The Red String

To Give You My Lungs

Zhou Zishu was standing in the armory once again. The room was cold, his exhales puffing out in shivered streams that disappeared before his eyes. He looked down at himself, knowing that this was a dreamscape and there was somewhere he should be. There was something he was missing, something he needed to get back to, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

The shelves around him were in upheaval, their contents spread out on the floor like the broken limbs of trees in their resting place. Everything was as it had been the day he had lost the love of his life. Which was...not right. None of this was right.

He looked down at his hands, opening and closing them. It felt like something was absent, that his fingers should be closing around another's.

Suddenly, he wasn't alone.

Another him stared back at him, only this Zhou Zishu's hair was long, his robes falling in gentle waves around him. He appeared cold, his eyes devoid of life. "You're here."

Zhou Zishu startled. The mirage sounded just like him. He took a step back, his head tilting guardedly. "Who are you? Where am I?"

The Zhou Zishu only blinked and folded his arms behind him. "I am you, or the you that lives up here." He tapped his temple and then smiled, but it was lacking any real emotion. "This is your mind. This is where you have dwelled for the last century and a half, living in your regrets." He then pointed to the books lying on the ground, and they were suddenly not harmless anymore.

Ghosts stepped out of them, gathering to stand before Zhou Zishu blankly. He gasped and took another step back.

The other him smiled serenely. "Running away again?"

Those ghosts with their gaunt faces and lifeless eyes seemed to scream at him, even as their mouths remained closed. "I'm not running away. I'm not. I won't run away anymore."

The creatures seemed to grow, feeding on the terror he was trying to hide. He had never found a way to truly leave his fears and hatred behind so he had hidden them from himself in an attempt to move on. He could only fool himself for so long though, because here they all were.

A figure with hair like the purest snowfall stepped out from the crowd and Zhou Zishu exhaled sharply, clutching his heart. "No. I can't do this."

The Zhou Zishu stepped closer for the first time. "Why? Do you blame him?" When Zhou Zishu shook his head frantically, the other male leaned in further. "Do you blame yourself?"

And he did. It was like a boulder falling onto his shoulders threatening to crush him. The guilt, the agony, and all the misery that he had covered so that he could live on came rushing down on him.

"Why do you blame yourself?" The other male asked calmly, watching and waiting along with the crowd. The Wen Kexing here seemed to hold all the hungry ghouls back with his ethereal presence. Even here in a world of Zhou Zishu's making, Wen Kexing protected him as always.

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, and he felt he didn't deserve to cry but it became unstoppable. "I-It was me." He met Wen Kexing's loving eyes and sobbed deeply, the sound wrenching from his throat roughly. "I did this. Every choice, every time I let someone trick me, led up to this moment. I chose to kill myself slowly and I chose to let him stay around."

His fingers curled into his chest like he was trying to claw his own heart out. "I chose to love him, and that love killed him."

"Your love didn't kill me." The soft voice came. It was like the whispering breeze and it flowed through him, making him sway. He would know it anywhere.

When he slowly came back to himself and looked up, Wen Kexing had stepped from the crowd and regarded him with a sad yet loving smile. "Your love didn't kill me, A Xu. I couldn't bear living in a world without you, so I left first. I thought I was loving you enough to sacrifice myself, but I ended up hurting you more. I'm sorry."