in drugs and afterthoughts

by Chocolatesandblood

Summary:

“Earrings,” he hisses in disgust. “When you said to meet up, I was under impression this will be a normal conversation. Are you high again?”

Earrings snorts. “Just sit down, Hatz.”

He grudgingly sits down. “How are things? Are you still…”

“I’m two months sober, harakiri. Don’t look at me like that.”

Or: Not everything is what it seems.

Chapter 1: con todo mi corazón

Khun is sleeping, he’s being doing a lot of that, these days. Bam lets him because truth is easier to bear when it’s not right before you, casting shadows over your entire being, taking control of your mind.

His pocket rings. Bam waits until the third ring before answering. “…Hwaryun?” he says, polite, stepping outside the room in muted footsteps. “Did you find anything?”

“Ha Jinsung said he will handle the rest for now. How is he?”

“He’s getting better.”

“Just keep decreasing the dosage. He’ll be out of it soon.”

“Okay.”

The call ends. A few years ago, Bam got into a mission that prompted him to leave the team temporarily, refusing to take anyone else with him. It had caught him by surprise when Khun, usually the first in line to protest, had let him leave without a word of complaint. It should have been the first sign.

Then came the addiction.

He’s heard everything from Hatz. How Khun, after the first few weeks of his absence, started growing increasingly absent from the team, usually taking tests by himself, locked up in his ice-cold room. How he discovered substances that completely changed Khun’s behavior. How everything had tied to FUG.

How they got Khun addicted just so they could control him, control Bam, all over again.

The door creaks open, spilling a confused-looking Khun. He’s gotten thinner. Bam wants to cry and scream and slam something. He settles to calling softly, “Khun?”

Khun’s eyes, restless and flying at everywhere, freeze up and focus on him. “B-Bam, I’m—” He pauses, embarrassment taking over his expression. “I’m hungry.”

Bam lights up. “Yes, yes. Of course, it’s noon. I’ll bring a meal over.”

Khun stares at him apologetically. “Thank you.”

 

 

It takes a month for Khun to start eating on his own, and another couple of months for him to independently start leaving his room. It’s the addiction and depression, Hwaryun has said, and Bam should have known everything, if only someone has fucking told him something.

Anything.

The water looks hypnotizing as Bam lets it run through Khun’s blue strands. He’s bathing him, Khun hugging his knees in the bathtub, sulking. “I told you I can do this myself now,” he says for the fifth time.

Bam shakes his head. “I wanna take care of you, Khun.”

Khun blows a strand out of his face. “You’ve done enough of that for the past weeks.”

“Not enough,” Bam insists.

Khun, stubborn as he is, frowns. “I haven’t taken anything for this week, have I? That’s the first time since I started. I-I’m getting better, I think. There’s no more withdrawals. We can start taking tests again next week.”

Bam catches a fallen blue hair on the side of the bathtub, pinches it between his fingertips.

“And I can stand on my own now.”

He rolls the strand around the tip of his finger, until it snaps into two. It falls slowly, drifting down, down, down.

Was this what Rachel felt? When she made Bam the center of her world, and Bam did, he had prayed to gods that he’d give up everything to follow. Did she feed on that obsession to make herself feel better? Did she feel this pleasant thing in her stomach, dark and greedy, when Bam depended only for her and waited with abated breath like time only resumed when she was around?

Did Rachel feel what Bam feels now, high on knowledge that right this moment, Khun needs him more than anything in this god forsaken tower?

“No,” Bam finds himself saying, low and a little angered. If he’s going to be anyone’s god, he should be Khun’s. He won’t even ask for a shrine or thousands of prayers, just this .

Khun looks startled. “Bam? What did you say?”

Bam shakes his head, his conscience and everything human taking back the control of his mind. “Nothing. Sorry, Khun. You’re right. I can’t keep taking care of you like this. But just this once, let me.”

Please .

Khun exhales, then leans his back toward Bam. “Okay.”

I’m sorry.

 

---

Hatz supposes he should stop meeting Khun like this. The latter, with a stupid large hat on, stupider sunglasses and a hideous bomber jacket, sitting opposite of him in this sketchy restaurant in the middle tower. “Earrings,” he hisses in disgust. “When you said to meet up, I was under impression this will be a normal conversation. Are you high again?”

Earrings snorts. “Just sit down, Hatz.”

He grudgingly sits down. “How are things? Are you still…”

“I’m two months sober, harakiri. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Whatever. Why did you want to talk?” He won’t ever admit that he misses arguing like this, the witty exchange of insults, and suddenly he’s eighteen again, trying to make a point about how earrings make a man less of a man like it’s not a bunch of nonsense. Khun has returned to his old self, no more of those ugly pills taken as if those were his meals, no more of those dark eye bags and the stink of addiction etched to his soul.

Maybe they will be climbing the tower again,

Hatz is glad. He really is. Even though a part of him misses the way Khun used to cling to him, the way he wanted to hide in shame and thought only Hatz was allowed to see that side of his.

Khun plucks the hat off his head, thank god. But he keeps the shades on. “How’s Rak?”

“Good, I guess,” he shrugs. “He asks us a lot about you and Bam. He’s still busy with the ancient power shit, but knowing that gator, he’d drop everything if you ask.” If only Khun is the type of person to ask, but he isn’t, and Hatz hates that about him.

He’s growing to love that too.

Something in Khun’s features softens. “That dumb gator. What about your team? They’re climbing again?”

“Why don’t you ask Isu? You two used to communicate over that stuff.”

“I can’t. It’s embarrassing to talk to him now.”

“You were never the type to care about your reputation.”

Khun cringes back. “I don’t. I just…”

After a considerable long lapse of silence, Hatz sighs and rises to his feet. “I’m going to order drinks. What do you want?”

Khun looks up to him, collecting his jumbled thoughts for a second. “Sparkling water.”

“Sparkling water,” Hatz deadpans.

Khun raises a brow. “Something wrong with that?”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “Alright, then.”

