8 is fate // Stray Kids

37

Jeongin

Slinging a towel over his shoulder to stop his wet hair from dripping onto his t-shirt, Jeongin stepped into his and Seungmin's shared room.

His muscles were already starting to feel heavy and sore, but that wasn't much of a surprise. He couldn't remember when his body last felt like it didn't stand on the brink of exhaustion, close to collapsing. Despite being aware of this, he had decided to squeeze in another extra training session, not allowing his body its much-needed rest.

It was starting to get self-destructive, but Jeongin didn't know what else to do. It wasn't like he didn't want to rest, more so that he simply couldn't.

Every time he got so much as a minute to pause and think, his mind would turn into a fucking blackhole. Sucking in all the thoughts he tried to ban from his consciousness and sending them spiraling, deeper and deeper, until they became all-consuming. Each time this happened, it got harder for Jeongin to claw his way back out, harder to cling to reality.

Constantly straining his body to its limits was his way to cope with it. As long as he didn't have the time and energy to think, he was good.

While it kept him sane, it was undeniably reckless in every other aspect. Not only did it influence his health, it also made him a liability. If there were to be a big scale attack or even the appearance of Geuneul, Jeongin would be weak, feeble, an easy target.

The most frustrating thing, though, was that Jeongin had dealt with this before. He had dealt with it and bested it, or at least that was what he used to believe until it came haunting him again.

Until he had seen Han lying in a puddle of his own blood, his body stiff and motionless.

The sight had affected him belatedly, it snuck up on him slowly, poisoning his thoughts before he could notice it.

He figured that the reason it took him a while to recognize the rising of his past trauma was due to the circumstances. The fear for Han's life, the shock of his disappearance, the guilt that encompassed some of them – all of it didn't leave a lot of room for thinking.

Jeongin had pushed his own worries and struggles to the far back of his mind. It made sense, after all it wasn't him that had been super close to the human. It wasn't him that had strained himself to save him. It wasn't him who couldn't unsee the blood that tainted his hands.

No, he was probably the person to be the least affected by the incident and so he focused on supporting his teammates. Focused on creating a new sense of normality.

Things never quite went back to the way they were before Han had become a part of their family, but they still managed to find a new sense of normality. It was wobbly and fragile, but it was better than nothing.

But with that coming into effect, Jeongin had nothing to keep his thoughts from concentrating on himself, nothing to distract himself with.

And that's when it all started, the dark thoughts, the nightmares.

It took him a while to figure out why it affected him so strongly. He knew it wasn't just the gruesomeness of the image, not the fear and panic that he had felt that night.

No, it was the familiarity.

The familiarity of the image of the lifeless body of someone he cherished.

He felt like it kept haunting him, one after the other, everyone he loved turned into an empty and lifeless shell. Their souls traveled on, leaving Jeongin behind with nothing but their decaying flesh.