we all fall down (5/5)
The next three days passed slowly, but without any substance. Jongin spent most of his time sleeping, eating, and using the training room. Most of the equipment was state of the art technology, but Changmin was right, rarely anyone used it. Jongin probably wouldn't have used it either if it weren't for his increasing anger. The urge to just punch something was overwhelming, and usually after he delivered the first punch to the sandbag, he felt like one punch was enough to satisfy him. It wasn't enough until it was completely destroyed.
At the end of the second day he realized his knuckles were a dark blueish black color. It hurt every time he touched them, but it was the good kind of hurt. The distracting kind.
He slept through half of the third day and ate just enough so he wasn't starving.
The night before the night he traced everyone's names in the air and pictured all of their faces, tried to recall as much memories of them as he could.
The desire to die had never been so overwhelming.
The third day came, and Jongin had a good hour before he had to be at the coordinators disposal. He hadn't seen Chanyeol all three days, and he didn't intend on seeing him now. He walked to the tenth room and opened it slowly.
It was Kyungsoo's room - the first one to go.
It was the exact same as every other room, but something about it reminded Jongin of Kyungsoo. "I'm going to win," he said, surprised at the determination in his voice. "I'll win this round for Kyungsoo."
Silence answered him, but Jongin felt oddly pleased. He walked out and decided to just go to the coordinator's set up much earlier than usual.
Seohyun seemed the same, despite the fact they might never see each other again, regardless of who won. They walked down the same metal hallway, and for a second, he could've believed it was his very first match against Yixing.
Someone flashed in his mind, and he looked up at Seohyun suddenly. "The game. The one you used to play. Did you ever say a regret?"
Seohyun smiled, but not at Jongin. "Something I wanted to change. Yeah."
"What was it?" Jongin asked.
"Everything."
Jongin paused, thrown off by her answer. "What's everything?"
Seohyun shrugged. "Everything I wanted to change. My name, my house, my life."
"Did you?" Jongin pushed. "Did you change?"
"A considerable deal, yes."
"What was your birth name?"
She gave him a smile. "If you win this match as well, I'll tell you."
"There won't be another match after this."
"Metal gate opening, please stand clear." She took a few steps back and stood against the wall on Jongin's right. "So go win it."
He shook his shoulders and cracked his neck. She had triggered some animalistic behavior in him. He had one goal in mind: Fight his way out.
It seemed pretty obvious then, as he stood behind the metal bars. There was no one left to worry for. No friends, no allies. He just had to walk into the arena and kill whoever was on the other side. It was the only way he'd ever be able to go home.
He was ready. He could do this.
"Main gate opening in three, two, one."
The doors opened, and he took his first step onto the sandy arena. It was burning hot, so hot he could feel it through his boots, but it was alright. He could make do with that.
The other cage door opened, and his opponent stepped out.
Jongin felt his heart stop.
Same eyes, same hair, same ridiculously tall stature. Chanyeol wasn't the same person though. There was no smile, no obnoxious laughter, no ridiculous faces or weird hairstyles.
The bell rang, and the fight started.
Chanyeol didn't waste any time in letting his power show. Flames erupted from his hands, burning the ground next to him. Jongin thought out his plan of attack. He could keep teleporting around the arena to confuse Chanyeol, but that would tire himself out more than Chanyeol. He headed towards the left side, slowly, and then jumped when Chanyeol threw a fireball at him. He flipped onto his side and then back to his feet, only to fall backwards again when another fireball went over his head. He rolled to the side and leaped to his feet, bolting to the other side of the stadium.
He was fast on his feet, and thankful for the fact fire doesn't spread on sand. But it was incredibly hot, and Jongin wasn't used to that. Sweat was already breaking out along his temple, and Chanyeol had switched his attack mode to a whip made out of fire. He cracked it on the ground, and the crowd cheered. Jongin spit.
He had to get as close to Chanyeol as he could, without getting burnt, and without using his own power. Fire took time to burn, and Jongin had to conserve as much energy as possible. He stepped from side to side and dodged every time Chanyeol would snap the whip. He slid on the ground and screamed as the whip slightly came into contact with his waist. He took a dagger out of his holster and jumped up again, only a couple of feet away from Chanyeol. He was too close for Chanyeol to use his whip properly now, and he took the chance to thrust his hand out and slam the knife into his chest.
A giant fireball erupted from Chanyeol's mouth, and Jongin teleported away next to the wall just in time. The crowd cheered at the unraveling of his powers. Jongin was glad to have gotten away as quickly as he did, suffering only minimal burns along his arms, but a bit disappointed that he had to use teleporting as soon as he did. Still, he'd try to conserve energy. He dropped the knife from the heat and didn't bother picking it up again. There were more weapons along the wall, some Jongin didn't recognize. He picked out a javelin and pocketed a dagger.
