Hatred - 2Min/Minmin

28

That night, like many night before, he sat on the roof preparing for the end-semester examinations like his life depended on it. His blood was practically liquid caffeine. Between jung's project, Park's stupidities and the end-semester examinations, he wasn't sleeping for more than couple of hours every night. His concentration was scant. Often he found himself looking towards the other roof, where he could see a silhouette, sometimes two.

Though Minho had kept out of his way since the incident in the canteen, he couldn't help but think about him, about how Minho stood up for him in the class when Prof. Jung censured him. How he even let his father slap him when he could have easily sent him back with a broken face.

"Hey," a voice said from behind, startling Seungmin.

". . . . "

". . . . . "

"What are you doing here? How did you come here?" asked Seungmin.

"I got something for you," replied Minho and dangled a piece of paper in front of him. "That's the address and the home number if Wonpil. I have called on the number but the line disconnected."

"I have nothing to do with him," said Seungmin.

"Of course you do. None of this would have happened if he had stuck around."

"But he didn't. He left me here to face the music."

"Well, that's true. But that shouldn't stop you from bringing him back. Here's what I think would have happened. Jung would have accused you and him for being drunken teenagers, upsetting the decorum of the college, probably doing something juvenile in a closed, dark classroom—"

"Minho!"

"I'm just saying! And Wonpil would have stoop up for you. Jung must have thrown at him a choice between you and him, he would have chosen to walk out of the college sacrificing hissedaari, the gentleman that he was. Because, if I were a stuck-up dean, I would have thrown you out."

"What makes you so certain?"

"Hyunjin says I watch a lot of television drama."

"Why are you so concerned?"

Minho didn't say anything. He sat next to him, his arm inches away from Seungmin's. Seungmin could see Minho squirm even as he said this. "I'm doing this because I might have sourced the CCTV video that night. The rumour too was started by Hyunjin and me."

Seungmin's throat went dry. "YOU?"

Seungmin had lived the past twenty-four days in flash, not knowing where things had gone wrong. None of this would have happened had Minho had the decency to not try and destroy his life.

"Yes it was me. And with the reputation that Wonpil had, it wasn't hard for people to belive it. Now don't throw a fit and cry and curse me because we've been through it before. Can we just skip to the part where you think I'm doing this to wash away mu black soul?"

"And why would I help you do that? I have been to hell and back, Minho. And you think this is a damn game, don't you? My father slapped me!"

"He slapped me too. Which part of 'let's skip that' did you not get?"

"The part where I kill you!" growled Seungmin and lunged at Minho. He grabbed his collar.

"You're crazy! Let me go."

"Am I crazy? What did you get out of it? We're you totally out of you mind?" he screamed.

Minho drew himself up and pushed him away and he staggered backwards. "Enough. We can still get Wonpil back and you can still have your happy ending, walking hand in hand with him into the sunset, or in your case, the lab."

"I can't leave the college. And who knows where he is. He could be anywhere by now," Seungmin said, weighting his options. "And moreover, my father would come to know. The professors talk to him every day."

"Who says you have to miss classes? Go now." Minho unclasped Seungmin's palm and put the paper in it. "You will be back by morning. I will take you."

"I'm not going," said Seungmin.

"Why not?"

"Why should I? Why would I free you of your guilt? And where did this come from, this feeling of remorse?"

"I feel no remorse."

"I do."

"Excuse me?" asked Minho.

"I won't go until you tell me you're going to get your father to talk to Prof. Park."

"My father?"

"I talked to Prof. Park after you were barred from the examinations. He said you father talks to him, he will let you go. I found your father's number from college database to call him here but it seems life he hasn't paid his bills."

"What you called him? You're a fucking psychotic, Kim Seungmin."

"Looked who's talking. You're not repeating the year because of your kindness and your sacrifice!"

"Blah. Blah. Blah," grumbled Minho, inches away from Seungmin's face.

"I will cut you a deal. I will come with you bit I don't want to see you in college for the next three years, looking at every milestone I cross and telling me that I wouldn't be there if it weren't for you sacrificing your first year for me. I won't take that. Talk to your father. Ask him to meet the dean, apologize for what you did that day, and the dean will let you take the exam. I do want to owe anything to anyone. Least of all you!"

"What would you do if I don't? I like the idea of torturing you, and not letting you enjoy any of your spoils."

"Don't kid yourself, Minho. You wouldn't have got me here if you weren't sufficiently guilty of what you did. And what you did was shitty."

"It's a deal."

Minho walked to the ledge of the roof and stood there for a brief second, surveying the perimeter like he was Bruce Wayne.

"Come," he said and gave his hand to Seungmin.

Seungmin's heart leaped at the sense of adventure his decision would take him on. It took them fifteen minutes to jump the parapets and reach the parking lot, and he felt his heart would give way any time. By the time he felt solid ground crunch under his feet he felt life he had been through fifteen straight episodes of Man vs Wild.

"You look like you died."

"I did. Thrice."

"Take this," said Minho and handed the only helmet to Seungmin.

"What about you?"

"I would die to live in the blazing glory having saved someone."

Seungmin rolled his eyes knowing all too well that Minho was in love with him again. The ball was in Seungmin's court now.

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