why? // ateez au

seonghwa.

I thought it was all just a dream, a terrible nightmare that my mind had somehow conjured up. My whole body went into shock, I was unable to move. My eyes remained glued to the screen in front of me, though I couldn't fully concentrate on what the reporter was saying. The scene unfolded before me, with the reporter standing in front of police tape on a deserted road, delivering the grueling details of the accident. Although a body wasn't visible, there was an overwhelming sense of its presence, lurking behind the figure on the screen.

The realization hit me like a hammer – my friend's lifeless body, the person who had brought me  joy and happiness, laid there on that desolate road, bleeding and lifeless. The weight of grief crashed down on me, threatening to suffocate any last calmness I had left.

Suddenly, an outburst shattered the heavy silence, "THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!" a voice screamed from behind me. I turned around, squinting my eyes to recognise the source of the shouing. 

There they were, all of them, desperately trying to separate two individuals engaged in a vociferous fight. From a distance, the chaotic scene made it difficult to identify who was hitting whom. The tight cluster of bodies made it challenging to gain a clear view, however I saw one of their faces. 

Mingi appeared utterly helpless, incapable of retaliating against the other's aggression. He was not the kind of person who would ever harm any of us. That was simply not in his nature. I recalled his words to me once, "I should feel the pain, not you. You don't deserve to go through anything like that." He always found a way to support us, even if it meant enduring suffering himself.

The sight of him in such suffering, groaning in pain as he was repeatedly knocked to the ground, tore at my heart. In a desperate attempt to intervene, I stepped forward, positioning myself between him and his attacker, hoping to put an end to the violence. But it proved to be a grave mistake.

As I moved to shield Mingi, a fierce blow struck my head, causing my world to spin. I fell to the ground, my consciousness fading away slowly. My vision blurred, and a piercing ringing filled my ears, growing louder with each passing moment.

Through the haze, I strained to understand the conversation unfolding around me. "JONGHO, WHAT THE FUCK?" a voice boomed, seething with fury. The anger in his tone was unmistakable as if he could tear Jongho apart in that very instant. No one else uttered a word, their feet shuffling uncomfortably. Perhaps they, too, were overwhelmed by the atmosphere.

Gradually, the ringing in my ears subsided, allowing me to hear the faint sound of someone groaning. I turned my head to the right and saw Mingi coughing up blood, his entire body covered in bruises. He seemed so fragile, on the verge of shattering with the slightest touch.

Using all my strength, I attempted to stand up, using a nearby chair for support. But my body betrayed me, and I landed on the ground once more, emitting a soft groan of frustration at my own weakness. Turning my gaze to the left, I surveyed who remained. Hongjoong, Wooyoung, San, and Jongho had all departed, leaving only Yeosang, who walked toward us.

"I'm sorry," Yeosang said softly to Mingi, extending a helping hand to lift him up. Then he turned to me, his eyes filled with concern. "Seonghwa, can you stand up?"

Anxious and shaky, I nodded, grasping the chair once again to pull myself up, this time succeeding in my attempt.

"You're coming with me too. I need to make sure you're okay," Yeosang insisted.

"I don't need it. Mingi needs it more. I'm fine," I responded weakly.

"Still thinking about others even when you can barely walk? Come on," Yeosang chuckled, gently tugging at my arm. I couldn't help but offer a small laugh in response, mustering a faint smile.

"Do you need help with Mingi?" I asked. "No, I can manage," Yeosang assured me, shifting Mingi's arm over his shoulder to alleviate some of the weight. Mingi appeared torn, unable to utter words beyond the tears that streamed down his face uncontrollably. I knew he was in terrible pain.

Yeosang guided us to his car, where he drove us to his house. Yeosang had always been the one to take care of us, particularly when it came to medical issues. His parents were surgeons, and they had encouraged him to follow a similar path. He had a deep fascination with science, particularly chemistry, finding the intricacies of the subject intriguing. He enjoyed a challenge and approached life with a problem-solving mindset. Recently, he had also developed an interest in neuroscience, believing it would provide a different perspective on life. I had initially laughed at his comment, but now, the significance of his words resonated with me. It was in that very same warehouse, the one where our lives initially had taken a dark turn.

I vividly recalled that day, it was also the day when Wooyoung walked into the warehouse, his heartbroken expression evident, shoulders slumped and head hanging low. He shared the news of being rejected by his dream dance studio, and our collective sympathy enveloped him. 

But it was Yunho, always knowing how to lift spirits, who grabbed Wooyoung's arm and led him to the open space within the warehouse. He played music, encouraging Wooyoung to dance alongside him. I was initially confused, but I soon understood the purpose behind it all. Before long, all of us joined in, creating a simple dance routine as if we were a group of eight idols. Yunho always seemed to possess an immense understanding of what to do in any given situation, constantly spreading happiness to those around him.

Once we arrived at Yeosang's house, the throbbing pain in my head began to subside, and carrying out normal tasks seemed less difficult. Together, Yeosang and I assisted Mingi in walking into the house, settling him down on a couch in Yeosang's living room.

"I'm going to the bathroom to grab a few things," Yeosang told us, placing a cushion under Mingi's head. I observed Mingi and his injuries more intently. His mouth had stopped bleeding, and he was regaining consciousness, but I could still make out several wounds that needed attention.

"Water," Mingi choked out, his arm moving slowly to point toward a bottle placed on a side table. I grabbed the water bottle, standing up and helping him take slow sips. After just a few sips, he raised his hand, signaling for me to stop.

"I got everything," Yeosang announced, entering the room and laying out his supplies. "Where would you like me to start?"

"I think he broke one of my teeth," Mingi slurred, causing both Yeosang and me to widen our eyes. Yeosang put on a pair of rubber gloves and examined Mingi's mouth, probing gently until Mingi winced.

"Yeah, a tooth is broken," Yeosang confirmed as he withdrew his hand. Mingi let out a sigh and settled further into the couch.

"But, Mingi, what actually happened?"