Author notes: So... this is my first time writing in the Mystic Messenger fandom, Yoosung Kim is my main bae and his bad ending shattered my heart in a million pieces. And since I like to torture myself... well, here we are. I apologize in advance for any grammar and spelling mistakes, since English is not my first language. Any criticism will be welcome. Thanks a lot for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!
I was 21 when I died. It was my birthday. It was warm, and the day was clear and beautiful. It rained the day before, and the grass under my bare feet was wet and cool. It was very refreshing and nice.
I know it was my birthday because my killer said so. He said it was a birthday gift, and when I think about it I believe he was saying the truth. Killing me was the best he could do for me at that moment. I wasn't afraid. Actually… I wanted that. I wanted it to be over. At that point, I had nothing else to hold onto, nothing to wait for, nothing to believe in. All I could hope for was the silent embrace of the end.
Every day was the same. It was always dark, and I was always in pain. Since that day, when I came here looking for answers and ended up locked, all I could see was the dim light coming from the hallway. Once a day, maybe twice, maybe none, I heard steps coming down the hallway towards my cell. And I knew what followed those steps, every single time.
He never told me his name. Something in him was familiar, in a twisted way I couldn't really understand. And very quickly it stopped having any meaning or importance, as those steps became a signal of fear and pain.
He beat me.
He tortured me.
More than once, I saw my own blood stain the floor under me.
More than once, I thought I wouldn't survive the night.
More than once, I was sent back to my cage, my body covered in new bruises, every cell begging for mercy, for something to put an end on that torment. And I wondered…
Why am I still here?
Why do I have to go through this?
Do I deserve it?
Is it worth the pain?
And then, I remember why I'm here.
I never knew your true name. I knew the nickname you used in our chatroom, and after a while, it became your actual name to me. Maybe I should have asked. I also assumed your profile pic was actually yours, and even though it was small and hard to see, very quickly I learned to love everything I saw there. It was fast, but I knew it was real.
I knew I loved you. And I knew you loved me.
And you were so scared, so angry. Of course! That whole mess you were pulled into, who wouldn't be angry about it? Who wouldn't be angry and anxious and scared with everything happening like that? The lies, the secrets, the dangers… of course you were suffering. And I couldn't just sit down and watch. I couldn't…
…
…
…
...I got lost in thought again. Everything feels so blurry and misty. I feel I'm losing grip on reality, and I'm not sure it's a bad thing.
I remember the day I died, and I remember it was my birthday. March 12th. Winter was about to end, giving place to spring, and the sunlight already welcomed the early flowers and birds who didn't care about calendars and insisted in coming anyway. It was really early in the morning, and the air was still cold. At that moment, I was feeling at peace. Or, better than that, I wasn't feeling anything in particular. Weird…
People say that, when you're facing death, your life passes right in front of your eyes. Maybe it was because I had too much time to think and rethink my life over and over and over again, but it didn't happen. No memories came. No flashes, no images, nothing. All I had was the perception of the world around me, the sun on my skin, the wet grass under my feet, the chilly wind on my face. Fragments of reality that made me feel very… alive.
Maybe that was the answer. After spending so long - how long was it? - locked in a dark place, everything else seemed so different. And I was grateful to have the reminder that, despite everything, life went on, the sun still rose, the rain still fell. The world would go on, with me on it or not. And they would go on with their lives.
Would they forget me?
Did they, already?
…
…
…
I kept on fighting because that man threatened everybody I knew. He said if I gave up, if I died, he would come for them. And, for what looked like an eternity, I endured it all. I thought it was my mission, my reason to be, to live and die and suffer to protect you. And, as the months went by, he became more and more cruel, making fun of me and my suffering, torturing me for longer, breaking my mind just as much as he was breaking my body. During his games, he mentioned fragments of his life, loose and disconnected from reality. He talked a lot about the "savior" who abandoned him, the mother who hurt him, the brother who abandoned him. Sometimes, he seemed to forget I was even there for a moment, only to snap out of it even more bloodthirsty and violent than before.
