Chapter 12
The boy stood there on the stage, lights glaring, cameras flashing. A stage on where he'd been born to stand. Against other children as the auditorium filled with applause. It had been another triumphant moment for yet another victory bearing award that would be placed in a case with so many others. Ribbons, plaques, trophies, certificates and so much more. Or at least he'd thought so till they'd called his name far to early in second place. A shock seized his system. The audience surged and raved with acclamation but the boy did not share their same enthusiasm. His face paled as dread sapped his strength. Everyone watched him but their joyous cries seemed like mockery. He didn't move
They called his name, "Please come claim your ribbon, no need to be shy." The audience laughed and so did the presenter though hers ended when she saw the horror in his eyes.
"There must be a mistake," the boy said dearly, she shook her head.
"No, you won second, here's your ribbon" she came towards him and he backed away as if she possessed three heads. She tried to pin the ribbon on him and he realized this is real; he had lost. He flinched back as if she'd attempted to stab him. His panic made him hysteric and he screamed.
"I can't lose!"
They called his name
"There has to be a mistake!"
The called his name again.
"Please! There must be some mistake!" The boy screamed audience was hushed by his panic. Murmurs went through the crowd possessing all kinds of disapproving magnitudes.
"Everyone loses sometimes." They tried to calm him but his panic was beyond control. They stared at him as the failure was forced into his hands. He continued to cry; all the students moved away from him while others in the crowd were embarrassed for him.
"Please. . ." the boy sobbed, "I can't go home with this." But he was forced off the stage for being a bad child and ruining the evening. His carpool was waiting for him after they took him to collect his things. He'd stuffed the ribbon into the garbage and planned to claim he'd lost it.
The boy shook harder than he ever had in his life. His hands slick with sweat and perspiration from his stressed nerves. He was lightheaded with terror and stones of anxiety were hot rocks in his stomach, ready to explode proportionally into all out terror. Each lurch of the vehicle made him sicker; bile barely contained in his stomach. When he arrived home he was summoned to his father's study, each step progress to his own imminent lynching. The study was void of all moonlight except the single streak of that illuminated an ominously large trophy case that loomed over the boy. Trophies of assorted sizes stood in the case along with certificates and ribbons. The case itself spanned out the length of an entire of a wall a constant reminder of the failures he wasn't allowed to have.
The boy's father sat behind his desk signing papers with dexterous movements. He barely registered his own son as he entered the room.
"How did you do?" His father's voice boomed to break the quiet. When the boy remained silent his father gazed at him with relative interest. His salt and pepper hair neatly styled, not a single stray hair present. His gaze darkened when the boy's hand remained empty handed. The boy fought down a shudder, his father's gaze had a way of stripping a man down to his soul and unravelling it like DNA. He knew how to read off all weaknesses as if he had blueprints to every unfortunate soul his eyes landed upon..
"Where is your ribbon?" His father inquired coolly
"They actually didn't hand any out," the boy lied. He felt his throat tighten as his father merely stared.
"The acts went into overtime and ribbons will be handed out tomorrow." His father raised a dark eyebrow and stacked his papers together.
"Will they now?" The neatness of everything in the study was only the handiwork of a true perfectionist. It was an office that made every flaw and every lie clear. His father had once told him that as long as he believed any lie with flawless conviction and absolutely no doubt he could fool anyone, even pass lie detector tests. Yet as he stood there trying to put the lesson into practice he told himself he'd just steal the trophy or buy it off the child who had won. His father never had to know. The clank of something hitting the hardwood floor at his feel disrupted his thoughts. The boy dared not look at his father as he stared at the ribbon at his feet.
"That's not what your driver told me." The boy took a step back and tried to quell the shaking of his hands.
"D-Dad, I can explain-"
"Look at me when i speak to you." The boy instantly met his father's gaze and wished he could look away. "You will always meet my eyes, you understand that? Do I look like I was born yesterday?"
"No, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please I'll do better next time." Though the boy begged his father was indifferent. His gaze was gelid enough to freeze the sun.
