Alpha Trauma Vol. 5 Chapter 7 - Special Extra (7)

However, who would have thought both sides would be fumbling this badly? Seeing the mess they had made of themselves, as if they had gone through a breakup, I could sense the gravity of the situation more clearly.

They say blood is thicker than water, so I thought, Maybe I should put in some effort for my poor Oppa.

“Tell me what’s going on. I’ll listen.”

“Well…”

I’m not cut out for counseling. Even so, Jina listened attentively to Wooyeon, who explained in a tearful voice what had happened with Dohyeon. “A new recruit joined the club at the beginning of the semester…” Starting from there, Jina was slightly taken aback but still tried her best not to miss a word.

After hearing everything, Jina’s mouth hung open as she responded in a voice as cold as ice, as if she had completely forgotten she was supposed to take her brother’s side.

“…Is Kim Dohyeon insane?”

It was harsh, considering she was talking about her own brother. Wooyeon raised an eyebrow and protested, “It’s not that bad,” in a nasally voice, which made Jina slam her hand on the table.

“Hey! Who asks for the truth and then acts all petty about it?”

She hadn’t expected Kim Dohyeon, who seemed mature, to be involved in such childish drama. Jina could understand the emotions at play, but once you asked for the truth, you had to own up to it.

“And why did he give his number? You should’ve just handed yours out too. Why didn’t you mention the coworker who was hitting on you? If he’s going to get caught, he might as well not bother hiding it.”

Jina’s fiery outburst left Wooyeon looking bewildered, lips slightly parted. Maybe it was the first time someone had reacted so passionately. Her wide eyes seemed both amazed and overwhelmed.

“And why did he leave the house after a fight? Pack up his things and throw him out. Kick him out for real.”

“…Wouldn’t that mean he’ll just crash at your place?” Wooyeon muttered.

“Ah, right.”

Jina’s expression clearly showed she had forgotten her original goal. Getting riled up, she had overlooked the part where they needed Dohyeon to leave. Sorry, bro, she thought, silently apologizing before clearing her throat.

“Well, I’m saying this as your friend.”

When listening to someone’s story, it was natural to empathize with the person telling it. Wooyeon had shared every little detail, and with that tearful face in front of her, Jina couldn’t help but take her side.

“If I were Dohyeon’s friend, my take would be completely different.”

“Different how?”

“Oh, completely.”

“…How different?”

So naive. Wooyeon looked genuinely curious. Even though she probably wouldn’t like what Jina had to say, she seemed to need an objective perspective.

“Want me to show you?”

When Wooyeon nodded, Jina smirked, took a sip of coffee, and began with an exaggerated tone, like she had switched roles entirely.

“Hey, why couldn’t she manage something so simple? Making you stress over that? Who actually tells their partner about every person who flirts with them?”

Even five confessions a week seemed excessive. If it were her boyfriend, she would’ve snapped after the third time, asking what he expected her to do about it. Was she supposed to get jealous?

“And why pour drinks for some guy who got your number? Might as well feed him too.”

“…”

Wooyeon’s gaze turned a little sharp. She didn’t seem angry, but she looked mildly offended. However, Jina had no intention of stopping now that she had started.

“She’s being way too strict with you while letting herself off the hook. Giving a number to a junior happens—it’s not like it’s a big deal.”

This time, Wooyeon’s sharp eyes softened slightly, her shoulders sagging as if acknowledging she might’ve been wrong. Watching the subtle shifts in her expression, Jina continued with a steady stream of advice.

“Next time, just hand out your number at the workshop. That’s why you wrote your email, right? Stop doing that too. Let her feel jealous for once.”

“…”

“You even left the house because of her. Where did she think she was going? If she didn’t want to upset you, she should’ve stopped when you told her. Don’t tell her where you are. Let her worry about you for once.”

As Jina’s sharp commentary went on, Wooyeon, who had been crying earlier, now looked completely calm. Not calm, exactly—more like unsure of how to react.

Having said her piece, Jina finally unfolded her arms.

“That’s about it.”

“You should’ve gone into acting.”

Wooyeon touched her earlobe as she spoke, her furrowed brow and faintly amused smile suggesting she found the situation both absurd and funny.

“Right? The entertainment industry just doesn’t recognize my talent.”

Jina replied nonchalantly, handing Wooyeon a glass of water. After staring at Jina’s hand for a moment, Wooyeon accepted the water and drank.

Watching her throat bob as she swallowed, Jina called out softly.

“Wooyeon.”

“…”

Wooyeon’s teary eyes turned toward Jina, still shimmering with emotion. How’s she planning to face school tomorrow? Jina wondered as she spoke casually.

“Couples fight all the time.”