Chanyeol let out a loud scream from behind him, and Jongin almost jumped in fright. He was coming towards him - Jongin pulled a sharp disc off of the wall and chucked it at Chanyeol, just to see what it would do. Chanyeol moved to the side and stepped on it. Jongin almost whimpered when it melted under his feet. There was no way Jongin could use any combat skills without having his skin peel off. He'd have to attack from afar. He threw the javelin and bolted when Chanyeol threw a fireball at it and set it on fire.
Maybe he could just grab weapons and keep throwing them until Chanyeol got tired and started to take a nap, like a dragon. More treasure to add to his pile.
He thought about Wu Fan while running, and thought about how he found Wu Fan and Chanyeol laughing together in the stairwell. It gave him hope then, to be happy even at the end. Jongin turned to study Chanyeol's face. There was no hope here.
This world is such a fucked up place, he thought before leaping to avoid a fireball. He would lose all of his energy at this point, regardless of whether he used his power or not. Maybe he could try the javelin again.
He chucked it at Chanyeol's head, but it was almost too stupid of an attempt, the way Chanyeol craned his head to one side and didn't get hit.
Jongin's arms were starting to hurt from the burns, and everytime he touched one of the weapons, his palms ached and pain stuck his body.
Chanyeol switched his attack to rings of fire, almost like the disc Jongin threw previously. Chanyeol hurled several of them at Jongin, who teleported away after getting hit by two - one in the leg, and another on the shoulder.
It burned, and Jongin found himself closer to Chanyeol's side than he wished to have teleported. He had to attack now though, before he was too weak to carry out an offensive stance.
This was his chance, possibly his own chance. He teleported behind Chanyeol and jumped on him from behind.
He was hot, burning out, and everywhere Jongin touched him burned his skin black. He fell right off, but not before taking out his knife and digging it into Chanyeol's calf.
He screamed, and the ground beneath him burned. He could see flames forming from the ground at the edge of his vision, and it was coming closer to him. He felt too weak, felt too empty. He felt Chanyeol kick the side of his jaw, and there was an eerie crack, but didn't feel the pain. He had to teleport. The skin felt raw where Chanyeol had kicked it, and the fire was coming closer. He looked up and faintly saw Chanyeol's boot coming down on him. He mustered up all of the energy he could and closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he was above Chanyeol, way above Chanyeol, way above the stadium, up in the sky where everything seemed small and tiny and insignificant. Maybe they were. Maybe they were all small and unimportant, but in the mess of all things, he pictured Sehun's face and placed his dagger below his chest, pointing down.
Sehun was important, and he would fight for Sehun.
The ground was coming faster and faster at him, and he could see Chanyeol getting ready to burn him, but he stuck his dagger out further, and counted in his head: three, two, one.
The blade struck Chanyeol right in the middle of his forehead, bulls eye, and Jongin screamed as he pushed it in further, ignoring the melting metal and the burns in his arms and legs and chest and feet and face and and and-
The blood oozed from Chanyeol's face, down onto the sand, littering it a bright cherry red. Everything cooled down, and the buzzer rang.
Nothing registered in his mind until someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto his feet. He looked to the side and saw Seohyun grasping their hands together. She raised his hand above his head - a sign of victory.
"I present to you the winner of the Penalty Game," she announced, and he had no idea how her was voice being carried throughout the stadium. "Kai, the Machine."
The crowd was deafening. He'd never heard them so loud. He could hear them chanting his name again, one big white noise in the back of his head. He felt faint.
Seohyun brought his hand back down, but didn't let go of his hand. "Joohyun," she finally said softly to Jongin. "My real name is Seo Joohyun."
The next part was a blur. He was in the hospital before he knew it, in the emergency room, and then it was dark.
Seohyun - no, Joohyun, was there when he woke up. They were in a hurry, he didn’t know why, body still reeling from the anesthesia. There were bright lights everywhere, the sound of cameras flashing - Jongin didn't even know space used cameras. Joohyun tugged on his hand as she dragged him back down the metal hallway.
Jongin couldn't bring himself to say anything. He hadn't registered what had happened, and he wasn't about to understand now. He couldn't find the words to ask where they were going, but soon he recognized as she swung open the glass doors and ran down the hallway with gold walls, Jongin awkwardly stumbling behind her.
They stopped in front of a large set of wooden doors, the place where the first press conference had started.
Joohyun turned to him suddenly, out of breath. "You won," she said, and the words bounced around Jongin's head for a bit, meaning unclear. "You won, Jongin."
He blinked, disoriented, before he asked, "how do you know my real name?"
"I watch over you," she said, grinning, and for a second Jongin wondered if that was the first time he'd seen such a smile on her face. It was nice. He liked it.
He blinked again, then, "what happens now?"
She couldn't keep the smile off of her face; Jongin found it to be slightly intoxicating, because he could feel the edges of his mouth curving up as well and he didn't know why. "You go in there - don't worry, you don't have to say anything, but you go in there, Eeteuk will probably give a very long speech, and then they'll take lots of pictures. They might ask some questions, you can just ignore those, that's what I did."