"Next time?" His father said repeated with utter disdain. His voice so smooth to mask the rage, the boy flinched. "Obviously you think this is a joke," his father laughed without humor.
"No dad, I promise!"
"How dare you waste my time." His father sneered. "Do you think anyone has time for your failure?"
"No," the boy answered quietly.
"Do you think anyone gives a damn about you when you fail like this?"
"I'm sorry," the boy apologized.
"No you're not, else you wouldn't bring this kind of garbage and place it in my face as if you're proud of it."
"Nobody can win all the time dad. My teacher said-" Pain exploded across the boy's face and he hit the floor with a harsh thud. His father's hand left a thick red imprint on his cheek and burned. Each throb of his heartbeat intensifying the effect.
"Your TEACHER said?" His father repeated softly; nearly inaudible but his contempt thick as molasses. "Did I hear you right? You taking advice from someone working a lousy, dead end job?" The boy angled his face so his father couldn't see his tears.
"No father," he said weakly.
"Are you crying?"
"No..." The boy cried but his father yanked him up mercilessly and the boy fought him every step of the way as he tugged him towards the room he dreaded. "I'll give you something to cry about!"
"No please!" The boy screamed. He'd do anything, say anything so that they didn't throw him in that empty room. He wanted to play outside with the other kids, he wanted to do something other than study. He would go slowly insane in that room; in that oppressive emptiness.
"Since you're so intent to throw away the bright future I've slaved away to prepare for you-"
"Father I promise! I promise!" The boy shrieked at the top of his lungs. "I'll do better! Don't put me in there! PLEASE!" He was forced into the room anyway and the door slammed shut. It sealed as it always did but the boy still threw himself at the door. He slammed on it with his fists until they were bruised.
"PLEASE!" The boy screamed. "Parents don't treat their kids like this! Dad!"
"As long as you continue to fail as if you're weak, I have no son." His father stated coldly before walking away. The boy screamed and slammed against the door but nobody heard him, neither of his parents came for him. Eventually he just dropped to the floor and cried silently. It was hours later until he heard light heeled footsteps and knew his mother had come to check on him. He gazed at her with hopeful and mastered innocence in his eyes.
"Mom, let me out. Please, I promise. I'll listen." His smile was flawless and he saw a flicker of guilt flash through his mother's eyes. Then she smiled. It was not a nice smile but one of mandatory approvement..
"You're getting better but it's not perfect. Learn to lie better and I might actually believe you and consider it, Jongin." Then she walked away as the two of them always had. He didn't bother to throw himself against the door again. He dropped limply to floor.
"Don't leave me in here again..."
They did not come to check on him again.
The shock of cold water woke Jongin out of his daze as he stood in the shower. He had goosebumps up his arms and was shaking from the cold till he ordered himself to stop. He got out of the shower and grumbled under his breath. He'd done it again, used all the hot water before Mari had even woken up. Sure enough he'd be in for yet another nagging earful from Mari about how selfish and inconsiderate he was.
"May as well get it over with." Jongim muttered quietly pulling on a pair of trousers and his white button up shirt. His fingers fumbled with the buttons while he expertly nudged the bedroom door open with his foot. His shirt was almost three quarters up before he'd spared one hand to knock quickly on Mari's bedroom door. Jongin only waited a matter of milliseconds before opening the door anyway, assuming Mari was still asleep. However Jongin was not that lucky. Instead Jongin opened the door far too quickly, her room was dim as usual but her pale, slim figure stuck out in the ill lighting. Mari stood next to her bed, her skirt draping down from her hips- but so far that was all she'd managed to put on. For a moment her white bra blended in with the rest of her skin, regardless the moment she noticed that she had company her hand shot to the white shirt thrown carelessly onto her mattress.
"Jongin! Get out!" Her face flushed blood red while she clutched the white fabric to her chest. Jongin simply chuckled as a response.
