Yixing-centric, Yixing/Chorong, R, 2.6k, gen, from prompt no. 13 Heaven and/or Hell

For eternalspring & ming-chan 

Warning: bullying, brief suicidal thoughts, mental disorder, brief ual acts, potential character’s death… (Wow this sounds intense – it’s really not .___.)

(I don't know if you guys want to read something like this or not, if you prefer fluffy and PG things let me know, esp you ming cause I don't know what's your preference & you didn't exactly request for layrong)

Yixing woke up in a sudden, startled by the shouting outside his room. His eyes immediately flickered to the small alarm clock on his desk; it’s 7 in the morning. Two hours of sleep.

Sitting up, he felt the throb in his head and Yixing closed his eyes, irritated, massaging his temple to lessen the pain. It’s no use trying to go back to sleep, not with the loud quarrel from his parents. He glared at the clock; wasn’t it too early in the morning? Did they ever stop arguing?

He took his time in the shower in his attempt to block out the never ending dispute. Yixing had long stopped trying tounderstand.

It was already quiet when he walked pass the dining room, but it probably meant his father had already hit his mother who’s crying quietly now – because seeing her cry just made his father even more upset. There’s a cup of ramen on the table; it was supposed to be his breakfast. The sight angered him even more, and Yixing slammed the door close on his way out, the cup of ramen on the dining table remained untouched.

***

“Here, Hyungnim,” a junior that Yixing didn’t bother to know the name handed a wallet to him politely, avoiding eye contact at all cost by lowering his head. Yixing took it, and without looking he passed it to Junmyeon who stood beside him – the position of the second in command.

Junmyeon opened the wallet, cocking an eyebrow after. “What is this? This is not enough. Do you want your seniors to starve?” He pulled out the money inside and threw the wallet to the ground.

The junior widened his eyes and he whirled on his heels, facing another junior – the owner of the wallet. “Yah, you hear Sunbaenim! Empty your pocket!”

“B-But, t-that’s all I h-have…,” the bullied stammered, trying to take a step backward but he’s surrounded, in the small alley near the school.

“Are you crazy? Don’t lie!” the junior slapped the side of his head, hard.

Yixing narrowed his eyes. “You,” and just with that one word, all the juniors flinched, even his so-called friends turned their heads to him warily. Junmyeon spared him a glance but did nothing, because that’s the wisest thing to do if you’re dealing with Zhang Yixing. His nasty temper was already known by the whole school, even the teachers were intimidated by him.

He walked to his junior, pulling him back harshly, arm wrapped around his shoulder. ‘Bang Minsoo’ was on his nametag. Yixing lowered his head to say his words next to Minsoo’s ear, “You… Do you want to die?” he landed a punch on Minsoo’s side. “Don’t hit the head, you useless idiot!” Yixing shouted as he threw another punch, and the junior hunched back, holding the pain. “If you want to hit… Hit him like this!” He kneed Minsoo, still on the stomach, making him fall to the ground with a pained groan.

No one said anything until Yixing nodded to Minsoo, and then Minsoo’s friends scrambled to help him. Now Yixing turned to their victim, and he flinched wildly, fear in his eyes.

“Open you bag,” Yixing said quietly.

“S-Sunbaenim, please, I-I don’t h-have—”

“Did I tell you to speak?!” he kicked the boy on his leg – he landed on his knees. “Open your ing bag while I’m being nice, ! Open his bag!” Yixing ordered the other juniors who more than eager to comply, forcing the boy to let go of his bag.

They zipped down his backpack and turned it upside down, emptying it. Books and more books fell over with a thud, along with three big medicine bottles. One rolled right to Junmyeon’s foot and he bent down to pick it.

“… Sleeping pills,” Junmyeon said after reading the labels. He checked the contains, “… Lots of them.”

“This one too, Hyungnim,” another junior who picked the other bottle said.

“… Huh,” Yixing went back to the bullied. “Sleeping pills… What are you going to do with them? Do you want to die?”

“I-I-I…,” his body’s shaking uncontrollably as Yixing moved closer. “P-P-Plea-Please…”

“What?” Just one push from Yixing and his shoulder met the dirty asphalt. “Please, what?! Tell me, what are you asking for? You want to kill yourself?” Yixing kicked him and he curled up instinctively, trying to protect himself. “Too coward to live, huh?! It’s better to take a shortcut?!” Repeated kicks, merciless, but never on the face – because with a bruise on the face, people would know.

“… Yixing,” Junmyeon said cautiously, stopping him from crossing the line, and Yixing turned to him with a deathly glare. He kept his composure, holding Yixing’s gaze. Yixing scoffed, finally leaving the bullied alone. His uniform was dirty, marks of Yixing’s soles all over it, and it seemed that he’s crying.

“Give me those,” Yixing pointed at the bottles – his juniors handed them to him in a speed of light before Yixing snapped again. He put them all in his bag and then he walked away, leaving his juniors to clean up after him.

