/[Crimson] /[Death] (Yoosung x MC fic)

Bad Ending 1

MC jumped as someone slammed their fists into the door of the apartment. She rushed to it, looking out the window to see Yoosung trying to break down the door.

“Yoosung! The security sys-”

The door ripped open, the blond haired college student standing there. He didn't think twice before embracing MC in a hug. Then he took a step back, his face changing from concern to confusion.

“MC...you don't look like Rika...your hair...and eyes…” He sighed. An alarm started to blare in the background. A countdown began. “I'm not going to lose you. Not like I lost Rika.” An almost gentle smile.

“Yoosung, we-”

“I'm not losing you. Ever.”

“YOOSUNG-”

The man smiled, his eyelids drooping. In this light, he almost looked...insane. “I'm not losing you.”

There was a flash of bright light, and MC’s ears filled with noise. Darkness pierced the light, and folded in over MC’s head.

707 was the first to notice something was wrong. When he got back to his computer, the CCTV feed had gone offline. He tapped at his keyboard, trying to bring it back up. “Oh no...no no no!” Seven grabbed his phone and hurriedly called Jumin.

“Jumin. I need you to pick up the others and bring them to this address. As fast as you can.” He didn't let Jumin ask any questions before he hung up. Seven rushed around, gathering several things. Something terrible had happened.

“Seven!”

Seven heard familiar voices behind him and turned around. Zen, Jaehee, and Jumin were walking fast on the sidewalk. Zen ran forward, catching up to Seven.

“707...what's this about?”

Luciel's voice caught in his throat when he turned around and saw the destruction. Where the apartment should have been was a gaping hole. Debris was scattered everywhere. And two lifeless bodies lay in the street, with smoldering clothes and hair. Seven was having trouble processing this, but Zen raced ahead of him, picking a hair clip off the ground.

“No!”

Jaehee and Jumin ran forward, Seven staggering closer in their wake. Zen picked up one of the bodies. Despite the charred clothing and ashen skin, the soft jawline, blue hoodie, and smoldering blond hair identified him as Yoosung. His eyes were still open, tiny slits of empty purple shimmering in the dimming light. Seven made a strangled noise in his throat as he approached the other figure. He carefully moved his hands under the neck and knees. Tears began to flow from his eyes as he lifted the lifeless girl into his arms.

Jaehee was calling the first responders, who said they were already on the way. Jumin was checking vitals, but shaking his head, clarifying that Yoosung and MC were already dead.

Seven couldn't stop crying. He sat on his heels, holding MC and whispering rapidly. “It's all my fault. I should have stopped him. It's all my fault.”

Zen had already placed Yoosung on a stretcher, and was coming back for MC. “Seven…”

“I know. I know.” He stood and placed MC on the same stretcher, next to her lover’s lifeless form.

~Two weeks later~

Jaehee tapped mindlessly at her keyboard. Jumin didn't mention it to her, since there were days when she got like this. He sighed. The death of two members had shaken everyone else to the core. He looked at his computer. In frustration, he switched it off, and called Jaehee.

“Assistant Kang? I can tell neither of us are going to get any work done today. So let's take a walk.”

Zen had been busy with his new piece, a tragic romance that he had written himself. He played the handsome yet rash college student, Yookim, while a friend of his played the love of his life, M. Today seemed different, however, as Zen’s acting was lack luster, almost dead. As if he was feeling regret for the character he had played so well before.

Seven had fallen asleep at his computer again. He seemed to be sleeping more and more, his exhaustion becoming endless. A smack on the back of his head brought him back to his senses. Vanderwood was standing behind him. Seven didn't speak, and Vanderwood whipped the chair around.

“Agent 707, you-” He stopped, looking into the dull eyes of Seven. “What…” Seven merely shrugged Vanderwood off and resumed work, slowly pecking keys as thoughts of how two wonderful young lives had been taken from the world.