"I just wanted to let you kno-" he was interrupted by the impact of something soft and fluffy making contact with his face. Mari had thrown a pillow. "I just wanted to let you know." He repeated, "There's no hot water." Jongin went to turn away but paused. "Besides, Mari. Its not like you have that much to look at." His signature smirk crept across his face as he left shutting the door behind him.
As Mari trudged down the stairs she was absolutely livid with Jongin. It seemed as the days went by Jongin found increasingly more awful ways to violate her privacy. She'd never felt so exposed in all her life and having grown up as an only child she was aghast at the disturbance. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she was ready to tear a piece into him. She glared at him for intruding.
"Did anyone ever teach you to knock and wait to be let in? Didn't anyone ever teach you that manners are of the-" but her voice died in her throat as she saw the look on Jongin's face. He had a sadness in his eyes like a mourning puppy before he noticed her in the room and his expression became unreadable.
"Jongin, are you okay?"
His signature smirk was blinding. "Peachy, seeing for myself that you're just as plain half dressed as you are fully gave me some kind of reassurance. Despite the provocative lingerie I saw you purchase the other day."
Mari's smile faded and she crossed the room till only a table stood between her and Jongin. She'd ignored his comment.
"Why are you lying to me?" Her words seemed to have shocked him as if he'd assumed the lie flawless and she'd seen through it.
"Lying that I saw the lingerie or lying that I saw you getting dressed? On both occasions you saw-"
"I'm not talking about that. Jongin if something's wrong-"
"It's late," he interrupted her this time. "I have no interest in being late again."
He was up from the table without another word and putting his shoes on to go. The entire time Mari couldn't help but watch him and he seemed acutely aware of it. Nothing in his posture portrayed that anything was wrong. Yet, caring for Jongin as she did, she refused to drop it.
"Jongin?" He turned around.
"Are you coming or not?"
"I'd be more inclined to if you told me what was troubling you."
"Nothing's wrong, and even if there was why would i confide you?" He laughed though nothing was funny.
"Because I'm here."
"By that logic I should just share my business with everyone."
"I mean really here," Mari said perhaps more fiercely than she'd meant. She started at Jongin harder to convey her message. Held his gaze until her eyes bored into his. The world fell away until it was just the two of them. Jongin shifted noticeably and was the first to look away. Mari used the chance to close a little distance between them, and witnessed the weariness ease into his expression.
"I just have a headache," he said mildly as he turned and opened the door.
"From?"
"You running through my head all night." Mari felt the burst of heat that flooded her face.
"W-What?" Jongin's face remained straight contrary to what Mari expected. Mari managed to swallow the lump in her throat with great difficulty still processing what he said.
"I said I have many sleepless nights because I keep thinking about you. It's troubling me greatly." Mari's heart fluttered in her chest and Jongin smiled at her but it died a second later; his face once again a mask.
"Or at least that's what you wanted me to say, am I wrong?" Mari's own smile fell and she watched as Jongin's eyes glittered with impish delight at her sudden misery. He didn't move so she simply went by him.
"When you feel like talking, I'll still be here."
She walked out the door but Jongin didn't follow. Not that she'd expected him to.
Banners were being hung across the halls, decorative chains of deeply coloured leaves hung from the ceilings and walls bursting with flowers. Vibrant posters from various classes had already begun to decorate the halls along with signs of various sizes. Preparation for the fall festival had begun and was to continue for the rest of the week. Each class had three days to put their activity or event together and all of Friday to execute it. Any free time was left to enjoy the festivities. Normal classes didn't continue so the entire day was spent working hard on activities. The teachers merely roamed and supervised the students, though the festival was a time for them to catch up on work and plan their next courses of action before the winter break. The festival usually ended with a dance around a bonfire and fireworks which was the only thing teachers really handled during the festival. Kirika had no doubt that they took great pride in it as it had always been popular for confessions and sneaking off campus. Students rushed through the halls carrying all manners of things. It was a miracle that nobody had an accident.
Despite all the good cheer, it hadn't headed in Kirika's direction. She'd been scolded for hitting another student and been threatened an immediate suspension if she caused any more trouble. Mari was still an avid supporter of the ignore Kirika club. Suho was in a foul mood. To make matters even better she had a mountain of work to do and her fellow classmates were being awfully uncreative with their ideas. She sighed and focused on her fellow students.
