Jongin missing school and getting marked as sick was most likely the strangest day of my life.

I asked him the next day, if he were really sick because Kim Jongin didn’t really get sick.

He shrugged at me. “Came down with a cold,” he said. “But hey, it took me a day.”

He wasn’t coughing, or sniffling. I squinted at him. “Your cold got better in a day,” I said dumbly.

Patting my back, Jongin gave me a shrug. “I’m not weak like you.”

Chapter 32

I didn’t know how long I sat there crying, but it mustn’t have been that long because the second time I called the number—it was Jimin’s, I noticed, which was the first thing on my recent list—he’d picked up.

“Jeon Mira?” His voice was loud, or maybe it was because, for some reason, and I thought that maybe it was because I’d turned the Athanatoi senses on without even noticing it, or maybe it was just my head messing with me. “Hey, you’re still there right now, right? Are you okay? We need… we just need around two more minutes, and we should be able to get to where you are—”

“Kai,” I managed, and it came out as a sob. I kept two fingers on his wrist, almost desperate that somehow, I’d find a pulse, but nothing happened. The only thing I could do was cry.

He must’ve heard my sniffling through the phone. “What happened?” he asked, voice more urgent. “Mira? Is the Darkling still there? Are you—”

“Kai’s hurt,” I sobbed. “Jimin, Kai’s—Kai’s—he’s not breathing, and I don’t know what to do, I’m—”

“Wait.” A new tone of urgency had crept into his voice, and for some reason, his voice seemed to have gotten louder. “Mira, what happened?”

I choked out another sob. It came out along the lines of hurry, please before I dropped the phone, unable to hold it properly with one hand, already stained with blood. When I picked it up again, Jimin had disconnected on the other side.

I could barely see Jongin’s face through the tears, smudged with black ash, and everywhere else frightfully pale. He hadn’t moved, I couldn’t feel the pulse—trembling, I glanced around, trying to think through the terror and pain if there was anything I could do. Both golems were dead, the Darkling’s projection was nowhere to be seen—they were gone, but being alone, being so helpless was so much worse than I had felt having to face those two.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, running through options hysterically. Pick up Kai and try to get him somewhere? He looked badly injured enough—what if that made it worse, especially because I couldn’t carry him? Jimin was closest; two minutes should’ve been nothing of a wait time, but time ticked on, each second stretching into a minute, then what felt like ten, an hour. I couldn’t stop the bleeding—there was too much for me to even try without being afraid that I’d make it worse.

It definitely didn’t feel like two minutes when someone appeared around the corner. Vision still blurry, breathing still heavy, I looked up from where I was crouched as three boys fanned out around Jimin, who was bracing a dagger in front of him. His eyes flickered around the whole scene, finally landed on me and Kai, and then as if some spell had been broken, they all rushed forward.

Someone pulled me to my feet. I had no idea who it was, but I nudged them hard with an elbow, terrified for a moment about getting separated from Kai even though some immensely guilty part of me must’ve already known that this had been my fault, that none of it would’ve happened if I hadn’t gone home alone, if he hadn’t come for me, or if I could’ve just been a bit more helpful. Maybe it was best if I’d gotten separated from him. What if Kai had been too late? The Darkling obviously wasn’t going to kill me. If he needed my power for something, at least no one would be getting seriously injured or dying because of me.

“He’s—” I got out, “please help him, I don’t know—I don’t know what to…”

I broke off, unable to get the words out. The person who’d pulled me back set me down again, and then a face dipped into my line of vision.

“Hey,” Taehyung said. “I’m so—Mira, it’ll be fine, just…” He cast one glance towards the direction of Jimin and the other boy, took a shuddering breath and finished lamely, “just try to keep calm.”

I wondered deliriously if he knew that Kai had no pulse, or if any of them knew. Someone should’ve noticed—if even I could, there was no way they wouldn’t find out—but some desperate part of me that wasn’t ready to give up yet hoped that maybe I’d been checking the wrong place, that there was something left there for a healer to fix. Jimin’s safehouse had Yoongi—if we could get there soon enough, then maybe—maybe it was possible, maybe there was some way out. The impossibility of the whole situation washed over me—Kai wouldn’t go down so easily, there had to be another way out.

I turned to look at Taehyung again. “I couldn’t find his pulse,” I blurted out, “I don’t know if—don’t know if I’m searching in the right place, I just… after the explosion he…”

Taehyung looked completely lost. He stared at me, eyes wide with panic, and then he told me that it was going to be fine and called Jimin over.

Five seconds later, Taehyung had left me with the other boy in favor of checking up Kai with their other companion, whom I didn’t recognize. Jimin managed to turn me away from the scene, not nearly as awkward as Taehyung, but still obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation. He wasn’t the consoling type, and after patting me twice on the back, he drew back, looking close to panicking too.

“Look,” he finally said. “We can’t confirm anything about Kai right now, but if you want to help, do me a favour and ring up whoever you can from your safehouse and tell them to go to ours because it’s closer. Then we can figure something out. For now, we’re going to stop his bleeding and bring him back.”

I sniffled again, feeling terrible about being unable to do anything but cry (having been the one who caused the whole situation in the first place), but at the same time, I didn’t have the energy to do much more. Hiccuping, I picked up my phone, bloodied fingers fumbling across the screen. Jimin frowned at the sight but didn’t say anything.

