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“I should be ahead,” He pants, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. “Ahead. Stronger. Better. Who cares if you’re older by a few years? I’m number twenty- fucking -two,”
He bites, gesturing on the number on his shirt.
Eric glances up at his opponent, the small font reading ‘24’ across the other’s chest.
Any semblance of camaraderie for this person has long been willed away from his features.
No, this wasn’t a person.
He was a target.
His target.
“I’m your hyung, Youngjae,” Hyunjae barely lets out, exhaustion unmistakable from his voice.
“We’re brothers. Can’t we at least try to find a way around this?”
His voice was pleading. He didn’t want to fight him.
He hasn’t even tried to lay a hand on him.
Eric was disgusted. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.
He didn’t want pity.
He didn’t want it back then, and he most definitely did not want it right this second.
He barks out a laugh, one that was too mocking that got Hyunjae flinching from his position on the grass. Left cheek stinging from when the younger had thrown a shuriken from where he stood.
Hyunjae cursed under his breath, loathing whoever simulated this whole game. They obviously knew what they were doing.
They had done their homeworks, run background checks, studied their statistics.
Of course they had to assign Eric that one weapon he would be unbelievably good at.
Eric had the best aim.
He didn’t expect anything less from a fucking archer.
And what did they give him?
A fucking taser.
What would he do with this shit? Wait until Eric attempts to step close enough to violate him?
Eric had already thrown the damn thing in the jungle.
It’s as if they wanted him to lose.
They wanted him to watch his best friend gradually drain from his own humanity and see Hyunjae as less of a friend and more of collateral damage.
Hyunjae detested the system with his whole being for ordering them to go against each other.
Eric spits on the damp soil, effectively bringing Hyunjae’s attention back to this moment.
“Do not call me that. You have no right. It’s Eric. Eric.” He repeats the word loudly, as if etching his name into the older’s brain.
“And ‘hyung’? ‘brothers’? We were never brothers. We were barely friends,“ He sneers,
“You had always pitied me. Even told your so called ‘friends’ that I held you back from everything you could have accomplished because I was so. Damn. Needy.”
Eric emphasized each syllable, slowly drawing them out of his lips. Satisfied of the way the other’s face paled at the words he uttered.
Hyunjae had been caught, after all.
It was all thanks to Sunwoo really.
If he hadn’t dragged Eric behind the school grounds for a quick smoke, he wouldn’t have overheard Hyunjae’s conversation with his friend.
The latter was convincing him to drink out, to party like they used to. He hadn’t been fun to be around with apparently. Consistently turning down every invitation that had been thrown his way.
“You know I can’t, Hak. I have to look out for Eric after class. He’s still under probation.”
“Yawn. You’ve gone soft, Jae. You’re letting this kid drag you drown. Keeping you from the best things life has to offer. Why don’t you just ditch him?” Eric watched as Haknyeon took a long drag of his cigarette before exhaling them upwards, long twirls of smoke rising up to the already polluted atmosphere.
“Shut it. As a matter of fact, you should be the one I’d rather be ditching. Are you even hearing yourself? He—He needs me, Hak. I’m all he has.” Hyunjae responds pointedly and if Eric had a better view, he would have seen how Haknyeon’s eyes had rolled way back to his head.
“God, you’re insufferable. You were more fun when you were with Juyeon. Now? Not anymore,” Haknyeon discards the cigarette on the ground and stomps it with his foot, “I hope you realize you’re wasting your time. You’re sacrificing everything for a hopeless nut case?”
Hyunjae doesn’t say anything in reply, only holding his head down low.
Yet it tells Eric all he needed to know.
Hyunjae had agreed.
Hyunjae knew Haknyeon was right.
The fool didn’t even attempt to defend him.
So that’s what he was to him?
A hopeless nut case?
Eric seethes through his teeth.
“Couldn’t be me.” Haknyeon finally scoffs before he takes his leave and not long after, Hyunjae leaves for the opposite direction.
Eric clenches his fist with rage, yet feels a hand slip a fresh lit cigarette between his fingers.
He slowly looks up at his classmate, a lazy smile painting his features.
