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Khun feels like he’s burning until there’s nothing at all. Vague impressions of sounds filter through his ear. He opens his eyes to a sea of red. The world around him is burning. He sees his hands move and flames exploding from them. Khun tries to look away and he can’t. Forced to look straight ahead with nowhere to turn. It’s as disorienting as it is horrifying. Through the fire, he sees Bam’s face - a picture of horror, worry, and panic directed at him.
Khun tries to move his hand, tries to do anything really. Not even a twitch. He’s trapped, unable to move - is he even breathing - and helpless. He watches as the flames lick up the sides of ships, twisting and melting the metal. He watches as Bam gets burned.
There is nothing he can do, no matter how desperately he tries to do something. He screams, and shouts warnings, but they fall on deaf ears. He is utterly alone.
As if summoned by the thought, the firefish appears before him. It’s larger than before. The flame burns darker. More sinister.
“I warned you.”
Khun is indignant. He gestures to the raging fire. “This can’t be what you meant. I thought I had more time. You said if I overused you-”
“That I’d burn everything.”
“So what are you waiting for? Why haven’t you consumed me yet?”
The fish laughs. It’s deep and echoes in his head. The fish smiles, it’s vicious. “You will watch as I take what you love and burn it into ash.”
Khun gets a clear vision of Bam being assaulted by the flames. They leap at him eagerly, hungrily, ready to consume him. His arm looks worse for wear - scorched and steaming. Khun’s heart aches and leaps into his throat. He, of course, knows why Bam isn't properly defending himself. Bam always was too stubborn for his own good.
Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, or the fear, or the sheer agony of seeing Bam in pain, but Khun feels whole again. His fingers twitch in response to his movements. He tells Bam to leave him. Afterall, Khun is a burden like this. A wildfire blown out of control. He feels the tear slip down his face.
Bam’s face is resolute. Determined. It’s beautiful. It’s painful.
“Why him?”
“Because you love him.”
“How did you know?”
The fish flicks its tail, clearly uninterested by the question. “I know everything that you know.”
“Really? Then I suppose you know what I must do.”
The fish startles when Khun pulls the knife from his sleeve. The fish tries to wrest control from him, but Khun will not allow himself to stop now. His arms shake with the exertion of lifting it to his heart while trying to remain present.
Plunging the knife in is easy. Smooth. There’s no hesitation. With a triumphant grin at the fish, he allows himself to be pulled into the White Heavenly Mirror. Everything goes black.
Khun’s body popped out of the blade three days ago. He’s been unconscious ever since.
Bam sits at his side, keeping vigil at all hours of the day - unwilling to leave the room despite the heat radiating from Khun’s body. The shinsu vibrates and shimmers with the heat he gives off, but Bam barely notices it. He’s more concerned with the man lying in the bed.
Everytime he closes his eyes, he swears he sees Khun’s beautiful blue eyes engulfed in red. He sees Khun cry - the tear blazed down his cheek, illuminated by the fire - and point the knife at his chest before disappearing.
He holds Khun’s hand - it sears his skin, but he doesn’t mind. It’s Khun. It reminds him of lifting the knife that Khun was sucked into. How it alternated between burning and healing his skin.
Shibisu comes in with food and tries to get Bam to eat, to sleep, to do something besides sit there. Bam doesn’t acknowledge it much beyond a nod. They both know he won’t.
“He wouldn’t want to see you like this.”
“Do you think I want to see him like this?”
Shibisu sighs. Bam’s face is twisted, his brows furrowed. He looks lost. Holding onto Khun’s hand like a lifeline. Perhaps to him it is.
“I think you two need to talk when he wakes up. An actual talk.”
Bam isn’t sure what Shibisu means, but he trusts his judgement. He needs to speak with Khun. Needs Khun to understand the horror he felt. Bam needs to tell him that he could never leave Khun behind. That he nevers wants to see a knife at his chest again. His heart aches. Bam never wants to lose Khun.
So why did it seem like Khun was all too willing to let himself go.
“That was intriguing.” The fish swims lazily around Khun. Khun doesn’t bother to try to follow it with his eyes. He stares straight ahead into the void.
“Was it now?”
The fish comes to a stop in front of him. The flames leap off of him and pass tauntingly close to Khun’s face. Khun raises an unamused eyebrow. The fish ignores him. “I have served many and burned even more. Those who try to tame me get consumed. I did warn you.”
“I wasn’t going to let them die!” Khun snaps before he takes a deep breath. “I have the power to keep them all alive. So I will.” Khun glares. “You were supposed to heal them.”
The fish flicks its tail in boredom. “It was your own selfishness that burned them in the end.”
“...I just wanted to stay at his side.”
