♡

FEBRUARY 11

   He had to know.

   Three days and nights of wondering 'why, why, why can't I remember?' had rendered Minho restless, almost more so than the endlessly replaying, haunting memory of Hyunjin's shocked face and stuttery words from the other night.

    It was torture, and on his own Minho could find no way out. He wasn't getting anywhere, either in his attempts to figure out a better way to try and fix himself or to reach back in his memory and find the place where things went south. ...And he felt like something had to be done, sooner rather than later, because he had a feeling that unpleasant things would start happening if he waited— like Hyunjin finally spilling the secret (which he evidently had not done yet, since Minho wasn't getting stared at or anything when he was with the other boys) or Jisung checking up on him as always, which would probably be as uncomfortable as ever... there was also the fact that he knew by now that he was bound to start deteriorating and getting desperate and unpredictable again, like a ticking time bomb.

    So now was the time to act. And today, Minho was in a strange mood, where he felt like he had to do something drastic.

   The truth was that no one else knew what went on inside his mind. Even Jisung, with what he had unfortunately witnessed thus far, could not understand the intensity of the endless crashing waves of his conscience, though he seemed to sense a portion of how much they weighed on Minho.

   For the past three days, (and this evening especially), Minho had been mulling over Jisung's words from the other night.

'Maybe you should try talking to Chan hyung about this...'

   ...When it finally occurred to Jisung that Minho just might be seriously messed up (rather than just gloomy and reserved), it seemed, his first thought was to send him off to Chan to be fixed. That was upsetting in multiple ways. At first, the idea of willingly explaining what was going on with him was so repulsive to an already-agitated, nauseated Minho that it made him puke, but... maybe Jisung had a point.

   Had circumstances been different (as in, if Chan weren't always so busy and run down and preoccupied), Minho might have ended up coming to him instead of Jisung on those nights when he got desperate.

   For the most part, Chan tended to be very mellow and had a way of mellowing everything around him (it even worked on Minho to some extent). Like Jisung said, he had a way with words, and he was evidently quite perceptive. 

   He was like Jisung, but chill. A busier, more tired version of Jisung that probably didn't have the time or energy to get seriously and passionately involved with Minho the way that Jisung had... that was why it felt like Minho just might be able to talk to him. Because even if Minho allowed him to see a small portion of the things he was dealing with, Chan wouldn't be constantly prodding at Minho the way Jisung did afterwards. 

(And he didn't seem to be quite as... touchy-feely— or emotional— as Jisung, and that showed a lot in the way that each of them spoke, so Minho found himself being less uncomfortable while listening to Chan most of the time.)

   After sitting in his room alone for hours considering it, Minho had finally talked himself into it/psyched himself up enough to finally do it. Probably. Once again, his mind was split into two: one half telling him that it didn't matter that he wasn't getting anywhere in his endeavors, he should absolutely not be blabbering to anyone about his problems, because that was weak and pathetic; one half telling him that it was the brave thing to do because he was incredibly afraid of doing it (despite the fact that he felt a vague but powerful satisfaction when he considered that he was truly afraid of it)  In the end, the latter won out. He'd been through these sorts of situations many times before, and until recently it was always the former that he listened to.

   Breathing deeply, hoping to calm the creeping guilt provided by the side of his mind that forbade and condemned asking for help, Minho stood from his desk chair and shuffled to the door of his room.

   He wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his pants and opened the door with his eyes squeezed shut. Which is why he didn't see what he was about to walk into.

   Why on earth did Hyunjin have to walk in at all the worst times?

   Preoccupied with his mental turmoil, Minho paid no attention to what was right in front of him and bumped straight into Hwang Hyunjin. Literally. Minho felt their shoulders collide.

   Anyone watching would've laughed, because both boys had the same panicked, dramatic reaction to knocking into one another (though for entirely different reasons). Their eyes flew wide open as they scrambled away from each other, then, upon recognizing each other and remembering the terms they were on, looking towards the ground. However, Minho and Hyunjin were both far too uncomfortable to find any sort of humor in the encounter.