Junmyeon was the only who dared to follow him. “What are you going to do with the pills?” he asked, keeping a respectable distance from Yixing.

“What, are you worried that I’m going to use them?” he glanced from the corner of his eyes to Junmyeon, and Junmyeon kept his silence. Yixing chuckled darkly, “If I want to kill myself, do you think I’ll use ing pills? Won’t it be cooler if I jump from a roof?” Junmyeon made no comment. He continued. “Then at least I’ll get to fly once before I die.” 

***

Frankly, Yixing had forgotten about the pills, he just threw them away into his closet behind his sweatshirts when he went home. But then one day his mother discovered them when she’s folding his clothes.

She kept on crying, asking why he’s doing this – clearly misunderstood the reason why the pills were there, begging for Yixing to told her what’s the problem, and Yixing was so frustrated and angry at her he started to shout and throw things. His father was even angrier, blaming his mother and starting to hit her again, and it made Yixing yelled back at him. He received a hard blow on his face because of that.

In the end, his parents took him to a therapist. They said Yixing had an anger management issue, serious enough that he could hurt people around him – the therapist had talked with his teachers and the school’s nurse too.

And that’s how Yixing ended up in a hell-hole, an institute providing rehabilitation for teens in need. All Yixing needed was stabbing someone to death for throwing him inside the stupid place, and that’s quite high in the things they didn’t allow him to do.

***

It’s only his fourth day at the institute but Yixing already knew that this would be the activity he loathed the most.

This was a group talk, which supposed to help. Yixing didn’t know – and didn’t want to find out – how talking about his parents could help lessen the want to kill someone. If anything, it fueled the want. Now he wanted to strangle every nurse and helper in the institute.

“Yixing, since you’re new here, why don’t you introduce yourself?” the nurse who responsible for the group sharing directed his question to Yixing and Yixing could feel all eyes in the room on him.

For a moment Yixing contemplated to just jump on the man and punch the life out of him, but he already had a trouble on the first day for refusing treatment, and being sedated and locked in was not a pleasant experience. He missed his favorite variety show.

“Why don’t you kiss my instead,” Yixing said directly to the man in his native language. The man stared at him confusedly, probably noticing that it’s not Yixing’s name he just said, and he checked his list, confirming Yixing’s name on it. Yixing almost wanted to smile. Almost.

What Yixing didn’t anticipate was a quiet giggle from someone else in the room.

He turned his head and locked eyes with a girl across the room, looking younger than himself, with long brown hair and a pretty small face.

“What is it, Chorong?” the nurse turned his attention to the girl, and the girl shook her head, covering to stifle more giggles. Impatiently, he turned back to Yixing. “… Yixing, I’m afraid your friends here don’t know Chinese, why don’t you speak in Korean? You’re fluent, right? You’ve been here for five years.”

Smirking, Yixing just said, “I’ll think about it if you my .” And it sent Chorong to burst out laughing. The nurse was visibly upset but he decided to leave Yixing alone.

Yixing leaned back on his chair, feeling oddly satisfied with himself.

***

Yixing looked down at the food on the counter with distaste, he knew they tasted like cardboard but he’s starving, so in the end he filled his tray with whatever he deemed edible. The dining room resembled a school’s canteen, but on school canteens you didn’t have nurses standing by, making sure everyone’s eating in order. Yixing remembered briefly about the institution promising to be ‘the second home’ for the patients, but he thought it resembled jail more than a home. Then again, his supposed-to-be home was ty as hell so this place was hardly worse.

He scanned the room with disinterest, but then his eyes landed on a familiar figure, sitting alone on a table near the window. She didn’t look like an outcast, eating happily by herself, and by the look of it, she’s even humming while chewing her food.

Yixing approached her.

Chorong looked up when Yixing put his tray in front of her, and her smile got wider and brighter. “Hi! Hello! We meet again!”

Yixing just raised his eyebrows as a reply, but it didn’t falter her spirit as the smile was still there. “… So you speak Mandarin?” he finally asked.

“Only a little but enough to understand what people said!” Chorong answered, the smile never faded, decorating her pretty face even more. Yixing was alarmed with it, but he decided to push it to the back of his mind. She switched to Korean, “My name’s Chorong, so do I need to your to get your name?”

It made Yixing snorted. “I won’t say no to that, but it’s Yixing.”

“Yixing…,” Chorong tested the name before she grinned again, very innocently, contrary to what she suggested after. “Next time, then!”

That next time ended up right after lunch, Chorong pulling him to sneak away from the nurses, leading him to a secluded bathroom at the end of the hallway. There’s no hesitation at all in her actions, she’s eager, even, giggling while pushing Yixing to sit on the closet, dropping down to her knees the very next second. There’s a fleeting thought on Yixing’s part that it’s not her first time doing something like this.