“Come on. I know you miss it. Plus,” Sunwoo says, taking a drag from his own before tapping Eric’s forefinger, his fist slightly unclenching from the touch. “It’s mint.”
Eric knows he shouldn’t. He had been clean for months. He was doing so well.
He almost rejects the temptation.
Almost.
Yet one look at the way Sunwoo’s lips tug at his hesitation, he’d known he was already long gone.
He didn’t need words to understand what he meant.
Sunwoo was his only real friend. He knew just as much.
As much as Hyunjae was concerned anyway.
He brings the cigarette to his lips.
Eric shakes his head at the memory, throwing another shot through the exposed skin on the side of Hyunjae’s stomach, pleased as it effectively brought the older to his knees.
He chuckles at that, turning his gaze upwards as he hears their classmates’ distant cries for help, mixed shouts of triumph and regret following after.
He wasn’t able to distinguish which voice belonged to whom, but he was fairly certain he’d be hearing the names of the fallen announced later that night.
Eric returns his glance back to his opponent, lips tugging at each breath Hyunjae’s trying to catch.
He couldn’t wait to hear ‘Number 24, Lee Jaehyun. Deceased.’ spoken through the intercom.
He lets his mouth form a smile.
Hyunjae deserved it.
Hyunjae saw him as a mere pet.
A puppy he had to look out for. To pity.
Eric twists the shuriken between his fingers, preparing for another shot.
He lets his eyes scan through the other’s body, easily drawing imaginative lines across Hyunjae’s throat, eyeing the certain juncture on his skin to perfectly end his life.
Target acquired, he supposes.
But right when he was about to throw his final attack, he hears his opponent mumble.
It was indecipherable though. He was too far.
Eric watches as Hyunjae speaks again, words still not reaching his ears.
“What was that? Your last words?”
When Hyunjae responds with a few notions of his lips and Eric still hearing none of it, he’s decided he’s had enough. He runs his hand through his own hair before he takes a few steps forward.
Once he was close enough, he crouches to the older’s level, then slowly brings his hand towards Hyunjae’s hair. Mercilessly yanking the strands upward so the other’s eyes would level with his.
“Repeat that,” Eric spits out coldly. He was not asking.
Hyunjae presses his lips to a thin line.
“I said,” He starts, “I’ve always had hope for you.”
Eric violently drops his head to the ground, then swiftly stands up, angling his right leg before kicking him square on the ribs.
“Bullshit. Those are your last words? I’m disappointed, Jae. I expected more from you.”
He crouches once more, watching Hyunjae cough out blood on the hard ground.
“You know that’s not what I meant—You know it wasn’t.” Hyunjae tries to say through his teeth, still coughing with each word said.
“I didn’t think you were hopeless. I thought Haknyeon was. He didn’t understand and he would never try to. But you—“ Eric watches as the other attempts to raise his head to look up at him.
Hyunjae coughs once more before he clears his throat,
“I was so proud of you. You were slowly accepting that your father’s death wasn’t your fault. You were only defending yourself. He was abusive. The gun was only questionable and that’s why you were placed under my care when you transferred. I had enough merit and I was reliable enough to make sure it was merely for defense,”
Why was he bringing up his nightmare now?
This was ridiculous.
Eric made a move to retort, but the look in the older’s eyes stopped him.
Why did he still feel inferior towards him?
“I didn’t blame you for your panic attacks. I didn’t blame you for your incessant nightmares about that night. I never did. You were forced to grow up too fast and I don’t blame you for your coping mechanisms. And even then you tried to cope with it—quite healthily may I add.”
Eric recalls all the nights he called up Hyunjae at the ungodly hours of the night. He kept waking up in cold sweat, nightmare still fresh from his mind.
The same wretched night playing over and over, and over again.
Hyunjae would come over from next door, hot steaming tea already warm held around his fingers.
He remembers being grateful for his patience.
Remembers how Hyunjae didn’t miss a night. Didn’t miss a chance to wait after Eric was done with his weekly appointment with his therapist.
Hyunjae takes a breath before he continues,
“You were doing so well. I was hopeful you’d eventually make it. You just needed a push towards the right direction. But you’re already strong on your own. You always have been, Youngjae.”
