the sky glares down at us as if we are its most lowly creations.
i've won. but at what cost?
---
Haewon liked the hot showers.
In fact, if you asked Haewon, the best part of making it to the finals was the sheer amount of upgrades.
Food, clothing, housing, just about everything that could be made to scream luxury would be yelling it at 130 decibels. It was utterly ridiculous. If they could afford all this, then why was this not available from the start?
She criticized, but she'd still partake. That was the nature of this society, after all. Rebel but never make a change.
So despite her hatred for her captors, she stepped into the hot shower. The water was on the verge of being too hot, and the heat felt cathartic.
If she closed her eyes, she could imagine that the heat from the water was an embrace. She could imagine that this water washed the blood off of her hands, hands that she'd rubbed raw under the water from the sink only a few moments prior. No matter how hard she washed, her hands were still tainted with crimson.
If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear a laugh from behind her.
"Hey, if you keep washing your hands, you won't have any hands left to wash. Look, your palms are red, idiot. Come on, we're late; let's get going."
Her eyes shot open, and she wasn't sure if the stinging was from the water or her tears.
There was nothing you could have done, she thought to herself in her head, repeating the words like a prayer.
But there was something you could have done, whispered a traitorous part of her brain.
In fact, you could have done nothing and it would have turned out okay. Or do you not recall?
She slid down against the wall, burying her face in her arms.
Oh, so you do remember?
Her nails dug into her skin, arms dripping red. Blood mixed with water, staining the floor.
All you had to do was follow.
She looked up, and suddenly she was eleven years old in a field of falling stars.
The sky was as beautiful as she remembered. Despite everything, her eyes lit up like they did ten years ago.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
She looked down, and she had to choke back a sob, unable to bring herself to answer. Jinsol looked at her in concern.
"What's wrong? They can't catch us anymore. Let's go."
Jinsol turned and walked toward freedom, hand holding Haewon's. Her grip was gentle, as if saying 'if you want to leave, I won't stop you.'
Haewon followed, and Jinsol broke into a run, laughing. They'd made it out. They were free now. Haewon couldn't help but laugh with her.
Suddenly, she felt her whole body freeze up, abruptly jerking to a stop. Jinsol's hand left hers, and she looked at the other in grief, not being able to hold back a sob.
Jinsol looked back at her worriedly.
"Why did you stop?"
Haewon takes a step back.
"Haewon?"
In that moment, beneath the witness of nobody but the flames shooting through the sky, she wishes more than anything to take Jinsol's hand again. But she knows how this story ends. She's already lived through it once, after all. So she turns away.
"I'm sorry, Jinsol."
She runs. Back to captivity, back to a place where she'd never know peace ever again. The grief she feels is scalding. It burns away all her rationality and leaves only emptiness.
Tears flow freely down her cheeks, and she wonders if Jinsol knows this. She wonders if Jinsol knows that what she wanted, more than anything, was to leave with her.
Maybe they'd lay low for a few months, while the aliens were on watch for them. Maybe they'd go thousands of light years away, blazing away to another solar system in a rush of light. Maybe she'd wake up with Jinsol every morning; they'd live together, after all. Maybe she'd learn to embrace the heat that rushed to her cheeks every time the other smiled at her.
Haewon wonders, if she'd never turned back that day, would she be happy? Happy with never knowing what would come next, forever stuck in hiding? Even now, she already knows the answer to that question.
I would always be happy, she thinks bitterly. I know that now. I would always be happy if it was with you.
The crack in the box was visible now. A few more steps and she'd be back.
So why did you run? her brain accused angrily, all of her regrets from that night coming together in this one question.
The question she'd asked herself at night every day after that. The question that would come up every time she was alone, red and glaring and never going away.
Because I was scared. Scared of being caught, scared of what they would do to me if they did catch us, scared of what they would do to Jinsol—
But look at what you did to Jinsol, her thoughts whispered to her, mocking.
The scenery shifted to dull gray metal. The arena.
She looked down at her palms, and all she could see was red. She looked down further, hands trembling in fear. Dull black eyes looked back at her, lined with tears. Jinsol looked at her again, gaze filled with emotion. Jinsol smiled, gesturing for her to look upwards.
They looked up to the sky, together. Shooting stars fell around them, barely visible from inside the arena.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Jinsol whispered.
Her words caught in her throat, and she simply cried, both hands pushing down on Jinsol's chest to try and stem the bleeding.
She kneeled there as Jinsol's pulse faded out from under her palms. She kneeled there as the crowd broke out into uproarious applause, the screens around her flashing only two words.
HAEWON WIN.
She sobbed into Jinsol's chest, tears mixing with blood and staining her face.
All she saw was red.
Red on Jinsol's shirt, red on her hands, red on the tiled floor.
Wait, hadn't it been metal just a few moments ago?
She looked up, and heated water hit her face. She stood shakily. Blood was running down her arms and down the drain, and the color made her want to throw up. She quietly turned off the water, throwing on new clothes. The fabric felt better than before.
The best thing about making it to the finals was the upgrades, after all.