After a few minutes, he comes back to Khun tapping the table impatiently, the sunglasses tucked in the neck of his shirt. With that out of the way, Hatz finally sees the bloodshot eyes, dazed toward something he can’t see.

“Earrings.”

Khun lifts his head, his big blue eyes giving his undivided attention, and really, Hatz shouldn’t get used to this. “Yeah what? Just sit down, Hatz. It’s not the first time you've seen my eyes.”

“They’re red.”

“I’m sober.”

“I know it’s not because of drugs.”

As Hatz sits back down, Khun bites his bottom lip and with clear devastation in his eyes, says, “I came to a decision last night.”

Hatz watches him, and Khun avoids eye contact as if it burns him. He stares at his sparkling water, not once taking a sip, looking like he’s a second away from bursting to tears. There’s a hard look in his face, like they’re trying to recognize reality. It’s unsettling. It’s how he used to look in those months Bam was gone. Except there are no more drugs to blame for that faraway quality anymore. Thus, Hatz gives up and asks, “What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, his gaze moves slowly until they lock eyes. “I want to climb separately from Bam.”

Hatz swallows, unsure how to interpret that decision. “Have you talked to Bam about it?”

“No. You’re the first one I’ve told about it.”

“But… why? You two did not fight, did you?”

Khun shifts his head to the side, shutting his eyes for a moment. When he opens them back, something has changed about the air around him, turning colder and colder. “FUG got me into those drugs. It was in my food first, then my bloodstream. When I noticed, it was too late.”

The memories of those years feel surreal, he’s felt drained and wronged all over. The world divided in a lot of ways, so he sought an alternative to happiness. He felt alive while drowning, and he paid with his sanity.

The only good thing was that Bam never got to see the worst of it.

“What’s your plan now, then?” Hatz says, searching his face for the truth. “You can’t just tell Bam, ‘hey I’m leaving’, and leave it at that.”

“Why not?”

Hatz shoots him a dumbfounded expression. “You know how Bam gets.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m planning to make it gradual.”

“And Rak?”

Khun shrugs. “He’s already doing things on his own, isn’t he? And Bam’s letting him.”

Hatz wants to say, it’s different with you. Bam needs you too much. But that will be unfair, won’t it? Khun has already been tied down for one too many times. By this bullshit from FUG, that it makes him want to slash their necks open. By Bam, who’s doing everything he can to make things right, but at the end of the day, he’s part of them. A god of FUG, or puppet, depending on whose lives he’s saving.

“If you think this is the right decision, I won’t stop you,” Hatz says. “But won’t it be dangerous? FUG already wanted you to be under their control. Making themselves your supplier was one thing, but what if they go to extreme lengths to keep you next?”

“I know.” Khun smiles vaguely. “It feels too much like putting Bam back on their radar but he already has power to rival a high ranker now, they can’t move recklessly anymore. The drugs were their last resort, and I doubt the entirety of FUG agreed to it. If my guess is right, Rachel probably has something to do with it.”

Rachel. A name that should have been abandoned long ago. Hatz doesn’t hate her as much as Khun does, but he does ponder over the source of the obsessive hate years ago, when Khun chose to take her to the top of the tower alone the moment Bam died, like it had been his life’s mission all along. Now, he barely even cared.

With a serious face, Hatz asks naturally, “Should I kill her?”

Khun breaks into small laugh. “Should you? I won’t stop you.” Then he stares at Hatz and the smile remains. “I’m planning to start gathering for new teammates.”

The scoff he lets out is instinctive. “You keep making those.”

“Haha. This time it won’t be to haunt for her. It will be just for me and my peace.”

Hatz crosses his arms. “You need help?”

“No. I already found a teammate.”

“Is that so?”

Khun’s smiles grows wider and brighter. Hatz winces, suspicious at the face of it. “Yep. In fact, he’s in front of me right now.”

“You better convince him properly then.”

“I should,” he drawls out, a glow in his eyes that hadn’t been present for many months since the addiction and the everything after. “But by the look in his face, I already did.”

Hatz pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, observing, reflecting, settling. “Why me? You got a crush on me?”

He meant it as a joke, but as Khun leans closer with a chin on his palm, all seriousness in the world, perhaps he may not have worded it like a joke, after all. “If you agree, I might just be.”

His heart should not skip a beat at that, but it does. “You’re the one talking to Shibisu about that,” he says instead, maneuvering himself out of the awkward atmosphere he got himself into.

Khun’s eyes flicker with hesitation. “…Fine.”

This is a start of something, Hatz thinks. Only he’s not quite sure what of yet, but something is beginning.

This feels like a first time too, when Hatz smiles back and Khun looks taken aback, mouth parting open, eyes blown wide, and then the moment lingers and attaches to his memory like it’s meant to be preserved.

Khun’s cheeks hurt from grinning.

 

 

 

The thing about staying sober is that your body searches for it even when you don’t exactly remember needing it. He feels he’s ten again, fingers wrapped around the family’s emblem, searching the crowd for the proud eyes of his mother, past all the dead bodies, past all the watchful gazes that gleamed like predators. He feels twelve, eyes trained at everything beyond the window, horizon blocked by the main castle of his father, far and imposing and deadly. He feels fifteen, a wreckage of many things that his mother warned him against, sitting next to a girl who, for a moment, took away his hunger for answers. He feels sixteen, letting go of her, trying to unlearn devotion, trying to learn love , because desperation is a bad ingredient in beginning something new.

He feels seventeen, back when he had everything, and still seventeen when he lost it all.

How old is he now? His gaze is melting the ceiling. Khun tries to remember. He’s sprawled like a starfish on his bed. Bam should be here any moment. There’s a pattern in the ceiling that he has never seen before. A crab. A laugh escapes him.

It does indeed look like a crab.

Why a crab, though? Did Bam put it in there? He doesn’t remember. He misses Bam. He’s hungry. He only eats the meals Bam made for him, because it’s the only right thing to do, not after this tragedy.

He loves crabs, maybe that’s why Bam has put a pattern like that in the ceiling, in the sky, in everything Khun looks at today.

