Game On (markson/kaisoo/jikook)

15 Wrong End!

*Jungkook POV*

The plan was set. Mark was our target, and we only assumed the worst would happen. Him or us? Him! I felt guilty for thinking this way at the beginning, but the more I looked at Jimin's precious face, the easier it was for me to do. Jongin seemed to have the same initial hesitations, but Kyungsoo was his everything, and we could understand each other.
"I need to find him!" Jongin spat, storming through the halls, kicking open classroom doors.
"Kyungsoo can't have gone far," Jimin attempted to calm his worried rage.
"This is Soo, you would understand if you knew him."
I sighed, this was was getting tedious. "He could be with Mark as we speak."
This caused both men to turn around and look at me.
"Don't jinx it!" Jimin whined.
"Kyungsoo probably invited that psycho to a tea party by now, but I'm choosing to believe otherwise!" Jongin growled.
I smirked, they really were an odd pair. I swung the swords loosely around my fingers. They could come in handy any minute, but they were a vital part of the plan.

"Hey, stop you two," Jimin ordered, halting us in our tracks, "Do you hear that?"
"Here what?" I enquired, readying my weapons in my steady hands.
"Is it, crying?" Jongin wondered aloud.
"Maybe Kyungsoo!" Jimin added, clicking his fingers.
"Follow it! Let's go!" I grinned, ready for action.
I marched up ahead, almost missing the pained cry from behind me. "Jimin!" I spun around to find him leaning on Jongin's shoulder, suddenly losing colour like he had stain remover poured on him.
"What's happening?" Jongin asked, wrapping Jimin's arm around his shoulder.
"He's disappearing!" I shrieked, returning my swords to their dormant state. "How? What? Where's Hoshi?"
"Conveniently M.I.A," Jongin hissed.
I knelt down in front of my lover. His face was scrunched up in pain, his lips moved, as if uttering pleas for help, but no sound came out, like a muted tv series.
"Chim Chim," I stuttered, "What are you trying to say? We can't hear you!"
His brown eyes shed crystal droplets, that too, faded into nothing. His quivering hand stretched out to touch my face, and I watched the ends of his fingers become transparent.
"Read his lips Jungkook!" Jongin heaved, where Jimin was touching him was losing colour as well.
I watched the older's lips. I stared intensely, desperately trying to decipher what he was trying to inform us on.
"Save......him.......he's too.......young......to face such........a horrible......fate?"
"Does he mean Kyungsoo?" Jongin asked. Jimin nodded, trying to hide his discomfort and pain.
"Mmm, he does."
A pair of small, strong hands gripped my shoulders from behind me. I spun around.
"Hoshi! Wait til get my hands on your throat, you'll sound like strangled turkey!"
"Calm down, Jimin is simply lagging. Happens to the best of the players."
"Lagging?" Jongin sighed wearily, as if worn out by the amount of rules and quirks that kept coming up in the game. To be honest, I was too.
"Yep, it passes after an hour or two, it's basically Kamisama's power struggling to hold the game together for so long. He's resting as we speak."
"Why is it hurting him?"
"Imagine your blood stopped flowing, your skin degraded really fast and your throat no longer functioned correctly. Cause that's what it is. Time is forgetting him but Kamisama is subconsciously pinning him to this reality."
"Are there other realities?" Jongin asked.
"Oh hell yeah, loads, some where the game works out differently, some where your paired up differently, some where you aren't even the players."
"Oh god!" I moaned, my head hurt.

"Anyway, just forget about Jimin, I'll look after him as that's one of my jobs here and you two go and find the other two."
We grudgingly agreed, somehow finding his words trustful and bidding Jimin farewell. Jongin stopped fading once away from Jimin's contact, coming as a huge relief to us both.
The plan had changed, but we could still make it work, it would just be a bit tougher.

*Kyungsoo POV*

"Why are you doing this?" I weeped, backed into a corner.
"Who knows Soo, fun? Revenge? Grief? Maybe all of the above." Mark snickered, pointing the fire poker at my face. Sweat trickled down my brow, and around my palms, making my grip on the floor minimal.
I mentally reminded myself of my advantage. I had Cupid's arrow, while he had no Olympic weapon at all. The cards were supposed to be in my favour, so why didn't it feel that way?