   Hyunjin started opening his mouth and making stuttery noises as if he meant to explain himself or apologize, but after blinking away some of the shock, Minho shivered and sped off towards the stairwell.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

UUUHGHHGHH WHY WHY WHY

why me. why today. why.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

   Minho was so perturbed that he only got two or so steps away before he started scratching. Hard. Wherever he and Hyunjin had made contact. It burned so badly. Minho knew every spot that he needed to clean off, because he could still feel the sensation of Hyunjin's skin being pressed against his as if they had never moved away from each other.

    Usually, Minho would wait until he was completely alone to react like this (when no one could see it), but this time he just couldn't stand to wait.

   He needed the sensation gone as quickly as possible if he were to do anything but wallow in disgust for the next hour or so. The fastest way to do that was to reach under his sleeve and scratch off the skin in every area that was still crawling with repulsion.

   As he pushed on toward the stairwell, Minho left deep, reddish gashes on his shoulder and part of his chest and arm, the type that came with a dead-skin-covered dent at the top and white lines between. 

okay don't think about it. don't think about it. it'll be fine if i just don't think about it. right?? i can get on with my day right??

   Minho pulled his hand out of his shirt, leaning against the wall in the stairwell that shielded him from the view of anyone standing in the hallway. He tried to convince himself not to gag, or even hold his breath in discomfort. Rather, he took another deep breath, shook his whole body out (in an attempt to reset himself somehow) and tried to focus all his energy into climbing the steps.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

nothing happened.

left foot. right foot.

can't even think about where i'm going.

don't think.

oh wait, shouldn't i be thinking about what i'm going to say? shit, what if i can't say anything? and then we just end up staring at each other???

...but wouldn't that be better than actually talking?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

Confessing his embarrassing feelings to Jisung little by little had been so difficult and so hard on him, so how was this going to go?

     Would his throat get too tight to force out any sorts of words? Would his jaw chatter or would his stomach do discontented backflips until he puked again?

   Clearly, his body rejected the act of speaking. ...And that's how Minho wanted it to be, but this time it was inconvenient.

    What if Chan just laughed at him? Surely not everyone could be as incredibly understanding and open-minded as Jisung, who had seen him at his worst multiple times and somehow made him feel like maybe he didn't need to cut off all contact and pretend they never met.

    He paused. His feet froze in their place, leaving him stranded, only two steps up a staircase that he was no longer sure he wanted to climb. He gripped the railing hard, squeezing it as he gritted his teeth. 

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

one time.

even if i end up not being able to say a word, i'll try one time, to see if he can help me figure this out. to find out what happened to me. somehow. hopefully without spilling all my pathetic guts. i hope i can keep at least some of my dignity intact. my entirely fake dignity.

i wish i could do it on my own... i want to be able to fix myself alone so, so badly, but i have to do this quick, before more humiliating things happen and my life crumbles before my eyes again and i'm all out in the open for everyone to see how pathetic i am.

 i'm stuck in the middle of the two sides of my mind, and i can't seem to get anywhere. i'm so tired of trying to do this alone. it doesn't work. why can't i just be strong enough.

maybe i can be if i just go on a little longer... maybe i shouldn't do this after all...

...no, i have to try.

 it's going to take actual strength to do this.

i always pretend to be strong just by covering my weaknesses and guarding them like my life depends on it.

maybe this won't work for me in the end, but for once in my life, i'm going to try. or keep trying, anyway. i guess i already started trying, so this is the hard part. keeping on going.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

   He dragged his heavy feet up each step and pressed on, on and on, up until the moment he saw Chan walking out of his room, towards him at the top of the stairs, distractedly adjusting the headphones he had on as he habitually started toward the right of the staircase, until he noticed Minho and stopped in his tracks, head tilting.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

    oh boy.

    i thought i'd at least have until i got to the door to try working up a little more of the courage i clearly don't have.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

   Chan pushed one side of his headphones away from his ear. "Minho?"

    He was probably wondering what the heck Minho was doing upstairs. Again, Minho hadn't really been coming up to hang out with the rest of them for quite some time, and it was unlike him to come at such a random time, by himself.

     Minho gulped, hoping he wouldn't sound too terribly disturbed as he answered, "Hi. You busy?"

    Chan shook his head. "I don't have work for another two hours. Why? What's up?"

     "Can we talk?"

     "Like, in private?" Chan asked, pulling his headphones off entirely. There was a note of surprise in his voice, though he seemed to be trying to cover it, probably to keep from discouraging Minho.