The doorway cracks open and the rest of the light falls into the room.

“Khun?” a soft voice calls out, and Khun obligingly pours all his attention to the source of it.

“Bam, welcome back.”

“Hey.” Bam strides in, holding a tray, and it smells good. Khun decides he will always love Bam, even when he doesn’t feel like himself. “I brought you food.”

“Thank you.” He rises to a sitting position, reaching for his breakfast.

But Bam, for some stupid reason, pauses halfway through the room. “Where were you yesterday?”

Where was he? Khun frankly doesn’t remember. He’s hungry. Why can’t Bam let him eat before asking useless questions? “I think Hatz met up with me. Or I met up with Hatz. Can I eat now?”

Bam doesn’t look pleased at the answer, but Khun isn’t lying so he’s not sure what to do from there. He watches Bam who watches him back, unfazed from where he sits.

“Bam?”

“Please tell me next time if you’re going to leave the room.”

Khun nods. “Alright.”

The fond look returns in Bam’s expression, and he finally starts walking toward Khun again. There are two bowls in the tray, and as Khun reaches for one of them, Bam lightly slaps his hand away. “The right one is yours,” he clarifies, although Khun is pretty sure both are the same meals. He no longer has the energy to inquire, so he ignores the weirdness and starts eating.

“Is it good?” Bam asks.

Khun nods, the incessant ringing in his head retreats to some dark corner upon his first bite of the meal, regaining his clarity. “Yeah,” he replies, even though it isn’t crab, but a seafood soup that tastes a little bland. There’s something heavenly about it though that he can’t pinpoint.

Bam, from his peripheral, flashes the softest of smiles. “I’m glad it is.”

 

 

There are too many rooms in their home, and empty, most of them. Khun doesn’t ask what the extra ones are for, but Khun understands that it stands for something, maybe Bam is waiting for its other residents. For now, it’s just Khun and Bam.

It will be too lonely once it starts being only Bam. So he delays the announcement of his leaving until he finds Hatz’s message one day, setting aglow in his lighthouse that Bam kept in one of the empty rooms.

Hey earrings, you little shit, did you block my contact in your pocket?

What?

Drowned in confusion, Khun sets his pocket back to life. He doesn’t remember doing such a thing, but then again, he doesn’t remember a lot of things, like what his breakfast was. He scrolls for Hatz’ contact, and finds none, to his astonishment.

He promptly replies. I must have deleted it by mistake. Sorry. Connect again.

His pocket rings with a message. Did you tell Bam?

It’s the one thing he can’t forget. He dreams of it a lot, leaving that is, but every time he does so, he’ll wake up out of breath, chest heaving, tears all over his face, and with Bam snapped awake at all the fussing.

Not yet , he messages back. At that moment, the front door of the house clicks open, and Khun turns his head, reaching a decision. I’ll tell him now.

His pocket vibrates with another message but Khun doesn’t get the time to read because Bam is yelling for his name downstairs.

Bam has his arms full with groceries, face buried in paper bags. Khun immediately rushes down to help. “You bought a lot!”

Bam chuckles. “It reduces a lot of trips.”

“You should have taken me with you.”

“You were asleep.”

“You could have woken me up.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

As Bam skips to the kitchen, Khun following close behind, the latter promptly clears his throat, searching for the balance within him. “Uhm, Bam? Can we talk for a bit?”

Bam glances over his shoulder. “Now? Sure. Hang on, let me put this stuff.”

Khun nervously fiddles with his fingers to the side as he waits for Bam to finish arranging the groceries. As the fridge slams shut, he claps his hands together once. “There!” He cheerfully turns back to Khun. “What do you want to talk about?”

Khun swallows heavily, like the air is poisoned around him. Bam tilts his head, curious and eyes big, and Khun convinces himself that there’s no way Bam will hate him for this. Not even many deaths had brought out the worst in him, so what can go wrong, right? So with a sharp inhale, he goes, “I was thinking of climbing the tower again.”

Bam’s lips press together. “Oh.”

Khun waits in anticipation, waits for a no and prepares his heart just in case, waits for a yes because he’s learned that hope isn’t always a bad thing. Then:

“Okay.”

Khun lights up. “And I want to go separately.”

Bam licks his lips, looking unaffected beneath the pretense of concern. “If that’s what you want, Khun. I can’t stop you.”

He blinks. That’s it? “Yeah, that’s what I want. And what I— what I need.”

There’s a fleeting flare of anger in Bam’s face, features twisting in a sudden, ugly resentment, but it’s gone by the next moment when Khun blinks in surprise. Because by then, Bam looks as understanding as ever, nodding softly, fondly, never without warmth, so he knows he must have imagined it.

“Alright. Do you need anything else?”

Khun shoots him a genuine smile. “Can I help you prepare dinner?”

“It’s fine. I prefer cooking by myself.” He must have caught the disappointment in Khun’s face because he quickly amends, “Consider this as my parting gift.”

Khun laughs softly. “ Parting gift ? I’m not completely leaving Bam. It’s not like we’ve never been separated before. Just a couple of floors and we’ll be a team again.”

Bam laughs along with him, but there’s something guarded to it. “I know. Just wait for me to finish this, alright?”

“Alright.” He leaves the kitchen with lighter footsteps.

 

 

“You never asked.”

Bam lifts his head, caught off guard. “Hm?”

“You never asked what happened,” Khun continues, between the clinking of spoons against bowls and the shared, oppressive quiet.

“It’s not my place.”

“You’re my best friend . If you feel like you have every right to know, you should.”

“It was my fault,” Bam says after a beat of dreaded expression. “You— you got into it because of me.”

“That’s not true.”

“FUG went after you because of me. They did not kill you.” His bottom lip wobbles like every word out of it tastes wretched. “But they did the closest thing. I almost lost you.”

You can’t create madness just for the sake of it, there’s always a place for it. Khun is sure he’ll never blame Bam for being weak against an obvious attempt to dominate him, but blaming himself extends to the people connected to him, and he’s done pretending like those two years of insanity never happened.