But I endured it. The moment I gave up on my own life for you was my best moment, and I needed to ensure you would remain safe. I endured being punished for the sins of other people, people I didn't know, people who broke that man in ways I couldn't even imagine. And, to be honest, I started sympathizing with him. He was a broken, desperate man. And he was trying to break me so he could punish the ones who hurt him in the past.
So naive… so ridiculously naive…
I guess I just didn't have enough strength to be angry or to hate him. No. Sympathy and compassion were easier and far less harmful. When I still had illusions of somehow surviving and running away, I thought it would be best if I didn't hate him or seek revenge on him, and instead only try to carry on with my life the best way I could. And when I stopped believing I'd ever get out of that placer alive, I still didn't hate him. Instead… I pitied him.
But he would never know that. I barely talked. I even tried not to scream as he pierced and smashed and burned and twisted any part of my body he wanted. After a while, the pain became a part of my life, and I couldn't remember anymore what was life without it.
...and I thought of you every day. Every. Single. Day. And it kept me going for a long time.
But I couldn't take it for much longer anymore. My body, deteriorating quickly and healing slowly, couldn't take it for much longer. I was going to die, and all my efforts would be in vain. He would come for you, and for the others, and I felt there was nothing I could do to stop him this time. My useless body wouldn't let me. My useless mind accepted it.
…
…
…
…
One day, that man was different. He looked deeply troubled and confused, and walked in circles in front of my cell, muttering to himself. I only stared at him, who looked almost unaware of my presence there, and remained silent. And, after what looked like forever, he looked deep inside my eyes, and said in a low voice.
"Someone came. My Savior… she… she didn't abandon me after all…"
Savior? She? I remembered him mentioning his savior, but I never thought it was an actual person, let alone a woman. I think he could read the confusion on my face, and with a disgusted tone, continued talking.
"She also wants to see you. Apparently she wants to know you and see if you're fit for our paradise. But I know you're not. Thanks to you, the traitor got away, and people who help traitors have no place in paradise!"
Paradise…
Rika talked a lot about paradise. She said that, in her religion, they believed the paradise was a beautiful place, full of peace and joy, where the souls of good people could find rest after death. For a moment, that thought comforted me. Would I be allowed into paradise after I died? Maybe… maybe I could close my eyes for good, only to open them in a beautiful field of flowers and sunlight…
Rika... Were you proud of me, up there in heaven?
Would you come and find me there?
Lost in those thoughts, I didn't notice when that man looked at the door and walked away, like he was being commanded to leave. I only noticed a short figure, dressed in a luxurious robe with a hood hiding their face, who remained silent for the longest time.
"Are you…", my voice was so weak… My throat was dry and wounded, and even with my best efforts all the sound I could produce was a low whisper. "Are you the… Savior?"
No answer. Something was off. I felt like that person was analyzing me, somehow.
"The man who was here before… he said you are his Savior", I insisted. "Are you?"
"I can be many things." And then, a familiar voice. A voice that, I thought, came from my own mind. "Saeran sees me as his Savior, but I'm a mere instrument. And I can bring salvation to you too… Yoosung."
And then, she took off her hood.
It couldn't be. Was it… Rika…? A different Rika, with stern eyes and a blank and emotionless expression. But my eyes wouldn't lie to me. It was her. It must be.
"R-rika…" was all I could say, as I tried to smile (when was the last time I did that?)
"I'll go right to the point", she didn't let me go on. "You are a good young man, Yoosung. I can forgive your sins, and bring you with us, to the everlasting Paradise. You can leave everything behind… your pain, your fear… all the lies you've been told about me, about the RFA… about V… Those memories will be destroyed to give place to new ones, incredible ones."
Those names… it seemed like forever since I last heard of them. And thinking of the RFA ultimately led me to think about you, again. The person I loved. And now, I was being offered a chance to leave it all behind. It was tempting, indeed. A chance to leave the pain behind, a chance to stop the suffering.