It was such an obvious truth it didn’t need saying. Even Jina, who had only been in a relationship for a short time, had argued over small issues.

“You don’t break up over one fight.”

While there were exceptions, Jina didn’t mention them. No matter how common such situations were, they didn’t apply here.

Then suddenly, a chill ran down Jina’s spine as she asked cautiously:

“You’re not planning to break up, are you?”

“No.”

The answer was sharp and clear. Wooyeon frowned slightly, her gaze fixed on Jina.

“Why would I break up?”

Well, then.

Her expression was almost offended by the mere suggestion. Earlier, she’d been worrying about whether her boyfriend might be sick of her. At least she didn’t seem to have any intention of ending things herself.

“As long as you don’t say you want to break up, it won’t happen….”

Actually, even if you did, it still wouldn’t.

Jina knew exactly what kind of person her brother was. He wasn’t the type to give up once he set his mind on something. While he often appeared generous and willing to yield, he never let go of what he truly wanted.

And from Jina’s perspective, Wooyeon was the one thing Dohyeon would never let go of, no matter the cost. Even from the early days of their relationship, it had been evident. Back when Jina first started talking to Wooyeon, she had sensed the unspoken tension from Dohyeon. Partly, it was to protect Wooyeon from being hassled by the family, but it was also because, on some level, Dohyeon likely saw Wooyeon as his ideal type.

“If he was going to get sick of you for being mean, he would’ve left a long time ago.”

Jina didn’t know every detail of their past, but she did know the two had broken up once before. The fact that Dohyeon had been the one to initiate reconciliation had shocked her.

“You remember what you told me back then?”

Now it was Jina’s turn to reflect on the words Wooyeon had once said, the ones that had helped her understand who Kim Dohyeon was—a man who wasn’t blood-related but was her brother nonetheless.

“He must’ve been scared.”

“…”

“Scared of being abandoned by you.”

Dohyeon had probably been treading carefully, working hard to ensure the relationship didn’t crumble. He likely tried his best to show only his good sides, day in and day out, struggling in ways unimaginable to others.

“So cry it out for a bit longer and then call him. He’s probably waiting for you to reach out.”

Jina felt she had said enough. She was inwardly satisfied with how she’d handled the situation and was ready to wrap it up—until Wooyeon murmured something softly, just loud enough for her to catch.

“…I don’t know what to say.”

“Huh?”

The brim of Wooyeon’s cap cast a shadow over her face. It was hard to tell if her face was small or the cap was big, but either way, her expression was obscured.

“I want to say sorry, to apologize for what I did wrong. But I’m scared he’ll get mad at me again. I really am sorry, but… I also can’t help being mad at him too.”

As Wooyeon spoke, she paused occasionally, her voice hitching, though she wasn’t crying anymore. It seemed like her breathing was still unsteady from the emotional outburst earlier.

Jina rested her chin in her hand and chuckled softly.

“You’re just still upset, that’s all.”

It had barely been 48 hours since their fight—Dohyeon had shown up late on Friday night, after all. The wounds were still fresh, and without any proper conversation since, there hadn’t been enough time for the bitterness to fade.

“Sometimes things just work out when you see them in person. Especially with someone as good-looking as my Oppa, don’t you think?”

Jina smirked as she recalled something Dohyeon had once said. The first time he and Wooyeon had gone out for barbecue and soju, she had been there, sprawled in the backseat of Dohyeon’s car, pretending to be drunk while he drove them home.

“…Just seeing his face makes me want to forgive him.”

Dohyeon’s sheepish confession, spoken softly, had lingered with her. She had thought he was angry at the time, only to hear him drop a cheesy line like that.

“…”

Wooyeon hesitated at Jina’s teasing, her head lowered. When she finally looked up, her eyes were red, her gaze heavy with exhaustion and vulnerability.

“…Is he really not mad at me?”

Oh, this was too pitiful.

She looked like a child scolded by their parents. Just how serious was their fight? This was the same Wooyeon who always seemed so composed and confident. To see her like this was both surprising and saddening.

“If you’re that worried, just wait until tomorrow. Maybe he’ll reach out to you first.”

Kim Dohyeon, you heartless jerk. Making your younger lover, who’s the same age as your sister, go through all this emotional turmoil.

“And honestly… if he were going to break up with you, he’d at least meet you to say it in person.”

Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. Wooyeon’s face darkened at her words. But before the mood could completely sour, Wooyeon firmly shook her head.

“…We’re not breaking up.”

“…”

“I won’t break up.”

“Fair enough.”

That was exactly what Jina wanted to hear. Not only because she didn’t want to see them sad, but also for purely selfish reasons. She had grown attached to Wooyeon and hoped the two would bicker and make up all the way to the altar.

“Now, eat your sandwich. If you don’t, I’ll get scolded.”

