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Summary: A bully Yoochun takes it on Jaejoong, but kind Yunho, dazzled by Jae's beauty, will stop Yoochun and help him. Status: Complete Characters: Kim Jaejoong, Jung Yunho, Park Yoochun "Yunho?" a distant voice inturrupted my thoughts. "Jung Yunho?" Was that Yoochun's voice I hear? I can't tell, but all I could concentrate on was the boy in front of me. I've seen him before, helping the ahjummas at the Animal Shelter near my house. We've talked before also, but it was only to say 'hi' or for me to ask about Taepoon's condition. Why was Micky's next victim this gentle person? Who would want to harm him? His soft, delicate cheekbones. Those eyes that shown a chocolate brown glint that reflected lonliness and fear. Hair as black as night, and as glossy as polished metal. His locks hung freely down to his shoulders, emphasizing his intricate collarbone. I would describe him as beautiful. Gorgeous, breathtaking, an angel sent from God. Yes, I could literally see long, pure, white wings form from behind him. But.......why was the angel on the floor? Why wasn't he flying like angels should be? Why was his face marred wih a black bruise? Had I caused that? No, Yoochun did. Did I even dare harm this rare creature in front of me? No, I wouldn't. I reached a careful hand out, wanting to brush the droplet away from his eyes. It was only an excuse. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to feel his rich white skin, to prove that they were as soft as they looked. As hand came in contact with cheek, I felt his warmth travel into my fingers. His skin, it was so soft. "Yunho?" Yoochun tugged at my uniform, hard. "Yah! Aren't we going to beat him up?" he smiled evilly at the defensless boy. The angel curled tighter into itself, whimpering inaudibly as it clutched at its battered side. "Fine, I'll do it." Yoochun finally declared, his patience disappearing. He wanted a show, and he wanted it now. The only way for that to happen was for this boy to get hurt. Twisted and disturbing that people can think like that. That it was okay to harm another person as long as it wouldn't backfire and hurt themselves. That was the truth. A kick in the stomach from Yoochun caused the small boy to open his mouth in pain, but as expected, nothing came out. Frustrated at not hearing anything, he delivered another shattering blow. This time, it landed dangerously close to the back of the victim's skull. My fist clenched, nails biting into my palm. I wanted to push Yoochun as far as possible from the guy. Punching him wouldn't quench the anger. No, he needed to suffer as much pain as he himself was inflicting. "Aish, this is no fun." Yoochun frowned. He stopped kicking, and grabbed a hanful of the guys hair. "What's your name?" Yoochun pulled the guy's hair backwards, making his head bend inhumanly backwards. "Tell me!" he demanded. No answer. Instead, the boy gulped, needing air. His gaze went sideways and landed on me, pleading me to stop all of this. I watched as his small adams apple move up and down when he gulped again. Just then, I notcied the scar. It was ugly. The only flaw on the person's body. It ran up and down on his left cheek. It began just above his brows, delcining unevenly down to just about a inch of his cheek. Delicate fingers came up and desperatly tried to pry the hands away from its owner's hair. "Yoochun, that's enough." I commanded, my voice finally able to make words. Yoochun frowned, obviously not happy. "Let go." I glared at him, daring him to defy me. "But-" he began, but was cut short. "Now!" I yelled angrily. He flinched and let loose on his grip. Standing up awkwardly, he jumped and ran away when I growled for him to leave. Squatting next to him, my hands ran up and down his arm, trying my best to comfort him. Hurt jabbed at my heart when he scooted away from my touch. I wasn't surpriesed at all. I was a repulsive person. A person that nobody wanted to be friends with. That got in fights cause they felt like it, stole cause they can, and lied when they had to. But....it still hurts. "Can you tell me your name?" I asked gently, fingers busying itself to straighten his hair. "Im uh... sorry about Yoochun. I tried to convince him to stop with the life he's living, the life that he's ruining, but he refuses." I sighed, "I guess he hasn't found the reason for him to stop." Why was I talking to this guy anyways? And worse, why was I caring for him? I stopped caring for anybody but myself a long time ago. "Be a good person for Umma...promise me Yunho," my mom had begged me before her death. I shouldn't have promised her something that I knew I couldn't keep. Promises were meant to be kept, not broken. A good person. Me? Impossible. I thought it was impossible, but look at me now! I was helping another person! Umma, are you proud? The guy shuffled uncomfortably next to me and struggled to sit up. "Here." I offered a hand to him. He stared blankly at it, as if the beating left him without emotions. "Thank...you." he struggled to say those two simple words. It came out as a quiet, raspy whisper. His hands claimed mine and I gladly pulled him upright, happy at the contact. "Can...." he cleared his throat, "Can...you help....me?" he asked. I stared confusingly at him, then I understood his meaning. "How can you trust me?" I asked. He opened his mouth again to reply, but nothing came out. His frowned deepened, and I felt myself willing to do anything to make him smile. Brushing the question aside, I picked him delicatly up, and amused myself when I saw his wide eyed expression. "Ill take you to the hospital, don't worry," I assured when I felt him struggle, "I won't hurt you. I..." I hesitated. "I promise."