Don't die, Teacher Zhan (YiZhan Fanfic)

Six

Don't die, Teacher Zhan
Chapter Six

[ Dedicated to those people who are still waiting for my updates. Sorry and thank you. ]

I'm sorry I'm on hiatus. But now I promise I'll be active and update this with my other works. Pinky swear, this is not a lie. /flies to the garbage can/

-Bishounenhow111

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"You can leave me in this part of the street. Thank you." The teacher smiled at his student who was giving him an uncomfortable look. "You don't have to see me walk to my apartment." He knew that Yibo wasn't the type of pupil that could be someone's friend in an instant and he's not planning to apply or take risk on that.

The rain was slowly departing from the place and the night sky was clearing, stars beginning to peek through the angry shady clouds. The kid nodded his head, jaw on point. "Here, you can have it. I won't get it again." He handed the umbrella to the twenty-eight year old.

"Huh? No. No. I'll run to my house. I'm already close to it." Xiao Zhan made a wiper gesture of his hands.

"Don't be stubborn. Accept this now."

Rubbing his nape, the older one took the thing from the mysterious standoffish child.

"What about you? You'll get soak..."

"Don't worry about me, teach." And then he was gone, running with all his strength to the bus stop.

Xiao Zhan bowed to the invisible air as an appreciation for what Yibo did and continued to his home with the parasol on his folded fingers. That night he slept with no nightmares or any bad thoughts to wake him up in the middle of his composed rest.

Three in the morning and as a routine, he prepared an espresso, drink it on his balcony and gazed at the city lights blinking at their best. This was his favorite time of the day where it's quiet and the only thing he could hear was his breathing, thumping of his heartbeats and the bit by bit progression of his mind set to take another dot to move his life. Another trauma, another problem, another blues.

He wasn't lonely or anything. He just wanted to end this, the unknown longing to die and the repeating music of his own memorial telling him to accept death. Zhan's certain that these will all cease if he let himself be carried away by that current of freedom... 'Death'...without any adjective attached to it. Maybe there, in that domicile he might see that purpose he ever sought for, discovering the other dimension with his fugitive soul. He curled on his chair and tried to calm his case of jitters that vulnerably work its way into all out panic. His views winding around the cosmos of his intelligence, mist of his breath combined with the haze of his coffee. Like an hourglass fell on the ground, another puzzle of his memory shattered making little splinters.

The scream grew and echoed in the night with blood-curdling resonance that only the truly young and truly terrified could create. His parents ran into the room, called by instinct to battle whatever force had brought about such absolute horror in their beloved child. Yet there was nothing.

Nothing but their son, standing beside his bed, arms locked around him, fists quaking as if he suddenly become an old man. He was screaming, the sound coming again and again and again, high, screeching, tearing, like the sound of fingernails scraping down the length of a wooden board. "She is here...she is here...in my room..."He whispered, crying.

Both parents looked desperately around the room, and then their eyes met.

"Sweetheart, sweetheart there's no one here. Don't cry now...Shhh...She won't bother you anymore..." His mother came to his side and tried to take the boy into her arms, but he wouldn't let her. The father, calling his name and soothing him didn't succeed either.

He was afraid of them all. They were all the same.

Then it vanished. Closing the remnants portal of memories, that he constantly hid under his facade.

The man once again noticed himself went blank, staring at the empty space. He stood up and barged to the bathroom, took two pills of painkillers and showered without taking off his nightclothes. "You have to forget it, you have to." The educator rambled. Dribs of the water slackened his shuddering body as he bathed himself. Drying up, he put his armor on, his professional get-up with his black shoes, slinging his bag to his shoulders and out of his harbor, locking it.

He checked his wristwatch and saw the displayed numeral, five-thirty AM. He sat on the bench of the shed where buses load and unload passengers. In fact, it's his first time to be here this early. Three buses came and went by; he remained on his spot.

"Sir, are you going to ride with us?" The driver asked him. Xiao Zhan shook his head, evidently an answer that contradict the word yes.

Minutes of recollecting his brain cells, he mounted the seat and sauntered to the path that led to the park. On a nice sunup like this he allowed himself to scuttle from his daily bane, work wasn't in that list of torment. He fancy his work, he adored it.

He strolled along the shops that were established on the street that guided him to his endpoint when suddenly a girl in jogging top and short-shorts charged to his direction. She must have noticed his knit eyebrows because she stopped before completely passing him. "Good morning."

"Good morning." He greeted back.

"Where were you heading? Work?" Her long, muscular legs were pink from the exposure to the cold of the morning. Panting, she held her hands restively on her waist.

"Yeah."

"But why are you walking to the opposite way? The bus stop is that way."

"Don't worry, I know where to go." He grinned at the stranger. Judging her, she's twenty, an energetic, healthy twenty lady.

"Okay. See ya!" She waved at him and minded her own business.

He watched her until she was out of his sight and grumbled. "Nuisance."

"Teacher Zhan?" Someone remarked in an uncertainty voice.

The one being termed faced the caller. "Oh, Yibo. Morning!"

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I know. Errors and visible mistakes. I'll edit this after I put up all the chapters. Thank you for reading!

-Bishounenhow111