"Doesn't anyone have any good ideas?" Kirika said with obvious irritation. She knew Mari would've had plenty of ideas but Mari wasn't in the classroom. She'd left in a rush earlier and Kirika had no doubt that she wasn't planning on coming back.
"A maid cafe!" The same obnoxious student shouted for the fourth time in the last twenty minutes.
"I'm not comfortable in that kind of attire," a girl with braided hair complained.
"A butler cafe would be better," A different girl giggled.
"If only we had Jongin Oppa in our class," a girl seated next to the first cooed. A chorus of dreamy sighs came from all the girls.
"I'd die if all of them ran a butler cafe."
"What do you think they'd have to say?" Kirika cleared her throat obnoxiously loud.
"Could we focus here!" she shouted. A hush fell over the room.
"We could do a haunted house?"
"No!" Kirika snapped. "Something that will really draw people in!" The class went silent. Obviously out of ideas. Kirika sighed heavily and wished that Mari was there.
"What about a performance?" A boy at the back of the class suggested. "Then we'd be free to enjoy the festival as we like." Kirika thought the idea as half assed but it was something, and she did want to roam the festival with her brother.
"Okay, performance it is. What shall we preform?"
"I can't sing," a girl commented.
"Good for you," Kirika said with far more sarcasm than she'd meant. "What should we preform?"
"We could write a song?" Someone Kirika couldn't see suggested.
"What about a play?"
"What about a cheer performance or something?"
"Kirika in a cheerleader outfit? I'm game," a boy at the back snorted. His friend next to him let out a chortle. Kirika resisted a cringe and avoided looking at them.
"Can't you sing Kirika? The rest of us could just dance." A classmate suggested.
"I want to be in the spotlight," one girl complained.
"Why not set off a chain reaction at the festival entrance every morning?" A boy with glasses commented. "We could make flowers bloom or trigger some confetti." Kirika was shocked to find she didn't hate the idea.
"Okay, how do we set that up?"
"Simple," the boy grinned, "With science."
"Then it's settled then," Kirika stated. "If i can clear it with the teachers then that's what we're doing."
The rest of her morning was filled with jotting down supplies and figuring who was responsible to bring them. When lunch came around the students were still working diligently and she finally found Mari. She stood by herself in the gym looking conflicted and lost. Not a moment was left to hesitation as Kirika approached her. Before Mari could protest Kirika seized her arm and hauled her away from the center of the crowd.
"Let go," Mari ordered but Kirika kept moving despite her friend's struggles. "Kirika!"
"Would you at least hear me out before you isolate me again?" Mari crossed her arms and glared but at least she was listening.
"Tell me one reason why I should listen to you."
"Because I'm your best friend?" Kirika asked with a quizzical tone.
"Wrong answer." Mari stated simply and successfully tore her arm away from Kirika who was far too shocked to object. Mari stormed away into the cluttered halls leaving Kirika behind.
. . .
Kirika bit at the inside of her lip to ward off the temptation of sobbing. Her best friend had been torn away from her life, one stupid mistake and Mari was now gone. What bothered her the most was that there was nothing she could do about it. Kirika pushed through the crowds out into the front garden of the campus in dire need of some fresh air. Students sat in clusters along short stone walls lining each flower bed. The colours fading into that of the fall, but it all looked the same to Kirika. Dreary colours fading into the ultimate and inevitable death of every living thing on this bitter earth. Kirika slumped down onto one of the four wooden benches arranged into a square on the soft grass and let her chest deflate allowing her foul food to consume her. Ruffling of dried leaves notified Kirika of the new presence before her and pending conversation. Kirika dreaded the thought of having to talk to someone. Her eyes shot up to the approaching figure, her gaze cold enough to send a shiver into any living soul- however she was not met by the response she'd hoped for. Instead her gaze was met by a ever so slightly familiar set of eyes with a strange twinge of innocence to them.
