them. I tell them that they must carry on without me and that they will be fine without me.

(If I had a pen and paper and little daylight I wouldn’t see now because my eyes are blinded by tears. I concentrate on them for a moment and let them overwhelm me.)

I realize that there is still one more letter I need to write. It goes something like this:

Dear Tzuyu,

there are many things that I wish I had told you when I still had the change. But those times are gone now, so I’ll try to say only the most important things.

I love you, Tzuyu. I always did. The moment I saw you at the training center I knew that something was about to change. It wasn’t just something, it was everything. Secretly, I gave you all my thoughts and dreams and hoped that one day I might have been able to share them with you. I know you most likely only thought of me as your unnie, your big sister from Korea, but to me you were always so much more.

Please, don’t feel guilty about this. This is not your fault in anyway. Even as I sit here alone I would still do the same thing if I got the chance. If you want to blame somebody, blame the men who took me. But don’t think about it for too long. You have better things to do and the world is your oyster. You can do anything you ever want.

Don’t mourn me too much. I’m always there with you no matter what happens. My life wasn’t a waste and I’m not angry at anyone. I could save you and that’s all I ever wanted to do.

I love you so much.

Yours forever,

Jihyo

As my throat and my chest hurt from the things that I can’t say, I seal the letters in my head and I walk to a mailing box. I let the letters drop into the box and I close it, hoping that in some way they could reach my loved ones.

1.

There isn’t a trace of light in the room. My eyes are open, but no matter how much I squint or blink I can’t see a thing. I know there’s a door in front of me, because I can feel a slight breeze coming from underneath. I realize quite quickly that the shorts and a blouse I’m wearing won’t cover me from the cold of the air, or of the cold of the human hearts.

I’ve gone through the room a couple of times now. It is as small as it is bare. The only thing that is left (whether on purpose or not, I don’t know) is a small bucket (or maybe I do, but I won’t think about that now). There are no windows and the door to the outside world is well-made and too much for my small body to break.

After I had gone through every corner in the room and tried to break the door I searched my own body. The moment I had woken I had known from the pain in my head that they had hit me. There is a large bump on the right side of my head and my hair is dirty from dried blood. It doesn’t matter, because otherwise I’m fine. My head is the only thing that hurts (the skin under my clothes is clean).

I’m fine.

I keep repeating it to myself and it’s not the first time in my life that I have done that. I have used it to keep away bad thoughts and comments and it has helped. Now those moments seem minuscule compared with what is going on now, but that’s life. You go through hell to understand the small traces of heaven.

Everything that has happened earlier seems like a technicolor dream. There are eight smiling faces, there are small hands holding the hem of my shirt at home, there are words of praise and encouragement. There are moments of glory and greatness, but it is the small things that I miss now. Shall I ever have those moments again?

Don’t be silly, a voice in my head says. It’s the voice of unwavering positivity and that voice belongs to Sana. She might not be the one you’d choose when you’d go to a battle, but I wish she was here in this cave-like room.

It’s a foolish thought, because I’d rather be here alone knowing that the others are safe.

I’m here alone, because I made a choice to be here. I was forced to be here, but in the end, it was my choice. As long as I can keep that in mind, I’m okay. I am me and I have control over myself and they can’t take it away, unless they can chase me deep into my thoughts.

So, I brace myself. When they come back, I will be as ready as I can be. I promise myself to be.

5.

“-the last members of the nationalist group were captured today. The police told the media that they had been hiding in a warehouse not far from-“

I breathe in slowly, but I don’t dare to open my eyes yet.

“-Entertainment has kept quiet about the popstar’s condition, but our reporters have been able to-“

There’s a burning sensation on my right arm and an odd smell makes it to my nostrils as I continue my breathing exercises. For some reason I am scared to open my eyes, but I can’t remember why.

“Close the TV, I don’t want to see that again,” a woman says.

Mom. I open my eyes in an instant and I can see her standing close by, together with my dad. For a moment, they don’t realize that I am watching them and I don’t want to break the moment. Maybe I have died and if I try to reach out to them they won’t see me here. I might be a ghost.

As I continue to stare, my mother turns her head and looks at me. First she doesn’t seem to realize what she is seeing, but when she finally does she moves faster than lightning.

“Jisoo!” She throws her arms around me and kisses my cheek so strongly that it might leave an eternal mark.

“Who brought you up to be so brave?” she whispers and keeps pressing kisses on my face. I try to lift my hand to brush away the tears that decorate her cheeks but I realize that I can’t move them properly. “I’m going to have a word with those people,” she continues as if she is mad and I can’t help but smile.

Then I remember.

“Where’s Tzuyu?”

-

When Tzuyu comes in she looks like a shadow of her former self, but still she is the brightest thing I have ever seen. She rushes to my bed and without the slightest hesitation she presses her lips against mine.

It’s not a kiss, but a desperate collision of souls and it doesn’t matter if it doesn’t last very long, because she is here. She is safe. We both are.

“You’re an idiot,” Tzuyu says as we pull apart. She clutches the collar of my shirt and chews her lower lip in an attempt not to cry.

“I love you,” I say and I know she knows it already, but I’m not going to waste another day not telling her that.

“I love you, too,” she whispers and bursts into tears.

I pull her down so that her head rests on my shoulder and I hold her as she weeps. Or maybe she is holding me, because I realize that I am crying just as much.

Finally, I can allow myself to be afraid.

A/N: The title and inspiration comes from this song. The idea was that I wrote this story in order (1-5, pt 2 being a flashback) and when it was done I changed the order. Basically, the 5 parts can be switched in anyway possible. If you want, you can go back and read this in the original order, or change it again. I know, why can't I write like normal people? I blame Jitzu for making my brain turn all post-modern so that I can't write proper fics...