It was the first death.

Everyone was clumped together in groups in the hallways. The usual loud chatter of students were hushed.

I stood in a grim circle with Jungkook, Mika, and Namjoon. Jungkook had his arms wrapped tightly around my waist, pressing me close to him, while Mika had her own arm laced around Namjoon's.

"They found the body this morning I heard," Mika said quietly. "But they think she died sometime earlier this week."

Namjoon reached up and patted her shoulder comfortingly. The two had been begun going out together recently, and I was happy for both of them, especially Mika. She'd had her uncertainties. Being a black girl, especially in Asian society, not many people were interested in dating her because of her. Rather, a lot of people viewed her as 'exotic', a rare specimen to date for the sake of bragging to their friends like she was an exclusive commodity.

But not Namjoon. There was no doubt that they had a genuine connection between them. There was also no doubt they'd already gotten into bed together. Two cute little thirsty hoes meant for each other.

"I can't imagine what it must've been like to find her." I shuddered. "To hang herself in an abandoned barn...."

"And it was Shira, too," Namjoon added, speaking for the first time. "She seemed so happy. Hell, she was one of the smartest kids of our class."

"But she was a heavy partier too," Mika pointed out. "I guess it goes to show we really never know what's going on in people's lives. We really never know what's hiding behind their faces."

Jungkook stiffened next to me at Mika's words. I turned to look up at him quizzically, but before he could say anything the school bell rang, signaling the first period was about to begin.

"I'll see you guys later I guess," Mika sighed.

"I'll walk you to class," Namjoon immediately offered, earning a little grin from Mika.

"Aw, Joonie, you being such a gentleman now? Feeling sorry for me after how rough you were with me last night?" Mika teased, batting her lashes.

"Good grief, Mika, get out." I groaned, shaking my head. I loved my friend with all my heart. But sometimes she was too much.

"I'll see you later too, Jungkook." I turned to leave but Jungkook's arms around me tightened. I frowned and looked up at him. "What?"

Jungkook was gazing down at me, his dark eyes filled with such earnestness and such gentleness something inside me actually ached. "Mei," he whispered hoarsely, "you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Tell you what?" I asked gently, reaching up and brushing my fingers down his cheek affectionately.

Jungkook shivered under my touch. The ache in me spread through my entire body to my very core. "If something was wrong, you'd tell me wouldn't you? If you felt in the slightest... suicidal, you'd tell me."

I blinked, speechless.

Jungkook pressed our foreheads together, eyes fluttering shut. "Please, Mei," he whispered, "please promise me if you ever get dark thoughts, you come to me. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. Promise me, Mei."

I swallowed hard and my own eyes slid shut, blocking out the world and the students brushing past us. "I promise," I said. A heavy weight seemed to descend on my shoulders as I uttered those words.

-Promises-

The cafeteria doesn't hold knives any longer. Not even plastic ones.

Instead, we only have spoons and severely blunted forks that can barely stab into the dry school meat. I twirl the fork in my hand as I sit at a small corner table. Students walk past me with trays of food, murmuring to each other. I catch a few pitiful looks in my direction. Having Jungkook back, wiped clean and advocating for the Curing, has caused a sensation. And practically everyone knows who I am because of Jungkook.

My thumb presses down on the blunt point of the fork.

I remember the earlier days of high school, when everyone was as happy as we could be. All of us sitting around the table in the middle of the cafeteria, unafraid to be seen. Unafraid to stand out. Jungkook would more often than not be sitting on top of the table next to me, yelling up a storm at the other members around the table while I slapped his knee and scolded him to sit down properly.

I press my thumb harder on the fork. A little flare of pain spreads on the pressurized point, but it's nothing compared to the sharp shards of savage torment tearing inside me.

There were nine of us back then. Now, there's only three counting myself. One of them has detached himself from the world and the other one of them is on the verge of snapping with cracked memories.

Everyone else is gone or, in Jungkook's case, brainwashed.

"What are you doing?" Strong hands wrap around my own and yanks the fork out of my grasp.

"Hey!" I exclaim, whipping around to give whoever shattered through my thoughts a piece of my mind.

It's Jungkook.

His eyes are dark and confused. He grips the fork I was holding moments before tightly in one of his hands. "Mei, what were you doing?" He hisses at me.

"What?" I say stupidly, my mind blanking at the sight of him. He's beautiful. God dammit, he's beautiful. But the image of him with Hana the other day sears through my mind.

Jungkook with his free hand reaches out and grabs my wrist, holding it up for me to see.

A bead of blood wells up in my thumb. Somehow, I managed to break skin with the blunted cafeteria forks.

Jungkook sits down on the seat next to mine. I stiffen all over as I feel his body heat. He's too close. Too close.

He doesn't seem to notice my discomfort, or he's ignoring it. He grabs a clean napkin from the table and gently wraps it around my injured thumb. He looks up. "Mei," he says gently, "please don't hurt yourself. If you need to, the Curing have therapists if you need to talk to some—"

"Don't." The word comes out sharp, like a broken shard of glass. "Don't you dare talk to me about the Curing."

Jungkook lapses into silence for a few seconds. His hand still holds mine, his touch burning into my skin. Finally he says, "Alright. I won't bring up the Curing. But please, promise me Mei that if you begin having dark thoughts, or if you feel like hurting yourself, talk to someone."

Promises.

So many promises I've made with Jungkook. And now, all of them have either been broken or forgotten.

"I can't promise you anything, Jungkook," I whisper, taking my hand out of his.

❁❁❁