"Hey Kiri." Sehun smiled gleefully.
"What do you want." Kirika spat.
"I just wanted to talk, I have something to tell you, Kiri." His smile lingered.
"Don't call me that." Kirika's voice was laced venomously as she spoke.
"Okay Kiri- ka..." Sehun hesitated to finish her name for a second. "I have something to tell you." Sehun stated.
"I'm really not willing to listen to what it-" Sehun cut her off.
"I like you." Sehun stated and all went silent. Kirika scoffed after processing what the young boy had said.
"Stay away from me 'Sehoon', come near me I'll mess up that pretty face of yours." Kirika sneered and walked away with goals of getting as far away from Sehun as she could.
"Huh... That didn't go as planned." Sehun contemplated by himself. "Bluntness didn't work." He stated before heading inside.
. . .
"What do you assume is wrong with this picture?" Lay whispered to Kyungsoo as they sat cutting paper in the gym.
Kyungsoo shrugged. "Suho's mood?" Lay nodded and sighed.
"We've been keeping Jongin and Joon-Myun clear of each other as if they'd cause a chain reaction. Tao, Luhan, and Xiumin are...somewhere keeping tabs on Jongin," Lay said with a point in the other direction.
"Only the span of the gym is keeping them apart," Kyungsoo added.
Baekhyun shook his head, "No, that's not it. They've seemed to switch personalities totally." The boys watched on as Jongin sat in the corner reading a sheet of paper, often laughing to himself suddenly. Meanwhile Suho swore softly each time he messed up a line; pacing wildly. The boys sucked in a breath as he approached.
"Here we go," Kyungsoo sang as he sucked in a breath.
"Can you believe him?" Suho began, going off about Jongin for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. "Absolutely insufferable. Why? Why did I ever tell her to confess to him? What unholy demon possessed-" Suho let out a string of swears that Chanyeol let out a whistle to. The boys looked on as Jongin pulled out a very neatly made lunch and began eating. The simple act triggered a new chorus of swears from Suho.
"Look at him eating lunch over there," Suho snarled.
"Mari's the hot topic here right? Jongin's girl?" Kyungsoo made a throat cutting motion in order for Chen to stop talking. "She's not Jongin's girl," Suho growled. Chen simply shrugged.
"Why don't you just confess to Mari?" Suho sank to the floor with obvious weariness.
"What do you think I did yesterday, moron?" Suho snapped.
"Congrats!" Baekhyun congratulated. "When's the wedding!?" All the boys looked at Baekhyun as if he were an idiot. He seemed even more lost as they did so. "What?"
"He got rejected you idiot," Chen snorted.
"I did not get rejected!" Suho barked.
"Yeah, it went right over her head. Which means you're friendzoned. Which is even worse than rejection," Chanyeol laughed. Suho whipped a pair of creative scissors at him intending to do real harm. Yet the boy only ducked expertly out of the way. "I love you too, Suho," Chanyeol cooed. "Now where did Jongin run off to~?" Suho attacked him but the boys gathered ignored his cries for mercy.
"Do you see that?" Lay motioned towards Jongin who was suddenly surrounded by guys, though he ignored them expertly. The boys seemed to be threatening him about something; Suho stood up immediately and watched intently. One of the boys leaned in real close and whispered something in Jongin's ear. Jongin merely smiled as the boy pulled away but Suho read the words he spoke off his lips. A trait he'd acquired through trying to hear many forbidden phones calls while he'd been younger.
"Do whatever you want, it's none of my concern," Suho mouthed to himself. A pang of uneasiness rocketed through him but he forced a smiled as people walked by him. He had to find Mari and that feeling only grew as he watched Jongin walk out of the room.
. . .
Jongin had been reading through the activity Mari had helped him begin preparing. The girl was full of faults but he had to hand it to her that she was creative. He did give credit where credit was due. He looked over her notes but his favorite was still the candied sushi workshop idea and reflected on how'd they'd come to the choice yesterday night.
