Guts (EXO)

Regrets

The sweat trickled down from Baekhyun’s scalp down to his brows, the salty liquid seeping in between his eyelashes and stinging his eyes before he could wipe them away. He was too immersed in crushing what’s left of the bricked wall in one of the city hall’s meeting rooms with his own two strong fists that he did not notice himself already drenched in sweat. Nevertheless, he did not stop.

What once was the city hall was now a house full of rowdy men and aliens using it as a sparring gym, personally redecorated by Durus himself to suit everyone’s convenience. Individual rooms were destroyed, lights were removed, and the cemented and bricked walls were kicked and punched so much that cracks were already forming, some parts even crumbling down to the floor because of the damage. Furniture was destroyed and used for strength training. The fancy chandeliers were cut down and have exploded into millions of crystal splinters, one in particular now in the same room as Baekhyun.

The sweat trickling down to his eyes made him stop punching the bricked wall to wipe his face with the back of his hand. Dust and blood seeping through the cloth that wrapped around his knuckles decorated his cheeks as he took a couple of steps back from the damaged wall.

“I heard about the terrible news.”

Baekhyun jumped a little and whipped around to face the owner of the voice. Nothing. No one.

Yet as his shoulders relaxed and his eyes squinted to adjust to the dark, he could make out a slender form of a suited man, slowly emerging from the shadows. It was Jiyong, sporting his usual suit and a cigar at hand.

Baekhyun’s shoulders tensed once again, a sign of fear and agitation. He refused to acknowledge these feelings and resorted into taking off the dirty cloth tightly wrapped around his hands.

“What terrible news?” he asked, mumbling, as he pretended to be distracted by his bloody hands.

“I believe I do not have to be specific here seeing that there are more good things happening to us than bad,” Jiyong said, voice snaky and venomous as always. “I think by now you would know what I mean.”

“Yeah, but I don’t,” Baekhyun deadpanned, tossing the dirty cloth to the side and rubbing his bloody knuckles, “and if you mean what happened a couple of hours ago then I don’t consider that as a problem.”

“You don’t consider the fact that your brothers doubt you of your loyalty because they assume you purposely let the enemies escape a problem?”

Baekhyun’s gaze went up to look at Jiyong. The man was staring at him with amusement, one hand inside his pocket and the other shoving the cigar to his lips, inhaling smoke into his lungs. It was 3 AM and the moonlight was casting a mystical glow over Jiyong’s perfect frame, the swirl of smoke from his cigar stretching out across the room. The sight was serene, yet unbelievably evil.

The way Jiyong used ‘brother’ and ‘enemy’ did not feel right in any way to Baekhyun. He felt uncomfortable, because when did he ever start considering these men as his brothers?

And most importantly, when did he start considering his former teammates, his former friends, his former family, as enemies?

Baekhyun blinked a couple of times, suddenly struck by what Jiyong said that he completely forgot to answer.

“I like you, Baekhyun,” Jiyong said, a sinister kind of quirkiness present in his tone that brought Baekhyun back into reality. “You’re smart, dedicated and hardworking. The thing is, though, you are easily sidetracked. Tell me, boy; what’s bothering you?”

Baekhyun gulped, not knowing what to say. Nothing was bothering him. “N-Nothing,” he stuttered, folding his arms in front of his chest to hide his trembling hands. He didn’t know why he was trembling.