Hyunjae finishes with a ragged breath, letting his head fall on the surface. He obviously forced everything out of his mouth even when his own body didn’t want him to.
Eric wanted to throw up.
He thought he’d already had his resolve.
He didn’t need this.
He didn’t need a final pull on his strings.
Whatever Hyunjae was trying to pull, he’s not having any of it.
Was he trying to drag emotions out of him?
To stop him from delivering the final blow?
Eric shakes his head.
This was probably Hyunjae’s last attempt to bring his guard down.
He looks down at the older. Soft yet determined eyes peering up at his own.
He felt like he was going to be sick if he had to look at Hyunjae’s eyes again.
It felt too familiar.
It’s as if he actually cared.
Hyunjae cared for him?
Eric didn’t allow himself to think any further.
This is what Hyunjae wanted.
To let him think Eric could lean on him.
To let him think Eric wouldn’t want to lose the last person who cared for him.
The last person who saw any ounce of good, any sliver of hope in him.
It was far too late for that though, wasn’t it?
Fate has merely brought him to this battlefield to enlighten him on the matter.
He was here because he only had one thing left.
Himself.
But as he shifts his glance towards his own stained hands, blood belonging to the man lying across him,
Eric realized he might have been wrong.
He used to thought of the world of this man, and now Hyunjae was about to die at his own hands?
His breath slows then, eyes hovering on the damage he’d inflicted upon his opponent before a realization ultimately dawns on him.
He had already lost everything.
And he hadn’t spared himself.
Eric lets his body fall back.
Subconsciously tracing the number written across his chest.
22.
Twenty-two.
That probably meant something, right?
Maybe it was either he was meant to be ahead of Hyunjae in this game,
or he was meant to lose.
To fall behind.
An early point.
Digits indicating he was too young for all of this.
Or.
He was merely just a number.
Something that didn’t deserve a name.
A pawn for this wretched game.
Eric struggles to catch his breathing.
It was all too much.
He felt too foolish.
Too helpless.
What if Hyunjae actually cared for him?
What if Hyunjae really didn’t want to fight back because he didn’t want to taint whatever they had?
Number 24 looking out for Number 22?
Where does that leave him?
And what about their classmates?
Was Sunwoo still somewhere alive in this game?
Was Juyeon hunting him and was on his way to save Hyunjae’s ass?
Eric wanted to laugh.
He really decided to care now?
Did a small strand of his humanity manage to worm its way back?
It was almost hilarious.
If he were in a different situation, he would have been clutching his stomach, tears in his eyes as he laughed at the entirety of it.
He didn’t want to think any longer.
Feel any longer.
He didn’t think he’d want to win this game, then scour the whole world to look for a new purpose, a new meaning.
He was now someone who had nothing, yet knew that he would still do everything just to feel something.
An ounce.
A glimmer.
Anything.
Sure it was innocent enough but.
He knew his capabilities.
He was well aware of it.
If Hyunjae’s crushed ribs weren’t already enough proof he didn’t know what else was.
This was clearly not the future he initially envisioned for himself.
He didn’t want to succeed while having dead bodies trailing behind him.
And that’s when he knew.
Eric knew he was never meant to last.
He was only here to remind himself he wasn’t worth anything at all.
“Guess that’s why I’m Number 22 huh,” Eric finally spits out, Hyunjae glancing back up to look at him when he does.
And when the look on the older’s face shift from question to horror, Eric knows his decision had already reflected on his face.
“Thank you, hyung. For everything.” Eric finally manages a smile.
A pained smile.
But a smile, nonetheless.
“Youngjae—“
“Fight better, will you?”
Hyunjae then hears the clank of metal stars drop on the ground beside him.
Eric was giving him the rest of his weapons.
The younger then gradually brings his last shuriken to his own throat, positioning on the same juncture he’d initially planned on Hyunjae’s and flashing a smile when he finally slices through it.
He feels the warm blood gushing out, the swift rush of life getting sucked out of him, hears Hyunjae crying out his name along with the sound of a gun fire blaring off into the distance.
Number 22.
Sohn Youngjae.
Deceased.