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Pain. Everywhere.

He could barely breath. His head was imploding. bursting with molten bricks that fell through his head like knives. His skin was ghostly pale. His stomach churned and twisted, convulging any which way. There was an ache in his legs...and his arms...and his neck, chest, back, collarbones, feet, hands, ankles, etc. In short, Do Kyungsoo was left in a state of vexatiously excrutiating pain, to which there seemed no end. His roommate, Hyunsik, was on the case fast. He'd roomed with Kyungsoo before, and knew very well about his condition. To the pained boy, Hyunsik was an oasis. He was a friend who was dependable to no end, even through years and years of trial.

He was quick to have two buckets—one filled with cold water, one empty— and a sponge at the ready, as well as aspirin, and the medication prescribed by Dr. Kim. Kyungsoo felt his stomach hurl. Hyunsik immediately registered this expression, and handed him the empty bucket. Minutes of cacking, gagging and choking later, Kyungsoo had finished his first shot. Hyunsik urged him to lie down. His shaky hands pressed damp towels into his friend's forehead.

So this is what dying feels like.

As he stared in the rapidly blurring ceiling, he began to contemplate on the feelings and sensations he was experiencing. Death. He'd always thought it would be like stabbing knives, jolts of indescribable pain, or maybe even drifting away from life, like a ship sailing to battle. Now that he was experiencing it, the Kyungsoo realised that it was nothing like that. It was both sharp and dull. It wasn't hard and fast, like it had seemed in all of the TV Shows and movies. It was drowning in yourself to the point of near suffocation, before being brought alive once more, only to have the process repeated. Like an endless torture, not hard and fast, but rather hard or fast.

Kyungsoo felt himself sinking, sinking, sinking. On numerous occasions, he forgot how to breathe in the most cruel and twisted way. His pupils were heavily dilated, and his limbs felt weak and heavy, as if they had morphed into led. His lungs didn't feel like lungs at all. Rather, they were quivering hummingbirds, unsteady in their flight, unable to move any longer. 

But as swiftly as the moment had arrived, it had vanished. His head pounded in the aftermath. His body screamed for more water. In all honesty, Kyungsoo couldn't tell if he was, in fact, glad that it hadn't been his death. In the earlier stages of the disease, the sick would be almost too thankful for his survival. It was one more day—one more moment—that he would live. But living was so bleak. Kyungsoo's world, formerly vibrant and bursting in reds, yellows, blues, greens and all colours in between, was rapidly fading into black, white and various shades of silver and gray. Tragic. It was utterly tragic.

And survival meant that it wasn't over yet. It would happen again, and again, and again. It was a vicious cycle that ended with death. The end could've been near or far, but it was somewhere, and nobody could even come close to predicting it. 

His friend was clearly in a state of relief. He knew it was coming, but hadn't expected it so soon. But to him, this wasn't anything short of miraculous. It was a shining moment. He'd saved someones live, and well, isn't that a good thing? Everything was going to be normal from then, for the remainder of the retreat. Of course, given Kyungsoo's condition, it was only expected that this event would repeat itself. But if you can do it once, can't you do it again?

(Those were the words of someone who didn't truly understand the weight of the situation)

Kyungsoo drifted off to sleep in this state. He dreamt of things he hadn't seen or felt in a long while. He dreamt in the colour he longed for, painting the vibrancy back in a way he wished he could for his real life. But he was doomed in that sense. There wasn't a chance in the world that the colour would come back. For, as much as Do Kyungsoo may have wanted to deny it, the colour was disappearing, and in the same way, so was he.

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The four composers of Block C sat together in Room 19, spilling ideas and concepts that had potential for the task.

Jongin glanced at the others, wondering how he had found himself with this job. He'd merely mentioned that he had a history of self-composition, and a heavy orchestral background, but not once had he raised his hand for the job. Still, he'd be lying if he were to say he wasn't enjoying the logical banter, and the intelligent counter-arguments that were thrown nonchalantly back and forth. 

"Well, many rock bands have been incorportating string sections into their work lately. Actually, it's been a long running trend. I guess that would be the easiest fusion of the two concepts," pitched a relatively tall, stoic faced boy. Oh Sehun was his name, and, contrary to his looks, he was younger than Jongin, and the other three in the room. He was a musical prodigy in the same way Chanyeol was. His greatest talent lied in the guitar, but he was also exceptionally good at both the electric and double bass. Not to mention his talents in all fields of percussion. It was unspoken, but known very well, that Sehun was to have an important part in incorportating rock into their performance.

