This is not a new oneshot. For more information, please refer to THIS BLOG.

Note: Companion piece/sequel to He Did It All For You (Never Question Why)
_________________________________________________________________________________

The sight of Wufan’s body was awful.

Just one last time, I went back to his apartment. To try to plead with Wufan. He didn’t have to do this. He really didn’t. We could get him help, he could stay for a while in a psychiatric ward somewhere.

As soon as I entered the apartment (which was unlocked), I immediately noticed the knife in the wall was gone. My heart started pounding a little faster, and I tried so hard not to run when I checked the kitchen… the bathroom… and finally, with heavy dread-filled steps, the bedroom.

I took several deep, shaky breaths before I opened the bedroom door.

The smell of copper hit my nose instantly, and I just kind of froze when my eyes finally landed on Wufan’s body.

He was so, so pale. And I knew without even trying that if I put my fingers to Wufan's neck, I wouldn’t feel a pulse. Not even a flicker of life. Wufan was stone cold dead. That much was crystal clear.

I found myself oddly unable to feel a thing.

I didn’t remember calling emergency services, but they were suddenly there. They shined a light in my eyes, seeing how responsive my pupils were, asking me questions, which I couldn't even hear being asked. Someone said something about shock, and I felt the prick of a needle in my arm.

I woke up in a hospital bed, alone and disoriented. I tried to get out of bed, but before I could, a nurse came in and explained that I had been given a tranquilizer to help me calm down. Calm down? Why would--

Just like that, the memories of Wufan’s body popped into mind, and I felt the odd sense of no feeling settle over me again. I made sure to nod at all the right places, and mechanically signed the release forms I was required to sign before I got dressed and left the hospital.

I wondered absentmindedly if Wufan’s parents had been informed of his death, and unlocked my phone. I dialed the number that was so familiar to me, and when Wufan’s mother answered the phone, I knew instantly that they’d been told. Her voice was rough, like she’d been crying, and she sniffled into the phone often. I couldn’t feel anything.

    “Mrs. Wu… I’m so sorry,” I frowned deeply when I heard how emotionless and cold I sounded. Almost like I was tired, but I felt extremely well-rested. Wufan’s mother sobbed loudly when she heard my voice.

    “Huang Zitao, how could you let this happen?! You were supposed to be there for him,” my heart stopped, and I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. I clutched my chest, where I know I should've been feeling pain. Should've been, but wasn’t.

    “I’m sorry,” I whispered before I hung up. I hurried back to my apartment, where I sat alone, occasionally having instances of not being able to breathe.

Wufan’s parents flew from Canada to Korea to have the funeral, and I met them at the airport. Even though Wufan’s mother had yelled at me earlier, I loved her as I had loved my own mother when she was alive. When she saw me standing there waiting for her and her husband, her eyes filled with tears and she ran to embrace me.

I was more than a little disconcerted when I still couldn’t feel anything.

The funeral was a only few days later, but those few days felt like weeks. Wufan looked better than the last time I had seen him, but the image was ruined by earlier memories of gashed arms and blood and vomit everywhere.

Surely, I thought, seeing Wufan in his coffin would bring tears, and pain. But no. All I felt was a terrible sense of indifference, and maybe a hint of acceptance that Wufan was really gone. Gone for good.

I desperately wished I could feel. I wanted to feel bothered that people were shooting me nasty looks, that people were whispering to each other, wondering if I even cared that Wufan was dead.

Instead, I turned to them with empty eyes, and tried to muster up some kind of emotion to put in my voice only to find that I couldn’t. I couldn’t even sound emotional. I shook my head, and wanted to explain, but I knew no one would understand.

Long after the funeral, I stood in front of Wufan’s headstone in the graveyard and promised to keep my promise. If, that is, I ever regain the ability to feel.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Tbh, I like this version much better than the original.

~~

Til next time, loves. ^o~