“By who?”

“Someone with a terrible temper.”

Wooyeon seemed to accept that as a joke, silently picking up the sandwich. Her red eyes and small, tentative bites made her look like a little animal. Watching her, Jina considered snapping a photo but then remembered the interrupted task from earlier.

“Oh, right. I was going to show you my boyfriend’s picture.”

“…Not interested.”

“Look anyway.”

After all this advice, it was only fair she shared a bit about herself. Jina showed Wooyeon a few pictures of her boyfriend. Wooyeon glanced at them with minimal interest, only muttering, “He’s handsome,” after some prompting.

“Want to meet him? I’ll introduce you next time.”

“Not really….”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

Jina didn’t actually plan on introducing them but had her reasons for suggesting it. She needed to lay the groundwork for something she had in mind. Although Wooyeon seemed hesitant, the idea of meeting her friend’s boyfriend eventually piqued her interest.

“Your throat okay? You shouldn’t drink coffee—it upsets your stomach. Order something else.”

“How did you know?”

How do you think? Jina thought to herself, glancing at her phone. On the screen was a conversation with someone saved as [Oppa]. Smiling faintly, Jina read the last message from him before setting the phone aside.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a sparsely furnished guest room with just a bed and wardrobe, Dohyeon sat alone. Perched on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, he stared blankly at the screen, unmoving for what felt like an eternity.

“……”

On the screen, its brightness turned all the way up, an enlarged image of Wooyeon’s face appeared. His cap was pulled low, shadowing his features, and the area under his eyes was hollowed, as though he hadn’t slept a wink. His red-rimmed eyes were puffy and swollen, doubling the fine crease of his eyelids. Even faint traces of tears lingered at the corners of his eyes.

“Ha…”

Dohyeon squeezed his eyes shut and let out a deep sigh as he reopened them. His insides churned with anxiety, yet there was no immediate solution to the situation. The only thing he could do now was meticulously analyze the photo Jina had sent him.

“……you piece of trash.”

The curse that escaped into the air wasn’t directed at anyone else but himself. Bastard. Idiot. He’d repeated insults he wouldn’t ordinarily utter so many times that he’d lost count. His gut felt as if it were decaying, and at moments, a physical ache gripped his stomach as though he were genuinely sick.

Pressing his throbbing eyes, Dohyeon tapped the screen. As he scrolled past the photo, his chat history with Jina appeared. The thread began with Jina sharing Wooyeon’s picture, followed by messages Dohyeon had sent.

[Feed him something.] 01:02 PM

[There’s a sandwich shop there, isn’t there?] 01:03 PM

[No chicken. Wooyeon can’t eat chicken.] 01:03 PM

[(Gift card)] 01:04 PM

[Please, I’m begging you.] 01:04 PM

He found his own requests pitifully desperate, but he couldn’t help it. Wooyeon, who’d likely cried himself to sleep, probably hadn’t eaten properly. Just like Dohyeon.

Jina: [ㅡㅡ;;;] 01:06 PM

Jina: [Making me babysit, huh?] 01:06 PM

Jina: [(Photo)] 01:10 PM

Jina: [Mission complete.] 01:10 PM

Despite her grumbling reply, Jina complied with Dohyeon’s plea almost immediately. She even sent a photo of Wooyeon holding the sandwich. His fingers, so slender and straight, caught Dohyeon’s attention. Fixated on Wooyeon’s hands, he sent one more message.

[Don’t let him drink coffee—it’ll upset his stomach.] 01:15 PM

The drink on the table looked like coffee, prompting the additional comment. Why order something he won’t even drink? Dohyeon hesitated, debating whether to suggest a sweet drink instead but ultimately left the thought unsent.

The ‘read’ receipt didn’t appear for some time. Dohyeon reopened the initial photo Jina had sent and stared at it intently. Wooyeon, his lover, with a face unmistakably marked by tears, his eyes cast downward in a dejected gaze.

“……”

His eyes are so swollen. After crying this much, his head will ache. His skin is sensitive; what if the redness around his eyes gets worse? Dohyeon worried whether the delicate skin around Wooyeon’s eyes would become irritated.

How long had it been since he’d last seen Wooyeon cry like this? Not since two years ago, after the incident when Wooyeon had discovered that Suyang had arranged Dohyeon to be his tutor. The next day, Wooyeon had turned his back and walked away.

No—thinking back, this was worse. At least back then, Wooyeon had feigned being fine. The Wooyeon in the photo didn’t look fine at all. He must have been crying right up until the moment he met Jina.

Wooyeon, who seemed fragile at a glance, was surprisingly resilient. He didn’t cry easily, likely because he had cried so much in his past that he had grown desensitized to most things. The only recent times Dohyeon had seen him shed tears were at Seongyu’s farewell ceremony and his own graduation.