"You're good at this aren't you," he'd insisted. "So think of something and I'll pick my favorite." Then he'd proceeded to sit there and look pretty as Mari had called him out on.
"Didn't I tell you I was helping you? This isn't helping, Jongin. You can't just sit there and look pretty." He'd laughed
"What?"
"I'm going to bed if you don't take this seriously," she'd pouted but had shown no real signs of leaving.
"Well, you're boring aren't you? Think of something and I'll handle the rest."
"Thanks," Mari had said sarcastically and managed to shock him by getting up to leave. "Goodnight, Jongin." He'd tugged on her shirt to stop her.
"Come on, Mari. I was messing with you."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have insulted me," she'd stated with a raise of her eyebrow.
"I'll do something for you,, so sit down and tell me your ideas." And she'd returned to her seat obediently before going into a long rant about all her ideas. It was a shame that she'd never been selected as a representative. He noticed that her writing was oddly neat compared to her accident prone traits. He chuckled as he read her instructions about making candied sushi, including her heavy underlining of things like, 'don't add too much water' and 'do not mix powders.' It was only after he'd taken out his lunch and began to eat that he remembered this morning. A smile he hadn't realized had crept onto his face fell.
"When you feel like talking, I'll still be here."
He was used to girls faking around him. Used to having women do nice things for him or offer him other means of comfort. Compared to the kind of deception he was used to, Mari's efforts had been awfully weak. Least, he wanted to believe that. Mari was transparent, there hadn't been a moment he'd been next to her where how she was feeling hadn't been clear in her emotions or the way she acted. He hadn't detected any deception in her offer. She'd stared at him so hard that her gaze had made him unsure, as if the roles had been switched and he were the transparent one.
Jongin took a bite of his lunch and rested his left cheek on his palm. She never failed to capture the rich and fresh taste of the ingredients she used. When had he gotten to this point? Everything around him seemed to radiate Mari's presence. Jongin let out a heavy sigh. He felt...heavy. She couldn't have actually meant what she'd said. Yet what he wanted to believe and what reality had presented him with were two different things; and that was the fact he couldn't get out of his mind.
"Jongin, aren't you having a grand time over here," A male voice interrupted his thoughts but he didn't bother looking up. He heard them snicker. "You can ignore us but we've got dirt on you now, see?" The same young man continued though Jongin paid him no mind he heard the wave of paper.
"Your favorite girl Kakori is getting quite a bit of attention isn't she?" One of the boys let out a chortle. Jongin raised an eyebrow.
"And?"
"Well, we came over to find out why such a plain girl has got you attention."
"She'd doesn't," Jongin said in a monotone. The group of boys tsked.
"That's not what we see," their leader sneered. He slapped the picture down in front of Jongin. He saw it but allowed no alarm to come to his expression. The picture they'd set before him was a snap of Mari and him on the transit. He saw his own fingers playing with her hair but with the way she leaned on him and the faint smirk in his expression, the scene seemed far more tender than it really had been.
"So, what is it about Mari that makes her so appealing? You've never had a girlfriend up until now." Jongin glared.
"She's not my girlfriend."
"She isn't? Perhaps I should take an interest in her then," one of the boys leered.
"You could have anyone you want, so why is she so special? Be honest with us." The lead boy leaned in. "How many times did she have to sleep with you to get you to notice her. She's good in bed right? If she's not your girlfriend then it doesn't matter if we each have our own fun with her." He leaned back out but Jongin kept his face expressionless. The disappointment on the boy's face was clear when Jongin hadn't reacted.
"Perhaps even all at the same time," the sixth boy in this anonymous group laughed. "Since you stole our girlfriends we intend to steal the only girl you've managed to draw close to you." It was so ridiculous Jongin almost laughed.
His father's words came to mind, "The greatest weapon anyone can use against you is your mind by preying on the doubts and uncertainties lurking there."
Jongin smirked.
"Do whatever you want, it's none of my concern," then he did laugh and placed his lunch neatly into his bag.. "I also haven't stolen any girlfriends, you all lost them due to your own incompetence. Placing the blame on me only serves to prove how pathetic you all are." Then he got up and left the room.