Not that Yixing minded, especially when Chorong rubbed him over his trousers until he’s hard, smiling brightly to him that made Yixing leaning down to capture her lips.

He came with a low moan ten minutes later, and Chorong him dry with a teasing look on her eyes.

After they cleaned up, Chorong kissed him again and Yixing let her, though he winced a little at the salty taste of himself on her tongue. “Come to my room later,” Chorong whispered. “My room is number three—” and she leaned closer, whispering the rest of her room’s number to Yixing’s ear. She's in the same floor with him.

***

Maybe it was the medicine they gave him – something to improve his mood, they said – but Yixing felt less angry the past weeks. He still got irritated over dumb people, but his first instinct was not to punch them anymore. The doctor said he made a good improvement. Maybe it’s the medicine. Maybe it’s the therapy. Maybe it’s Chorong’s lips on his own at night, on his neck, on his chest, on his skin.

They kept on sneaking around to meet, and it’s almost like Chorong knew the building like the back of her hand – she just knew the right time and place to be. She must had been in the residence for quite a while. Yixing didn’t ask. She didn’t say.

They didn’t converse because Yixing didn’t talk, having more interest at exploring her body, marking her skin with his marks. But Chorong did – she talked endlessly, and Yixing didn’t particularly get annoyed with her babbling. It’s not that he listened to all the things that she said, he just tolerated her enough to let her did what she wanted. 

Chorong talked about dreams, about hopes and wishes, about ideas and plans, big plans, theories and opinions, and at times Yixing did listen to her, the nagging feeling about there’s something wrong came back.

But of course there’s something wrong with them – or else they would be outside right now, walking among normal people, instead of being locked up in a second home.

***

That day, Yixing didn’t see Chorong at the dining room. He heard another patient mentioned about Chorong had an episode earlier in the morning. He continued his lunch, undisturbed with the news. They’re not friends, after all. But the food tasted like last week's leftover and Yixing dumped the rest of his food to the trash bin, leaving the dining room to watch the TV in the common room instead.

When Chorong came to his room later that night, her eyes were red and bleary, and her smile was dimmer than usual, still Yixing followed her when she asked him too – to the rooftop, this time. Yixing pulled his hoodie up, frowning at the chilly wind up there.

Chorong wasn’t talking like she usually did, only quiet murmurs and mumbles that Yixing didn’t quite catch. She also didn’t touch him, keeping a small gap between her shoulder and Yixing’s when they sat next to each other – any other day and Yixing wouldn’t still have his pants on by now.

It's cold and Yixing almost reached out for Chorong. But he didn't.

“Yixing, do you believe in afterlife?” out of the blue, quietly, she asked, standing up and walking around.

“No,” Yixing replied without thinking, eyes never leaving her movements. She hadn't look at him ever since.

“… Why not…?”

“Because it’ll be too cruel, that we have to live endlessly,” Yixing said, shoving his hands to the pocket of his hoodie. “Isn’t it enough, everything that we have to endure in this life? I’d rather rest forever.”

“But… what about… happily ever after?” Chorong asked again, furrowing her eyebrows in worry.

Yixing scoffed. “You believe in heaven?”

“Think about it, you said it yourself, we endure so much in this life. Shouldn’t there be a reward? I think we just need to find the right way out,” Chorong continued, nodding to herself as she walked to the edge of the rooftop. She gazed down to the night, emptiness on her eyes. “… Then we will fly to heaven.”  

Yixing kept his silence, simply staring at Chorong's back.

“... Yixing. What do you think is the best way to die?” 

***

When the morning came, the space on Yixing’s bed next to him was empty and cold. Chorong must had left early at dawn.

He was rubbing his eyes awake when he noticed the commotion outside his room. Curiosity won and Yixing walked out, only to found a lot of patients loitering around in the hallway, a strange atmosphere in the air with the whispers happened.

“… jumped from the roof…”

“… Will they close the place?”

“How can they let something like this happened…?”

A boy walked right in front of him and Yixing grabbed his arm to stop him. “What happened?”

The boy looked at Yixing with a frown, but he answered the question anyway. “They said someone jumped from the rooftop last night.”

“We just need to find the right way out.”

For once, fear was creeping under Yixing’s skin. “Who?”

“The patient from room three-five-two.” 

I tried to write something else than fluff... and this is happened (Maybe I should stay with fluff?). I wanted to keep it short and it ended up messy. Can anyone guess what disorder Chorong had? I wrote this with a 30-minutes-googling research only so expect errors, but I read that hyper uality is one of the symptoms of the disorder (no, I don't put the vulgar parts just because I'm a ert.). And, it might be Chorong who jumped from the roof, it might be not - but I read somewhere that love was not a magical solution for mental-disorder and that's the point of this fic.

I’m sorry eternalspring that I used your prompt like this, guys be careful with the prompts you choose because my brain is random.

Thank you for reading!