‘Congratulations on graduating.’

Just a few months ago, on the day Wooyeon graduated from the university he’d attended for four years, excluding his military service. Wearing his graduation gown, he’d hidden his tears by burying his face in Dohyeon’s chest. Dohyeon had pretended not to notice but couldn’t ignore the subtle tremble of Wooyeon’s shoulders. He’d placed the graduation cap on Wooyeon’s head and held him tightly, soothing him for a long while.

People might call it a messed-up thought, but honestly, Dohyeon had felt a twinge of joy. It was pitiful yet endearing—so touching in its own way. Dohyeon, who had once even entertained the idea of reenlisting just to make Wooyeon cry for him, couldn’t help but find his tearful lover utterly lovable.

The photos from that day still had a special place on Dohyeon’s phone. Even though they lived under the same roof, Dohyeon vividly remembered how inseparable Wooyeon had been afterward. He’d clung to him the entire day, even refusing to let go when Dohyeon needed to shower.

Tears shed during intimacy were routine, born from Wooyeon’s inability to handle the overwhelming pleasure. At those times, Dohyeon felt a mix of a strange sadistic satisfaction and a deep sense of fulfillment. He’d even wondered if he was developing a twisted preference.

So, to be completely honest, Dohyeon didn’t dislike seeing Wooyeon cry.

“……”

But not like this. Seeing Seon Wooyeon crying somewhere else, with such a heartbroken expression, rather than by his side, was something Dohyeon never wanted to witness again. He would rather sacrifice his flesh and bone than experience this a second time.

He deeply regretted the stupid things he had done. What on earth had caused Wooyeon to cry? Why hadn’t he been able to hold back his temper? Where had it all gone wrong? He agonized over the initial misstep that had led to this unraveling.

‘You told me that bottling things up—even small matters—makes them fester.’

‘……’

‘You told me to speak up if I had something to say, not to hide it.’

Yes, that’s what he’d said. To prevent illness from festering in silence. To keep Wooyeon from leaving his side, weighed down by unspoken hurt. He hadn’t wanted Wooyeon to experience any discomfort, wishing only for him to be happy and open.

‘You had complaints about me… So why didn’t you tell me?’

Dohyeon knew where Wooyeon’s sense of betrayal stemmed from. What had angered him and what had left him feeling wronged.

‘Were you holding back just to avoid saying the wrong thing again?’

Wooyeon must have been anxious too—afraid that repressing things would cause them to fester, that he’d end up processing everything alone. Being sensitive and perceptive, he might have thought Dohyeon’s occasional thoughtless remarks were hints of bigger issues.

‘I met Minjung noona and Sungjae hyung.’

Dohyeon had felt a pang of guilt. Was I really making him agonize this much? The very efforts to keep Wooyeon from feeling insecure seemed to have had the opposite effect.

‘Do a lot of people ask for your number?’

‘……’

‘Then why didn’t you tell me about it?’

Realizing that things he hadn’t considered wrong could actually be mistakes was as humiliating as the self-assurance that he’d been doing everything perfectly. The betrayal, frustration, and sadness Wooyeon had felt became palpable to Dohyeon.

Out of concern for Wooyeon’s feelings, he hadn’t shared things that might upset him. Or maybe it was because seeing Wooyeon in person made Dohyeon forget everything else.

‘I say whatever I want to you—even things I shouldn’t—hurting your feelings in the process… But what’s the point if you keep everything to yourself?’

Dohyeon hadn’t realized how that might come across as disregard to Wooyeon. In wanting to protect him, he’d failed to recognize how such actions could feel like a lack of respect, as though he were treating Wooyeon as a child instead of as an equal.

‘Yeon-ah.’

So, he had planned to apologize. To tell Wooyeon he was sorry, that he’d been wrong, and that from now on, he’d share everything. He wanted to say that Wooyeon was so precious to him that he’d been afraid of ruining everything. He wanted to open up his heart, to have a real conversation.

‘H-heh…’

But the moment he saw the tears falling from Wooyeon’s eyes, all thoughts vanished. It felt as though time had stopped, his mind blank and his breath caught in his chest. Thud. The sensation of his heart dropping silenced him, leaving him unable to say a single word.

He felt nervous.

Anxious and distressed.

No, if he were honest, he was scared.

‘…I want to leave.’

‘At this hour? Where are you going to go?’

Wooyeon was someone who’d always let himself be comforted and soothed when he felt hurt. It wasn’t that it was easy—Dohyeon just didn’t know any other way to console him. But now, for the first time, fear left him speechless. And then, Wooyeon’s next words struck him like a blow.

‘I want to leave. …I can’t stay here with you anymore.’

