Surprisingly, on the day of the tutor, Sanghyuk doesn’t wake up feeling as nervous as he expected himself to be. Hongbin occupies him during breakfast with a lot of small talk, and for once, he feels like he’s regaining the average man’s ability to hold a normal conversation. The words that come out of his mouth still feel weird and unnatural, but he grasps hidden jokes more easily now. Remembers to verbalize instead of nodding his head, remembers to correctly identify the tone of Hongbin’s voice.

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory takes him all the way to lunch and he almost goes to pick out another book (at Hongbin’s suggestion) when he realizes that he only has an hour or so before the knock on the door comes. Then the fear starts to set in. 

He puts on a another jacket on top of his sweater to make his body remember that he’s in Hongbin’s house and not at Sir’s where he is never allowed to wear anything despite the temperature. He hides under his sheets and all his pillows until Hongbin calls him out for lunch.

Hongbin half-smiles with how Sanghyuk looks like he’s being swallowed by the oversized garments – even his track pants are kind of dragging on the floor. But it makes him look smaller, nonetheless, and that sparks an odd anxiety in Hongbin’s stomach.

Sanghyuk tries to eat, he really does, because with the safety of the house and the positive strength of Hongbin behind him 24/7, he finally realizes just how much his body is suffering from the effects of starvation. His legs get sore easily, his joints feel a lot like creaky hinges, and his stomach acid after every meal could kill. His body is giving out on him and so he allows himself to gain a little bit more weight. But the nerves get to him and by the last mouthful, Sanghyuk is bolting to the toilet and has to watch his food being purged out of his stomach against his will.

He is honestly more tired and scared of puking than he is watching himself gain.

Sanghyuk allows a hand to move in steady, constant circles on his back (he doesn’t remember who at first but slowly starts to join the pieces – none of his Sirs ever did anything so kind for him) and Hongbin feels sick himself as his fingers rub over the pebbles of Sanghyuk’s spine, the distinct bones of his chest. It hurts even more now when he can feel the bones.

***

Sanghyuk has just managed to keep himself as steady as possible when the doorbell rings. As always, he makes himself invisible. Sanghyuk is good at hiding and making himself seem smaller than he actually is.

“Hey! Oh my god, Hongbin! Look at my hands!” The tutor stretches out his palms as soon as the door opens. “Look!”

Hongbin holds the tutors’ hands to get a closer look. "What the hell? What are those?”

“I got Carpal Tunnel surgery dude! How cool is that?” The tutor smirks.

“What for?” Hongbin runs his finger along the scars.

“Practiced the guitar too much apparently.”

“You’re a crazy bastard, you know that right?”     

Hongbin gets flicked on the forehead. “Not any less crazy than you.”

“Can you even pick up a pen?” Hongbin asks incredulously. “How are you going to tutor?”  

“I can write, man, don’t worry! So like, how have you been, dude?”           

“Same old, same old. You remember Hakyeon hyung?” Hongbin leans slightly on the doorframe, staring intently into the tutor’s eyes.  

“Of course, of course! The business school hyung…?”

Hongbin nods. “The model company is his now. So technically he’s my boss.”

“Ah.” The tutor pulls off his beanie to reveal a head of bright orange. “So, where’s my student?”

“Wow. Still not over the dyed hair phase?” Hongbin laughs and steps away from the doorframe, taking the tutor’s jacket.

“Nah. Not a phase at all, clearly.” The tutor peeks over Hongbin’s shoulder. “Oh! Hello! Are you Sanghyuk?”

“Y – Yeah,” Sanghyuk stutters and his body flares with an indescribable humiliation. “N – Nice to meet you.”

The tutor waves. “Nice to meet you! I’m Wonshik.”                                 

It’s a good thing Wonshik’s hair is as bright as his personality. Any other hair colour less bright would probably look out-of-place and odd. He honestly doesn’t seem so much of a tutor than Sanghyuk seems a student.

Wonshik doesn't shake Sanghyuk's hand until Sanghyuk initiates it - which makes him feel far safer that he would ever have expected. Hongbin gets the both of them settled in Sanghyuk's room and finally leaves when the tutor starts to complain about all his fussing. 

It's a quiet silence before Wonshik starts the conversation with, “Okay, let’s start then. First things first, please call me hyung. Secondly, you can drop formalities. Thirdly, I’m totally chill with class schedules and everything, you know. Just let me know when you want lessons a few days in advance, or if you want to cancel lessons, and I’ll do it. I – um – Hongbin talked to me a little bit about you, so I totally understand if you needa bolt or anything. I am super open to everything.”

Sanghyuk just listens, then realizing that Wonshik is waiting for an answer, gives a hesitant nod.            

“Yup! So,” Wonshik pulls out a file bursting with documents. “I’m going to let you look at a couple of subjects and you can tell me which one seems interesting. We won’t start on formal lessons just yet, today I’m going to get a gauge of your abilities and interests.”

A piece of paper is placed haphazardly on the table in front of him, a string of subjects lined up from the start of the paper to the end.

Korean. English. Physics. Biology. Chemistry. Earth Science Social Studies: History of Korea, Geography of Korea, Geography of the world, History of Eastern Asia, World History, Law and Politics, Society and Culture, Economics. Mathematics. Foreign Language.

“See anything you like?” Wonshik tries. “There’s no wrong answer.”