“It was a mistake,” Khun says. “It will never happen again. I will never let it happen again.”

A sad smile falls on Bam’s expression, and he looks weak like that, he looks like the boy Khun is only beginning to love. “So will I, Khun. So will I.”

The dinner ends with a long, thoughtful silence.

 

 

---

Hatz is certainly not waiting for someone, definitely not for the blue jerk who’s been radio silence for a week.

“Your face doesn’t seem that way,” a voice pipes up in front of him. It’s Isu, the ever observant, albeit a bit too energetic, fellow scout of their team.

“Shut up.” Did he seriously just read my mind ?

“You’ve been murmuring ‘ this damn Earrings’ five times for the past hour. Don’t be surprised.” His grin is too wide for his liking. “How is he? I heard he was sick. I didn’t know someone like him could be sick.”

“He’s gotten better.” Sober , as Earrings worded it, but he didn’t sound like one the last time he called; each syllable slurred when he spoke, sounding lightheaded and not quite there, asking the dumbest questions, How old am I again, Hatz?

“Then why do you look so worried?”

Because there’s been no progress. Because Bam promised he would hunt for the people responsible, but there has been nothing. Because Khun sounded high on those shitty pills again. “What do you think about me leaving the team?” he asks instead of answering Isu’s question, because he’s as good at dodging as he is at blocking.

“Excuse me?” Isu splutters. “You’re what?! Who’s gonna carry Laure around once you’re gone?!”

“Is that seriously all my worth to this team?”

Isu breaks into a nervous laugh. “Of course not. But you’re not serious, right? You’re not leaving, right?”

Hatz stares at him, straight-faced and complete with seriousness.

“Y—You’re actually serious.” Unceremoniously, Isu sniffs and then bursts into tears, or well he looks like he has, because he abruptly wails too loudly that Hatz nearly falls out of the chair. “Nooo! Hatz, my son, what did I do? Did I fail as a leader?! Noooo! I can’t do this without you!” He jumps from his seat to lunge at Hatz, who promptly sidesteps to avoid, and Isu just cries harder. “You can’t leave!”

“Khun wants me to go with him.”

Isu pauses, blinks a few times, then straightens back up. “Oh well, why didn’t you say so immediately? Alright, permission granted.”

“What the fuck? Just like that?” Hatz gapes in disbelief.

“Well yeah.” Then, Isu smiles, like he’s trading a secret. “I’m not stupid, Hatz. I more or less got what’s going on.”

Oh . “Then—”

“Why are you all so goddamn loud?!” Endorsi shrieks, slamming the door open that leads to the rooftop they’re on. “It’s ruining my beauty sleep!”

“Princess, it’s three pm!” Isu cries.

“Did I stutter ?!”

Hatz escapes downstairs before he gets caught up in the argument. The least face he’s expecting to greet him in the living room of their flat is that guide, perched on the sofa like a bored cat, her expression caught between interest and impatience, like she’s been waiting for him for ages.

“Hwaryun,” Hatz says, wary. “What are you doing here?”

She gestures for him to sit down, and so Hatz remains standing out of pettiness. “Suit yourself.” She shrugs. “You’re curious about which FUG member was responsible for what happened to Khun, aren’t you?”

Hatz falls silent. For a split second, his gaze snaps around, looking for stray ears trying to listen, but his scout abilities detect none. His shoulders sag. “Despite our differences, I’m still his friend.”

“His friend,” Hwaryun repeats, like the word amuses her. “You better stop at this, then.”

“What?”

“You won’t like what you will find out if you keep this up. Just forget what happened and focus on your team. As long as Khun Aguero Agnes is with my god, you won’t have to worry about anything.”

He scoffs. “That’s for me to decide.”

“In fact, not really,” she says.

“You…” Hatz refrains from gritting his teeth. “You know who’s behind of this, don’t you?”

She smiles, tipping her head like he’s the slow one here. “Give up, Hatz. This isn’t the path my god wants you to take.”

“For the last time, Bam is not a god,” he grits out. He inhales sharply, composing himself. “I have every right to know what happened to my friend. I will destroy those very paths you speak of if you keep getting in our way.” He marches forward, and with a swift movement, brandishes his sword and points it at her neck, cutting through the air. “Khun has been through so much by these assholes in FUG. If you are one of them, I don’t care if you’re Bam’s friend or not. I won’t hesitate to slice your neck right here and then.”

“Have you ever wondered how he was fooled into taking it?” Hwaryun says, unfazed at the blade threatening her very life. “He’s a genius acknowledged by many family leaders. He took part in taking down many of Bam’s powerful enemies. Did you know Ha Jinsung himself sent him truckloads of items as a birthday gift in appreciation for having a large involvement in freeing him from the nest?” At Hatz's no-answer, Hwaryun continues. “But until now, Khun Aguero Agnes has made no use of those items. A gift from a high ranker, yet he doesn’t touch any of them for some reason. Why? Because that’s the level of cautiousness he has. Despite being Bam’s master and everything, he doesn’t accept anything easily .” A skin of her neck dangerous gets too close to the blade. Hatz subconsciously takes a step back.

“Where are you going with this?”

“He didn’t tell you, did he? How he got forced into taking those drugs in the first place. How he had no choice but to be heavily dependent to the point it ruined him.”

“It was in his food, he said. Then in—”

“He doesn’t take in anything unless the food itself is provided by the floor’s test administrators.”

“FUG must have—”

“Even most of the most powerful members of FUG can’t manipulate the distribution of meals in every floor. Poisons are heavily prohibited from being given to regulars by rankers. The administrators themselves will sense our involvement and we don’t want that kind of attention, do we?”

Hatz swallows thickly. “Then how…?”

“Unless,” Hwaryun says, stepping forward again. Hatz steps back in response, a sweat trickling on the back of his neck, like he is the one on the other side of the sword. “There’s someone very close to him. Someone from FUG. Someone Khun Aguero Agnes trusts more than his own life, that he will take whatever that person gives. Do you know anyone who can satisfy that criteria, Hatz?”