When was the last time something like this happened? Was it when Wooyeon pulled his hand away? Back then, Wooyeon had snapped, saying he wouldn’t fall for his words again and that he couldn’t trust him, before walking away. But had it felt this devastating then?

‘…Do you hate being with me?’

What am I supposed to do?

The pain of being rejected by someone he loved hit him like a revelation. It was like the ground crumbled beneath his feet, leaving him plunging into a dark, bottomless void. Before he even recognized the lump rising in his throat as despair, Dohyeon decided to step back first.

‘I’ll leave.’

That’s how he ended up here—back at the apartment he used to live in. Now Jina’s home, but once the place where he and Wooyeon had stayed.

He had told Wooyeon he’d be at Jina’s, thinking it might keep him from worrying, but there was no reply. So, ignoring Jina’s bewilderment, he shut himself in the room, unable to move forward or back.

“I’m sorry…”

Should he reach out? But what if Wooyeon was still angry and didn’t want to see him? What if Wooyeon no longer cared for someone who had hurt him so deeply? What then?

The thought of seeing him crossed Dohyeon’s mind countless times, and he imagined himself kneeling and begging for forgiveness just as often. But every time he remembered Wooyeon’s tear-streaked face or the image of him turning his back, Dohyeon froze.

Knock, knock.

Lost in thought, he was startled by a knock at the door. Slowly lifting his head, he heard Jina’s voice from the other side.

“Hey, I’m back. I brought food, so eat something.”

“…Ah.”

A glance at the clock told him it was already past 2 p.m. Somehow, an hour had slipped by while he stared blankly at a photo of Wooyeon.

The past two days had been like this. He couldn’t sleep or eat, his mind consumed with thoughts of Wooyeon, endlessly scrolling through his contacts but unable to press send. Every time he considered going home, the memory of Wooyeon crying stopped him cold.

Pathetic. What am I even doing?

Dohyeon took a deep breath and opened the side table drawer. Inside was a small velvet box—the couple rings he had secretly bought not long ago. He had planned to give them to Wooyeon on the day his special class ended.

‘Then you should become someone better.’

He had wanted to be a better person for Wooyeon, to confess properly.

“…”

With a dull thud, he closed the drawer and stood up. He hadn’t slept or eaten in days, yet he didn’t feel tired or hungry. Everything felt distant, like a dream.

When he stepped into the living room, he found Jina lounging on the couch, watching a popular variety show. She turned to him as soon as she noticed his presence.

“Oh, so you’re finally out of your cave—”

Jina stopped mid-sentence. She blinked in surprise, then let out a baffled laugh, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“…Seriously, why did you even fight in the first place?”

Even Jina could see how awful he looked. For her to comment on it—the same Jina who usually teased him about having nothing but his looks—meant he must truly be a mess.

“I brought sushi, so eat it and get some rest. Wooyeon finished all the sandwiches.”

“…He finished them?”

“Yeah, he did.”

Oddly enough, that gave Dohyeon some relief. Though a new worry about Wooyeon’s stomach surfaced, he knew Jina wouldn’t have the answers to that.

He sat on the couch across from her. Jina gave him a curious look, surprised by his sudden willingness to stay in the same room. She seemed half wary, but Dohyeon ignored it and asked directly.

“What did you and Wooyeon talk about?”

“Why? Are you curious?”

Her smirk was anything but kind. She lowered the TV volume with the remote and replied lazily.

“If you’re curious, why don’t you text him yourself?”

“…”

Of course, he wanted to. But he couldn’t, which was why he was asking her instead. Silent, he waited until Jina sighed, finally deciding to answer.

“What do you think we talked about? I just asked him why you two fought.”

“…Why would you ask him that?”

Why not ask me? From the way his face must have looked, Wooyeon probably cried while explaining, didn’t he?

“Seriously? I asked you five times why you fought, and you ignored me all five times.”

Had he? Now that she mentioned it, maybe he had. He hadn’t spoken to Jina properly since arriving. This was the first time he’d shown his face since she opened the door for him.

“Why aren’t you going home?”

When Jina asked softly, Dohyeon had no answer. He lowered his gaze awkwardly, prompting Jina to sigh.

“He cried a lot, you know.”

“…….”

“I’ve never seen him cry like that before.”

It felt like something was squeezing his chest tightly. His heart seemed to rise and fall heavily, as if it were plummeting downward. The pitiful face of Wooyeon, as he had seen in the photo, kept flickering before his eyes.

“……Yeon said he doesn’t want to be with me.”

The answer, muttered in a voice so small it could barely be heard, must have been clear enough for Jina. Dohyeon sighed deeply, covering his eyes with one hand.

“Then how can I go back?”

