o22

Lose-Lose Situations

Jinqiong couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so keen to avoid Jongdae, but apparently it was enough for her to attempt her door in place with a iron bar she found in the storage room because there was lock. It felt over the top even when she as much as looked in its direction, but for some stupid reason, all she could think was Jongdae and the way his expression lit up when she grudgingly agreed to help him, unfairly defined cheekbones and—

It took a long time for her to fall asleep, staring angrily at the ceiling, even more mad that Jongdae was just one room down and probably sleeping nicely on his desk, too exhausted to force himself to stay awake any longer. And as much as the thought bothered her—that there was just a wall between her and Kim Jongdae, a thin, flimsy wall through which at times she could hear his tantrums when he was frustrated—as much as she was angry at herself for thinking about him still for no reason (or maybe a stupid reason she’d rather not acknowledge), it was something about the fact that if the wall between disappeared, he’d be only a couple paces away that lulled Jinqiong to sleep. 

***

Morning brought an insistent knocking on Jinqiong’s door, and she had to lie still for a good five seconds before remembering that she had barred the door for some silly reason. It wasn’t as if someone was going to barge in and kill her. Jongdae was the least of her worries, too, because he could barely use a dagger. What had she been thinking when she had practically locked the door in such a way? 

Then she realized that she had managed to sleep nicely. It wasn’t the same as the empty oblivion that came after passing out after drinking too much alcohol. At any rate, it didn’t come hand in hand with the headache, and for once, Jinqiong felt well rested. Maybe doing such trivial work for Jongdae had finally exhausted her to that point; she didn’t know. 

Finally, the thought hit her that someone had been knocking on the door for quite a while, and she still hadn’t answer. Blinking sleep from her eyes, Jinqiong scrambled towards it, a bit embarrassed and already thinking about ways to explain why there was an iron bar over the door to act as a temporary lock or why she hadn’t answered for so long when the sound in itself was enough to wake up any normal person. 

She pulled open the door to come face to face to the person who’d been the reason for the iron bar, which made things harder and easier at the same time. Easier because with Jongdae, it was easier to play it off as if she didn’t want to explain it to him, as if she didn’t want anything to do with him. Harder because whatever she said could be told easily by him whether it were truth or lie. 

And then, like she did best, Jinqiong straightened and frowned at him. “What?” she asked. “Why were you knocking so hard on my door? I was trying to sleep.” 

Jongdae frowned slightly. “When did you leave last night? Did you give me a blanket or something?” 

Last night. Last night was a fluke, she wanted to say. It didn’t mean anything. I shouldn’t have gone to help you. That’s not… that’s not us. She was supposed to have found the alcohol. Jongdae was supposed to work through the night until his lamp burned so low and his eyes hurt from staring so hard at the papers and if they came across each other, they’d find something to argue about like usual. Sitting in amiable silence, doing work together and Jongdae falling asleep—that wasn’t right. It wasn’t something she could get used to. 

Jinqiong straightened. “Is this why you came to find me?” she asked instead. He would be able to tell if she were lying if she said no. 

Jongdae tilted his head. “What if I said it was? Would you believe me?” 

“I’d have to,” she replied drily, then gestured outside. “I’d also think you’re an absolute idiot. Who do you think I am?” 

Jongdae gave her one of his absolutely infuriating smiles that Jinqiong wanted to slap off his face every time. “I was also going to ask for my other pen back. I believe you took it.” 

She blinked. Jinqiong hadn’t remembered if she had, but one glance towards her own desk and made her realize that it was indeed there. 

She gave it one glance, marched over, snatched it up and all but shoved it to Jongdae. “I want to get more rest,” she told him pointedly. “Go back to doing whatever you’re doing. And don’t call me for help again.” 

He opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think twice about it before giving her a nod and disappearing towards his own room, no more words exchanged. Jinqiong waited until she could hear the click of his door before dragging herself back to her bed. 

She didn’t get more rest, though, but lay wide awake for another good hour or so. 

***

The seasickness did not improve, and Hei was so tired of it that she wanted to throw herself off the ship during the fourth morning after they left Chaoyun. 

Thankfully, Baekhyun wasn’t there to witness anything, so as she rinsed and combed out her hair, changed into more presentable clothes, and downed another glass of water, thoroughly irritated. By the time she got into the mess hall, there was already a slightly rowdy crowd gathered around Jongin as Junmyeon poured himself a cup of water quietly in the corner. 

Hei joined him. “Excited for Hell’s Gate?” she asked. 

Junmyeon smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t call it excited,” he replied. “Though I suppose a lot of things are better than waiting for something to happen.” 

Hei glanced at him. “We aren’t waiting right now.” 

“Maybe not exactly,” Junmyeon replied. “But you can feel the anticipation of everyone on the ship, can’t you?”
 

He was right, and Hei could feel it. There was a sort of nervousness around everyone even if they were acting normal, just a bit more energy than normal, most busying themselves in something just so they didn’t have to linger on the thoughts of Hell’s Gate. 

If she took a moment to think about it properly, it was terrifying. But between combat lessons with Baekhyun, planning with Jongdae and trying to both fight and hide the seasickness (Hei told herself she’d fine either Yixing or Yuxuan if it got any worse, but Yuxuan would possibly tell her brother and Yixing tell Baekhyun), there was no time to worry about Hell’s Gate. Until she sat down to actively ponder it, she could keep herself busy with other things that distracted from the fact that there was so much fear and uncertainty waiting. She’d left Hell’s Gate once, by a mix of skill of the crew and pure luck. To think it would hold again, especially with the second sector gone, was a dangerous hope. 

Hei looked at Junmyeon again. “Are you nervous?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “Slightly, but I don’t suppose it’s as bad as the first time.” 