A face appears in his head, someone with a kind smile and kinder eyes. And it’s all he needs for the world beneath him to tilt.

It’s like time itself freezes. Blood disappears from his face, and Hatz’ thoughts begin to race abnormally fast, because everything suddenly makes sense, and he denies it with everything in him. “No,” he gasps out, his throat dry, his eyes blown wide. “No, no, no. Bam wouldn’t— Bam wouldn’t .”

Bam, the boy who will die for his friends, who will sacrifice each limb of his body to take them to the higher place. Bam, who has lost too much for any of them to give half of it back. Bam, the boy, who’s now changing in the center of Hatz’s mind. And he wants to scream. He wants to break something. He wants to tear this tower in half, because it can’t be.

It can’t be.

Hatz falls to his knees, sword clattering to the floor as he clutches his head, trying to escape from those cursed images flickering in and out of his mind. “No. No…”

“I told you,” Hwaryun mutters, low enough that he can still hear it. He can almost hear the smile in her voice, cruel and unaffected. “You won’t like what you will find out.”

Inside him, something breaks, because there's no way of returning from this.

Chapter 2: donde hay humo, hay fuego

Two and a half years ago.

 

Khun was brushing his teeth in front of the bathroom mirror and had just spat water out when Bam stepped in the doorway and hovered there, a distant look on his face. Khun glanced fleetingly, both of them illuminated in the soft glow of a white bulb above their heads. He couldn’t make out the expression in Bam’s face without wincing. “Give me a second. I’m almost done here.” He ran the faucet open, and washed his face quickly.

When he returned his gaze to the door, Bam was still rooted in the spot, staring without a word said, only half-there.

“Bam?”

Like a spell that broke, Bam’s gaze finally flickered with recognition. “I overheard you talking to Shilial.”

Khun nodded. Okay. So what? He talked to a lot of people these days, courtesy of Bam bringing new people every day, as if he were getting to know the entire population. He waited for Bam to elaborate, and when he didn’t, his mind worked to remember whatever the conversation was.

And— Oh. That.

He wiped his brow with a towel before facing Bam again. “Which part did you hear?” It was a long conversation after all. Most of it had been about her , the precious half-sister he chose over his own a lifetime ago. 

“The part of you wanting to leave.”

“That’s not what it sounds like,” he said quickly, voice tight with many emotions, most he couldn’t name. He couldn’t let Bam mistake his tone for anything but sincere. “I’m not going to leave you and Rak. Not at all. It’s just—” he gestured to something between them, like it could minimize the damage. “I can’t catch up with you this way. Being the brain of the team can only take me so far. You can fight high rankers now. Rak is an ancient, he’ll no doubt awaken those missing powers of his too. The me right now,” he motioned to the entirety of himself, “Is a liability.” It did hurt his pride to say those, but softening the blow of his words wouldn’t really make the situation any less pathetic.

“Khun—”

He lifted a palm, halting Bam from speaking over him. “Just consider it, okay? I’m not going to leave completely. I can’t stay away from you too long. You know that, right?”

“I don’t understand,” Bam said, helplessness taking over his expression. He looked pleading, like Khun was the unreasonable one here. “You saved me many times. I would have died plenty more if it weren’t for you. Why would you ever consider yourself a liability?”

“It’s different now. If you walk into a fire, I’ll follow without hesitation. But between the two of us, you’re the only one who can get out of that alive.” He crossed the distance between them. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“That goes without saying, Khun.”

“Then trust me on this one too. When we meet again, I’ll even be more cunning and dangerous and deadly.” A slender finger tapped Bam’s cheek, poking. Khun grinned, eyes almost turning to crescents, encouraging Bam to smile back.

And Bam should let go of this— this building of resentment and disappointment and loneliness. A part of Traumerei’s madness stuck with him after the long glimpse of his memories. He didn’t know if he could ever unlearn all that hatred, he memorized everything before he grew conscious of such act.

“Okay,” said Bam. “I get it,” he added, even though he didn’t. “I trust you.” Even though he knew it wasn’t enough.

Traumerei trusted Amizu and she left him. Amizu loved Traumerei and she left him. Who was to say Khun wouldn’t? He was walking away now. He had said lies before, and pretty sure he had plenty more in his arsenal. Neither love nor trust would be enough to make somebody stay. Nothing ever was. He’d been shoved proofs of that fact. People leave not because they grew tired or they needed to, they leave just because they could .

As long as they were capable of leaving, they would.

He would.

Khun, unaware of it all, or perhaps choosing to stay ignorant because he was taught to be cruel like that, was still waiting for Bam to smile back, like he hadn’t said the damnest thing Bam had heard today. “Hey, aren’t I supposed to be the grumpy one? What is it that Endorsi used to say? You’re gonna grow early wrinkles if you keep frowning like that.”

Bam caught his wrist before Khun could poke his cheek again. Khun chuckled, soft in the echo of the small bathroom. Despite himself, a small smile tugged the corner of Bam’s lips. “Sorry. I’m hindering you too much, aren’t I?”

“That’s supposed to be my line,” Khun said, shaking his head in disbelief. Their gazes locked, and Khun chose that moment to bump their foreheads together, and Bam wished he didn’t feel the words goodbye branded from his touch like a monster that lived in his skin, but he did. He felt everything now. “Bam,” Khun said, like a prayer, like a devotion. “I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

Bam tilted his face to land a long, meaningful kiss on his temple, a little above his ear. “Don’t leave, please.”

And of course, Khun, raised in deals and transactions and everything with a challenge, wouldn’t know how to make a promise.

 

 

 

---

Present.

---

 

Shinsu curls around him in submission, bending to his command. It drifts with destination, seemingly having a mind of its own. It follows a memorized pattern, a constant stream of circles above Bam’s head.

Mediation takes up a lot of his time, and it remains one of his favorite pastimes. It reconnects him with everything around him, everything that breathes, from the small flap of wings of a butterfly to the vibration of voices, Bam feels them all.