“You won’t be able to keep that boy you love. Your efforts are futile. We both know this. You remember the dwarf’s warnings. He will leave you behind. Just as she did.”
Khun flinches and grits his teeth.
“They are destined for greater things. You are destined to stay behind.”
Khun stays silent, unable to dispute the fish’s words. They cut deep and ring true. Afterall, a shark cannot swim with minnows. A resignation he submitted himself to long ago. Khun knows it’s inevitable, but he wants to keep climbing the tower with Bam. He already promised himself that he would go as far as he can using whatever methods necessary.
The fish circles Khun, inspecting him. Khun feels annoyance creep up inside him.
“Was all that burning not enough for you?”
The fish doesn’t dignify that question with a response. “Without sacrifice, you will have nothing but ash.”
“So what do you propose? You know that you can’t leave this place until you do.”
The fish is silent.
“You want me to choose.” It’s not a question.
The fish stays silent, studying Khun.
“You want me to choose what I sacrifice.” His voice is flat. Khun nods to himself. “Of course, I should have expected this. In the end, everything has a price.”
“Precisely.” The fish grins. It’s cruel and sharp, biting in the most painful places. “Be grateful that I even offer you a choice.”
Khun glares at the fish. He didn’t like that it had easy access into his head. “Fine.”
The fish smiles in amusement. “Very interesting indeed. It’s a steep price.”
“I am willing to pay.”
“You know this will only put you further behind him.”
“I don’t care. Take my eyesight. I don’t think I can bear to face him after this.”
“As you were. I will take my payment. Remember you brought this upon yourself.”
“I am aware.”
“Good. Until we meet again.”
Khun opens his eyes. At least he believes he does. The world is dark. Khun doesn’t know it, but his sapphire blue eyes have morphed into a mix of dull orange and red. His price was paid.
“Khun?” Khun hears Bam from somewhere on his side. He sounds worried and exhausted.
Khun can’t find the will to respond.
They sit in silence. Khun sits in darkness. “Bam…” He draws in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Khun? Are you alright? What happened with you and the fish?”
“Bam. I’m…” The words get stuck in his throat. However, this was what he asked for. He pushes the words out. He forces his face to become blank, but he closes his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m blind.”
He tries to offer Bam a smile, but he’s sure it looks more like a grimace.
Khun grips onto the blanket tightly, taking Bam’s silence as a negative. Staring unseeingly into the blackness, Khun laments. How regretful that the last thing he saw was the fish’s mocking grin. He wishes, foolishly, that he could have seen Bam’s face one last time. The emotion overwhelms him, tears gather in his eyes, and words spill out faster than he can even think to stop them. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Bam. You should have left me behind. I’m useless to you-”
Something wraps around him. He flinches and then relaxes into the hold. It’s Bam.
“I will never leave you behind.”
Khun’s already shaking his head. “You will, you don’t-”
Bam tightens the hug. “I won’t. I won’t ever leave you behind.” Bam leans in to whisper into his ear. “You mean too much to me.” Khun shudders in his hold, tears threatening to spill over.
“Bam?”
"I won’t leave you. So why?” Bam’s voice shakes and Khun feels his heart break. “Why do you always leave me?”
“I-”
“I’m terrified of losing you. I close my eyes and all I see-” Bam’s voice breaks. There’s a shaky inhale. “I see the knife at your chest and you…”
“Bam…” Khun wraps his arms around Bam. “I’m sorry. I… I thought it was the best option.”
“You dying is not the best option!”
Khun goes silent and strokes Bam’s hair. That was never his intention. They both knew that.
“You’re not useless. Not to me. I wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for you.”
“Bam that’s not-”
“It is true. Khun... Aguero. ”
Khun’s breath hitches.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I’ll go as far as I can.”
Bam pulls away. Khun misses the warmth immediately, but he lets his arms fall limp at his side. There’s hands on his face and he nearly jolts back in surprise. “No, Aguero. That’s not what I asked.” His voice is strong and serious. Khun can almost picture the expression on his face. Can practically see the determined look in Bam’s eyes. The picture of resolution. Khun lifts a hand to place over Bam’s.
“Bam…I’m blind, there’s so much I can’t-,”
“I don’t care!” Bam strokes his cheek - right underneath his eyes. “I’ll be your eyes as long as you keep lighting the way. I care about you, not your worth . Stay with me.”
Khun gives him a small, helpless smile. Bam cares about him , huh? “Alright.”
Bam brushes back a lock of Khun’s hair before kissing him gently. It’s soft and sweet, but it’s enough to turn Khun to mush. They draw apart, but Khun can still feel Bam’s breaths curl against his lips. It spreads warmth through Khun - a kind warmth that doesn’t burn.
A vow was foraged.