8 is fate // Stray Kids

42

Han

„Seven, you're such an idiot", huffed Minho, but Jisung could tell by the way his lips twitched that he was close to bursting into laughter himself. It sent a weird wave of satisfaction through Jisung, knowing that could make him laugh now. That their animosity had turned into a sort of friendship, a weird sense of camaraderie. It had taken him a while to spot Minho's caring side, but now that he had seen and experienced it, it was hard not to notice. It was obvious that the whole curse thing had taken a toll on Minho, and Jisung was glad to be able to relieve some of that, even if it was only through a bit of lighthearted banter and laughter. „Wait here, I'll grab a shirt for you."

Jisung leant against the counter, not even trying to mask his amusement. After the Abyss-ride he had gone through, it felt good to smile. It felt good to feel normal. He could feel the pain and torment still echo through his bones. He could still feel the endless darkness that threatened to swallow him whole as soon as his attention slipped as much as a millimeter. Time had lost all relevance in his fight against the curse. Seconds felt like hours while days felt like minutes. Time went by overwhelmingly fast and excruciatingly slowly all at once. He felt like he had lost all touch to his physical body, while simultaneously being made out of nothing but physical, palpable, tangible pain. He was blinded by such bright light, it had clouded him in darkness. He was burning so scorchingly, it felt like he was freezing. He got lost in all of it, but unrelenting, he fought his way out of the Abyss. Bested his curse.

Or so he thought.

Because why was it that he didn't feel like it was over yet?

Why did his body still feel so wrong?

The feeling was like that of blocked pressure points, profound discomfort and simply off.

He felt different than before, and sure, the sensation might partially stem from this foreignness that housed now inside of him. From the knowledge that something about him had tremendously changed. There was this strange sensation of something buzzing and brimming beneath his skin. Of something trying to break free, spread its wings and soar. But while his wings had been released, it felt like his feet were still chained to the ground.

Jisung listened to Minho's footsteps as the older went on the hunt for a shirt. Maybe he should have told the older about the peculiar sensation he has felt ever since he opened his eyes. But Minho had already looked so worried, Jisung didn't want to add any more troubles.

It was fine after all. He was fine. It wasn't like it still hurt. Though a part of him wondered if he was even capable of feeling minor pain after the excruciating torture he had went through these past days. Maybe what he would have usually classified as painful or unwell, was now perceived as normal, or even good, in comparison.

He frowned at himself, wondering if pain could work in such a way.

He was almost tempted to test it.

To take a knife to his skin and see how deep he had to cut for him to feel it.

But he had the feeling Minho wouldn't appreciate the action all too much, and Jisung had no idea how to explain his logic behind it without catching Minho's anger, or, worse, his worry.

No, it was probably better to postpone such experiments until later, when he was alone and maybe a bit more clear headed.

Still, doing nothing made him restless. Especially when he could feel that something brewing inside him, waiting to be released.

Tentatively, Jisung tried to reach for it, tried to find the source. Followed the humm of energy until small streams turned into rivers, and rivers into seas, and seas into oceans.