Presence is a beautiful, addictive thing.

“ Hey Bam! You haven’t called in a while!” comes a bright voice from his pocket. Bam smiles instinctively, closed lidded eyes opening briefly.

“Hey Isu. It’s good to hear from you again,” he greets and means it. The shinsu orb pulsates with serene energy, reflecting his state of mind, just like it should be. Controlled. Quiet. Stable. “How are things there? Heard you have a test next week?”

“ Yeah ,” Isu hums. “ Are you worried? Hehe. Don’t worry, with these two princesses here, surely there can’t be a problem! ”

“Right, of course.” He chuckles, content with the response. “How’s Endorsi? You’re not being followed by Jahad’s forces still, are you?”

“ Oh! Endorsi will be sooo delighted to hear you asking about her .” There’s a long giggle from the other line that Bam prefers not to think too deeply about. He does miss her, but interacting with her comes with conflicting feelings. He feels needed when she’s around, but also feels quite used, and those two things clash inappropriately. He thought he’s gotten better at reading her, but sometimes it seems like no amount of time can ever be enough to fully understand her.

She’s nothing like Yuri in that regard.

“ Don’t worry your pretty little head, Bam. We’ve had some run-ins with enemies but nothing we can’t handle. She does get a little too overboard with it sometimes though. If you have time, go talk to her. If it’s you, she’ll listen.”

“Is that so? I’ll try to call her soon then.” Absently, he thinks about what he should prepare for dinner. Khun has been complaining about how it’s soup all the damn time, and Bam’s getting sick of it. Maybe they can do for some pasta tonight.

“How’s Khun? He keeps ignoring my calls! That snobber. It’s like he doesn’t love me anymore. ”

“It’s the shinsu here, I think,” he says, gaze flickering with meaning. “Transmission of signals tends to get hard around these parts. I had to move places to call you.”

“ Oh, I see. Then he’s just being lazy. What an ass. ”

He smiles in amusement, even though Isu isn’t here to see it. “Khun’s still recuperating. I’m sure he’ll call once he’s all good and recovered. I’ll send him your regards if it makes you feel better.”   

“ But it’s not only me though! Hatz is being sulky because Khun isn’t calling back. Who would have thought?! I swear yesterday those two were just at each other’s throats, now they’re secretly meeting up and shit. Oh, and I heard Khun wants to climb up with Hatz alone. Hey, you tell me! I’m not the only one who finds that suspicious, right?”

The absentminded smile is instantly wiped off his face. The blood in his veins is replaced with ice and dread fills every room in his mind.

In a matter of seconds, each Shinsu orb explodes above him, rippling the air with dangerous fury.

“No,” he croaks out, his own voice sounding like a stranger’s. “That’s the first time I’ve heard about that.”

“Wait, for real? Shit, maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell you? Damn whatever. Khun will tell you eventually anyway. He tells you everything. ”

Not everything from what it sounds like.

“ I’ve always known they had that kind of tension. ”

“Tension?”

“ Yeah. You know this thing I-hate-you-but-I-think-of-you-a-lot they got going on. Maybe it’s because they’re both repressed in terms of s—” Isu comes to an abrupt halt. “ Oh no, forget I said anything! I don’t want Khun coming after my neck for corrupting your innocence .”

“I’m not sure I get what that’s supposed to mean, Isu.” Bam and Hatz are never the closest of friends, but they’re close enough to gain each other’s full trust. He had been in Bam’s team for the Hide-and-Seek game from Evankhell’s floor. It was where everything began.

Hatz, for as long as Bam knows him, has always been a silent, watchful eye in the corner, someone who weighs his words carefully, only paying close attention to the most important things, always observing, tracking the surroundings in permanent surveillance. Khun, for odd reasons, is eager to get under his skin at every chance he gets, seeking a reaction with an intent to tease. It’s been that way ever since their argument over earrings and old traditions. Only Rak and Hatz had ever drawn that kind of attention from his usually standoffish light bearer, and it shouldn’t be a big deal. It isn’t. Bam knows there are a few chosen people capable of bringing out the child in Khun; the child that’s hungry to be noticed, wanting entertainment, challenge, even if it manifests in a twisted, backhanded way.

With Bam, Khun tends to take a more protective approach. He’s never been aware of the differences until this moment. Until Hatz has gained something he can’t have. He finds it unacceptable.

Take care of that Earrings. Or else I will .

That sounds like a threat now.

“ Bam? Are you still there? ”

Drawn back by Isu’s voice, Bam tries to regain his bearings. His displeasure is affecting the shinsu around him, attuned to his will. “Yeah. Sorry. What was it again?”

“ I was asking if you guys have plans to meet up soon? It must be so handful being only with Khun all the time haha.”

“It’s better this way.”

“He must be — Wait, what? I was just kidding! But —”

“See you, Isu. I’ll call you again.”

“ O-okay. Tell us if you need anything! ”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

He’s amazed at his ability to keep his composure until the very last moment, despite the loud, incessant ringing in his ears that demands punishment.

Punishment from whom ?    Inquires a softer, more recognizable voice in his head.

From those who wronged you .

Khun and Hatz are my friends.

Are they?

They are. They are. They are. Bam takes several deep breaths and embeds those words in his mind. It’s been harder to block its voice lately, the voice that sounds like his father’s but nothing like how Bam expects him to be. It’s jarring. It’s maddening. Bam should have told Khun long ago about this, but the fear of garnering a frightful look has won over, and it’s getting harder to ignore now. It has learned how to be louder.

 

 

 

“Wow,” says Khun with big astonishment as he stares down at the tight-lidded jar he’s been struggling to open for the past fifteen minutes and failing to no avail. “When did my physical strength become this pathetic?”

Perhaps the jar hates him, which is unsettling because Khun has done nothing untoward to it. This begs a question, how do you make a thing forgive you? Now that’s a new interesting dilemma. He shall ask Bam when he returns.