. . .
Mari walked through the halls after leaving Kirika. She could hardly see her without the familiar tightening feeling falling over her. But she refuses to cry. She refuses to waste another tear, not any time soon. Mari's heavy footsteps brought her across the school to her locker- which seemed to have already been opened. The lock was taken from its latch and thrown onto the floor. Mari hesitantly opened the door to her locker to see torn segments of paper, her gym clothing and spare uniform jacket soaked in water, dripping all over her class notes. Mari's throat tightened as sobs threatened to escape her lips but they never got so far. She swallowed them down roughly and collected her things, stuffing them in her bag. She heard the giggles of girls behind her as they enjoyed the glee of what they'd done to her.
She was exhausted and just wanted to go home. She reached for her shoes but ugly bright coloured notes fell out of them. The moment she read one, she wished she hadn't. The ugly yet neatly scrawled words of hate gave her blisters of pain and she understood why Kirika hadn't let her read them.
"If you'd just stay away from Jongin Oppa, none of this would continue," A voice behind her sang. Mari shut her eyes tightly. She really couldn't handle them again and she pulled back in revulsion as her regular shoes gave off a smell of death and decay. A new chorus of laughter came from the same group of girls. Mari concentrated on not crying in front of them. She missed Kirika so damn much in that moment.
Then the laughter stopped abruptly and she knew Jongin was walking by. She wished she could sink into the farthest hole as she felt him stop behind her. A minute passed and he didn't move; so she looked at him.
"Jongin, this isn't-"
"Would you move out of the way so I can go home?" It was like the final strike on her coffin and she stood, moving out of Jongin's way. Either not noticing or not caring about her distress. Why had she convinced herself that he might be there to help her out? Were they really not close at all…? She thought of tugging on his sleeve and asking him if he was serious. Her hand stayed limply at her side; her throat dry as a thick lump formed. Her tears began to fall without her permission.
"Aww, told you that you were an eyesore to Jongin Oppa," One of the girls cackled. Mari felt numb.
"Do you get it now?" A different thicker girl snorted. "Jongin will never like you."
"Yeah," another girl chimed in. "It's honestly unsightly how desperate you are."
"Know your place." Those words echoed inside her again. Just as painful as the first time she'd heard them from Jongin himself. She turned to face the girls and glared at them through her tears.
"Oh gosh, she's crying!" They merely laughed harder. The prettiest girl of the group uncapped her water bottle and Mari flinched away when the girl went to throw it on her.
She didn't feel the water hit her. She did however hear the splash and a mortified gasp from the girls. When she opened her eyes, Suho's back wasn't difficult to recognize. Though he was drenched in water. It dripped from his hair and he pushed it out of his eyes, One girl in the group blushed hotly.
"S-Suho, we didn't mean-"
"Didn't mean what?" He interrupted. "To purposely destroy another girl's property out of petty jealousy or the senseless, unseemly harassment of a girl with more backbone than all of you combined?" The lot of them lurched back as if they'd been slapped. "Mari's plain? Mari's an eyesore?" He went on calmly. "The envy you're all consumed with is sickening." Mari didn't couldn't see Suho's face but his words were fierce enough. She didn't see the dejected glower he shot them "How unattractive."
Mari heard soft sobs from the group as Suho yanked her harshly in the other direction behind him. She barely had time to scoop up her things but he, much like yesterday was determined not to let go. He'd half dragged her the entire way to her house before she shouted that his grip was hurting her and he dropped her wrist. Yet not without spinning to face her. She sniffled and wiped at tears that had been running down her cheeks.
"What do I have to do to get you to listen to me, Mari?" He demanded suddenly.
"What?" She was confused. She didn't understand why he was so upset. He'd never looked at her the way he was now and she couldn't figure what she'd done wrong to deserve it.
"How many times do I have to tell you that Jongin is a horrible person before you listen to me?" He demanded more harshly. Mari felt a stab of pain as she remembered Jongin walking right by her.
