The Heaven That Left Me

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Tao’s legs and arms spun like a whirlwind, landing hits all over the poor punching bag. If the punching bag had been a human, they would’ve had dozens of broken bones and probably been bleeding or unconscious.

He’d taken Hansol’s advice, much to Kris’ chagrin, and started doing Wushu again.

His training was much lighter than it had been, no special tricks or moves that he was known for – just simple exercises to keep himself healthy and his body active.

The last thing Tao wanted was to be weak again, because to him, being weak meant he was unable to protect the things he held the closet to his heart. And now, sitting on top of the things he wanted to protect, was a tiny brunette girl with a small, rare smile and too much emotion for her own good.

Seo Jiyoon.

It’d started off as an agreement for the two of them to regain the hope in humanity and life that had been stolen from them as they spiraled downwards.

Tao supposed it was fate then, that he met Jiyoon at the very bottom of everything he could’ve been, where she was lost, alone, and scared.

He liked to think that they saved each other.

Before he met Jiyoon, Tao had been ready to give up and die. He had no hope left of being able to fight off his disease, protect himself from the coming shadow that wore a dark hood to ferry souls to the other side. He wanted to live so badly, but he was so tired of trying to be strong when in actuality, he was too cowardly to fight back.

When he first met Jiyoon, Tao had been afraid of death.

And then, there was Jiyoon herself, the girl who had embraced death as an old friend. She welcomed the shadow with open arms. She was prepared to give up everything, simply because she felt as if living no longer held any meaning.

He still remembered something that he said to her.

He remembered that she’d been terrified after she woke, her arms permanently scarred, wrapped in bloodstained bandages. She’d been scared, but defeated at the same time. Like she was tired.

He’d seen it in her eyes, how tired she looked. How sad, how pained.

It nearly killed him to see that.

“I don’t care about your scars, Jiyoon. They’re a part of you now, and I will accept every part of you. Even the bad parts.”

He’d whispered those words against her hair as he held onto her, her hands curled into fists over the fabric of his shirt.

That was when, he’d later realized, that he really knew how much she meant to him. That was when he knew how much it’d destroy him inside to have to see her buried six feet under when she was still so young.

And that was when he realized that he wasn’t ready to give up.

Tao was still only nineteen. He was barely an adult, not even legal drinking age in the eyes of the law. He was still a high school student, who loved his friends, designer brands, and stupid action movies.

Tao had yet to graduate. He had yet to get a job or decide what he wanted to do with his life. He had yet to get married, have kids, and raise a family. He had yet to watch as his children grew and got older.

He had yet to die an old man with a smile on his face and no regrets in his weak heart.

There was still so much to do.

Life was short as it was, and Tao was ready to let his heart cut his life short. He didn’t blame his heart, not at all. If his entire body was as weak as his heart, he would’ve wanted to give up, too.

But Tao wasn’t weak.

He was an athlete, he was supposed to be strong.

Tao had steeled himself after realizing just how much life truly meant to him. He set his mind to it and told himself, “You are not allowed to give up. You are going to live for yourself and for Jiyoon.”

Living for someone else was a strange idea.

Yes, Tao loved Jiyoon, but living for her when they’d only known each other for a few months at most was strange to Tao, who had never loved a girl in his entire life.

The closest he’d gotten was his love for Kris, who was like his brother.

But what do you call a person who you’re living for?

What was an appropriate title for the man that saved her life?

Crush? Fling? Temporary boyfriend?

None of those seemed to fit for Jiyoon to use to describe Tao. None of them fit at all. Tao wasn’t her crush, her fling, or her temporary boyfriend, because all of them seemed too flighty, too mundane to be used for him.

Tao had saved her life.

Without him, she would’ve given up, tried again and again to kill herself.

But with him, Jiyoon was slowly recovering. She was doing her best to be more positive, to find