A World of our Own | K.TH *COMPLETED*

Save Him

The memory came back so fast and thick that I didn't have time to resist.

It was dark—

Cold.

And it had tasted of blood and pain more than anything than I'd ever been through before.

The way that his hands clamped around my neck—

And how it has reeled of alcohol and insanity.

The way his eyes had glinted with a light of death and destruction, and how he didn't seem to care much about the consequences that had been brought to him later on.

When my head had slammed against the cold, bloodstained concrete—

And the pain that had filled my skies.

The feeling that nobody was going to come, to save me from this demon—

It had been terrible, that feeling.

Gasping for air in that tiny closet, I come back to reality to have my own fingers wrapped around my own neck. Eyes immediately widened with horror, I hurry to untangle my self-suffocation as I try to calm the strong, vicious waves of terror choking me as well.

"I hope you had fun last time, dear son." His father pronounces the last word as if it meant trash, instead of the endearing term meant to be used. "Because you're never going to have the chance to do it again."

My heart skips a beat inside of my chest as I hear the sound of crunching glass. Please, please tell me that wasn't him.

"You deserved it." V's voice is surprisingly calm and devoid of panic even though there was a murderer right in front of his face. "Everything, and so much more."

"Shut the hell up." Immediately, another shatter of glass follows the harsh reprimand, and I find my hand on the doorknob. I can hear V's gasping for breath as glass shifts again, with it the sound of painful panting.

Then I hear a sickening crunch that sends the room spinning.

Before my brain can send messages to my body, my body has already made its move. The moment I hear the terrifying noise, I shoot out of the closet— all warnings that V had firmly given me now nothing but the past in my mind.

Thankfully, his father has his back turned to me, but V sees me before anything else. He's crumpled against the wall, stained with his blood and adorned with shards of glass. The moment he does, though, something breaks in his eyes.

When his father raises his fist again, I don't think, I act.

Before he can get to V, I get to him first. It brings back memories from our first encounter as I slam the wooden chair on the top of his head, praying that he won't survive this as he did the last one.

I'm pleased to see that the man crumples into a heap on the ground.

"V! Stay with me." Voice trembling with panic, I dial emergency number on my phone— ignoring the scolding look that he sends my way. He was going to a hospital whether he liked it or not.

"Where did he hit you— "

"I— I can't breathe," He coughs and gasps for air, but the way his throat moves— it was like it was rejecting the air. His chest convulses rapidly as he claws for his neck, eyes wide and shocked.

"No—" Not making an effort to hide the terror in my voice, I pull his hands away. It could make it worse— or was it for the better? My mind whirls in panic as I try to recall the steps you should take if someone couldn't breathe.

"Tzuyu.." Even whispering my own name sends him into a series of coughs that makes me dizzy from concern and horror.

"Don't talk— save your breath. You're going to make it worse, and please stay awake. Please, okay? Don't die on me. If you die on me, I don't think I can take it anymore.."

I realize I'm rambling when he weakly wraps his fingers around mine. Face flushed with fever and pain, he moves his hand to my face, tucking the loose strands of hair back over my ear.

Then his face twists in an agonized scream as his arm slams heavily back onto the ground littered with shattered glass.

Then I hear the door swing open, and the rushed flurry of footsteps that followed. The next few moments fade into a blur as I see V's eyes close, and people lift my body up from the cold ground.

"Save him, please."

V's POV

There's something heavy blocking my throat, and it's preventing me from breathing. In the faraway distance, I see a girl pleading with people dressed in white and streaked with red.

Her eyes are glazed with a sheen of red, and I think I remember who she is. But then thinking— it hurts. It hurts to think about anything, so I give up on the thought, no matter how strong the urge is to pursue the reflex.

Then the girl with the red eyes come closer, and I realize that they're not red at all.

They're absolutely stunning shades of blue and green. How could I have ever missed that?

I can feel her hand warming mine as she takes it to her cheek. It glistens with more red as her lips form words that I can't seem to hear, much like me trying to breathe.

Then her grip is wrenched away as one of the white-clothed people swiftly take her away from me.

Bring her back, I want to say. I want her to stay.

But I can't seem to say anything as everything fades away into the darkness.