"Well, yes. But they also judge on originality. You already mentioned that that's a common trend. Not to mention the fact that all of those rock songs are still easily identified as rock. We need our piece to have really strong orchestral influence, not just one section of it," countered Kris. Jongin was surprised to find that Kris was a composer, but his talent and eye for quality were unmistakeable. It took a really awkward apology, and chocolate that turned out to be expired, but Jongin's relationship with the tall blonde had been fixed. Of the four, Kris was most certainly the one who rejected most ideas, and provoked more insightful thought. Though they may have seen outwardly annoyed with this, it was unassailable that his constant rejections were the major cause for the improvements in ideas.

"Brass would be tricky to incorporate beside the type of darker rock we've been leaning towards, so I guess that'll require a bit more thought," commented the only male in the room who's eyes were kind. Kim Joonmyun was by far the most graceful and approachable of the four. If anybody wanted to ask about the progress of the song, it would be him that they would go to. The reason was simple, they were too afraid of Kris and Jongin, and Sehun was always busy with research studies, and instrument practice. Although Sehun was a kind and, quite frankly, adorable kid, his work ethic was extraordinary, and it was a commonly known fact that disturbing him while he was 'in the zone' was a crime punishable by freezing from the inside out.

"Well, the alto saxophone would be the best for the style we've chosen. I'm predicting we'll be using a full string section with four violin parts, two cello, two viola and one part for the two double basses. Percussion will require a mix of both tuned and untuned instruments, so I don't think we'll be needing a drum kit. Woodwind is pretty straightforward, just flutes and clarinets. That should suffice to create a well-balanced orchestral side to this piece, wouldn't you agree?" Jongin finally said.

They all exchanged content glances, before Kris gave the final nod. Relieved sighs and boisterous cheers of joy filled the room. It was the first agreement that they had come to as a group, and it was clear it was all going well. It didn't take long for it to become apparant that they needed a head composer. Everyone looked to Kris, as he was by far the most experienced. But the offer was rejected, shocking the other three.

"Well, who then?" Joonmyun asked, faint panic written into his features. 

"Jongin. I think Jongin should write the piece. After that, the piece will be handed to me, then to Joonmyun, and finally to Sehun. Actually, I think it may be important to have Sehun overlooking Jongin's writing when tackling the rock element, since that isn't particularly your background." Jongin looked distraught at his roommate's words. He couldn't be responsible for something as big as that! There was no way. He not only lacked in experience, but still lacked in the art of story telling. Much to his disapproval, Sehun and Joonmyun seemed extremely happy with the decision, and it was made final. Everyone else was pleased with the suggestion, and many words of encouragement were sent at him, but Jongin remained increasingly worried that his leadership would bring nothing but loss. And loss was equal to death. 

Or, at least to Jongin it was anyway. 

The three decided to stay in and get to know eachother, but Jongin's head as far too foggy to handle socialising. He could barely manage the great feat with a clear, confident head, there was no way he could socialise in the state he was in. But he thought that he might as well make somewhat of an effort to get to know these people. He wouldn't be here for for all too long.

"Did you hear? Lim Hyunsik's roommate had an episode last night! Everyone could hear screams of pain and crying! Well, at least I could," Sehun gosspied eagerly. There was a gasp from Joonmyun, and a small frown from Kris. Jongin, contrary to the others, had no idea what was going on.

"Rumor has it, he has the new disease! Isn't that scary? I feel so bad for the kid. What was his name again? It started with a K, right?" Sehun continued. Jongin's eyes widened. Could it be the person he was thinking of? Sehun quietly listed potential names, looking up as if the answer hung on the very tip of his tongue.

"Kangsoo? I think It's Kangsoo." Jongin released breath he didn't know he was holding. Why was he even bothered anyway? He barely knew the guy. It was most likely just potential sympathy. I mean, what else could it be. Still, he felt a nagging need to be somewhere else. So he politely excused himself to "Take a nighttime stroll." Although baffled at what he might want to see, they bid him farewell, and, pulling on a large maroon jacket, he stepped outside the door. 

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Kyungsoo preferred the sky at night, when the moon and stars dominated the sky.

