•𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬•【√】

⇗CHAPTER 16⇖

I don't know for certain, but I'd still bet there's no law against prisoners tormenting their captors. That makes this okay. I have no idea how long it's been. At least a few hours, I'd say. The sunlight is now pounding violently through the windows, illuminating the entire room and slowly cooking the air around me and my pint-sized guard, so it's probably midday. Half a day, and my voice is basically gone. I had to stop yelling a while back, but I'm nothing if not persistent.

Minhyuk broke at least an hour ago. In the beginning he had ignored me. He started pacing, muttering at me to shut up. He yelled for a few minutes. Finally he came running over, reached a hand into my cage, grabbed me by the hair and bashed my face against the bars a few times. The guard in the hall heard the ruckus and came bolting in to check on things. He popped Minhyuk up the side of the head and put a knife to the teen's throat, screaming at him before very literally kicking him out of the room. I kept singing the whole time.

The worst part wasn't my skull getting introduced to the iron. No, the worst part was that when my upper lip split on impact I couldn't help but be happy. Blood poured into my mouth, and it was the closest thing to water I've had in almost three days. A little detached part of my mind was decidedly grossed out, and the majority of my brain disapproved, but the coppery fluid felt like a godsend. So yeah, that happened.

Now I'm just leaning back against the bars, ignoring my thumping pulse as it hammers away in the bruises now littering my face. Also on my list of thing to ignore? The headache brought on by dehydration and rude prison guards. My singing might have something to do with it as well.

Minhyuk got sent away after his outburst, only to be replaced by his carbon copy Junsoo. The kid stands by the door. He doesn't sit. He doesn't shuffle in place, or stretch, or lean. This thirteen-year-old stands at perfect military attention, and it's unsettling. Maybe he's trying to prove he can handle the job, or maybe the Unit has drilled out any spark of personality he might have had. His face is set into a very strained attempt at calm.

"In a churchyard near the canyon, where the myrtle doth intwine," I've lost most of the tune. My tired throat fights against any noise I attempt, but I'm still hanging in. I've been staring at my bare feet for ten minutes, just to look at something other than the far wall.

"Why are you singing about death?" He speaks so softly, I almost don't hear him. The words startle me into silence. I turn to look at him. Those dark brown eyes are only three feet away. I didn't hear him walking over. He's got a questioning look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and interest. No, no, don't do that. Don't look at me like that, you look like Jimin. I close my eyes.

"If I can't escape, at least I'm not making it easy on you," I guess it's a sentiment he can understand. He gives me a quick little nod.

"But why is there a song about death?" Seriously?

"There're lots of songs about death. Songs can be about anything," I don't really know how else to answer him. I certainly don't want to turn this into a philosophical discussion, but dammit he looks so young. He looks so much like Jimin. Holy shit, did Soojung have these kids cloned?

He doesn't reply. He just keeps looking at me. He tilts his head inquisitively. He's just plain not playing fair.

"Songs are a way to process... to release emotion. This song was written to help someone grieve after losing their love," I can't imagine that Junsoo hears much music. I know Jimin never gets any of my musical references, even the really obvious ones.