Baekhyun picked up at the first dial tone. “Mira?” he demanded, sounding so distraught that it sent warning bells through me. Byun Baekhyun never sounded like that. “I’m with Kyungsoo and ‘Xing, but I don’t know where you guys are? What’s going on? Is everyone okay?”

“Jimin says go to their safehouse,” I managed out through shaky breaths. I couldn’t bring myself to tack on nothing’s okay, but it didn’t come out. If Kai really was dead—the thought was terrifying—then I couldn’t, at least not over the phone, tell Baekhyun I’d basically gotten their friend killed. “Can you call everyone else and tell them to go?”

Silence followed. Then, in a low voice, Baekhyun asked, “What happened?”

I wanted to throw up at the thought. “Not now. Just… hurry.”

I hung up first, not wanting to hear another reply. Wordlessly, I handed the phone to Jimin—he took it without another word—and sat down on the ground, energy completely gone. Behind me, I could hear Taehyung discussing something with the other boy, but it was all blurred words, nonsensical, and I held my head in my hands, feeling worse by the second because how utterly useless I’d become. The only thing Jimin had trusted me enough to do was phone the safehouse, and I couldn’t even hold a conversation with Baekhyun without wanted to literally throw up.

Still, even if feeling useless was horrible, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but sit there, as if sitting there motionless would change something. It didn’t work, obviously, and the most I did was make myself feel worse.

Jimin gave me approximately thirty more seconds before he tapped my shoulder. “We should go,” he said. “It’s still not safe out here, because the Darkling could send more people back if he has to. I’ll leave it to Jungkook and Taehyung to bring Kai back—it should be fine—and I’ll put a concealing spell before we go another way. We can’t risk anything with so little people and the Darkling still around.”

There was some sort of no-nonsense in his tone, the sort of causality that almost made her me and confused at the same time. Kai was possibly dead or close to leaving his life—the steadiness in Jimin’s voice didn’t make sense, not with my head spinning in such a way, not with what just happened. Nothing was comprehending. “We’re splitting up,” I got out. “But Kai—”  

“Yes,” Jimin replied. “We can’t afford an attack again right now, and if we don’t hurry, that’s exactly what might happen. And if that happens, it’ll be easier for us to get away than without Kai and less dangerous for them to get back if he’s not with you.”

That logic made sense, but I still stared at him. “But—”

“Let’s go.” He basically hauled me up, nearly pulling my arm out of the socket, but the pain didn’t click at all. I let myself be yanked to my feet, toppling as my vision doubled, and Jimin waited with his arms crossed, watching as I tried to stand upright. He didn’t help, didn’t move from where he was until I’d finally managed to still. Behind us, Taehyung and Jungkook had woven something entirely of magic, completely with blue threads mixed with green, and Kai rested on it. Almost like a magical stretcher of some sorts.

“We’ll be going the long way,” Jimin told them as he raised his hand. His aura, dark blue, blazed to life around him, and with a flick of his wrist, it had shrouded over the three of them as a slight mist. When the color finally faded, he nodded at them. “That should be enough glamour, he said. “Be careful. Get him to Yoongi as soon as you can. If Yixing’s there, the two of them can probably work together.”

Taehyung nodded. “Careful.”

Parting ways was so quick that I nearly couldn’t believe it. I watched their silhouettes until they had turned a corner and disappeared, still shaking from the aftermath. Blood stained my hands and my uniform, and the pain—skinned knees, skinned palms, burns—came back full force. I didn’t move, mind whirling with thoughts of Kai, the Darkling, then back to Kai. It was only when Jimin shook me forcefully that I looked up at him.

“I couldn’t find a pulse,” I repeated. “What if he really…”

“Then you worry about it later,” he replied. “For now, we’re trying to get back alive.”

I stared at my hands. “I could’ve killed him. Do you not get that?”

Something flashed across his face. I was not in the right state of mind to interpret it, but the expression was dark. Then he straightened, face clearing into a mask of complete blankness. “Yes, but if you kill yourself right now, what changes? I need to put glamor on you. People are going to question if you go out there with blood everywhere on you like that. What do you want to be? I can make you a hot blonde, or maybe someone taller, or maybe a boy if you’d like—”

“Jimin,” I snapped, angry and frustrated: at his calmness, at the whole situation, at myself. “Can you just… for once, can you stop? This isn’t some sort of joke. Just because you don’t care about Kai nor me, you don’t have to…” I trailed off, not sure of the words. It came out more venomous than I intended. “You don’t have to act like that.”

I wasn’t sure if I was actually blind from the tears or if Park Jimin actually looked hurt. Before he could say anything else—I was convinced that I didn’t want to hear it anyway, I had turned the other direction without listening to his next sentence, or even waiting for him to cast his spell. The Darkling wouldn’t be back, and I was pretty sure of that. And at the moment, walking onto the streets with blood on me was barely the biggest worry.

He remained still for a couple seconds longer before footsteps hurried after me. I didn’t look back until Jimin caught up with my pace, frowning slightly. The air darkened slightly with his aura, and when it faded, he’d finished the glamour wordlessly.

We continued like that until we reached the main street. Jimin halted me with an arm, and I looked towards him, about to protest. His face was completely serious, for the first time, no hint of mocking in his expression. “Before you ask,” he started, “The glamour just makes you look like yourself. No blood. And stay behind me. You don’t know the way to the safehouse.”

He