"No." It was tempting, but not tempting enough. Leaving everything behind would mean leaving you behind. And the memory of you was all I had left. Leaving you behind would mean leaving myself behind, the best part of me, and I couldn't let that happen. "I'm sorry, I can't accept your offer."
Her expression remained the same, but she stared at me more intently than before, like she was choosing her next words. But she remained silent for a long time. Did I say something wrong? Probably…
"Is this your choice, Yoosung? Are you sure of it?"
"Yes". I tried to smile again. "I can't go to your Paradise if it means to forget everything I have here. I simply can't."
"I'm offering you a chance to save your life, and your soul. Do you still refuse it?"
"Yes. At this point…" I had to stop to cough, and noticed my hand covered in blood. "At this point I don't think there's anything you can do to save me. But…"
"But…?"
"Can I ask you something?"
She didn't answer, and I decided to ask anyway.
"Could you please… spare the others? You see… they are my friends, and they're not guilty of the lies they've been told. I want them to have a chance… Zen… Jaehee… Seven… Jumin… and… and…"
Your name. I couldn't say it. But I know she knew who I was talking about.
"If you want someone to punish… someone to pay for any of their crimes, whatever they might me… just use me. But leave them alone. All of them."
More silence. Was she thinking about it?
"Saeran." She said, out loud. "Come here."
He came back. So his name was Saeran. He looked hurt, but remained silent. It was obvious he didn't agree in letting me talk to her.
"End him." Her voice was empty of emotion. "Your little game has no point anymore. Come back to us, Saeran. We can start over."
My heart stopped for a few seconds. So that was how it would end? She wouldn't even give me an answer?
"And one more thing", she added. "Leave the RFA alone. They're neutralized now and can't do us any harm. When you come back, we'll start again, and we'll keep aiming for our Paradise. Got it?"
"Y-yes, my Savior". His voice trembled. "I'll do as you say."
"And Yoosung… happy birthday. And goodbye." And she left, without giving a second glance to me. So it was my birthday. And she remembered. For some reason, that made me happy for a tiny second. It was still Rika, even though she was different. It was still her.
And then, I finally got to gather my thoughts.
I was going to die, after all. Not slowly and painfully, but quickly. I was going to die.
But they would be safe, after all. You would be safe. And, knowing this, I could leave without any regrets.
"Your birthday, eh?", Saeran regained his composure and mocked me. "Seems like our Savior decided to give you a gift. Don't worry, I'll keep my promise. I'm loyal, after all, not some backstabbing jerk like some of your oh so precious RFA friends. Come. We'll take a walk."
He opened my cage and pulled me upstairs. It was hard to walk, hard to stand. I felt my legs would stop obeying me at any moment. But, for those last steps, I needed to remain as strong as possible. If I was about to meet my end, I'd do it on my own legs. Even if they didn't have any strength left, they would have to carry me for a while longer.
…
…
…
I was 21 when I died.
It was my birthday.
The sunlight hurt my eyes. The wet grass caressed my feet. The chilly wind involved me.
And, in these 21 years of life, nothing made me happier and more proud than that moment. I always wanted to love someone so much their life would be more important than my own. I always wanted to live and die for someone else, to tie my own destiny to someone else's. And those 10 days I spent with you gave me this. I was happy I got to experience love before the end, and happy that I could do something, in the end, to keep you safe.
I only regret not having asked your name, or seeing you, at least once. But the you who lives in my dreams is beautiful, and I know the real you is just as beautiful, or even more.
Please, my dear. Be happy, and be safe. I won't get mad if you love someone else, too. But you'll always have the best part of my heart with you, so please, treasure it. This is the part of me that will live on, so make the best of it by being happy.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
And I didn't feel the bullet tearing my flesh apart and piercing right through my heart. I didn't feel the pain, or the exhaustion, or the fear, or anything else. I was filled with love, and love was the last thought I carried from this Earth.
I'll wait for you, my dear. And I'll keep watching over you. Wherever I go, I'll keep watching over you.
Goodbye. Don't forget me. I won't forget you. Ever.