     Minho nodded, while avoiding eye contact.

    "Sure." Chan turned around, leading Minho right back to his room. Minho felt yet another pang of guilt for messing with whatever plans Chan had. "Honestly, I've been wanting to talk with you, too, but I didn't know how to go about it."

     Minho gulped. That sounded ominous...

   As they walked to the room, (for Chan, as he walked back to the room) Minho felt a similar dread to the few times he remembered walking upstairs as a kid after being called into his parents' bedroom to be lectured; when he was in trouble. They walked into 2Chan's room and Changbin was there, headphones on and lying flat on his bed, wiggling his head and toes to whatever he was listening to, when he saw Chan had returned so quickly, he stopped his moving and shot Chan a confused glance.  When Minho walked into view behind Chan, Changbin looked bewildered, with his tilted head and furrowed eyebrows.

   Minho was discouraged when he saw the room not empty (especially with that face Changbin was making), but it wasn't a problem for Chan.

    Chan left Minho at the door and crawled onto Changbin's bed, all smiley while he poked at his stomach until he removed his headphones.

    "Changbin-ah~ I think Felix wants you to hang out with him," Chan cooed, pulling Changbin's leg (both literally and figuratively).

    Changbin's ears visibly heated up. Not that Minho was looking. "F-felix? What?"

    Chan dropped the teasing tone and gave it to him straight. "Minho and I need the room for a bit, okay?" An extra twinge of uneasiness was added when Minho saw Changbin raise an eyebrow. A few seconds later, Chan added, "But seriously, Felix probably does want to hang out with you. Be a big boy and go ask him."

   (Minho was very grateful to Chan for speaking vaguely and providing an incentive for Changbin to get out without making a fuss— and now, come to think of it, though he wished the timing had been slightly different, he was glad Hyunjin had come downstairs earlier.)

   Had Minho been feeling a little closer to lighthearted right now, he easily could've made a short joke to follow that up. But then again, he did want Changbin to be nice to him today.  This was either going to happen when Chan and he were totally alone, or it wouldn't happen at all.

    "Yeah, whatever." Changbin left the headphones on the bed and exited quickly, only stopping to put on his slippers.

    "Okay, come sit." Chan all but dragged Minho (motioning vigorously instead of grabbing his wrist or something for obvious reasons) to the 'spare' bed, which was always messy ever since Hyunjin claimed it. They sat at opposite ends, quietly. Minho found that sitting on a bed made this feel even harder. Just because he was weird like that.  "So. You wanna go first, or should I?"

     "You go, please," Minho urged. He was already feeling his head swim with anxiety and was hoping, though he knew it was in vain, that if he waited a little longer, he could calm down a little.

    "Okay. If I may... What's up with you and Jisung?"

    Minho immediately went wide-eyed, panicking.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

wow, okay— straight to the point.

 i sort of hoped i'd be able to do this without us mentioning jisung at all, but i guess that was a stupid thing to hope for at this point...

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

   So Hyunjin was telling people what he stumbled in on the other day? The quickly-rising panic in him burst out with a betrayed-sounding: "Hyunjin told you?!"

    "Huh?" Chan cocked his head. "Hyunjin didn't say anything about you guys." Minho visibly relaxed at that, but Chan looked very confused. Still, he continued. "I was just saying— it used to seem like, out of all of us, you were the most apprehensive towards Jisung. I mean, he got you worked up enough to yell, and I don't think I've ever seen you react that strongly to anyone before. But, now, you guys seem like you're acting... closer, I guess?"

   Minho definitely did not like that.

   "...And I've definitely never seen you do that with anyone before." Chan paused, but seeing that Minho was taking his time to think of an appropriate response, he tacked on, "Plus, you... let him touch you... and I see you— at least I used to see you—  flinch away when anyone so much as comes near you."

    Minho sighed, feeling his tongue slip out of his control somehow. Probably because he was incredibly nervous and his mind was muddled— anything but clear. Half of him was saying 'why not tell Chan hyung everything?'.

   "You want to know what's up? Half the time—" Minho sucked in a tight, petrified breath through his teeth before he revealed the biggest secret he'd ever kept. " Half the time, I can't sleep unless Jisung holds me."