"Oh," Jongin said, eyes wide. "You're like me," he breathed out. He looked at her, and he felt that for the first time, he could actually see her. "No; I'm like you."
Joohyun's smile faltered, just for a second, but Jongin had caught it. "No, you're yourself. You have people to meet and lives to live. Now, go in there and go home."
"Come with me," Jongin said, a bit too loudly. "Please. I can't go in there alone."
"I can't go in there."
"Yes you can," Jongin begged. "You're my proctor. You've helped me so far. Help me once more. Please."
He could see her debating with herself, but after a moment, she finally nodded. "Okay. One more time, for good luck." Jongin breathed in relief as Joohyun stood next to Jongin. "The doors are going to open now."
Jongin grabbed Joohyun's hand, and he could feel her stiffen beside him, but he ignored that as he led her down the aisle. The carpet was still red, and there was still a wooden podium in the middle of the stage. There were no chairs this time on stage, and a sort of nostalgia came across Jongin.
He could see Eeteuk looking at them, eyebrows raised in confusion as he glanced between Joohyun and him. Jongin ignored that and stepped onto the stage. Joohyun had stayed back, by the edge of the platform, as Jongin moved forward to Eeteuk.
There were speeches. There were many speeches, none of which Jongin listened to, and there were many pictures taken. Jongin wasn't sure if he smiled for any of them, or if he had even made a notion that he'd noticed them. But something was thrust into his hand, and he looked down to see a small medal.
He almost laughed. All of that - all of the murder, all of the pain, all of the agony, for this. He didn't thank Eeteuk, nor did he greet anyone or answer any questions. He simply walked off stage, Joohyun in tow, and that was the end.
Once he was left alone, he collapsed onto the bed so that he could finally clear his mind and think about everything. He won. He won the game and he won the battles and he won the obstacles and the people and everything and damn he felt sick to his stomach.
Kyungsoo, Jinri, Joonmyun, Yixing, Jongdae, Song Qian, Hyoyeon, Sunyoung, Wu Fan, Soonkyu, Soojung, Amber, Yuri, Lu Han, Chanyeol.
Jongin's conscious pressed down hard on him, until he was suffocating and the only place he could run to was the bathroom. He emptied his stomach there, choking and heaving and goddamnit, why? He'd talked to Yixing, laughed with Soonkyu, rooted for Yuri, ate with Chanyeol.
The sound of something breaking caught his attention and he turned around to see the shattered pieces of the soap bottle on the floor. A stinging pain registered in his hand, and he looked down to see a giant cut on his palm. The blood pooled and dropped off the side, into the mess of soap. It calmed him down a bit, and he sat at the edge of the toilet seat and simply stared at the floor blankly.
Joohyun was in his room in the morning, waiting by the door in another freshly ironed suit, hair pulled back in a slick ponytail.
"Why are you here?" he asked drearily, then groaned.
Joohyun gave a small smile. "You're going home."
There was a pause. Jongin wracked his mind for the meaning of that word. Home. "Sehun," he said aloud, then looked at Joohyun.
She nodded, and watched as Jongin got out of bed and stumbled towards the door. "When?" he asked.
"Whenever you're ready."
"I'm ready."
He followed Joohyun down many stairs and many different hallways, none that he recognized, before he was in front of a steel door bolted in. He stared at the door, then at Joohyun. "That's it?"
"That's it."
It almost felt too easy, all of a sudden. This was it. He would walk past those doors and go home. "What about you?" he asked.
"I'm here. I've always been here. I'll be staying here."
"I wouldn't have been able to win without you," Jongin blurted. Joohyun gave him an amused smile. "This is too quick," he continued. "I can't just suddenly leave. I just won, I haven't said goodbye, and now I'm leaving?"
"Who do you have to say goodbye to?" Joohyun asked.
Jongin paused. He thought about the question for a long time, honestly stumped. "Oh," he said after a long while. "You."
"Goodbye, Jongin."
For once, it felt nice. A goodbye he could live with. A goodbye she could live with. He threw his arms around her and grinned. "Goodbye, Joohyun."
Jongin approached the house slowly, and an emotion he couldn't quite place filled him. It felt like a balloon was stuck in his chest, rising and rising, making his hands and feet jittery.
The house was the same. Same white cobblestone and wood, same grey stone leading to the glass doors. The plants outside were still bright and green, and most important, Sehun was still standing there, smiling.
He should run, maybe jump into his arms and kiss like they do in those movies, or maybe he should cry and let Sehun come to him and hug him and pull him close.
Instead, he trudged onwards, left leg dragging along the floor awkwardly as he made his way down the rock path to the place he'd made him home. Sehun was all teary eyed, and he rubbed at his eye, trying to wipe them away.
He'd forgotten how to cry a long time ago, but the feeling was pretty close.
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