It had always been a feat bearing through the course of the pain, whenever it came forth. But I'd gotten used to it. What troubled me this time, was the new vision that had accompanied it. 

It brought back all the discarded remains of the very first one. Women shrieking, glass breaking, footsteps receding in haste, trembling fingers finding something cold and deceptive where my face should have been.

My breath grew more ragged at my recollection. My eyes were already closed but I squeezed them shut, even tighter, but that never worked.

The pain thrummed and thrummed, until it turned into a familiar rhythm. Almost like a purr. One I could hear out loud.

"Mister, are you okay?"

I broke out of my trance upon hearing the voice, and an annoyed yowl followed my sudden jerk.

"Chim! Don't you dare run again!"

My eyes followed the mangy cat, to the person who grabbed it before it could scamper away.

"YOU! Why are you here again? I told you to-"

"Yes, Yes, you told me to leave and never return. But," He eyed me pointedly, at how I was sprawled feet away from my makeshift bed, sweating through my clothes like it was the middle of the summer.

"I was concerned, Mister. After how you just passed out! I couldn't tell if you were in pain or not, because. Well," he trailed off, not looking at me. 

"But! My guess was right! I mean, look at you. You need medical attention."

"I don't need your pity, boy. Nor your fake empathy. You, out of all people, can never understand my state."

"If you were trying to insult me, it didn't work." I was trying to pick myself up, while he rambled on, but my arms shook from the effort of supporting my body.

I leaned against the wall, but when I chanced a step forward, I lost balance and I saw the boy move in my direction from my periphery.

"DON'T TOUCH ME."

He shrank back as if physically wounded, and I limped towards the pile of blankets that made for my bed. My body was weak. I had lost track of my last meal once again. Starving couldn't kill me, it would simply turn me into a breathing corpse. I also preferred to suffer in the most convenient state possible.

The boy still stood there, in the middle of the room, a squirming cat in hand.

"What day is it today, Boy?" He looked up, a small frown over his features.

"Wednesday."

That was inconvenient. I had to wait out the rest of the day before I could step foot in town again. I had to preserve what energy I had left for a few more hours.

"Leave. Why are you still here?" The longer he stayed around, the more concentrated became my sense of the pain. Like a kind of self-consciousness.

"Because I brought food. I know of your visits into town. How you only ever come there every Thursday of the week. I know how the people treat you. So I thought I'd bring food this time, seeing how you aren't healthy enough."

Deep down I think I knew he was doing this out of kindness, but I'd been mocked one too many times with the false actions that I couldn't afford to think deep.

"I do not want your pitiful alms, or any kind of assistance. Take it with you, and out of my house. I don't want to see you lurking around my premises again."

The tone I used would have made any other person feel as though they were biting gravel. But he stood still, eyes slightly narrowed. 

He observed me for a moment, and then held his chin up high.

"I'll leave once you address me properly. By my name."

I knew he could feel my gaze on him, even if he couldn't see it.

"Leave. Jimin."

They were just syllables. I uttered them without emotion, and yet he smiled in such a genuine way.

"That was nice. Would it be too much if I demanded your name as well?"

But I was already turning around in my cot, facing away from him.

"Bye, Mister. Take care."

I closed my eyes.