He didn't have anything against the daylight, but there was a certain magic that only appeared when the sky was dark. For those deathly hours, it seemed like time would go on forever. Every beautiful moment seemed to be eternal. The light seemed so much brighter, and the world seemed like a better place. It was only during the nighttime that Kyungsoo allowed himself to believe that maybe miracles did happen. Maybe there was magic in the world. Maybe, just maybe, he would live through this.

It was for this reason he walked at nights. Although he walked in solitude, he never felt lonely. It was only once a year that he visited the grounds, and every year, he found that there was a certain beauty that grew every time. He would never notice it when the sun beat down on him, but when he walked, it all stood out like white chalk on a blackboard. 

It took a lot for Kyungsoo to gain permission to go outside. Hyunsik wasn't sure he was ready to let him see the world after the previous nights events. But after warm smiles, and extended reassurance, the worried friend allowed Kyungsoo to leave the room. He'd asked that Kyungsoo at least wear a sweater, and the latter happily complied.

He hadn't anticipated for the wind to be this strong that night, but it whipped around in lashes of ice cold fury, leaving the poor boy shivering in it's clutches. His sweater definitely wasn't enough to shield him, but he was too far gone now. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms securely around himself, shivering in the freezing cold. His body was warming up ever so slightly, when he felt a great push to his chest. 

Staggering backwards, his raised his eyeline to see the cause of this abrupt intrustion to his night. The moment his eyes met with the attacker, he was extremely thankful he hadn't had his eyes opened, for it was Kim Jongin who'd bumped into him. Whilst he was glad for the fact that he was about to begin another encounter with him, he had trouble reminding his heart to slow down. He knew very well that this could never progress from an innocent crush, his condition just wouldn't make it fair. But the sheer concern in Jongin's eyes was enough to allow him to forget once more.

"Oh! Kyungsoo-ssi! I'm so sorry, I was just really, really lost in thought and I didn't see you. I didn't mean anything of course. It wasn't intentional, I swear. It was a complete accident! You just didn't appear in my field of vision. Not that you're small, because you aren't. Well kind of but that's besides the point, I'm so sorry," Jongin sputtered, his words coming out in an incoherent mess of sounds and syllables. Kyungsoo just stared, wide eyed as always. He'd never seen Jongin act this...human. In fact, he didn't think anyone had. He smiled, because it seemed like the ice that surrounded everything related to Kim Jongin was beginning to melt. Although the coldness of his usual self was a wonderful sensation, this warmth was a beautiful turn.

"It's okay. I should've been paying better attention to where I was going anyway. It's just...the wind today," Kyungsoo trailed, feeling another large gust convulse around him. Jongin extended a hand and pulled Kyungsoo up. They continued walking as the conversation went on.

"You're cold? Here, take my jacket," Jongin offered. He really didn't know why he was acting so uncharacteristically kind. There was just something about the boy in front of him, who looked at at Jongin as if his face held all the stars in the sky.  As he handed the jacket to the doe-eyed boy, he felt himself trip over a rock on the path. His sense of balance was completely off, as he fell to the ground. Miraculously, Kyungsoo kept his feet firm on the ground, and held a tight grasp on the jacket. There was a thud, and a distinct rip. Neither of the sounds were promising. 

"Now, are you okay, Jongin-ssi?" Kyungsoo asked, half worried, yet somehow amused. 

"I might be, but I have a feeling my jacket isn't." They turned their attention to the piece of clothing at hand, and there was a large tear where the right sleeve met the rest of it. Kyungsoo gasped and Jongin silently cried out in annoyance. 

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen!" Kyungsoo was livid with worry, and a definite sense of embarrassment. He'd managed to make a fool of himself again. 

"Hey, I tripped over, not you. And, it'll still warm you up. Here." Jongin slid the torn jacket onto Kyungsoo's body, making sure to conceal his own coldness. 

"Thanks, Jongin-ssi. Uh...would you like to join me on my nighttime walk?" Kyungsoo asked. He received a smile, and a warm "Of course, I'd love to," in return. And so they walked around, away from all of the buildings, and down to more remote areas of the mountain. The trees towered over them, but they stuck to the path, which was now much harder to make out. The trees came to an abrupt stop, and they faced a cliffside clearing. There was a naturally recessed area of limestone of the cliff face, and Kyungsoo's eyes were fixated on it.

