𝗝𝗲𝘂 𝗱𝘂 𝗦𝗮𝗻𝗴 (𝘎𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 )

❛ 1 3 . 2 ❜

Mingi squinted his eyes and rubbed his hands over them in a failed attempt to get rid of the purple spots he saw. It always took him a little while to get used to the light again after playing with the VR glasses. After a few seconds of feeling dizzy, he opened his eyes. His black hair fell into his face and the sun seemed to be setting.
Slowly he took in his surroundings, San and Jongho were cleaning up and Yeosang was sitting on the couch sulking.

"Good game."
He praised him, to which Yeosang just rolled his eyes. Mingi sat down beside him, his eyes shifting to the red ribbon tied around Yeosang's left wrist.

"I mean it. For making the game yourself, it turned out really well!"
Mingi tried his best to convince Yeosang that he hadn't really lost, after all, he had put the whole game together. From the character design and planning to the implementation, Yeosang had worked on this project alone.

"You shouldn't have won," Yeosang mumbled to himself.

At that moment, the door to his room opened and Yeosang's mother came in. In her hand she held a plate of chopped fruits, her lips drawn into a friendly smile.

"I was wondering if the little adventurers would like something small to eat."

You could tell at a glance that Yeosang had a lot of his mother. From her tired but still beautiful eyes to her small upper lip and full bottom lip, Yeosang seemed to be the spitting image of her. Jongho and San, who were in the process of putting away the things they had used while playing, grasped them gratefully. She walked into the room and put the plate down in front of the couch. She tousled both Yeosang and Mingi through their hair and then walked past them to draw the curtains from the window completely.

"The sun is already setting, don't your friends need to get home?"
She asked, turning back to the teenagers. Her heart almost stopped at the sight of the room. An open chip bag laid on the floor, the candles on the cake were broken in two and the cake was barely touched. She could swear there was a layer of dried Sprite on the table.

"My father said he'd pick me and the other two up at eight."
Jongho tried to speak with his mouth full, but the words were not clear and Yeosang's mother only furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to figure out the words.

"All right, you should start to get ready to leave. Don't worry about cleaning up, I'll do it later."
Yeosang's mother left the room and pulled the door shut behind her again.

"I can't believe a day has gone by so fast," Jongho said now with an empty mouth.
The others only agreed, except for Yeosang who was still sulking.

He was lost in the thought that he was now weak in his own game, at least that's how he saw it. For years he had been building this game, a game in which he would be invincible and strong. Meanwhile, he had contracted leukaemia, seemingly beaten it, and then had a relapse. He hated how weak and emotional this disease made him, which is why he built his own world in Jeu du Sang.

A game. But nevertheless, he built so much into the game that came from reality that he lost himself for a little in virtual reality. Only that he was lost in this world had a different effect on him. In a world he had created to be the strongest, he had lost. The worst part was probably that he didn't even fight back.

"Stop sulking. It's not like you've completely lost or anything, at least you built the whole thing yourself, you can be really proud of that!"
But Jongho's attempts to cheer him up did nothing, rather they triggered the opposite, as the boy began to cry.

Even though the strong emotions that came with the illness were sometimes a bit much, his friends always showed understanding. They did so now too, and included him in a group hug. By now they were used to the visible side effects and tried their best to make Yeosang understand that everything was going to be alright and that they did understand that he couldn't control things, even if he had a hard time believing it.

"You did really well, though. For sitting behind it all alone, the game is really good. You even managed to get Wooyoung and Hongjong some parts!" even if San didn't mean it that way, these words were rather less reassuring for Yeosang.

He can still remember the two of them well, how he used to spend time with them. Wooyoung was a little kid, a whole six years younger than him. He can still see those blue lips and pale face. The little boy was always in a good mood, trying to make every day happy until one morning Yeosang learned that his heart valve had finally failed.

Hongjoong was with him longer, but Yeosang always hated how he could count every day Hongjoong had left to live. No more than a year, that was Hongjoong's answer when Yeosang asked him how long he had left. The elder was diagnosed with peritoneal carcinomatosis, cancer of the peritoneum. The chances of survival? There is no such thing, not even a chance to drag out the diagnosed ones life.

As these thoughts ran through his head, he just cried even more. Why did one always have to look death in the eye? Was this really necessary in life?

Without him really noticing, his eyes fell on the ruins of the house across the street, blurred images of the neighbour's child dying in the fire running through his head.

The world is cruel, he thought to himself.

But time does not stand still and his friends were now standing in the front door. He said goodbye to them and just before he was about to close the door he heard Mingi call out.

"The days are too beautiful to be sad! Happy 17th birthday, Yeosang-ie!"

The End