He hadn’t intended to leave home. He never wanted to leave Wooyeon alone either. Even now, Dohyeon missed Wooyeon so desperately it felt like his throat was dry.

‘……I can’t stay with that hyung.’

But he says he can’t be with me. He cried because of me, and now he says he wants to leave the house because of me. How could I go back to him after that?

“Seriously, oppa…….”

Jina called out to him, sounding frustrated. She snapped her fingers decisively before speaking firmly.

“What’s with that rookie attitude?”

“……Rookie?”

The unexpected word made Dohyeon chuckle briefly, but Jina frowned, making it clear she wasn’t joking. Her eyes were wide open in such intensity that faint lines appeared where no double eyelids existed.

“You’ve dated plenty of people before, and yet you don’t understand your boyfriend’s feelings? If he says he doesn’t want to be around you, do you seriously think you should just leave? You’re supposed to stay until his anger cools down.”

But this feels different. That’s what Dohyeon thought as Jina wagged her finger at him.

“And even if he genuinely doesn’t want to be with you, you wait until he’s calmed down and find a way to come back.”

“…….”

“Read the room, oppa. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

Good at it? If nothing else, he prided himself on his sharp perception. It was innate, shaped by his environment, and something he had tirelessly honed.

“What, is this your first fight since you started dating?”

“It is.”

When Dohyeon answered calmly, Jina shook her head, wearing a face that screamed you’ve got to be kidding me.

“No, not with Wooyeon. I mean, haven’t you fought with anyone you’ve dated before?”

But Jina’s expression turned peculiar mid-sentence, as if she suddenly suspected something. Hesitating, she asked cautiously.

“You’ve never… fought before?”

“Never.”

Dohyeon answered again, his voice still even and composed.

“I always broke up before it came to that.”

Why bother with such hassle? He loathed the idea of dramatic, back-and-forth relationships. He’d never experienced heartbreak this raw, even during minor disagreements with past partners. Sometimes they’d cry during breakups, but since they were no longer a part of his life, it didn’t matter.

“That’s why this is hard.”

“…….”

“I don’t know what to do.”

If begging could solve this, then he’d get on his knees. Pride, dignity—none of it mattered. He’d plead, just as he had long ago with Wooyeon.

But the problem was that his feelings had grown deeper, making him tread more carefully.

“I’m scared of making him cry again.”

Ghosts and insects didn’t scare him, not even the thought of dying. But seeing Wooyeon cry? That terrified him more than anything. The sinking feeling he had experienced earlier had shaken him so deeply that it clouded his judgment.

“……So are you just going to break up with Wooyeon, too?”

“…….”

At Jina’s softly spoken question, Dohyeon looked at her. That was all it took for Jina to flinch and lean back.

“Whoa, you scared me. Don’t glare like that.”

Jina scolded him as she placed a hand over her chest, seemingly startled. Once he lowered his gaze, she let out a sigh of relief. Then, leaning forward slightly, she spoke slowly.

“Sometimes, oppa, you’re a bit of a perfectionist.”

“…….”

The comment felt out of the blue, at least to Dohyeon.

“When you make one mistake, you either try to avoid it altogether or start over from scratch.”

Still, Jina continued with her thoughts, her tone deliberate, as if analyzing him. She glanced him up and down, muttering like she was dissecting his psyche.

“Maybe you’re just trying to reduce the risk of failure….”

“……What are you trying to say?”

“Even now, it’s the same. You hurt Wooyeon once, so now you’re scared to take the initiative.”

A sharp pang hit Dohyeon, and he furrowed his brow. He hadn’t expected this seemingly unrelated conversation to strike such a nerve. Jina crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

“You probably feel like you ruined everything because you made him cry. You were just trying to do your best, but now you’re worried about making the same mistake again.”

“…….”

A quiet breath escaped him—not out of denial but because he suddenly felt exposed. Jina had laid bare emotions he hadn’t even fully understood himself.

“You two broke up before, right?”

“…….”

“Back then, you probably thought it’d be better to start over.”

‘……Then let’s start again.’

It was exactly what Dohyeon had said to Wooyeon before. His words, meant to erase everything and begin anew, now felt oddly amusing and ironic. He let out a dry laugh and remarked:

“You should’ve been a psychologist.”

“Ugh, psychology was so boring,” Jina quipped.

Having dropped out of that major, she joked about how she could’ve stuck with it if not for her dislike of philosophy. She even teased that she’d discovered two untapped talents in one day.

“But oppa—”

When Jina spoke, her face turned serious, her playful demeanor replaced by a look of deep concern. Her earnest eyes revealed her worry more clearly than anything else.

“Making up after a fight is easier than breaking up and getting back together.”

