why? // ateez au

mingi.

As soon as San uttered those two words, the entire room turned their attention towards him. However, Jongho's gaze remained fixed on me. His eyes burned with fury and an intense hatred that could have ignited a fire right where I was seated. I returned his gaze with a mixture of confusion and disbelief, unable to comprehend why he was directing such animosity towards me, as if I were the one responsible for Yunho's death.

The tension between us became noticable when Jongho abruptly stood up. Everyone in the room noticed the charged atmosphere, their faces mirroring the same confusion I felt. He approached me, leaning down to meet my eye level, and whispered right in front of my face, "You're a fucking dead man, Mingi."

Startled, I tried to sit up and distance myself from him, but he seized me by the collar and forcefully slammed me against a nearby wall, unleashing a torrent of shouts. The impact against the wall caused the plaster to crack, and the commotion drew the attention of others, who started walking towards us, except for Seonghwa, who remained fixated on the TV.

In a daze, I struggled to comprehend the events unfolding around me. The only sensation I could register was the relentless onslaught of Jongho's fists, each blow inflicting pain upon me. His words became a blur, drowned out by the assault. I could feel san trying to push him away from him, but did to no avail. Jongho stopped for a minute and stared at me. 

Despite the bruises he inflicted upon me, a fleeting sense of sympathy arose within me when I glimpsed the misery and fragility in Jongho's eyes, a single tear escaping his gaze. Yet, his sadness swiftly transformed back into anger, his eyes turning red and burning with fury as he locked his gaze with mine.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!" he bellowed before delivering a powerful punch to the side of my face.

My consciousness began to fade, my lip bleeding from the strike. Everything blurred into obscurity, and the next moments became a haze. I vaguely recall being laid down on a couch, with Seonghwa at my side, tenderly pouring water into my mouth, his caring nature shining through. When I signaled for him to stop, he set the bottle aside and looked at me, offering a weak smile, perhaps to reassure me that everything would eventually be okay. But deep down, I knew it wouldn't. He, too, was littered with bruises.

As I was about to pose questions to Seonghwa, Yeosang returned with a medical kit. I responded to his questions, except for one— "But Mingi, what actually happened?" he asked, his eyes widened with concern.

I stared back at him, my eyes widened in shock. What did happen? The events played out in rapid moments, flashing before my eyes. Yeosang's house, Jongho's punches, Yunho's death... 

unho's death. The chilling realization struck me, a shiver running down my spine. He was gone, lying cold on a concrete pavement, abandoned,

Alone. 

Yunho had always feared loneliness; he clung to me, and I clung to him. The mere thought of being detached from him frightened me. We needed each other, inseparable like glue. And now, to accept that he was no longer with us? It couldn't be true.

"Mingi?" Seonghwa whispered, nudging my shoulder gently, his eyes filled with worry. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"I just... I don't remember what happened. My memory is hazy," I said, avoiding eye contact with the others. Seonghwa exchanged a glance with Yeosang, and he moved away, giving Yeosang space to approach me. Yeosang examined my face, his brows furrowing upon discovering cuts and bruises scattered across my face and body.

"So, where do you think everyone went?" Seonghwa asked, reentering the room with two glasses of water.

"Jongho is for sure isolating himself for a while. The news hit him hard," Yeosang responded, his tone tinged with concern. "Speaking of hitting hard, what the fuck did he do to you, Mingi..."

A slight chuckle escaped me, despite the pain. Yeosang was, for sure, a character.

"I think we should focus more on how we're feeling right now," I suggested weakly, offering them a weak smile. Yeosang and Seonghwa stepped back, their breaths growing heavier, their faces showing their internal worry.

"Mingi..." Seonghwa began, his voice laced with despair. "I'm so sorry." He gazed at me with that same worried expression.

"He's not dead. He can't be," I said, a hint of desperation lacing my words.

"Mingi, he's gone," Yeosang said softly, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"He's not fucking dead, I'm telling you. He would never leave me like that," I retorted with a rasied voice, pushing Yeosang's hand away. Just then, Seonghwa's phone buzzed, and he opened it, his face turning pale as his mouth fell agape.

"What is it?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"I'm not sure if you want to hear this, Mingi," he hesitated. "Just tell me!" I demanded, my voice tinged with pain.

"It's Yunho... They think it was a suicide."