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

wait a minute—

i should NOT have said that. 

WHAT THE HECK? why did my mouth just say that??

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

    The effects of suddenly saying such a thing were evidently taking their time to come down on Minho. Because for now, for those first few seconds, all that he got as a consequence was a pair of wide eyes. Which matched Chan's.

    Chan was shocked. It took a few seconds for him to blink away the huge, surprised eyes, during which the taste of bile started to settle on Minho's tongue and he felt nauseous, wondering how he could've said something so... what could he even call it but repulsive? It was just so inexplicably gross. It was as if repulsion and discomfort were the only two things he knew.

    "...And this has been going on for a while?"

    It was too late to take it back. Minho nodded, ashamed.

    "Did it start around Christmas?"

    Minho was surprised enough by that to actually meet Chan's eyes and speak up, though he still spoke quietly and hesitantly. "...Yeah, actually. How'd you know?"

    "Just watching."

    "That's... unsettling." As always, Minho would've preferred that no one was watching. But typically, he wouldn't have voiced that...

    "What happened with Hyun, though?"

    "He... um... walked in while we were—" Minho stopped, both realizing what he was about to say and recalling the nasty memory. He tried to cover his disgust, but he was only able to lessen it as he ended up wincing.

    "Ah," Chan chuckled, putting a momentary end to his suffering, because he got the hint. "He's probably too scared to tell anyone. I don't think you need to worry." And then he put on a more serious face to get the conversation back on track. "Anyway. What changed? Last I knew, you hated being touched.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

but i still do! 

sometimes i get confused but i hate it! that whole thing with hyunjin five or so minutes ago just proves it! 

...for the hundredth time, i feel like i shouldn't be talking about this stuff but. today, i'm gonna say it. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

   "I... I dunno. It's gotten complicated recently, but it used to always be that it made me feel... um, I dunno— shuddery and anxious and gross and sick to my stomach? Like something got on me and I needed to wash it off, even if it's just with my hands." While his stomach turned discontentedly as a direct result of his words, he chuckled nervously to show that what he was about to say was ridiculous. "Jisung thinks I'm traumatized," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and curling his upper lip.

"You aren't?" Chan confirmed, sounding genuinely curious.

"No!" Minho insisted, coming off too strong to be believed, again. Why could he not control himself when it came to this?

Chan threw his hands up to say he'd back off. "Okay, sorry."

Minho scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. Why did he have to yell that?

"...But, I understand why he would think that. What you've described— you know, the shaking and needing to clean yourself off— it almost makes me think of... an allergic reaction, y'know? Like if you eat something and break out in hives."

Minho nodded slowly. That was an interesting way to think of it. He certainly wasn't used to other people thinking about it. It was beyond weird to hear someone else try to put a sensation he'd felt— without mentioning it to anyone— for years into words.

"So you know that allergies are your immune system overreacting because it thinks something is harmful or dangerous so it goes to get rid of it, yeah? Well, I'm guessing this isn't something that comes from your immune system— it's in your mind." Chan paused, gathering up a few more thoughts to share. "I think that Jisung probably understands that there's gotta be a reason for an 'allergic reaction' like that to occur. Something that happened, probably when you were little." Another pause. "...Are you absolutely sure nothing happened? You had a good childhood and everything?"

well... i wouldn't say a good childhood... but...

Because, this time, Minho was sort of prepared to be asked this, he was able to come up with a less emotional, more believable, and truer response.

"Um... Honestly..." Minho still wasn't good at being honest, but here he was, trying. "...I don't know. I really can't remember."

What he remembered most from his childhood was a general sense of unease, but not many specifics. No big events that would've labeled him 'traumatized'.

"Then, if you don't mind me asking, why does it upset you so much to be asked that? Why does it upset you that Jisung thinks you're traumatized?"

『 ↳✧･ﾟ

it hurts...

the memory is faint and sort of vague but the way i can still hear her scoffing at me, and i can still see her rolling her eyes—

it's not fair! she was supposed to accept me, not make fun of me. i was only doing what i was supposed to! 

it's so unfair!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 』

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

no cliffhanger this time i'm posting part one and two together :') cuz i finally hit the 20 images limit

i wouldn't be surprised if there were a bunch of typos because... that's just how this one had to be :') im too tired to proofread again