"Suho, I don't understand…"
"Do you ever?" He growled.
"This isn't my fault," Mari retaliated as she teared up. "Jongin isn't always that way."
"Then if I also walk away from you like Jongin does will you notice me then…?" Suho said, his voice no longer quite as aggressive as fresh tears pooled down her cheeks. He wasn't making any sense. Why was he so upset? She'd just had enough of today. Enough was enough.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Mari asked with honest confusion. "Why are you so upset all of a sudden?"
"Do you like to be treated terribly? Are you some kind of masochist?" Suho ran his fingers through his hands with obvious frustration.
"Weren't you the one who said-"
"I lied, Mari! Has it ever occured to you that there are other people who might actually be in love with you!" He shouted as if at the end of his string. Mari was speechless and a horror crept through Suho's face as realization dawned. Silence descended on them. She couldn't look at him. She was afraid to. In all the years she'd known him he'd never yelled at her, she hadn't known him capable of such volume; of such fury. Something about him had been wrong since yesterday evening. Some important part dreadfully off and left unchecked.
She felt him step forward more than she heard him and she flinched away from him. He was persistent however as if the situation weren't real and kept moving closer. Mari stumbled backward till she found her back against the wall.
"Mari…" his voice was laced with so much tenderness that she almost didn't believe he'd shouted. "Please look at me…" She didn't and she heard him swallow. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"I think it's better if I just go..." Mari stated, though her voice was a whisper. She used her hands to put distance between them but it wasn't needed, Suho had already moved. She still couldn't meet his gaze but the agony she heard in his voice as he spoke a single word nearly broke her.
"Mari."
"You're not yourself today, so I'm going….but thank you for helping me." She began to walk but she felt his hands brush her wrist and she tugged away almost violently. "Please don't touch me. Not till you're you again." But she found herself pulled tightly against him, his arms around her tightly.
"I'm sorry," he breathed. Mari opened her mouth to speak but it died in her throat when she met his gaze.
"Suho, let go…"
"As long as it keeps you from being upset with me," Suho whispered so lowly that Mari almost didn't catch what he said. "I'll keep you here as long as it takes."
"Is it really that important to you if I'm upset with you or not?" His gaze was steady, nearly hypnotic in its intensity. If she'd had any doubt his voice was firm and any lingering traces of doubt evaporated with it.
"Yes, it is." She felt his hand ghost over hers. "I care about you too much not to be worried and fretting about whether you're upset."
She felt the development of tears but managed to blink them away. That's when she felt his forehead touch hers. His nearness calmed her shaky nerves and when she met his gaze she felt chided. She couldn't stay mad at him. He had that effect on people. All the anger had gone out of him, replaced by a heavy tiredness that sleep had no cure for.
"Suho," Mari sighed. "Are you trying to tell me something?" He seemed pained. His mouth opened and closed many times then he finally settled on letting her go.
His gaze softened and he smiled. "Just that you're...great. A lot greater than you give yourself credit for."
"If I'm so great then where is this guy you say loves me so much?" Mari asked. She didn't miss how Suho froze at her words. There was something in his gaze that matched what he said next.
"Maybe he's a lot closer than you give him merit for."
Mari smiled sadly. "Jongin doesn't like me, Suho." She watched him shift before he sighed.
"I wasn't referring to Jongin."
"Well, I'll keep a look out," Mari laughed. It came out as a sad and wounded little sound. She moved Suho's arms away from her and turned. This time he let her walk. She was nearing the corner when she heard his voice.
"Mari, I..." She looked at him but she still wasn't really seeing him. Even after they'd argued. Even after he'd pulled her close. His throat closed up and the words died before they ever lived anywhere except in his head. He simply waved and she waved then began walking away again. And he could only regret not having the courage to say the words when he could've.
"You're strong, Suho…"
He remembered her telling him that and yet as he stood there he couldn't help but feel mocked.
"Strong? Yeah right." Suho laughed bitterly as hot tears stained his cheeks.