Someone strong and lovable may be able to open the jar, and Khun is nothing of the sort at the moment. He pads away from the kitchen, and throws himself onto the sofa. He’s hungry and Bam isn’t here yet and he’s forgetting something, isn’t he?

He’s remembering he’s forgetting something, which in turn makes him forget more. Is he remembering or is he forgetting?

More and more questions.

He leans his entire weight against the sofa, staring at the ceiling and at all the boring expanse of white. White makes him remember an enemy. A flash of silver that follows no pattern. Yet, somehow, it reminds him of beautiful things. He used to like polished swords.

Swords.

His breath hitches in his throat as Khun abruptly gets to his feet, a name trapped at back of his tongue. Hatz .

Hatz.

Before he can scream and curse at himself for forgetting something he should not have, the front door swings open, loud in its announcement of someone’s entrance. Khun watches as a mop of brown hair appears in his vision, a dark look in his usually kind face.

“Khun,” Bam says, and Khun feels unguarded at the sound of it, like he’s caught doing something bad when, for the first time in his life, he’s trying to do anything but.

“Twenty-fifth Bam,” he calls back, because what if Bam has forgotten his own name, too? So he likes this thing they’re doing; reminding each other of their names.

“You—” He comes to a halt, a deep frown that doesn’t suit him taking over his features. “Wait ,what is that smell? Is something burning?”

Khun falters because of course , that’s another thing he’s forgotten. Bam darts for the kitchen, panicking and hurrying. Nearly bumping into Khun in the process, but he hasn’t, because he’s precise in his movements.

“Shit!” That’s the first time he’d heard Bam curse in a long while. With a flick of his wrist, Bam sends a wave of shinsu for the burning stove, extinguishing the entire thing and destroying it at the same time. Khun blinks rapidly at the fleeting quiet, locking eyes with Bam who looks torn between anger and confusion. “You could have burned our entire house down! Just what the hell were you trying to do?”

“Well, I’m not usually this forgetful,” Khun tries to defend himself, despite how small he feels under Bam’s withering gaze. He glances at the jar with disdain, still so stubbornly closed on top of the counter. He points an accusing finger at the resentful thing. “It’s the jar’s fault. It kept my attention by refusing to budge when it knew I was cooking. It will be unfair to blame me entirely.”

“You—what?” Bam stares in a doubled amount of confusion, like Khun’s explanation isn’t as simple as possible. Bam’s fists tighten on his sides, and with heavy, quick footsteps, he crosses their distance and grabs the jar, Khun’s current sworn enemy. He opens it effortlessly, and the rich smell of spice wafts into the room.

Khun’s mouth forms an oh. The jar does not hate Bam, after all, which is unsurprising. Everyone loves Bam.

“There, it’s open,” says Bam, every ounce of impatience subsiding, replaced only with exhaustion. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“I am,” says Khun, grinning wickedly.

Bam grabs his arm in alarm. “What? Where?!’

“Here.” He points at his chest, sighing dramatically. “You’ve hurt my feelings.”

Bam lets go of his arm and it dangles with no energy left in him. “You…” He pinches the bridge of his nose, stressed out, and Khun’s grin grows wider, trying to sympathize. “When did I hurt your feelings? I even opened your jar. They’re spicy pickles, by the way. Be careful when you eat them.”

“Oh!” Now that his attention returns to the jar, he feels overwhelming euphoria that he’s finally conquered his earlier dilemma. “I suppose since it’s forgiven me, I should also forgive you. That will be fair with you right, Bam?”

“The jar… forgave you? That thing?”

Bam has always been a little slow —well, mostly everyone is when Khun considers it —but these days Bam seems to be unusually too slow. “Yes, Bam. That’s what I said. I’m keeping this jar with me. I’m hungry.”

“Alright,” Bam nods with uncertainty. He glances back at the ruined kitchen and winces. “I’ll try to see what I can cook with what’s not burned.”

“Okay! I’ll be at the dining room.”

With a salute, Khun saunters out. It’s good that Bam’s anger has went forgotten. Angry people are all the same; they break things.

He regards the jar with a dedicated look. “Because you’re a stubborn little thing, I shall call you Hatz. That way, I won’t forget such important name.” He feels proud at the idea. “Hatz, you naughty thing, you almost burned this house down.” His lips lean closer, smiling conspiratorially. “Next time, you better burn it down completely, okay?”

He receives nothing as a response, but it doesn’t matter. Its fate has long since been decided.

 

 

Khun is roused awake by a familiar trembling on top of his stomach. His eyes squint in the darkness and catch the sight of a shaking mop of brown hair. This again?

He rubs his eyes. He can feel the wet patch on his shirt where Bam’s tears have soaked through. Khun stirs, trying to sit up from the discomfort he’s been put through. “Bam?” he murmurs, only half-awake. “You’ll stop crying if you go to sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” Bam says, hiding his face and shaking, still sobbing. “I’m sorry I’m not the kind of person you thought I was.”

Once Khun’s completely sat up, he tries to make out the expression on Bam’s face. His bangs have certainly grown longer, it compels him to grab a pair of scissors. He presses his mouth in a straight line, considering. “Don’t be offended, Bam, but I don’t really expect a lot from you,” he says with bare honesty. “If there’s a side of you I haven’t met yet, then simply introduce me.” He runs his fingers through the soft locks of brown. “Give me a chance to accept it.”

He must have said the wrong thing because Bam only sobs harder, like there’s a dam he can’t keep under control within his body. “Khun, Khun, I—” Bam caresses his cheek, and Khun leans against the palm, watching intently. “I…”

Then Bam leans closer and presses their lips together, like he’s trying to seal something, and it tastes like salt and tears and sadness. It’s supposed to be a kiss, but Khun only feels their bodies colliding together, as if trying to merge, against all odds, and he can’t decide whether he likes it or not.

He’s pushed and pushed until Bam hovers above him, then he pulls away from the deep contact. Khun traces all remnants of tragedy on his face with his gaze, settling on the golden eyes that shine from unshed tears. And Bam stares back with that pained kind of expression like he’s holding back the entire world from collapsing on them. After a moment, his forehead falls on his collarbone, still shaking terribly.