Before she could ask anything else, the door to the mess hall swung open and Jinqiong shuffled inside. She gave the room a once over, shut the door behind her, and went around the table, most likely to deliberately avoid the group of people around Jongin—Chanyeol, Yixing and Kyungsoo who seemed to be trying to carry a conversation with Yuxuan over the rest of them. 

She raised an eyebrow at Jinqiong, who had made her way to them. It took Hei a moment to realize it was because she and Junmyeon were standing in front of the water and the cups, and she moved aside as Jinqiong poured herself a glass. 

“You look rested,” she told her sister, and Jinqiong made a face. “Seriously.” 

“Kim Jongdae bored me to sleep,” she grumbled under her breath. 

“Jongdae?” Hei echoed. 

She could almost swear Jinqiong’s face turned pink, but a moment later, Hei wasn’t sure anymore. She gave a shrug, through, raising her cup again and downing it in one go. “He wanted me to help him sort out his papers,” she muttered. “Then he fell asleep when he was doing whatever work he was supposed to be doing.” 

Junmyeon gave her a worried look. “Did he actually sleep?” 

Sleep. That actually sounded nice, but sleep came with the possibility of nausea, which was easier to control when she was awake and doing other things. Hei tried to shake it off, even though she genuinely felt exhausted. “Jongdae never sleeps,” she joked. 

Junmyeon groaned. “Someone’s going to have to tie him to a bed,” he grumbled. “Or he’ll tire himself out. We need him alive for Hell’s Gate more than anything else.” 

“He did sleep a fair bit,” Jinqiong offered. 

Junmyeon turned towards her. “Did he?” he asked, concern laced in his voice.

The conversation shifted to Jongdae and his sleeping habits. Still a bit awed that Junmyeon and Jinqiong got along so well with each other, she slipped away before either of them noticed and returned to her cabin. 

***

Jongdae attempted to find her in her cabin again, but he knocked and didn’t open the door on his own. Jinqiong pretended not to be there until he finally gave up and she heard his footsteps fade away, and she wondered just how believable it was that she wasn’t there because there weren’t many other places on the ship she could be. She spent the rest of the afternoon cooped up in the room, bored out of her mind until she ended up playing with the gem. 

It wasn’t until dinnertime rolled around that she realized she was, firstly, starving, and secondly had somehow managed to avoid Jongdae for a good chunk of the day, save what had happened in the morning. Just when she was deciding whether or not it was worth going up, there was a knock on her door. 

Jinqiong’s first response was to freeze before the thought came to her that it was probably Jongdae. She wondered if she could hide under her blankets if it meant avoid talking to him.

A couple seconds passed. She wondered if he had given up, though it was only a second later before he spoke. “You’re either there or you threw yourself off the ship, Jinqiong,” Jongdae called. “Open the door. I have food.” 

Her stomach growled unwelcomely at the mention of food. Jinqiong scowled. “I’ll go up myself,” she called, even though she really probably wouldn’t have. 

The door opened, and Jinqiong groaned. Jongdae stepped inside, holding a plate, lips pressed in an unhappy line. 

“Delivery,” he said in the dryest voice possible. “Look, who knows when you’d have gone up? By then, everything would either be finished or cold.” 

Jinqiong shrugged. “I’m not hungry.” 

Jongdae raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even need me to tell you that’s a lie. Your stomach probably can say it for you.” 

Her scowled deepened, but he was right, so she snatched the plate of food from him. “Whatever.” 

Jongdae invited himself inside the room. Jinqiong had long learned that it wasn’t that he was oblivious of the fact that she probably wanted him to leave but delighted in making her uncomfortable. There was nothing she could do but physically kick him out, but the food Kyungsoo had made smelled so good that she could make herself ignore Jongdae. Sitting down on the only chair available, she dug in. 

Jongdae leaned on the doorframe, arms folded. “You’ve avoided me all day,” he started a matter-of-factly. “I’m not stupid. What’s wrong?” 

Myself, was her first thought. You. Everything. Jinqiong almost hoped they would go back to the way they were before, never able to stay in agreement for more than three sentences. At least it was easier, then. This—what was this, exactly? She hadn’t been able to pinpoint it for the longest time, but now she was certain it was Jongdae acting like—no, not even acting like—it was Jongdae actually caring. She was used to him snapping at her to starve because it didn’t have anything with him anyway, not bringing food and insisting that she ate. She was used to him mocking her for drinking, not caring what the outcome was. He had always called out her bluff, but now it was less sardonic than it was… well, it was uncomfortable. It made her feel vulnerable. But it was obvious Jongdae didn’t exactly take delight in it either, like he used to. 

Why don’t you tell him? a voice whispered. Too scared? 

“Nothing’s wrong.” 

“You still expect me to believe that?” 

“No,” she said around a mouthful. “I expect you to leave me alone, because nothing’s wrong means that I don’t want to talk about it, especially not to you.” 

She could swear hurt flashed across his face before it changed into anger. “Will you stop that?” Jongdae snapped back, and Jinqiong paused mid-swallow. “People care about you, but all you do is push them away again and again. Why?” 

She looked up at him. “Because I don’t want them to care.” 

Jinqiong wasn’t excepting Jongdae to actually move, but he took a step, hesitated, and then stepped in front of her. “Tell me you mean that,” he started in a low, angry voice. She had definitely managed to tick him off completely. “Look at me right now and tell me you’re not lying right now.” 

“And what if I am?” 

He seemed to have regained control, because Jongdae gave her a grim smile. “If you are lying, then I’m staying.” 

She held his gaze for a long, long time. There was no point. He could tell either way. 

Finally, when it all seemed to be too much, she turned her gaze back to her food and dug the chopsticks in again. “Do you just find me