Sanghyuk looks up. “Um – H – How many subjects can I choose?”

“We can try out as many as you want today, just to see if you like the subject.” Wonshik hands Sanghyuk a pen. “Just circle the ones you’re interested in.”

Korean. Biology. Chemistry. Social Studies: Geography of Korea, Economics. Mathematics.

Wonshik smiles approvingly. “Is that all?”

Sanghyuk nods.                                     

The tutor checks through the list “Do you like math?”

Sanghyuk whispers, “Yeah. I think so. H – Hyung,”  

“Okay. Let’s start with that, then.” Wonshik pulls out his laptop and a paper bag. “By the way, do you want cookies?”

***

By the time they are done, Sanghyuk feels like a totally different person. There’s a weird warmth in his chest that has never been there and Sanghyuk briefly wonders if that’s what freedom feels like. Wonshik hyung was amazing beyond words. He’s careful with his hands – never touches Sanghyuk, his words, his actions. He helps Sanghyuk with everything he can’t manage in a way that doesn’t make Sanghyuk feel more pathetic and stupid than he already is.

The lesson ends after four hours and both Sanghyuk and Wonshik both agree that it lasted longer than either of them had expected without Sanghyuk dissociating or thinking about the bad things at all. He was alone with Wonshik and most importantly, safe, for four whole hours. It feels amazing and he is so… awake with the information in his head – with basic algebra and cell parts and economics – that he’s actually looking forward to the next session.

“So how was it?” Hongbin asks right after Wonshik leaves (the tutor leaves him the rest of the chocolate chip cookies and promises him some more food the next time round. The cookies tasted like heaven.).

“I – um – I – It’s… hard to say it? Because I’d have to – I’d have to pick a word.” Sanghyuk looks up. "Sorry." 

Hongbin nods in a way that is a little bit condescending, and Sanghyuk feels a pinprick of shame. Hongbin does understand, though, that after what Sanghyuk has been through, it must be hard to make a decision on his own, hard to do something the exact opposite of following orders.

“It's okay. But it was good right?”

Sanghyuk nods, and allows himself to smile as wide as he ever does. Hongbin gives a small sigh of relief, a tiny sound of approval.

***

He is lying down. The ceiling is high above him, he can’t see the end. Hs back is touching metal and when he tries to move, he realizes that he’s restrained so tight that it’s quite nearly impossible for him to budge. Jooncheol Sir enters his vision and he starts to shake so hard that he can hear the metal underneath him tremble, the clanking of the restraints.

 But no – no Sanghyuk don’t make a sound, not now, not now, not – a whimper escapes from him anyway. Jooncheol Sir’s hands comes down on his left cheek. Sanghyuk forces himself to still, but his body cannot seem to stop shaking. Cannot seem to calm himself down.

There is the scraping of knives and Sanghyuk bites down on his lip so hard that he has to constantly swallow blood. He can feel his heart going faster and faster. His breaths sound laboured, heavy, too fast. Way too fast. Hyperventilating. Not now. Not – Please. Breathe. Please.

A streak of pain bursts in his chest. He can feel the blood – the blood is pooling beneath him – and it hurts. Hurts. Hurts. Hurts. More than usual. Unrelenting. He can feel his skin splitting open under the tip of the knife. He needs to pass out now – God – The pain is too much – He has to pass out now. Has to – He’s not going to survive this much pain –

He finally blacks out on the third pull of the knife  but Jooncheol Sir presses a fistful of salt in his wounds, right between the crevices of his flesh, and he comes right back. He’s crying, and he’s begging, and he’s trying so hard not to scream but it’s burning – it’s everywhere – the pain never stops and – the blood – he’s – he’s –

Becoming hysterical. Crazy. Insane. He’s jerking and pulling even though fresh blood spills out every time he moves – he can feel it gathering underneath him, a sticky, warm liquid beneath his back. It occurs to him that at some point he pukes from the pain but Jooncheol Sir never stops. Just rougly shoves his head to the side so he doesn’t choke on his own vomit like an animal – and –

The restraints are gone.

“Please, please, please, please,” Sanghyuk pushes the shadow above him away with his fists and with as much strength he can muster but it is still there. The fear is still throbbing. Burning in his stomach. “Please, I’ll be good, I’ll be – I’ll – Please stop, please. Please. Please. I don’t want to – Please –”

His wrists are being grabbed again. Tight hold, body weight. Pain.

“No, no, no, nonono, please. Please, I’ve been good, I,” Sanghyuk gives up, lets the energy drain out of him. It’ll be easier if he doesn’t fight, but he can’t stop crying. “Please let go of me. Please. I know – I get it, I know – I’ll be a good boy –”

Someone is screaming at him. Someone – He needs to continue to beg them not to hurt him – It’s too much pain, too much blood, he’s not going to survive –

“-ANGHYUK!”

He’s in a deep load of trouble. He just lays there, and he cries, and cries, and he doesn’t move, not even when the weight above him moves away.

“Shh, shh. Sanghyuk?” The person asks and a strangled sound escapes from his too-tight throat. “It’s Hongbin.”

He lets himself move to wipe at his eyes, even though he can’t stop crying and he sees the face of a man that is kind, compassionate, and everything that Jooncheol Sir was not.

But he continues to cry as Hongbin lays his head down on his lap and through his hair.