“You didn’t kiss me back,” says Bam, voice filled with hurt, and something within Khun dies a little. “Why won’t you kiss me back, Khun?”

Khun interlaces his fingers together over the back of Bam’s neck in lieu of a hug, swallowing the ache. “I don’t know how.”

Bam breaks down completely. He mutters his I’m sorry s thousand times over against his skin, and Khun supposes, just like with the same damn soup Bam keeps making, he will just have to grow sick of them, too.

 

 

 

---

Khun Aguero Agnes is a lot of things but he’s not a traitor. Sure he lies a lot just for the fun of it, he’s a swindler, and he has the annoying habit of singling out Hatz in a crowd just to point a finger and laugh, but when it comes down to it, Hatz knows he’ll die for his friends.

He already did, many times.

It was the forced proximity, he thinks. Why Hatz is suddenly thinking of him every time the opportunity presents itself. He’s starting to avoid looking at blue things in their place, because it reminds him of the guy who, until now, has not made a single call, nor has answered his. It was the forced proximity that when Bam left, two years ago, and Khun, drowned in misery of his emotions, chose to drown alone, yet Hatz did not let him. At first, it wasn’t out of pure intentions. He only wanted to poke and jab the same way Khun has been doing to him for years, wondered what it’d be like to watch him fall and sink to the hellhole he’d dug himself in. Hatz had been sure Khun would find a way to get out of it anyway, he always does. He’s not the type of person to let himself rot like that.

Hatz was proven wrong.

He doesn’t quite know what to do with it at first. Thus perhaps for how everything turned out, Hatz simply wants to see this through to the end.

Because, as it turns out, perhaps Hatz doesn’t really mind taking care of that blue idiot. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss him being the independent blue idiot.

It’s been a couple of days since Hwaryun left their resting house without another word, her presence fleeting like a ghost. Isu tried to prod him for answers when he noticed the sudden tension, but Hatz has yet to give him answers, which is stupid as he mulls it over now. More than anything now, he needs Isu’s way of thinking.

But the fact that this involves something unthinkable that may genuinely damage Isu is what pushes him to hesitate.

He knows he’s probably making a bad decision.

Absentmindedly, Hatz scrolls up his messages with Khun. He realizes it’s mostly the blue bastard talking and filling up the conversations.

One of the earliest ones scroll back to around five years after Bam’s death.

Narrow-Minded Earrings: Heard that you lost to the devil’s right arm haha that’s pathetic

Narrow-Minded Earrings: LOL

Narrow-Minded Earrings: Are your injuries that serious

Narrow-Minded Earrings: Bet I can beat him easily

Me: Prove it then.

Narrow-Minded Earrings: Yeah i will

Hatz snorts despite himself. It was that ego of his that later led him to meet Jue Viole Grace prematurely. He scrolls down and feels his face heat up at his later messages.

Me: Are you really dead?

Me: You dumbass. Why the fuck did you have to go after Cassano? Your head must really only be for decoration.

No wonder that Earrings got his ego inflated during their first meeting in the Workshop. In his defense, Hatz genuinely thought he was dead.

His replies were then after the Workshop battle, and right before they took off for the hell train.

Narrow-Minded Earrings: TF did you just say to me

Narrow-Minded Earrings: Were you worried

Narrow-Minded Earrings: That’s interesting

Narrow-Minded Earrings: Were you worried, Hatz?

Narrow-Minded Earrings: I don’t die easily.

Hatz shakes his head, trying not to frown and let it get to him, even though Khun isn’t here to make fun of him now.

Me: Let’s fight after you get off the Hell Train

Narrow-Minded Earrings: You wanna lose that badly

Narrow-Minded Earrings: Don’t harakiri yourself once you lose

And after that Hatz was spammed with hundreds of random emoticons that he simply chose to ignore. They didn’t get to talk much after because they’d been in the Hell Train for most of it, and the train does not allow transmission of messages.

Their latest conversations were mostly exchanging locations and several call logs.

“You got it bad, huh?”

Hatz jumps of his seat at the sudden voice over his shoulder, brandishing his sword in reflex. Endorsi swiftly leaps back, flashing an unimpressed stare.

“You better give that up, then. That guy doesn’t see anyone else when Bam is around.”

Hatz resists the urge to roll his eyes and returns his sword to its handle. “Speak for yourself. Bam is the same with Earrings.” Yet here you are.

Endorsi’s mouth curls down in irritation, but it’s a tad too stiff. “Are you here to piss me off?”

“No.” Hatz straightens, because he’s come here for one reason. “I’m here to ask for help.”

She tilts her head, curiosity growing in her amber eyes. “And why should I help?”

“It’s about Bam.” And just like that, her entire attention is drawn, like a flower to the sun.

 

 

 

Ran opens the door with a yawn. He feels a spike of irritation for the disturbance of his morning, so he slams it open with more force than necessary. Two familiar faces greet him.

“Oh, nice. It’s good that your bunker is just in this floor,” a black haired scout says first thing. Is this one of A.A.’s friends? He’s struggling to remember his name. Behind him, a princess of Jahad crosses her arms, impatience evident in her face. Oh. Endorsi Jahad. Dann talks about her a lot like she’s some sort of god.

“What do you want?” Ran asks. A.A.’s last contact of him was so long ago it almost makes him hold a grudge, but he’s not going to admit that to anybody.

“Do you know where Khun and Bam are? If not, can you help us track him down?”

His gaze flickers to both of them, trying to gauge a threat. The lizard isn’t here. He steps aside in the doorway, feeling a new form of annoyance building up. “Just come in.”

“Where’s the rest of your team?”

“...I overslept.” He leaves it at that, and good thing these new bothersome intruders do not dare prod for more.

Notes:

fun fact! hatz only smiled two times in the entire webtoon, one bcs of khun, and the other for bam. the first one, when he was arguing with khun about earrings in season 1, and the second before they departed for the hell train.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of death follows him