“I never thought about breaking up,” Dohyeon replied firmly. If nothing else, this was something he couldn’t allow to be misunderstood.

“I can’t break up with Yeon.”

He knew he couldn’t live without him now. Even if someone better came along, he had resolved never to let Wooyeon go—a decision he had made not long ago. Not that he had ever considered giving up on Wooyeon in the first place.

“Oh, so you’re feeling relaxed because you’re confident you won’t break up?” Jina teased, her lips curling into a sly smirk. She grabbed her phone off the table and continued speaking nonchalantly, as though this was all someone else’s problem.

“If you’re going to call him, you’d better hurry. You know how it goes, right? Once you cry your heart out, it’s surprisingly easy to move on.”

This time, Dohyeon wasn’t sure what she was getting at, but her next words hit like a ton of bricks. Jina grinned mischievously as she spoke, her tone light yet brimming with mischief.

“I told Wooyeon I’d introduce him to someone else if he wanted.”

“What?”

Dohyeon barely had time to react before Jina’s phone began to ring, signaling she’d made a call. The device was already on speakerphone, and a familiar voice answered on the other end.

— Hello.

Dohyeon froze. His breath caught at the sound of the voice, cracked and weary yet unmistakable.

“Hey, Wooyeon. Did you get home safely?”

— Yeah… I got back a while ago.

It was Wooyeon—the one who had occupied Dohyeon’s thoughts so completely these past few days, the person he hadn’t been able to bring himself to contact.

— Why did you call?

“Oh, nothing much…”

Jina glanced pointedly at Dohyeon, her smile playful and provoking. It was clear she was doing this to rile him up, but Dohyeon couldn’t move. His entire focus was on the voice coming through the phone, a voice that squeezed his heart like a vice. He hadn’t heard it in just two days, but it felt like an eternity.

“Did you think about what I mentioned earlier?”

— What do you mean?

“You know, about me introducing you to someone.”

— Oh, that…

Wooyeon’s hesitant tone suggested he understood what Jina was talking about, much to Dohyeon’s shock. Jina, what on earth have you been saying to him? As Dohyeon shot a glare her way, Wooyeon’s subdued voice continued.

— Do I really have to? I don’t think it’s necessary…

“Come on, just meet him once. He’s curious about you.”

Jina’s relentless persistence left Dohyeon baffled. How could she be so casual about something like this? She kept smiling as if nothing was amiss, even as she added:

“You might feel differently after meeting him.”

— I don’t think I’d get along with him…

Of course not. Wooyeon wasn’t the type to easily open up to strangers. Dohyeon knew this better than anyone. Though Wooyeon had grown out of the guarded demeanor he’d had in middle school, he still didn’t particularly enjoy interacting with unfamiliar people.

“Come on, give it a shot. What do you say? You’ll meet him, right?”

“…”

Dohyeon wanted to interject so badly, but he forced himself to wait for Wooyeon’s response. Interrupting now wouldn’t help; it would only confuse Wooyeon more. Besides, there was no way Wooyeon would agree to something like this. They hadn’t even broken up.

— “…Okay.”

“What—?”

Dohyeon shot to his feet. He lunged for Jina’s phone, but she was faster. She swiftly turned off the speakerphone and brought the device to her ear, ending the conversation with a cheeky grin.

“Great, I’ll set up a time and let you know. Bye!”

The call ended with a sharp click, plunging the room into silence. The weight of the stillness was suffocating. Finally, Dohyeon spoke, his voice low and controlled.

“Kim Jina.”

Jina flinched at his tone, visibly startled. Though she had been acting so bold, it was clear that even she found Dohyeon intimidating when he was truly angry. “What? Why? What’s the big deal?” she replied, her voice shaky but quickly regaining its bravado. She waved her phone with a smirk.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Her smile was sweet, but Dohyeon found it infuriating. He clenched his jaw, feeling his head pound as he shut his eyes tightly for a moment. His thoughts were a tangled mess.

* * *

[When are you coming?]

“…….”

[Aren’t you coming today either?]

“…….”

[How long is “for now”?]

“…….”

[Jina said there’s a guy—]

“……No, that’s not it.”

[Are you mad?]

“…….”

[I miss you, Hyung.]

“…….”

[Aren’t you really coming back?]

“……Ha.”

With a sigh, Wooyeon set his phone down. The brightly lit screen displayed a chat window with Dohyeon. Despite drafting and deleting countless messages, he hadn’t sent a single one, leaving their last conversation as the message Dohyeon had sent two days ago.

♥Hyung♥: [I’ll stay at Jina’s for now] 09:04 PM

“For now… how long is that supposed to be?”

It had been three days since Dohyeon left. After another sleepless night, Wooyeon clung to his phone the moment Monday morning arrived, determined to reach out. Yet, no words seemed right, and he ended up burying his face in a cushion, doing nothing.