"We won't die up there, right?" Jongin asked, slightly skeptical of the safety of it.

"Hopefully. I didn't die last time," Kyungsoo replied, before waltzing over and climbing in. "Come on, I'm 90% sure we'll be alive by the end of it." The odds were good enough, so Jongin climbed in. It was about five metres by two in size. It's height was slightly less than the size of a standard ceiling, and somehow, it ended up feeling much more spacious than it had looked. 

It was when Jongin looked out at the view, that he realised how wonderful this place really was. The stars shone brightly in the sky, seeming close enough to be counted. The moon was bright, and all of the city could be seen. The suburbs could be pointedout individually. The horizons seemed endless. He looked over at the boy who'd brought him here, and in that moment, he could've sworn he felt something clench in his chest. 

"It's beautiful. Magnificent. Mesmerising. I haven't felt this alive since...since I got my violin." Jongin realised, right there and then, that he hadn't been in touch with the rest of the world for a long time. He hadn't taken in the scenery in this way, until it was everything he saw. 

"I agree. I love this spot because the view is amazing. Isn't it the most incomparably beautiful thing you've ever seen in your life?" Kyungsoo asked, his eyes lighting up in that way that they always did when he was passionate. 

"No. You're incomparably more beautiful," Jongin whispered. The innocent boy looked over at Jongin in disbelief. Had Jongin really just said what it sounded like. Kyungsoo's cheeks bloomed a light red. 

"J-Jongin-ssi..." He tried to muster a reply, but it just wouldn't come. Instead, he looked up at Jongin, stars in his eyes. The coffee-skinned boy felt a jolt of impulse, and took Kyungsoo's face into his hands. Bringing his face just millimetres from his, and closing his eyes. He took a deep breath, during which there was a tense pause, before he connected their lips. It was chaste, and soft, and it didn't take long for it to be returned. In that moment, Kyungsoo saw colour he'd been so cruelly deprived of. Bright passionate reds. Burning scarletts. 

When they pulled apart, Kyungsoo was completely absorbed in nothing but Jongin, Jongin, Jongin. He was so amazingly happy, he could've jumped and squealled for decades. But he remembered. Just like always, he remembered at the worst times. 

"I don't know what it feels like to have feelings for anything. I've never loved anyone, or anything apart from my family, and my violin. But...I know that for some reason, I've felt the need to do that since the moment you walked out of my hospital room. I...I think I like you. I'm about as sure that I like you, as I am that we're going to die up here. That's about...90%. And the only reason that isn't 100%, is because I'm completely out of my depth here, but I know that I really want to be by your side. So will you...try with me?" Jongin explained. He was unsure, and he knew he must've sounded like a little kid. But he had really never felt this way. He'd never wanted  to spend time with anyone. It'd never been this willing. He was hoping with much vigour. He felt almost desperate for Kyungsoo to say something, anything. 

"I really really want to Jongin." And Jongin shot to the stars and flew around like a comet.

"That's fantastic! That's—"

"But I can't," Kyungsoo finished, his eyes pointed downwards, unable to look at the source of the rapid heart palpitations echoing around his body at a cheetah's pace. Jongin's face visibly fell. 

"What? Why not? If it's parents I can deal with them. If your scared, don't be. I'm here for you,"

"It just wouldn't be fair Jongin. It wouldn't be fair..." Kyungsoo attempted. He really didn't want to have to tell Jongin. He didn't need more fake sympathy. He just wanted one person who saw him as Do Kyungsoo, and not 'sick Do Kyungsoo'. 

"Why wouldn't it be fair Soo? Why—" Jongin's questioning was silenced by a tortured scream. He looked over, and Kyungsoo was holding his head in agony, bending over his stomach. His eyes were glassy, and he looked almost ready to faint. 

"Kyung? What happened!" he shouted, frantic. 

"....Call....Hyunsik....medicine....." was all that Kyungsoo managed. And in that moment, it all became clear. Kyungsoo was Hyunsik's roommate. He was sick. He was definetely in some form of severe pain.

It all clicked.

Kyungsoo was the one with the Black Butterfly.

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A/N:

Hey there~ 
So I decided to get started on 
a) the angsty/sick/torture part involving Kyung's illness.
b) the kaisoo romance
I hope it wasn't too bleak for your tastes. 
Hope you enjoyed it!
Please comment/subscribe :D