Lost Boys {Book Two}

The Pulse In My Veins

Xiaojun had never wanted to hurt a child before. At least, until he was attacked by one.

He brought his fingers up to the bleeding cut in his neck and looked up at Hendery and Yangyang who knelt beside him. Hendery ripped a piece of fabric from his thin T-shirt and tied it around Xiaojun's neck.

He hissed but let Hendery adjust the makeshift bandage.

Across the alley, the boy who had attacked him stood rigid. Three of the guys that Yangyang had brought with him to find him and Hendery—Xiaojun wasn't good with names—stood around him. The tallest one, a guy with not-quite-shouder-length black hair with streaks of grey pushed the other two guys away. He had plump lips, sharply angled eyes and strong cheekbones (though Xiaojun couldn't tell if they were always like that or if the guy was just severely malnourished). He looked elfish, in a way.

"Jisung," The guy said softly, taking a step towards the kid. Jisung lunged forward and grabbed one of the two guys who had previously been pushed away. "Jisung, leave Donghyuck alone!"

Donghyuck looked extremely alarmed. Xiaojun guessed it was probably due to how he was almost decapitated or strangled to death. He figured he would've suffocated first, but still. Jisung almost got him in a headlock, but Donghyuck was quickly pulled away from him.

The guy with the grey in his hair pulled Jisung further away from everyone. "Sicheng, get away from him!" One of them said. Yangyang had told him that he was Japanese. Xiaojun forgot his name as well.

Jisung's body suddenly went stiff. His half-closed eyes shifted away from Donghyuck and he looked at Sicheng with a blank expression. Sweat dripped from his chin. "I'm having a hard time thinking," he said softly. Nobody said a word. "I feel like I'm losing my mind, I don't know what's real."

Sicheng squinted and looked up at the sky. "It's about noon, you're in Seoul, and your name is Park Jisung-"

"No, I don't care who I am!" Jisung said. He slowly turned to look at Donghyuck with a harsh glare. "Just tell me if he's real."

Jisung's eyes were dark and bloodshot. The bags under his eyes were yellow and swollen. The kid looked like he wouldn't survive a punch to the gut. "Who do you see, Jisung?" Sicheng asked.

Jisung let out a shaky breath. "Renjun. Who do you see?"

Sicheng locked eyes with another guy and shook his head. "Jisung, I don't see anyone." He lied.

"No, he's right there," Jisung's voice raised in octave. He sounded distraught.

"There's no one there, Jisung, there's no one there," He waved his hand at Donghyuck, signalling for him to move away from where Jisung was staring. He moved to stand behind someone else, but Jisung continued to stare at the same spot.

"No, you're lying, please don't lie to me!" He sobbed.

"Huang Renjun is dead, he died last year. You saw him when he was sick—"

"What's wrong with me?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Jisung, I want you to . . . Jisung?" Sicheng paused and look at Jisung. Jisung didn't say a word. Sicheng reached towards his face and pulled up on his eyelids. Jisung's eyes were rolled back into his head, and his body began shaking violently where he stood. "He's having a seizure."