“Sniff…”

He had already cried until no more tears would come. While his eyes still brimmed slightly, he was too drained to cry properly anymore. The skin under his eyes was swollen and stung, making it unbearable to even wipe away the remnants of his tears.

It was Monday, which meant he had to go to work. But Dohyeon hadn’t even stopped by to pack his things. How was he planning to manage work like this? Was he really not coming back? As thoughts of Dohyeon spiraled, a wave of sorrow welled up in him again.

What should I even say?

It was almost time for him to head to school, but contacting him now felt like it might only disrupt his day.

Should I wait until he’s done with work, then…?

“How am I supposed to wait for that?”

Every minute and second without Dohyeon felt like an eternity, as if waiting shaved years off his life. He couldn’t focus on anything, nor could he accomplish anything. Even during the height of the media frenzy around him, Wooyeon had managed to keep attending school. But for the first time, he considered skipping class altogether.

Resigned, Wooyeon resolved to send a message, trying to muster his courage. Deleting his previous drafts, he instead wrote a short message asking if they could meet after work.

Before he could press send, though, a message notification popped up in the chat.

♥Hyung♥: [I’ll come to your school when you’re done.] 08:32 AM

“……!”

Wooyeon shot upright from the sofa. Still staring at the screen, he didn’t even realize the “read” indicator had appeared instantly. Frozen, struggling to process the message, he received another one almost immediately.

♥Hyung♥: [Let’s talk in person.] 08:33 AM

“Ha.”

It felt like his hair was standing on end. The long-awaited message from his teacher. And the content? Strikingly similar to what he had just been about to send.

Was this real? Rubbing his eyes and even pinching his cheek to confirm he wasn’t dreaming, Wooyeon stared at the name on the screen. It didn’t change. It was definitely Dohyeon.

“Ah…”

Tears threatened to fall again. Despite crying so much already, one simple message made his emotions overflow once more.

Wooyeon quickly typed a brief reply, saying he’d let Dohyeon know when his classes ended. The message was read almost instantly.

“Ugh…”

I’m going to see him. Finally, I’ll have a chance to apologize.

Wooyeon reread the messages again. I’ll come to your school when you’re done. Let’s talk in person. Even in text form, he could almost hear Dohyeon’s voice. His tone seemed a little angry, but Wooyeon decided he wouldn’t know for sure until they met.

‘And anyway… even if we really were going to break up, he’d say it to my face.’

“No…”

Shaking his head vigorously, Wooyeon pushed away the negative thoughts trying to creep in. Jina said they wouldn’t break up over just one fight, so he clung to that reassurance for now.

“…Can I trust that?”

“Hoo…”

His heart raced like it might explode, so loud it felt like it could burst out of his chest.

“I should shower first…”

Pacing anxiously in the living room, Wooyeon hurriedly headed to the bathroom. Initially planning to throw on a hat and go out, he decided that wouldn’t do if he was meeting Dohyeon. At the very least, he wanted to look presentable—especially after Jina teased him about looking like a wrecked goldfish.

* * *

After his shower, Wooyeon put on a neat shirt and sweater he didn’t usually wear. He grabbed his bag, as well as his watch out of habit, and glanced at his phone to review the messages again. There weren’t any new replies, but he noticed something else for the first time.

“How’s he going to manage work…”

His classes ended at 3 PM, a time when Dohyeon would normally be busy at work. Knowing Dohyeon was familiar with his schedule, he couldn’t have mistaken the timing. Which meant Dohyeon planned to leave work early to see him.

“Did he take a half-day?”

Not that it mattered. What was important was that they’d meet when school was over.

Wooyeon’s steps felt lighter than ever on the way to campus. He arrived early and waited impatiently for his classes to end. Of course, he couldn’t focus at all during lectures, and his nerves only grew as the hours dragged on.

Should I just ask to meet now? But how would Dohyeon handle work?

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Finally, when his last class was about to end, a new message came from Dohyeon, saying he’d be waiting at the main gate. Wooyeon hastily shoved his belongings into his bag and stood up.

“I’m heading out first.”

“Huh? Oh, okay…”

His classmate stared after him, baffled by his hurried exit. But Wooyeon was too preoccupied to notice. Practically running, he made his way toward the gate.

“…”

And there, at the gate, was Dohyeon. The teacher he had missed so dearly, standing with a stoic expression, occasionally checking his watch.

Dohyeon was dressed in a shirt and tie, holding his jacket in one hand. The outfit wasn’t unusual, but the clothes, including the tie, were unfamiliar. Even Wooyeon, who knew Dohyeon’s wardrobe inside and out, couldn’t recall ever seeing them before.